The West of Herb and Dorothy McLaughlin

HERB & DOROTHY MCLAUGHLIN'S BY JAMES E. COOK WEST

Arizona's almost unbelievable natural beauty doesn't have to be spelled out for readers of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS. Herb and Dorothy McLaughlin, and other photographers, have worked for decades to capture that poetic scenery through the lenses of their cameras. But for the McLaughlins and for other people, the state has provided another kind of beauty. It is a way of living that would be hard to match elsewhere. They say it is a happy combination of the land itself, the climate and the people. There are a lot more people here than there were when they came in the 1940s. Many of them are here because they can live their lives freely and openly in the varied land that is Arizona. For the McLaughlins, the state has provided a con-stantly changing backdrop, thousands of locations against which they practice their profession. They call it photographic illus-tration: using their cameras and their imaginations, to interpret Arizona's backdrop in a way that will please advertising agencies, industries and national publications. But like working cowboys who spend their days off at jackpot roping contests, they shoot the pictorial shots, the scenic photographs. On weekends or in moments left over from com-mercial jobs, they try to interpret in their own way the things that nature did for Arizona. The joint credit line which they frequently use, "Photo-graph by Herb and Dorothy McLaughlin," suggests two people Many professional photographers, including some of our prime contributors react negative whenever people are part of the composition.

The McLaughlins realize the importance of people in photographs for use in travel brochures or general human interest illustrations and work with professional models, or on-the-spot groups.

Top left to right: Fishing in White Mountains Fun at the Snow Bowl, Flagstaff Sullivan Lake - Chino Valley Center left: Barry Goldwater, Grand Marshal, Prescott 4th of July Parade Lower left to right: Parada Del Sol Rodeo, Scottsdale Colossal Cave, Tucson Kennecott-Hayden reverb furnace

Wrestling with an enormous, complicated camera to take a single photograph. But, as Herb says: "The real reason is a lot of times we don't know who took which photograph. We often hear the shutters on our cameras go off at the same time."

Covering Prescott's Frontier Days parade one Fourth of July, they told Senator Barry Goldwater that when he got to a certain street corner he would hear Herb yell. Would he please wave with his white hat? Herb covered the corner from a ladder on a truck behind the crowd. Dorothy worked from the curb in front of the crowd. When Herb called, Barry waved, with a big grin. Because of the camera angles, they knew which photograph was whose when the film was processed.

"The horse had taken half a step between Dot's photograph and mine," Herb said.

"It was a natural," he said, "but I had a Hasselblad with a two-hundred-and-fifty-millimeter telephoto lens. That put me too close to the bear." He called for Dorothy. She hurried over with a shorter lens in time to catch the splashing bear. The photograph became a magazine cover.

"During twenty-one years of living, working and traveling together," Herb said, "we have developed an uncanny communication with each other. We don't always completely understand each other, but about ninety-nine percent of the time we do."

Herb is from Hammond, Indiana. He started out as a newspaper photographer there and at Purdue and Indiana universities, where he covered for the Indianapolis papers. Before and during World War II, he stayed busy as a news and industrial photographer in and around Chicago. But about one month out of every year he ended up flat on his back with hayfever and asthma. In 1945 the doctor suggested he move to the Southwest. Herb moved his photographic business to Phoenix.

During the same period, Dorothy had moved from Central Utah, where she had helped found that state's commercial turkey industry. She has taken care of as many as 20,000 turkeys, living in camp wagons and doing the menial tasks. "I don't think I could do it any more," she says.

They were married in 1950, the second marriage for each. When they met, Dorothy already was familiar with the credit line "Herb McLaughlin," because she had seen it in ARIZONA HIGHWAYS. Herb started taking photographs for the magazine soon after he arrived in Arizona, wandering the Monument Valley area with Highways editor Raymond Carlson and running the Colorado River with pioneer riverman Art Greene.

In the beginning, Dorothy was not a photographer. She tried working in the front office and didn't like it, so she began taking care of their growing library of photographs. But one day a client asked for a picture of a child crying for a Fourth of July safety advertisement. Partner Ziggy Ziegler taught her how to use a Rolleiflex. She took the photograph and has been at it since. Photographing children became one of her specialties, and won her some prizes. That is not to say that she is limited to that. The McLaughlins also work independently, and she may be making an advertising photograph while Herb is doing photojournalism for an industrial client.

Since the 1950s they have tried to build a national clientele for advertising, industrial and journalistic work, interpreting visions for a four-day trip. The first day, one of the motors conked out. They switched to the second motor. Late in the second day, it quit. It took two days to float back downstream without power, while Herb photographed the multi-colored sandstone gorge.

Dorothy in crash boat at Lake Havasu test run

"It was a great boat ride," Herb said. "But we didn't get to see Rainbow Bridge until after Lake Powell filled. Now it's an easy boat trip from Wahweap, half a day up, half a day back."

