Tampa Photography Blog

Walking into chaos as a female journalist with expensive gear dangling from my arms was one of the most uneasy feelings I have ever had.

The adrenaline I get from being in a newsworthy situation, not sure of what’s to come, helps. But knowing there’s not much that can be done if someone attacks me is a level of fear I realized I am not comfortable with.

The first big shooting day I had was arriving at the Superdome in the heart of New Orleans. The last time I was there I attended a Saints game with some friends and had a wonderful time—drinking, cheering, joking about crazy fans.

This time was so very different.

Getting there was a task in itself. Driving through flooded streets and passing refugees walking aimlessly, we made it to a dry spot where the National Guard promised us my car was safe. We strapped on our knee-high rubber boots (my best investment of the trip) and headed on foot to the Superdome. I went on this adventure with two male journalists from other papers that had already been there to assess the damage.

Experience is everything.

First we had to walk through a Hyatt that smelled so much like urine, we gagged as we opened the door. I’m sure it was once considered a prime spot to stay, being so close to the Superdome. Now, it was just a shell, housing lost people and lost hope.

When we first walked up to the entrance of the Superdome, I got all the dirty looks I was accustomed to getting at fires, car accidents and other tragedies. But the difference was these people were not just depressed and angry—they were starving, thirsty, tired and homeless. Not a good combination.

Then I found that half the people were more than willing to talk to me, let me photograph them and tell me their story. They wanted media coverage. They wanted to find their families. And they wanted to get home.

This was one of the times I felt truly honored to be a member of the media. If just one of my photos helped lost relatives find each other or created awareness about the desperate situation, it was worth every frame I shot.

Then a member of the National Guard told me I was not allowed inside the Superdome. (Journalists don’t like hearing “no” even if it’s from a man with a large gun.) I asked why, of course, and he said it was simply too dangerous. Not because I was a woman, but because I wasn’t a refugee, just a journalist. At this point there were rumors of rape and murder from inside the Superdome. The National Guardsman confirmed it was pretty awful inside but wouldn’t go into specifics.

Later when I saw the news that night, I saw how the media embellished the rumors. It made me mad to know that there was no proof so rumors were turned into facts. That happened quite a bit that week. I would be shooting something and see or read a completely different (and sensationalized) account of the event. We all want great photographs and great quotes from an event like this, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of the subjects. It shouldn’t be worth telling lies.

At the Superdome I witnessed some ridiculous and awful things. My first strange encounter was when I saw two National Guardsmen standing watch over two men on the ground with assault rifles. Blood was running down one man’s face as he tried to explain what happened. I heard from the Guard that the two men got into a fight over a cigarette and one of them pulled a knife. Over a cigarette!!! This proved to me that no one was in their right mind. How could they be?

I also met Gale, a hysterical woman who was weeping and babbling. No one could understand her. I told the Guard watching her that I wanted to talk to her. I asked her to calm down and tell me her story. She said she got separated from her mother (her only living relative) when her mom passed out and was taken to a shelter for care. She had been waiting in line for hours and hours to get on a bus to go to a shelter. After the Guard heard her story, he said if she calmed down, he would let her get on the bus now to find her mother.

So good to know there are people out there who still listen in times of chaos.

As I looked around, I saw a man tied to a chair, in urine-soaked jeans, surrounded by Guardsmen. They weren’t being aggressive towards him, just trying to calm him. But again, no one had listened to his story so he continued to yell. He told me he was tied down because he pulled some scissors on guys who were threatening his family. He said he was trying to defend himself and his family. I felt awful for him, knowing if I was in his situation, I would defend my family no matter what it took.

September 3, 2005 journal entry:

“I am disgusted by the living conditions at the Superdome. There are still hundreds and hundreds of people outside lying in filth—trash, urine, feces, food, liquor. It’s like the smell of Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras times a hundred….

…We walked through the Hyatt to get to the Superdome. In the hotel, it’s pitch black with the smell of urine filling the building. It was frightening to walk through and hear the flopping of my rubber dairy boots on the wet floor. It was slimy and slippery, from God knows what…

…As I looked for some detail shots among the trash on the grounds outside the Superdome, I found an old framed family portrait. I thought it was so sad that someone saved it and brought it all this way through the evacuation but then left it, because they didn’t see value in it any more. It broke my heart…”

I’ve been torn as to how to start this series. It’s so close to my heart and is such a sensitive subject with some folks, I was afraid of what to say.

