What you see...

I heard a discussion on KGO tonight of how graphic images in the media should be, what is appropriate. This anniversary of 9/11, I saw fewer horrific examples of the carnage of that day, although I heard a recounting by an eyewitness of people jumping from the twin towers. It was on the radio, yet it was to me as disturbing as the earlier photos of bodies hurtling through space, possibly more so. A recently publicized shot of a dying Marine, his leg shot off in Afghanistan, was used by KGO talk host Pat Thurston as another example. Perhaps the public needs to be reminded of the realities of this war, but his family has objected to its use in newspaper around the nation. Where do you draw the line?An editor of an Oakland newspaper called in, and said there are different standards in each community. He referred to photos of the deaths of 15-year-olds due to gang violence --- there are so many examples happening on his turf that these decisions are made nearly daily. He referred to the "cereal test" --- what could be tolerated in print over breakfast without losing your appetite. As editor of a weekly newspaper, I have no editorial board. I have had to work through many of these decisions on my own. On an early assignment around 1986 as a photographer/reporter covering a fatal accident on Highway 14, I blithely snapped away as the remains of a pickup were removed that had been flattened by bins of fruit when a load shifted. I was jolted into the reality of the situation when someone told my that the driver was still in that 18-inch tall wreckage. I stood nauseated by the side of the road, not taking photos any longer, as his limp body, every bone broken into fragments, was extracted. It was a lesson I have never forgotten.
It is hard to balance a family's wishes against the image that may tell the story better than 1,000 words. I once took a black and white photo of a little wheelchair against the backdrop of the blackened ruins of a home. The father, a PUD lineman, had been killed in a house fire trying to save his handicapped son, who was still in elementary school. The mother and daughter came home from a volleyball game to discover half the family gone, along with their home. Members of the family who had seen me take the photo called the publisher, asking that the photo not be used. I thought it told the story in a very powerful, tragic way, but the newspaper owner and I conceded to the family's wishes. I now understand. I know the then-high school aged daughter, and I lived two doors down from the location of that home for several years; the house has since been replaced.
If the scanner goes off and it is a motorcycle crash, I will not go. The carnage is inevitably too great to depict in print. I have run some photos that were possibly problematic due to their subject matter. A woman once jumped off the top of Beacon Rock in a suicide attempt, only to become lodged on a ledge one-third of the way down. Her rescue involved a helicopter, which was buffeted by wind shear as it attempted to come to her aid, and a Vietnam vet, who was able to rappel down the rock to her position to administer first aid. She was dressed in white, and I ran an image of a tiny white speck on the rock, with a helicopter hovering. She lived, although she had a broken pelvis and many other injuries.
I generally do not include accounts of suicides unless they involve use of public resources in some way, such as the search for a man who jumped from the Bridge of the Gods, leaving his car's motor running halfway across.
I am now 60 years old, and have been doing this a long time. I am much less likely to use a disturbing photo these days. I am also much older than the preponderance of J-school grads who do the equivalent of my job, likely for much more money.
I have to live here. I run into their families every day in the grocery store and at the post office. However, there is something to be said for publishing images of things that should be disturbing --- the results of gang violence, or the horrors of war.
My nephew came back from a year of service in Iraq with photos that were truly upsetting. The most horrific to me was a photo of him standing with his weapon cocked against a ruined wall while on patrol, with giant graffiti of a skull wearing a helmet behind him. It illustrated what he saw every day, no blood necessary.