David Hume Kennerly

50th Anniversary of the “Fight of the Century”

March 3, 2021 By David Hume Kennerly

In late 1970 I hounded the bosses at United Press International (UPI) to send me to Vietnam to cover the fighting. The opportunity was slipping away as the U.S. withdrew its troops and transferred the responsibility of conducting the war to the government of South Vietnam. As a young news photographer this was the biggest American story of my generation, the kind I lived to tell, and I didn’t want to miss it.

In January of 1971 UPI finally agreed to transfer me to Saigon. I was going to replace Kent Potter who had been covering Vietnam for three years. Potter and I were the same age, 23. I was really excited about finally being able to get to the action. Although several photographers had died there over the years, I hadn’t let that bother me, until two weeks later on February 10, when four photographers were shot down in a helicopter over Laos and were killed. A personal hero of mine Larry Burrows of LIFE, Henri Huet of AP, Keisaburo Shimamoto of Newsweek, and UPI’s Kent Potter who was supposed to switch out with me. Although I didn’t know Potter it freaked me out to think of stepping into his job under these circumstances. What was I doing? This was seeming totally nuts and even more dangerous all of a sudden. I started to have grave second thoughts, but the idea of changing my mind and not going seemed like an even worse option. I also didn’t want to look back years later and regret not doing it, an even scarier thought.

The next few weeks turned into one big going away bash. It seemed like I and everyone else thought this was going to be a one-way trip, so the theme became, Let’s Party!

As a parting gift to me, or perhaps a guilty farewell present because they knew I was going off to my death, the UPI brass offered me a coveted assignment. A ringside position at the Ali-Frazier “Fight of the Century" at Madison Square Garden in New York on March 8th. It was my last domestic job before shipping out to Vietnam.

When fight day arrived I was totally fatigued from too much booze, cigarettes, and fun . . . The afternoon of the fight I could barely move. I was staying at friend and mentor Dirck Halstead’s place in NYC. As I was preparing to drag myself out the door to go the fight he took one look at me and said, “Jesus Kennerly, you look like shit, here, take this pill.” I had no idea what it was, but I definitely needed something.

By the time I got to the Garden I was on fire. My eyes were wide, my reflexes cat-like. The spiderwebs had been exorcised from my brain. Bring ‘em on, I couldn’t wait for the main event.

Screen Shot by David Burnett of me Photographing Fight.

I was squeezed in between three other photographers as we all leaned over the apron of the ring trying to shoot under the ropes. Turned out I couldn’t miss. In the fifth round I froze Frazier as he drove a right hook into Ali’s head that ricocheted off his face. It happened in a nanosecond. Ali’s expression was contorted by the force of the blow.

NEW YORK -- MARCH 8: Muhummad Ali takes a hit from Joe Frazier during their heavyweight match in Madison Square Garden, March 8, 1971, (photo by David Hume Kennerly)

As the fight culminated in the 15th and final round it appeared that Frazier was ahead.

Smokin’ Joe sealed the deal with a lightning-fast left hook that knocked Ali off his feet. This video shows just how fast it all happened.

I caught The Greatest as he headed down. In my head it was slow motion, in reality it was a fraction of a second, and I nailed it.

The final bell rang, and Frazier raised his gloved hand in victory right above me. After the fight, Larry DeSantis, UPI’s chief editor, congratulated me on my coverage.

I woke up the next morning to see my Ali knockdown photo on the front of the New York Times. It was also my 24th birthday. I also scored the front of the New York Daily News with my image of Frazier landing the right to Ali’s head. Being published on page one of both those papers when they had several of their own photogs at the event was unprecedented, and my colleagues most likely weren’t happy about it. I was probably going to be safer in Vietnam! That photo of Ali falling also became part of my Pulitzer portfolio for the work I did in 1971. It included photos from the Vietnam War, Cambodia combat, and refugees pouring into India from East Pakistan.

The only other person who caught that decisive moment was Elliot Erwitt who was up in the stands shooting for Magnum.

His wide shot must have been taken within a millisecond of mine, because it happened so fast and ended almost as soon as it started. I am in Elliott’s frame, second from left of the four photographers on the apron in the foreground as Ali goes down.