Then, I found journal entries in my reporter notebooks from that week.

I wrote my first entry when I arrived in Baton Rouge with a reporter named Francis. We stayed at a congressman’s house near the Capitol before we drove into New Orleans. We arrived on Sunday, August 30, 2005, the day after Katrina hit.

I remembered how irritated I was when I left Shreveport (five hours northwest of New Orleans), because my newspaper (The Times) was not willing to let me use a company car. I remembered hearing that a VIP needed it for something and I’d have to take my own. I had just purchased a brand new 2005 Chevy Trailblazer not two months before Katrina. (It still had that new car smell.) I was upset. I thought the least my paper could do was let me use a company car since I was covering a dangerous aftermath of the state’s worst natural disaster.

Then, I arrived in New Orleans and realized my anger and frustration was petty. I was alive. I had a car. And I didn’t live in New Orleans.

I had nothing to complain about.

Most of the images posted here are from Rouse’s Supermarket in Metairie, Louisiana (a suburb of New Orleans). This was one of the first times I saw the chaos of what Katrina had done to these people. Police called taking food and supplies from a supermarket “looting”.

Looting is defined as “anything taken by dishonesty, force, stealth, etc.” Those who were taking DVD players and top-notch Nike shoes are absolutely being dishonest but those who are taking food for their families, are simply trying to survive. FEMA was nowhere near reaching these people and if I was in that situation, I would have done the same thing.

But walking inside a pitch black supermarket where desperate people are fighting for food and water is a scary feeling. My only weapons were my cameras but even so, I was 120 pounds soaking wet. Could I defend myself if something happened? And what would keep them from stealing my gear?

I shot most of my photos outside the supermarket for safety reasons and for light. (It was awful inside--it smelled like bad fish and sour milk.) We met a woman named Hannah who sat and waited with her infant son while her husband went inside to gather whatever food was left. She seemed defeated. Her son was too young to understand, thank God.

Then we met Darmesha, a young girl was “standing guard” by her family’s stash of supplies while they went inside for more. She had a dazed look about her—her eyes were empty and she seemed numb. I’m sure this is the first tragedy of this kind that this little girl has ever experienced.

August 31, 2005 journal entry:

“We finally get out and go to LSU where there’s a special needs shelter set up. We talk to a few people but get kicked off campus fairly quickly by police. I talked to Arthur, a 59-year-old man sitting in a wheelchair outside the shelter. He told me he left his wife and kids in the 7^{t h} Ward (of New Orleans) to go to the Superdome. He’s not sure if they’re alive or what’s left of their house. I can’t imagine what he’s going through and how uncertain he feels his future is…

…What I will remember are the smells, even on the first day. The smell of vomit outside the LSU shelter and the smell of spoiled, rotten food outside Rouse’s Supermarket in Metairie…

…Other journalists are talking about what people have seen as they get into the heart of New Orleans—dead bodies of adults and children floating in the floodwaters, people begging for rescue from their roofs, looting downtown with guns…”

The Photojojo Store takes being a photo geek to a whole new level.

My logo designer, Javier Sola, sent this site to me and I'm dying to spend some hard earned money on these silly, fun photo gadgets.

They have everything from inflatable frames to a camera lens mug! They also make being a photographer even cooler and stranger than it already was. With bowling bags used for SLR cameras and glasses that double as a video camera, I cannot say enough about this weird little photography website.

So the next time you find yourself wondering what to get the photo geek, or photographer, in your life, check out www.photojojo.com.

There’s always a debate about how much access the White House Press Corps should have to the President of the United States.

The latest blunder occurred when the Obama family traveled to Panama City Beach, Florida last weekend. Only one member of the White House staff was allowed to accompany the family to the beach to shoot photos; the other photographers were kept at a hotel for a few hours while the President swam in the ocean.

The White House said the reason they did this was because it was easier to coordinate with a staffer than the press corps. The photographers know it was because showing a bare-chested President Obama in photographs is not a good idea. It happened once before and stirred lots of controversy for the President (see first photo).

