Grant Haller's photo of Mt. Saint Helens. Photo courtesy Grant M. Haller for the P-I. View more Seattle P–I photos.

Reflections of Post-Intelligencer Photographer Grant Haller

03/10/2009

While few can argue with the quality of the Seattle Post–Intelligencer's daily news and investigative reports, parent company Hearst only sees a shrinking bottom line. When the paper does close, more than 100 journalists will likely lose their jobs. For P–I staff photographer Grant Haller, the end of the P–I could mean the end of a 40–year career. KUOW's Patricia Murphy reports.

The midday sun darts in and out of the clouds outside the P–I's offices on Elliot Avenue. It's a slow news day, the photo shop bright and quiet. Photographer Grant Haller sits at his desk clicking through the day's emails. He takes a moment to reflect on the future of his paper.

Haller: "They say all of us are fired, everybody from the publisher down. You know, they made a lot of money off these papers in their heyday. Um, it's really sad that they can't make a go of it. I wish it wasn't true. I keep expecting Hearst to do something."

Haller has bushy, grey hair, suspenders and a blue checked shirt. He looks to be a cross between Jerry Garcia and Wavy Gravy. Haller had planned to retire in a few years, but this forced ending is unsettling.

Haller's been taking pictures for the P–I since 1974. The newspaper business is part of his identity.

Haller: "I'm snoopy. I'm inquisitive. I want to know why things happen. And a newspaper gives you that thing that says, 'Oh excuse me, sir, why are you building this boat in your yard?' You know, and then you can find out that he's retired and he's been building this boat for 30 years and he and his wife are going to sail around the world."

Haller says he's photographed thousands of people over the years and some really do have an amazing ability to close their eyes for almost every picture. But there are some tricks.

Haller: "If you're photographing somebody that does something — if it's painting or wood carving or whatever — if you can get them to do what they do and love to do, that's when those pictures start to make sense."

There are many things involved in taking a great news photo, like knowing your equipment so well it becomes an extension of your body, trusting your gut instinct. But sometimes is simply a matter of choosing the right direction.

Haller: "I'll always remember a black contractor's demonstration up at Edison which is now Seattle Central. I'm there and [so is] Cole Porter from the Times. And Cole goes to the left and I go to the right. Partially because we don't want to go to the same place the Times is going, we want to get a different view. And Cole got this great picture of this chair being thrown through the window from the outside, and the glass, and it was a really good picture and I got nothing. You know it was really boring. You know that was the difference between going left and right."

Nearby staff photographer Josh Trujillo is trying to figure out his next move. He's sitting on an exercise ball working on his resume.

Haller: "You going to that meeting tonight? Isn't that meeting tonight to buy the company or something?"

Trujillo: "Tomorrow at 1:00 p.m. is the unemployment meeting."

Haller: "No, I'm talking about the six o'clock one."

Trujillo sums up the exchange in a few words. Too many meetings, he says, not enough journalism.

Haller is on the phone.

Haller: "I'm trying to reach Mike Alexi."

Haller has no assignments for the day. The paper has cancelled all futures meetings. He decides to go shoot some pictures of a yoga class on the east side for a small business segment that the P–I runs. We've got just over a half an hour to make it to Kirkland.

We go down to the garage. Haller's green KIA Reo named Ricky has 128,000 miles on it.

The inside of the car is in shambles.

Haller: "Sorry for the messy car."

The back seat is piled with clothes, a construction hat, and I think I see waders. Haller hopes the sloppy look of his car will deter thieves from breaking in and stealing the $40,000 worth of equipment he's got stuffed in there.

As we pull out of the garage, he debates with himself about which route to take.

Haller: "I know this is really the stupidest way to go."

The yoga shoot is a mundane assignment considering Haller's history with the paper. He's shot every Mariners opening day for 35 years, photographed the Gulf War, the explosion of Mount St. Helens, and spent time embedded with the Navy aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln.

The yoga shoot is easy and uneventful. Haller darts around trying to make something distinctive from the conventional.

Back at the P–I, Haller loads and labels his photos. In the end, he'll pick three from the 30 or so he took.

Downstairs, photo director John Dickson's desk is stacked with old photos. He's sorting through the paper's 126–year history. On Dickson's computer screen is one of Haller's most recognizable photographs. In it, Mount St. Helens spouts a giant ash plume that looks like a face.

Dickson: "You have a nice big framed print of that somewhere?"

Haller: "I did. I used to sell that thing for 250 bucks a piece. God, just looking at that picture makes the hair on my arms come up."

Haller took the photo from a fixed–wing plane. At one point, the aircraft lost altitude when it flew right through the ash plume and the engine started to sputter.

Haller: "The pilot, Sully O'Rourke, said he liked flying with us because we weren't afraid to die."

As the story goes, the pilot turned off his transponder because he was too close to the mountain.

Haller: "I was told that he was fined $10,000 for getting me that close and the P–I paid it."

The longer Dickson flips through photos, the more nostalgic Haller gets, recalling situations around pictures he took more than 30 years ago. The memories and years of photos only reinforce Haller's feelings of loss over his paper and his sense of duty as a photojournalist.

Haller: "We have a responsibility to make images for people who can't go."

He says the P–I's closure will mean there will be 125 fewer reporters out on the streets taking notes and keeping tabs on city and state government.

Haller: "You know, what do you do with an investigative reporter? How many papers have the money to hire an investigative reporter?"

It also means the P–I's rivalry with the Times has come to an end.

Haller: "We really work hard to beat The Seattle Times, that's our competition and it's too bad that we've lost."

Talk of an online version of the P–I upsets Haller. Right now it looks like, if it does happen, the site would be some form of news aggregator. Under that model, Haller says local news would be non–existent.

Haller: "The one thing that you can't do is outsource reporters and photographers. Somebody has to be there to go clicky–clicky."

Patricia Murphy, KUOW News.

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