The day after the fight I asked Dirck what the hell he gave me. “That was a purple heart,” he said. (Further research revealed that the tag came from the pill’s triangular shape and blue color. Officially it was Dexamyl, a mood elevator that was an amphetamine/barbiturate combo). First and last time I took one of those, but who knows what would have happened otherwise. One thing’s certain, and this can be corroborated by family and friends, I usually produce plenty of my own energy, and that’s normally how I fly!

How To Transition

January 19, 2021 By David Hume Kennerly

President Gerald R. Ford held his first meeting with President-elect Jimmy Carter on November 22, 1976, thirteen years to the day after President John F. Kennedy was assassinated. It was the first time Carter had been in the White House.

The two sat in the Oval Office under the portrait of George Washington that hangs over the fireplace. After the press “photo op” they were alone. I was behind the president’s desk looking for an angle when President Ford unexpectedly reached out and shook hands with Carter, saying, “I’m sorry, but I haven’t formally congratulated you on winning the election.” It was a spontaneous moment not for the public benefit, but a genuine signal of respect. My wide angle frame of that gesture featured the desk in the foreground, covered with papers. On the other side of that historic room, the man who would be president shook hands with the man who was. In my mind it showed the vastness of the job with mere mortals in temporary custody of its powers.

President Ford had conceded to Carter the morning after the election, and pledged a smooth transition. Ford’s chief of staff Dick Cheney led the effort for the president, and Jack Watson for Carter. Ford told Cheney to take the lead in the process, and that’s what he did. Ford’s cooperation even went back to before Carter was elected. Right after he was nominated at the Democratic convention in New York, the president directed that Carter be given highly classified intelligence briefings so he would be more prepared if he won the election. To show his seriousness about it, the president had the head of the CIA, George H.W. Bush, personally brief Carter at his home in Plains, Georgia.

By the time Carter got to the White House for his initial visit, three weeks had elapsed since the election, but the transition was fully underway. The two met privately, and discussed every element of the job, particularly what was happening in the area of national security. Cheney and Watson, along with Counsellor Jack Marsh, talked in the Cabinet Room before joining the oval office meeting. The president and Carter went through binders filled with material that had been provided by the Ford team. They talked about everything from family to foreign leaders.

WASHINGTON DC - NOVEMBER 22: (NO U.S. TABLOID SALES) President-elect Jimmy Carter meets President FordÕs longtime personal secretary, Dorothy Downton, in the presidentÕs private study November 22, 1976. President Ford offered Carter the use of the office during the transition.(Photo by David Hume Kennerly/ Getty Images)

As their meeting ended, President Ford told President-elect Carter that he wanted to show him something. They went to his private “hideway” right next to the oval office. Ford’s personal secretary Dorthey Downton was there. President Ford made a from-the-heart offer. He said, “Jimmy, I’d like you to have this office during the transition if you want.” He told the president-elect that he would be available to him anytime. Carter seemed taken aback at the proposal. Ms. Downtown, on the other hand, appeared to regard Carter as if he had just landed from Mars. Like many of us, this wasn’t a visit she had been welcoming. As magnanimous as was the proposition to take over his private office, neither Cheney or Watson thought it was a good idea, and apparently not the president-elect either. He didn’t want to muddy the waters as to whom was in charge until he took over, and he spent most of his transition time back home in Plains.

When the two leaders walked out of their meeting to greet the press, President-elect Carter told them, “There cannot have been a better demonstration of unity and friendship and good will than there has been shown to me by President Ford since the election. I believe that this year's debates and the election itself has reached a conclusion which leaves our country unified, and I have expressed many times in the last few weeks my deep appreciation to President Ford for the gracious way in which he has welcomed me.”

President Ford responded by saying that he had, “re‐emphasized to Governor Carter that my administration would cooperate 100 percent in making certain that the transition would he carried out in the best interest of the American people.”

When they finished talking to reporters after their meeting, President-elect Carter turned to President Ford before walking to his car and said, “God bless you.”

On his final half-day in the White House on January 20, 1977, President Ford was particularly anxious to thank the White House Residence staff for all they had done for him and his family in the two and a half years that they occupied 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. He popped into the kitchen to say goodbye, searched the hallways to make sure he didn’t miss anyone, and bid a final farewell to one of his favorite staffers underneath a portrait of Abraham Lincoln in the State Dining Room. It was emotional for all of us.