The press corps wanted to document the event because seeing the President swim in the Gulf waters after the BP oil spill could be very symbolic. It could help calm the nation’s fears after what has been months of problems due to the spill.

So many interesting and intimate photos have surfaced that were shot because there was great access and a smart photographer captured the moment. I hope the White House sees the value in this and doesn’t keep the photographers at bay.

*Photo credits: (top) unknown; (bottom) Reuters*

An Israeli Reserve officer recently posted photos on her Facebook page of her smiling at blindfolded Palestinian prisoners.

“There’s no violence or intention to humiliate anyone in the pictures,” Eden Abergil tells Army Radio. “I know I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said.

The problem really isn't the photos--compared to the ones that surfaced from Abu Ghraib in 2006, these are in better taste, if that's what you want to call it.

The question is this: when will people stop posting career-damaging photos on social media websites and when will employers stop using personal profile pages as a way to punish them? In most instances, I have to side with the employers. If you're stupid enough to post tasteless photos of yourself abusing a prisoner, getting drunk or doing drugs or maybe just some photos that are a little too sexy, that's your own fault. That’s what privacy settings are for—to exclude those people who shouldn’t see your personal photos.

I don't have government secrets nor do I do drugs or have half-naked photos on my personal Facebook page. BUT, I do have a separate page for my business where clients can still connect with me but they don't have to read if I'm going for a drink with a friend on Friday night. I keep my personal page for my family and friends.

You never know what someone's opinions or prejudices are so I think it's better to be safe.

Another example of Facebook postings gone bad was when Israeli Defense Forces had to cancel a West Bank raid after a soldier posted detailed information on the upcoming mission on his wall.

This month in Cleveland, a woman typed in the name of the woman she thought her husband was having an affair with and photos of his wedding to the mistress at Disney World appeared! The husband claimed she already knew and was doing it as a publicity stunt. Who knows...

Some folks are using the social media for good—or at least to deter others from being bad. The Police Department of Evesham Township, New Jersey has decided to post names and mug shots (arrest photos) of DUI offenders on their Facebook page.

Have we gone too far?

When I read a story about six teenagers drowning in the Red River in Shreveport, La. on Monday, I felt such sadness for the families. None of the parents or children knew how to swim, yet they decided to have a barbeque by the river and wade in the water. It upsets me that parents would plan this outing knowing that if an accident happened, not one person there could help.

This story reminded me of my spot news days working at a paper. I worked as a photojournalist in Shreveport for four years before moving back to my hometown of Tampa, Florida to open my freelance business. One of the reasons I left the newspaper industry was because I wasn’t meant to shoot spot news.

I remember how the “subjects” used to look when I would come on scene with my cameras slung over my shoulders, ready to document the worst day in their lives.

No one really understands what it’s like to do a job until you are asked to do it. I loved my job as a newspaper photojournalist. There were good and bad days (and assignments) like any job but I really felt like some of the work I did made a difference.

Then there were the days like Monday. I know how the photographer might have felt; pulling up to the riverbanks and knowing that there would be intense, raw emotion pouring out of this family.

It’s hard to photograph days like these but it can be helpful. Many great photographs taken under stress and taken of awful situations have led to good things—legislation to prevent the same crime from happening, a fund set up for the victim’s family, awareness of a social issue, etc.

One of the last major events I photographed before leaving the newspaper world was Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, La. It was the hardest assignment I shot. I’d never truly documented the destruction a natural disaster like a Category 5 hurricane leaves behind. I’d covered car accidents, fires, murders, etc. but never something on that scale. So many people were affected and I felt that my personal safety was always in question.

I applaud those photographers who cover wars and disasters and manage to remove themselves from the chaos to photograph what’s happening and do their job. It takes a special person to do this and I hope others understand what sacrifices these journalists make to bring the news to you.

So, next time you see photos of a major tragedy like September 11, 2001, the Haiti earthquake, Hurricane Katrina, Iraq war or the Indonesian tsunami, think of the guts and strength it took for someone to snap the shutter. Some news photos are incredibly hard to view; imagine how hard it was to shoot.