Taking scenic photographs for a showcase magazine like ARIZONA HIGHWAYS, for their stock photo files, is one kind of photography. But in their commercial work they use some tricks of the trade that are No-Nos to purist photographers who rely only on the lens, the shutter and nature. Frequently, trying to meet a deadline set in New York or Chicago, they don't have time to wait for nature to provide the ideal conditions.

For instance, they may have a transparency which shows a great scene below the horizon but a plain sky. They might sandwich the transparency with another of the sun or moon in a colorful sky. It is poetic license and that is why the McLaughlins are careful to call themselves photographic illustrators.

"We illustrate like a painter does," Herb said. "A painter can eliminate power poles and other unwanted objects from his painting, or move things around. We can't do that, of course, but we can use some other creative techniques, in and out of the darkroom."

This "interpretation" has caused some funny moments. One time their oldest son, Joe, was home from college and the three of them went to the White Mountains for a long weekend of fishing, loafing and photographing.

"We drove past one spot where water had gathered in a little pond," Herb said. "Part of the bank had broken and there was a little waterfall running into a culvert and under the road. I figured I could eliminate the road and make it look like a scene out in the middle of the forest for our stock files."

They tied a rock to the end of Joe's fishing line and posed him on the bank. They posed his bright red tackle box right next to him. Herb would get the camera set, yell "Okay, action now," and Joe would bend the rod so it looked like there was a nice big fish on the end.

"About that time," Herb said, "a couple of Apaches came driving down the road, did a double take and came sliding to a halt. They knew there were no fish in that pond."

But they take the pure scenic photographs too. And even in their commercial work they would prefer to have nature provide the scene or the sunset as time permits. One advantage that some other pictorial photographers don't have is that they can keep each other company while they wait for the right cloud formation or the delicate shade of lighting they're after. Their favorite spot?

Dorothy answers, "I think the two that most photographers would pick, Monument Valley and the Grand Canyon. They are the places that are always changing. Every time we go, we see a different angle, something new, different lightings, different colorings.

Herb's introduction to Monument Valley and its bestknown resident, Harry Goulding, came in the late 1940s during a trip with Raymond Carlson. It had rained heavily on the Navajo Reservation, and it was getting dark. There was no way of telling whether the next puddle in the road would be two inches deep, or two feet deep.

"While we were worrying about that," Herb said, "we hit a wash that had literally washed away the road. The front end of the car was hanging over about three feet of air, but the back end was still on solid ground. We finally backed out of that and drove around the washout."

But the next puddle they hit was a real quagmire. They bogged down. Herb said, "Fortunately, Harry Goulding was expecting us. When we didn't show up at his place, he came looking for us. We went back the next day and got the car."

Years later, Herb and Dorothy were working in Monument Valley with a Navajo woman called Happy, one of the better-known Indian models. Although she has since died, they still see her in photographs.

"She was popular because she spoke English," Dorothy said, "even though she always claimed she didn't. Anyway, we were driving toward some sand and she kept saying 'No, no, no.' We no more got into the sand than we got stuck.

"Happy got out of the car and started trotting up the hill and I thought, 'Boy, she's deserted us and we're really left alone now.' Monument Valley is one of the loneliest looking places. But she got to the top of the hill and began yelling 'Whoooo!' Pretty soon, two Navajo cowboys came from out of nowhere and pulled us out with their horses."

Sometimes they have to get their models where they can find them. Once at the Snow Bowl, they had to borrow two Phoenix doctors and their families for a travel magazine cover. The intended models didn't show up. Another time, they needed people in a photograph of the Grand Canyon.

"We asked one family group if they would help us out," Herb said. "We explained that since the photograph was for an advertisement, they would have to sign a release for use of the picture. It turned out they were a family from Mexico touring Arizona. They were tickled pink that we'd taken their picture at the Grand Canyon. We sent them copies of it and they sent us back a stack of books about Mexico to show the beauties of their country. We corresponded for a long while."

The best places for scenic photographs often are the most requested locations for commercial work, either on assignment or from the McLaughlins' stock files. Over the years they have

We asked the McLaughlins to do a photograph of the Governor not sitting at his desk. The result is this outstanding picture.

From right to left: Governor Jack Williams.

State Attorney General, Gary Nelson.

State Treasurer, Ernest Garfield.

Superintendent of Public Instruction, Dr. Weldon P. Shofstall.

Photographed in Arizona's State Capitol.

phoenix 1870-1970

This photographic history depicting the first hundred years of Phoenix, Arizona, is first and last a work of love. And for Herb and Dorothy McLaughlin it is love on the double standards of photography and their favorite city. I have known the McLaughlins for two decades. Herb since his arrival from Indiana, and Dorothy fresh from her turkey queen days in Utah. They've both been involved in photography in a rare 24 hours-a-day, 365days-a-year mutually compatible relationship. They work at it and live with it. Their love for Phoenix was a loveat-first-sight affair for each of them, and it happened at a time when Phoenix was new and young and growing into the beautiful lady we all love today.