Later that morning the Fords greeted the Carters as they arrived at the White House for what has become a traditional rite, a pre-Inaugural coffee in the Blue Room of the Executive Mansion. I caught a glance of Carter looking at Ford with an expression that seemed somewhere between awe and, “what have I gotten myself into?” It was a friendly gathering, considering the circumstances. The two leaders had a quiet and private moment, a portrait of George Washington between them. I felt the history.

President Ford wanted a group photo of everyone, and assembled Vice President and Mrs. Nelson Rockefeller, and Vice President-elect and Mrs. Walter Mondale. If you didn’t know what was happening it looked like a group of old friends, not the heads of the incoming and outgoing administrations.

Then it was time for the Fords and Carters to take that short journey up Pennsylvania Avenue to the U.S. Capitol for the Inauguration. Only three outgoing presidents, John Adams in 1801, John Quincy Adams in 1829, and Andrew Johnson in 1869, refused to take that ride to attend their successors' inaugurations. No doubt Donald Trump will become the fourth 152 years later. Trump also has impeachment in common with Johnson, so they would have had a lot to talk about if they’d been sharing a carriage. John Adams, who passed on attending Thomas Jefferson’s inauguration, did speak words that Trump should have heeded: “Facts are stubborn things; and whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passions, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence.” Hmmm. Did he perhaps foresee the fraud-free 2020 election?

Carter remembered that trip to the Hill many years later as, “an uncomfortable ride.” The picture bears it out. Because there was no room for me to squeeze into the limo, I mounted a camera between Speaker of the House Tip O’Neill, and Sen. Howard Cannon of the Inaugural Arrangements Committee. I strung the shutter release cable to the front where the Secret Service agent riding shotgun agreed to take the pictures. Before the motorcade left the North Portico of the White House, I told the substantially-sized Speaker to lean over to his left so he wouldn’t block the shot. He happily obliged. Afterwards the agent told me that he didn’t think the photos would be that good because, “the two of them didn’t say much.” He was wrong about the image. As the old cliché goes, the picture told the story.

Although I would have preferred seeing my boss President Ford being sworn-in, not Jimmy Carter, it was the kind of moment that I live to document. I was witnessing what our country represents. A peaceful and honorable transfer of power. One where everybody pulls together. An American tradition. A Democratic staple of our free society. We’ve been doing it since George Washington turned over the reins of power to John Adams in 1797.

For the first time in our country's history, this year we are not doing it the right way.

Canon

Center for Creative Photography, The University of Arizona: David Hume Kennerly Archive.
© Center for Creative Photography, Arizona Board of Regents

How to Concede

November 22, 2020 By David Hume Kennerly

I’m missing President Gerald R. Ford more than ever.

His graceful and dignified concession of the 1976 election to Jimmy Carter was an exemplar of how to deal with this overwhelmingly painful moment. Gerald R. Ford was not the first or last president to suffer this fate, and he wasn’t alone in doing it right. Only one person in American history has gone to the extreme, and has taken the path of petulance and obstruction. He is an embarrassment to the institution of the presidency and the people of the United States.

On November 2, 1976, President Gerald R. Ford voted in his hometown of Grand Rapids, Michigan. Afterwards he and Mrs. Ford were upbeat, and walked through cheering crowds shaking hands with everyone in sight. Before heading back to Washington, D.C., he and the first lady attended the unveiling of a large mural in the lobby of Kent County Airport that commemorated the life of the 38^th president. It was a deeply emotional event for President Ford. He talked about his parents, and how important they and his family were to him. Everyone, even the press corps, became teary-eyed as they listened to his heartfelt words.

GRAND RAPIDS, MI. - NOVEMBER 2: (NO U.S. TABLOID SALES) Exhausted from the grueling campaign, President Ford talks about his life at the dedication of a mural honoring him and his family at the airport on election day November 2, 1976 in Grand Rapids, Michigan. (Photo by David Hume Kennerly/ Getty Images)

That night the president, along with his running mate Sen. Bob Dole, his family and close friends, gathered in the second floor residence of the White House to watch the returns. It was not a happy evening. It turned out to be one of the closest elections ever to that point. I mainly stayed upstairs with the family, but at one point I dropped in on Chief of Staff Dick Cheney in his office where he was keeping tabs on the tally. He was at his desk surrounded by paperwork and Shlitz beer cans. This wasn’t going to be a champagne occasion.

