Kings, Queens, Heroes and Rogues...
Photographer Eddie Jackson
He fought in World War I with a camera in one hand and a weapon in the other. At a time when the art was in its infancy, he took some of the great historical photos of events during and after the 'war to end all wars.'
By TONY QUINN from
material provided by BARRY FITZGERALD. Photos by CAPTAIN EDWARD N. JACKSON.
EDDIE JACKSON PHOTOGRAPHED the good and the great, the beautiful and the notorious people of the world. His photographs included, seven U.S. Presidents, as many kings, one pope, three queens, ten thousand beautiful women, three hundred murderers, most of the world's great diplomats and generals, pickpockets, gunmen, drug peddlers and their victims, society women and chorus girlsall the people who have their brief moment in the swirl of a day's news. "Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief, they fall for the news camera pretty much alike," he said. "I have followed many men to the electric chair or gallows, and two women to the door of the Death House, but few of them failed to play up to the camera in the end." In his time he had found men more vain and fussy than women. "They were careful about the knot of their tie, and the combing of their hair. The women smiled and acted naturally." Born onJune 28th, 1885, in Philadelphia, the youngest of four sons he left home at twelve and took a trip to Atlantic City. He became fascinated by the photographers there and after returning to Philadelphia, began to learn the trade at the age of fourteen, buying his first dollar Brownie the next year. He shot studio portraits and went back to Atlantic City's boardwalk to take photos there himself.
In 1910, seeking some 'action' he began working for the American Press Association in New York,jand ended up running the photo engraving department, the largest of its kind in the city at the time. After two years as manager Eddie took to the outdoors as a news photographer.
"The people who protest most strongly about being 'shot' by the photographer are those whose pictures have the most news value," Eddie once said. "It is the cameraman's job to get the pictures for his paper by persuasion or strategy." As one editor sternly told him we can't print a photographer's alibi. Get the picture!" Eddie found the most resistance to having a photo taken among the more humble victims of the camera, who disliked the notoriety that may go with a photograph. "Criminals, of course, have a natural fear of seeing their likeness in a newspaper. Poorer people, victirhs of accidents or poverty, have to be eloquently convinced that the picture will help them.
An incident at the time convinced Eddie of this and of the power of pictures. He had gone to get a picture of a family whose widowed mother had died and who had been left in poverty. Relatives refused to let him take the picture, as they said it would disgrace the children at school. Eddie coaxed three girls from the family to a neighbor's apartment with a gift of milk and took their picture there. Then the only male member of the family, a young boy, came home, and the news cameraman took a picture of the lad leaning against the funeral wreath on the door downstairs. As a direct result of this picture so much money was sent to the family that the children were sent out of town to school.
World War I was probably the first large military conflict covered, as much in pictures, both still and moving, as in the written word. Pictures taken during the war changed the attitude of the public to news photography. People adapted to using photos to give them the news, and while the photos could never take the place of the written word, they were equally as important, and always authentic.
During the early years of the war, Eddie photographed both the Army and Navy here in the U.S., finally enrolling with the Naval Training Cruise for Civilians in the summer of 1916 aboard the U.S.S. Maine, alongside Junius Spencer Morgan, grandson of J.P Morgan. In 1917 he switched services and joined the Army and was commissioned as a Lieutenant in the Photographic Branch of the Signal Corps.
Eddie went first to Camp Wodsworth, at Spartansburg, S.C. with the 27th New York Guard, and then in 1918 on to Europe, as part of the American Expeditionary Force, serving with the 27th at the Somme, in France. The great Somme "push," lasting from Sept. 24th to Oct. Ist, saw the 27th in some heavy fighting along the St. Quentin Canal Tunnel, one of the outlying strong points of the supposedly impregnable Hindenburg line. While at the Somme the 27th were close to the small town of Corbie, called "The Butcheir Shop" by some, as there were not enough doctors to attend to the casualties, and injured limbs were cut from bodies to save lives.
