Earth Day 2010

Warning: non-Cape, obligatory Earth Day content follows.

When I was working for The Athens (OH) Messenger, I had to produce five photo essays a week. We called it The Picture Page, but it was really a 9×17-inch hole that was given to the photographers to fill during the weekdays. We had to find the subject, shoot it, write a minimal amount of copy and lay it out ourselves.

Deadline was 10 a.m. and I was sucking air. I didn’t have a clue how I was going to fill the space. I didn’t want to be the first photographer to end his career at The Mess by having a 9×17-inch blank space mark his professional obituary.

Please, let there be a picture out there

With the clock clicking down, I was frantically driving around hoping SOMETHING would catch my eye.

Suddenly, this tree popped out of the fog. I knocked off a couple of frames before the light changed, then blasted back to the darkroom. I needed to cut corners, so instead of spending seven minutes using film developer, I used paper developer, which produces more grain and contrast, but only took two minutes. Serendipity kicked in and the technique made the photo better instead of worse.

This and another photo of the park got me off the hook for yet another morning. It turned out to be one of the most popular photos I took in three years at the paper.

Hocking River flood control took my tree

About six months later, I went back to the site to shoot this photo. A flood control project to reroute the Hocking River was going right over my tree. This was the result.

Hokey Poem #22

I was flattered when Carol Towarnicky, a reporter I worked with at The Ohio University Post, wrote Hokey Poem #22, which said, in part,

. . . consider the man.
who records the land.
low-key, like the hills.
gentle, like those who
who dot the country side.

familiar, calm.
he grabs his camera,
squints, clicks, moves on,
nonchalantly.

who ridicules the thought
of an “eternal message,”
yet mourns the passage
of a tree.

I’m sure CT (I called her that because Towarnicky was a mouthful, even for someone with a name like Steinhoff) was rushing to meet a writing class deadline like I was trying to fill a hole on just another work day, but I still hold on to that tree photo and Hokey Poem #22. It’s funny how something seemingly insignificant can mean so much.

The First Earth Day

My  photo of an abandoned strip mine in southern Ohio ran on the front page of The Athens Messenger on the first Earth Day. You can read the whole story about the picture here.

Bald Knob Cross Restoration Planned

There was a story in The Southeast Missourian that plans are in place to finish restoration of the Bald Knob Cross. I’d be more excited if I hadn’t heard that for years.

Still, the story jogged my memory that I had shot some aerials and ground shots of the Cross in the late 60s. I was pleased to see that the shot from the air was better than I had remembered. Parts of the film had deteriorated over the years, so my selection of pictures was limited.

Cross stands 111 feet tall, 1,000 feet above sea level

Cross project conceived in 1937

The project was spearheaded by Wayman Presley, who found 116 individuals who raised enough money between 1948 to 1951 to buy the land atop Bald Knob Hill. The foundation was poured in 1953. You can read more at the Bald Knob Cross web site.

Selling pigs raised $30,000

Financial shortfalls have been the one constant throughout the history of the Cross. The Bald Knob web site says that Presley quit his job with the Post Office to throw himself into fund raising. An appearance on This Is Your Life helped, but money was still tight.

A challenge to supporters to raise pigs, sell them and turn the profits over to the cross raised $30,000.

The Cross was completed in 1963

The formal groundbreaking ceremony was held in 1953. The bare metal framework of the Cross stood for several years until there was enough money to cover the superstructure with 900 heavy steel panels with a bright white veneer.

The Cross web site said that 40,000 watts of lighting made the structure visible for 7,500 square miles.

The symbol of peace became a source of conflict

The Cross was supposed to be an interdenominational symbol of peace, but internal conflicts were growing at the same time as the structure was deteriorating.  The disputes became so serious by 2006 the courts stepped in and locked down the properties until everything could be sorted out.

Agreement was reached in 2008

From the web site:

In the summer of 2008 a settlement that was supported by both sides of the conflict began taking shape. In the agreement, all current board members would step down and the court would appoint a temporary transitional board comprised of mostly religious leaders in Southern Illinois. The final legal settlement became official on Christmas Eve 2008. The seven member transitional board met in the middle of January 2009 for the first time. Since that time, the board has been extremely busy. In addition to the obvious challenge of the physical restoration of the Cross, the organizational structure, fiscal policies and procedures, and program development aspects of Bald Knob have been addressed. Physical restoration of the Cross has already begun.

Location of Bald Knob Cross near Alto Pass, IL


View Bald Knob Cross of Peace in a larger map

Here’s another “cross” picture

Wife Lila, who was looking over the page before I published it, remarked that the Bald Knob Cross reminded her of a photo I had taken of an abandoned strip mine in Southeastern Ohio in 1969. A power pole caught the late afternoon light just right to look like a cross. The picture ran almost full page in The Athens Messenger on the first Earth Day. It’s always been one of my favorite pictures.

Here’s the background story.

She was right. (Of course, that’s always the case. It goes without saying, but she like to hear me say it anyway.) I’ll let you decide.