Word: cameramen
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Instead H. R. H. took the wheel of his car again, drove to the north entrance of No. 10 Downing St. just off the Horse Guards Parade. For nearly an hour he conferred with Mr. Stanley Baldwin. News cameramen, mostly the hardest-boiled of journalists, were asked by Edward not to snap him "in the circumstances." Not a single camera was raised, not a single shutter snapped...
There newshawks chattered at the extended press tables. Capitol policemen in uniform circulated through the moving throng, trying to maintain order. A little knot of elderly financiers from Manhattan stood by themselves like new arrivals to be introduced at a large reception. And everywhere cameramen swarmed, climbed over one another, mounted chairs & tables, formed a living pyramid above half a dozen Senators who sat, all but lost from sight, at a long table at the end of the room...
From camouflaged amplifiers high over-head a hollow voice suddenly began to croak: Senator Gerald P. Nye was saying that as soon as the witnesses had been sworn, cameramen would please retire. Three white-thatched witnesses stood up. The amplifiers carried the clunk-clunk-clunk of cameras along with the words of the oath. Flashlamps flickered like heat lightning...
...speechless," sat down. Later he developed a pat speech praising technical develop ments in U. S. cinema. Up to last week Author Wells firmly preserved the appearance of a pleasant, reserved, phlegmatic Briton. Last week, ready to leave the U. S., h.e was asked to pose for news-cameramen. Gaily borrowing a camera, he stuck a press badge in his hat, pretended to be snapping Musicomedy Star Ethel (You're the Top) Merman (see cut). Asked in Manhattan for a statement on the state of the world, he declared: Gentlemen, in his next picture Charlie Chaplin will not talk...
...calm, misty evening the S. S. American Importer arrived at Liverpool, stood off the entrance to the Mersey River all night. Next morning it was raining. The dock was jampacked with newshawks, cameramen, workers, who thought they glimpsed the Lindberghs on deck, with Jon in his mother's arms. A tug warped the ship into its berth. A platoon of muttering bobbies carved a lane through the throng, stood in two rows staring into each other's faces. Charles and Anne Lindbergh, pale, came swiftly down the gangplank. A scattered, throaty cheer went up. Some...