During the fighting at Corbie the first U.S. flag made its way out into No Mans Land and Eddie was there to record the scene. After the breaking of the Hindenburg line, orders were given to the 27th to take the town of St. Souplet in the St. Quentin area of the Somme. The German's were in a slow retreat when out on the battlefield Eddie saw a tank pass through an open field, swerving now and then to avoid crushing a dead or wounded
soldier. As it moved toward his position Eddie was spellbound when he saw a small silken American flag fused to the turret of the tank, bobbing along crazily as if in some form of greeting to the front line. Suddenly a German high explosive shell burst nearby and broken wood and stones cascaded down on Eddie and his group. A movie cameraman, Sergeant Howe, had been grinding away on his machine at the time when he was hit. A hasty examination revealed shrapnel in both of Howe's legs. Eddie's head buzzed with the roar of the British Light Artillery barrage and the pounding of the American heavy guns firing on the retreating enemy. His ears rang, and he was dirty and weary from Howe being hit. He stumbled away "sick in my heart" and entered into the ruins of St. Souplet. There his spirits were lifted as his eyes rested on an inspiring sight. There was the tank with the silken flag still flying on its turret.
There were those at the time of course who thought the photographer's were getting it easy in the war. Going in after the fighting was over and escaping the danger of death and mutilation that menaced the soldiers on the front line. Eddie had
heard this argument often, and when it was proffered he thought of the citation he had been given.
The citation in part read. "His courage under fire was favorably reported on by myself to the C.S.O. (Chief Signal Officer), A.E.F......" It was the citation that in his own words, "Bucked me up. Recognition! Balm to the heart of any news photographer. Immediately all the ugly experiences seemed worthwhile."
With that citation came promotion to captain. The uniform with bars on the shoulders and his Irish charm gave him a prestige and edge that helped him on his next mission, and many of the pictures he shot on it, would not have been possible had he not held that rank or been gifted with a gaelic silver tongue.
At the close of the war in 1918 Eddie was assigned as the official A.E.E photographer to Woodrow Wilson's Presidential Party overseas and the Peace~Conference in Paris. Having photographed President Wilson when he was Governor of New Jersey, and at his inauguration in 1913, Eddie knew the President to be a reluctant camera subject. He met Wilson upon his arrival at Brest, France in 1918, and remained with him throughout his entire European travels, taking the photographs that would eventually comprise a historical record of the trip. (Photographs that are now in the War College archives in Washington D.C.).
Eddie covered the arrival ceremony in Brest, but he had
already begun to think of the BIG picture, a group photo of, Premier Georges Clemenceau of France, Prime Minister David Lloyd George of Great Britain, Premier Vittorio Orlando of Italy, and President Wilson of the United States, the 'Big Four.
Eddie, and other news photographers of the time had frequently asked about the possibility of getting a shot of the men together, the reply for months was, "No, too busy, it can't be done." Eddie finally went to Admiral Cary T. Grayson the President's physician and close friend. One week after this meeting, Grayson sent a message to Eddie. "Be at the President's residence tomorrow, May 27th (1919) at Il.a.m." After five months of waiting the opportunity had finally arrived.
The next morning Eddie went to the residence, taking with him Lieutenant Victor Kubes, a Signal Corps motion picture camera operator. In the President's office Eddie arranged four chairs together, while outside, through two glass doors, Kube set up his movie camera in the garden. Soon the leaders arrived, and after seating them, Eddie took a single picture using flashpowder. The smoke caused by the powder prevented a second shot. This was a problem. American editors wanted action shots not staged photographs. Thinking quickly, while he still had the four men together, Eddie suggested that the leaders go outside to the rose garden to allow Kubes to shoot a few feet of movie. Eddie managed to quickly step through the glass doors before them and as Kubes' camera rolled, Eddie just had time to focus and press the shutter release. He had got his picture. The photograph appeared in newspapers all over the world and in history books covering the era, serving as an important record of the aftermath of World War I.