It was the salubrious climate, sure enough, which brought them here, but it was the fast-moving, everchanging, healthy and wealthy way of life which embraced them and made them feel that they were welcome and this was home forever more. The McLaughlins were quickly aware that there was more history being born with every sunrise only to pass with each sunset than their cameras could be exposed to. Things were happening so fast that yesterday was old the day after tomorrow. Suddenly they found themselves "hooked" on what for them has turned out to be a romance with Phoenix through historical photographs. Phoenix 1870-1970 is visual proof that everyone involved has produced what I believe is one of the finest documentary publications ever done.

Herb and Dorothy McLaughlin are more than publishers. Of course they've put their time, experience and money on the line, but more than anything else is the measure of love they've put into it. They've given us something to be proud to show to our children and they to theirs. Without it Phoenicians of tomorrow would miss the legacy contained herein the treasury of Phoenix as it was from 1870 to 1970. Raymond Carlson, Editor Arizona Highways Magazine

phoenix 1870-1970 IN PHOTOGRAPHS

"... we are prone to forget that a lot of work, a lot of tears, and a lot of time have been expended to make Phoenix the great city that it is. Looking through these pages brought back literally hundreds of wonderful memories that have not gone through my mind in years."

"Graphically shown in an unsurpassed collection of photographs never before assembled are the men and women and their achievements from 1870-1970 that today is Phoenix and the Valley of the Sun."

If Phoenix 1870-1970 is not available at your favorite book dealer, a limited supply is available through Phoenix 1870-1970. Copies are available at $20.00 per copy (plus Arizona taxes of 80 if you are a resident of Arizona and 30 shipping charge) at the office of: Phoenix 1870-1970 2350 West Holly Phoenix, Arizona 85009 "A great past is revisited through the pages of this photographic documentary that makes our Western heritage come alive again. A Centennial treasure!"

Herb's photograph of Montezuma Castle, taken before the Park Service removed the old wooden ladders from the cliff dwelling for safety reasons, is still in demand. So is Dorothy's photograph of the Superstition Mountains with three saguaros (they call them "The Three Sisters") in the foreground.

An agency in London handles their photographs in 32 countries. They They have found that in Germany, for instance, they like cowboy and Indian pictures. And a posed photograph of Bud Brown's stagecoach running through the forest near Prescott was never used in this country, but it was a calendar picture in England. In France, they go for wildflowers and cactus.

One of Herb's favorite hunting grounds is the western section of Saguaro National Monument, in the Tucson Moun-tains. In the early spring after a wet winter, new growth on the giant cactus gives them a whole new look. But Herb said there is so much to photograph, so many possible camera angles, that picking the right view can drive a photographer out of his mind.

Often they have to steal time for such photography in the evening after a commercial job is done. On one recent trip to Tucson to photograph golf courses for a national magazine (with the usual help from the chamber of commerce and golf pros), they squeezed out time to try for some different views of a perennial favorite for photographers, the Mission of San Xavier del Bac, and to make their first visit to another gap in their education, Colossal Cave. The McLaughlin name was familiar from ARIZONA HIGHWAYS, so the people who run the caverns offered the customary: "What can we do to help you?"

Because some of the best lighting and shadows are in late afternoon and early evening, the McLaughlins have been the last ones out of the Petrified Forest before the park rangers locked the gates for the night. Then it was a fast run to Hol-brook to try to find a motel room for the night. They made it, but that is not always the case. Dorothy explains, "We try to hit a good motel every night because we figure that after a long day's work runs into the evening, the least we deserve is a good bed and bath. But we can't make reservations because we're never sure where we're going to be."

Herb added, "And sometimes we get into town and find that, unbeknownst to us, a convention or a celebration of some kind has filled all the rooms."

By necessity, they have discovered an ace in the hole that many travelers probably don't think of, the colorful old hotels in most Arizona towns. They have stayed at the Dominion in Globe, named for the famous Old Dominion Mine, and at the Gadsden in Douglas. They say the Copper Queen in Bisbee has a quiet dignity about it, a nice dining room and good service. Dorothy says the classic example is El Tovar at Grand Canyon.

"It has big bathtubs, hot water, some elegance to it that you just don't get in the new ones," she said. Herb added, "And there's always the feeling that you just might be sleeping in the same bed that Theodore Roosevelt slept in."

The appeal of “A story with a happy ending” is instant and appeared in an Eastman Kodak trade advertisement.

The importance of environment and the right properties result in pictures that express much with few words. The photograph “Wild Country,” left, is not a paid advertisement. It is shown merely to illustrate the versatility and application of experience and elements in the realm of creative photography. Both Wild Country and the photograph shown at right were featured in articles appearing in “Applied Photography,” the Eastman Kodak company's pace-setter publication edited by William A. Reedy

The many Indian festivals and ceremonials throughout the Southwest attract professional and amateur photographers. Here are three Hopi Ceremonial Dancers and lower right, Indian girl making masa from corn.

It takes the right equipment and an uncommon sense of timing to come through with pictures that communicate the mood and the action relative to the excitement of boat racing.

Desert moods vary with the time of day and atmospheric factors which usually cannot be predicted. The photographer must be ready to react instantly when the lighting and composition and focus are in almost simultaneous coordination or in other words, instant decision.