Block · one region of the page, as the scanner read it. It may hold a whole story, part of one, several, or an advertisement; stitching blocks into articles is the next step. Text is supplied OCR.
Page 10 · column 6 of 6 · from the scan, no model involved
Fd already seen and greeted Harmon’s Hayrides owner-operator Midge Harmon and daughter-in-law Sue - they assured me Karry and Dempsey were polished and poised, and that they’d clop up the driveway momentarily, tagging along 2,000 pounds worth of Christmas tree.
I nervously played with camera settings while trying to stay low, out of the way of the Reuter’s guy with all the horse’s, err, hindquarters jokes. A nice redhead from UPI wanted to talk steeplechasing as soon as she saw my AHP credential. She assured me she’d shot “that big race in England, over those big brushes.’’ We were comparing notes on Aintree when the NBC guy said “here they come” to his sound man.
I heard the jingle bells from way back.
I straightened, firing the full seven frames-per-second even as twd tons of shiny Belgian horseflesh were mere dots in my viewfinder.
Here they come! Focus. Shoot. Re-focus. Shoot. Change a setting. Shoot some more. Swap cameras. Repeat. The AP man took two frames -1 swear - and turned back to an intense conversation about the Palestine situation he was having with a visiting photographer with a French accent.
No matter, I thought as I continued firing, ducking and moving to frame a shot of the horses — and the 20-foot tree — in the White House portico. The First Lady came out. Said a few kind words. Nodded at the horses. Left.
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