Eddie became one of the Wilson 'family,' and stayed close to the President for the entire trip, becoming familiar with not only Woodrow Wilson, but some of the world's most influential people of the time. On one occasion on the tour, Eddie heard the then King of Italy, King Victor Emmanuel, call the press photographers 'social lepers.' Eddie was not included in this description however, as a little later the King took over some of his responsibilities, spending time carefully arranging the ladies in the party to allow Eddie to take their photos.
His most important picture, and the only one of its kind in existence, was taken by Eddie, using the President unwittingly, in a successful 'undercover operation.'
During the peace talks at the Trianon Palace at Versaille after the war. Eddie took a photo showing the German delegation listening to the terms of peace being dictated by Clemenceau. The picture was 'stolen' by Eddie as the Big Four had decided that the Germans should not be subjected to any unnecessary enibarrassment. Photographers were informed that any request to photograph the proceedings would be refused. But though no permission was ever granted to photograph the scene, neither was there a formal prohibition order issued. This was the loophole through which Eddie was to crawl.
Eddie had been photographing the events a Versailles for some weeks and as the date of the event neared, he focused his attention on the Trianon Palace, where the meeting to discuss terms was to take place. While 'scouting' the area, he found a statue off to one side of the room, on which to rest his camera and command a wide view of the proceedings. The problem now was how to get the camera into the room. Security was very tight as there was the very real threat of a bomb or an assasination attempt.
On the morning of the meeting, May 7th, Eddie acquired some official White House stationary and wrote an order inviting himself to attend the meeting. He then decorated the order with all manner of official stamps and seals and made his way to the Trianon a half hour before proceedings were to begin. He was stopped by security who sent for a French officer. The officer asked for Eddie's camera telling him, "No pictures today m'sieu." Eddie assured him that he was an exception, and produced his home made document. The officer was not convinced and suggested showing the document to the commandant. Knowing this would blow his cover Eddie suggested the officer keep his camera until President Wilson arrived at which time they could resolve the matter. Eddie watched through a window as the French officer placed his camera inside the hall behind a pillar.
When the President arrived Eddie walked a little behind and to the side of him and entered the hall. Eddie moved his lips as if in conversation with Wilson but never uttered a word. As the delegation passed the French officer, Wilson turned and on seeing Eddie smiled, appearing to all as if he had approved of something Eddie had said. At that Eddie passed the pillar and picked up his camera. Waiting until Clemenceau had begun dic taring the terms to the Germans, Eddie shot the picture. He tried to get a second but as he prepared he was discovered by another French official who demanded his camera, not knowing that a photo had already been taken.
In July 1919, Eddie sailed back to the U.S. with the President aboard the George Washington. As the ship sailed into New York harbor, Eddie was standing with the Presidential party. Boats in the harbor sounded their horns and whistles and a warship firel a salute. As they sailed by the Stance of Liberty the President, wearing a soft flat cap turned to Admiral Grayson and said, "there stands the symbol of liberty for most people but not for me." Noticing the welcoming party on shore attired in formal wear and top hats the President removed his comfortable cap and put on the high hat adding, "well here I am all dressed up and ready to go to work," before leaning back against the rail and and softly whistling to himself a favorite tune.
During his time with the President, Eddie saw two very distinct Woodrow Wilson's--one was the dignified, private gentleman with a keen dislike for anything ostentatious--the other the President of the United States, who, conscious of his office, faced the lens as cheerfully as he could,~yet always somewhat unwillingly.
Eddie knew there was a time and a place for photos and sometimes there was neither. A few years after his tour of Europe, Eddie was at the White House to photograph the events on the day Warren G.