*Photo by Jessica Leigh Photography*

I saw this list and had to repost it. Being born and raised in Tampa, Florida, I understand each and every one of these "facts"! Enjoy!

You know you're a Floridian if....

Socks are only for bowling.

You never use an umbrella because you know the rain will be over in
five minutes.

A good parking place has nothing to do with distance from the store,
but everything to do with shade.

Your winter coat is made of denim.

You can tell the difference between fire ant bites and mosquito bites.

You're younger than thirty but some of your friends are over 65.

Anything under 70 degrees is chilly.

You've driven through Yeehaw Junction.

You know that no other grocery store can compare to Publix.

Every other house in your neighborhood had blue roofs in 2004-2005.

You know that anything under a Category 3 just isn't worth waking up for.

You dread love bug season.

You are on a first name basis with the Hurricane list. They aren't
Hurricane Charley or Hurricane Frances. You know them as Andrew,
Charley, Frances , Ivan, Jeanne & Wilma...Irene...Cheryl...Rita
Mary..Alison

You know what a snowbird is and when they'll leave.

You think a six-foot alligator is actually pretty average.

'Down South' means Key West

Flip-flops are everyday wear. Shoes are for business meetings and
church, but you HAVE worn flip flops to church before.

You have a drawer full of bathing suits, and one sweatshirt.

You get annoyed at the tourists who feed seagulls.

A mountain is any hill 100 feet above sea level.

You know the four seasons really are: Hurricane season, love bug
season, tourist season and summer.

You've hosted a hurricane party.

You can pronounce Okeechobee, Kissimmee , Withlacoochee , Thonotosassa
and Micanopy.

You understand why it's better to have a friend with a boat, than have
a boat yourself.

You were 25 when you first met someone who couldn't swim.

You've worn shorts and used the A/C on Christmas and New Years.

You recognize Miami-Dade as ' Northern Cuba '

You understand all of this.

(Photo by Jessica Leigh Photography)

Astronomers have figured out how to photograph the entire universe using a telescope millions of miles from Earth. The end product is quite beautiful.

To learn what exactly it is that we see in this amazing photo, please take a look at this article. It will blow your mind!

*Photo by the European Space Agency.*

If I had a dollar for every time I encountered an article about a “Photoshop-altered image”, well, I’d have some extra spending cash which I would probably use to by the newest version of Photoshop.

BP has yet again become a big blog topic due to three photos that were released of their cleanup efforts in the Gulf of Mexico. The photos were clearly altered and whoever did it, used a cut and paste technique that did not make the new versions realistic.

I’ve ranted on my blog many a time about altering digital photos and what it can do to my profession and the credibility of all photographers. It cannot become the norm for anyone—photographers, editors, designers or even CEOs.

The reason this particular incident upsets me is because BP is in enough trouble already—they have tarnished their image this year, possibly forever. How would this kind of stunt help? Someone always finds out…thank God for the photo geeks who find these problems. Plus, BP’s reaction to it is that they are now blaming the contract photographer for altering the image and claiming no responsibility of their own.

The photographer may have done this on their own (and for that they should be punished) but BP is forgetting the one lesson they should have learned in the last three months: one mistake can take an entire company down.

View the before and after images here.

*Photo courtesy of BP via Flickr.*

One of the most powerful and in-depth photo stories I have ever viewed won the 2010 Pulitzer Prize for feature photography.

Denver Post photographer Craig F. Walker received the award to bring the Post’s Pulitzer total to six.

For more than two years, Walker documented a “boy” named Ian Fisher as he graduated from high school, joined the Army and was deployed to Iraq. Walker’s access and creativity to make every frame different after years covering the same subject is inspiring. Through his images, you can see his passion to tell this story in particular. He didn’t have a model soldier as a subject. He didn’t just want the typical “war images” from Iraq that we have all become numb to after seeing so many of them.

The story is called “Ian Fisher: American Soldier” and I highly recommend you take time out of your day to see what really happens when young men are asked to take on more responsibility than they can handle.

There are so few storytellers left in photojournalism that are given the time and resources to pursue a story and finish it. My thanks go to the Denver Post for giving Walker what he needed to make this an award-winning piece of art.

*Photo by Craig F. Walker*