Harding was to be inaugurated as the 29th U.S. President. Hundreds of photographers were in attendance, both still and movie, to cover the event. As part of the Wilson 'family' a request had been sent to Eddie asking that the photographers refrain from taking photos of President Wilson until he was inside the waiting car. The reason became clear the moment the now quite frail President moved his shaking body across the White House portico, on his way to President-elect Harding's car. All those watching knew the news value of such a photo, as there had been widespread spec ulation regarding the President's health. No one took a picture. The assembled photographers, silenced by the sight, stood at attention, many with bowed heads. Wilson, who never seemed to forget a face or name, seeing Eddie among the crowd, stopped briefly and said, "why, hello Jackson," before moving on slowly toward the car. Once seated in the car Eddie took his last ever photo of the President he had accompanied all over Europe a few short years before.
He had photographed many famous people during his time in Europe, people of nobility and great importance in every field of achievement. But among them Eddie felt, no one was
more impressive than the President, tall, graceful, and poised with simple dignity.
Eddie kept the negatives of all the photos he took on the President's European tour in the belief that some day his collection would have historical value and would tell more than any written story of the tour could relate.
After the war, Eddie became the first Staff Photographer with the New York Daily News, joining the paper in July 1919, less than a month after it opened. His time covering the war in Europe and his ability to get a photo despite the many difficulties involved was of great help to him now as a news photographer. He covered, often exclusively, all the major stories arrractmg the arrendan of.TAeNew~' for many years, induding the Lindbergh kidnapping. While among his other great photo assignments were, the abdication of Britain's King Edward VIII from the throne and exclusive pictures of the burning prison buildings, set afire by rioting convicts at Dannemora prison in Clinton N.Y. In his last years with The News he covered the Federal Court beat which included the trial of Alger Hiss and the top 11 American Communists. He also covered every national political convention over a 20-year period.
Recognized by his peers as one of the great news photogra
phers of his time, Eddie also played the role of himself in Over the Deadline, an original for radio drama by Stewart Sterling. The story, broadcast by the NBC-WJZ network in April 1933, tells of the murder of a multi-millionaire while Jackson was taking his picture. The cameraman is framed for the killing, and only succeeds in clearing his name through the assistance of
Spencer Dean, the man hunter.
In the spring of 1942 Eddie got himself involved in a card game with a group of known mobsters. After many hands had been dealt, he had the nerve to up and leave the crooks after pocketing winnings of around $12,000, not allowing them the chance to recoup their losses. With his winnings he paid cash for a house in Wilton CT. This was to be the summer retreat for Eddie and his family up to the time of his death.
Eddie retired from The News in 19r4 after 35 years of service, and was honored by receiving the camera he was using at the time of his retirement. Attached to it was a silver plate inscribed, "Edward N. Jackson--Our First Staff Photographer In recognition of 35 years of Service--New York Daily News. Though retired Eddie always kept an eye for news explaining. "There is always something for an observant 'amateur' to shoot. And who knows I might run into a big story." The now aging Eddie divided his year between summers in Connecticut, and the cooler northern winters in Miami, Florida. Eddie took time out with his grandchildren teaching them skills he had used many years before on the battlefields of Europe. He taught them how to shoot a rifle and pitch a tent, along with the more normal childhood activities of fishing and
swimming. And when the day's endeavors were over he always made time on the journey home for ice cream.
Eddie swore to all he never touched alcohol and admonished those who did, but his grandson, Barry Fitzgerald, fondly remembers a story that showed the old cameraman had lost none of his guile. One day as a child his grandfather had taken him to a little league game in Danbury, Connecticut. On the journey home Eddie stopped the car telling the young Barry and his pals that he was going into a bar to get a glass of water and they were to wait outside. Strangely for Barry looking into the bar, the glass of water seemed to have a rather large head, and those in the bar, both patrons and staff alike, all seemed to know his grandfather and welcomed him as 'Eddie' or 'Cap'!
In the sixties he suffered a number of strokes, the last of which prevented him using his right hand, and thus he was unable to take photos. The old cameraman had shot the last of countless pictures.
Captain Edward N. Jackson died in Miami Florida on November 11th 1967. Not only was it Veteran's Day, but also the 49th anniversary of his military assignment to cover President Wilson's tour of Europe and attendance at the Peace negotiations in Versailles France.