The election returns crawled into the wee hours of Nov. 3, and when the president finally went to bed at three a.m., he wasn’t 100% certain that he had lost, but the networks had called it for Carter. I went to my office in the West Wing and slept on the couch for a few hours. Around nine a.m. I went back up to the Family Residence to see the president. He was in his bathrobe having breakfast alone and reading a newspaper in the family dining room. “I guess we’ve had it,” I said. “Looks that way,” he whispered, his voice shot from the last two weeks of campaigning. “It was great while it lasted,” I said. “I wouldn’t have traded a minute of it,” he said with a smile.

Governor Jimmy Carter of Georgia won by a small margin. The final count of almost 80 million votes cast was 50.1% for Carter, 48% for Ford. The Electoral College, the tally that ultimately tells the tale, came in at 297 to 240 a few weeks later.

Two hours after his breakfast, the president made the tough call to Jimmy Carter to concede the election. He was in the oval office with Dick Cheney and counselor Jack Marsh. He could barely make himself heard because he’d lost his voice, but he managed to congratulate Carter, then asked Cheney, who was on an extension on the other side of the historic room to read his statement.

“Dear Jimmy:

It is apparent now that you have won our long and intense struggle for the Presidency. I congratulate you on your victory.

As one who has been honored to serve the people of this great land, both in Congress and as President, I believe that we must now put the divisions of the campaign behind us and unite the country once again in the common pursuit of peace and prosperity.

Although there will continue to be disagreements over the best means to use in pursuing our goals, I want to assure you that you will have my complete and wholehearted support as you take the oath of office this January.

I also pledge to you that I, and all members of my Administration, will do all that we can to insure that you begin your term as smoothly and as effectively as possible.

May God bless you and your family as you undertake your new responsibilities.

Signed, Jerry Ford.”

WASHINGTON DC - NOVEMBER 3: (NO U.S. TABLOID SALES) After President Ford conceded the election in a phone call to Jimmy Carter, the Ford
family gathers in the Oval Office, just before the public concession statement was read in the White House press room. Mrs. Ford delivered the remarks because the president had lost his voice during the final days of the campaign November 3, 1976, in Washington, DC. From left are sons Steve and Jack, daughter Susan, daughter in-law Gayle, and son Mike. (Photo by David Hume Kennerly/ Getty Images)

After they hung up, the president said, “Well, that’s that, let’s go see the press.” He was joined by the rest of the family, and it was a subdued group. Mrs. Ford, however, managed to rally the troops, and got them all to pose for a photo behind the president’s desk. She gave son Jack, who was pretty down, a playful little slap on the cheek, and the photo was accomplished.

Because of her husband’s lack of voice, the first lady would read the concession statement in the White House press room. He did manage to tell the assembled press corps, “I do want to express on a personal basis my appreciation, and that of my family, for the friendship that all of us have had. And after Betty reads the statement that was sent to Governor Carter by me, I think all of us, Betty, the children, and myself, would like to just come down and shake hands and express our appreciation personally.”

Mrs. Ford read the same concession statement that Cheney gave to Carter, and as promised, the Fords waded into the gathered members of the press and shook hands. Definitely not an “enemies of the people” moment. Even though Ford, like every other president in history, had been skewered by the press, he never took it personally. Ford once told me, “Their job is to hold us to account, and ours isn’t necessarily to like it, but to understand that’s what Democracy is all about.” Yep, that same pesky old First Amendment that our soon-to-be-ex-president is always complaining about.

President Ford, close personal aide Terry O’Donnell, and I walked back to the oval office after the press appearance. Terry asked the president if there was anything he could get for him. President Ford came out from behind his desk, put his arm around Terry, and told him, “I’ve never really thanked you for the great job you’ve done for me over the last two years. If there’s anything I can do for you after we leave here, just let me know.” Terry took off his glasses and wiped his eyes, and for the first time it really hit me. Here was a guy who had just lost the biggest prize in the world telling a member of his staff that he would do anything he could to help him. I turned and walked out of the room, tears streaming down my face.

Flash forward to the here and now. No concession from the president whose name shall not be mentioned, and who clearly lost. And no humanity. Instead of an arm around the shoulder, many got a kick in the ass out the door. At least getting fired by this president is a great resume item.

That grand guy Gerald R. Ford who ended our, “Our long national nightmare,” August 9^th, 1974, would not have approved, and would have recoiled in disgust at the behavior of the worst person to ever occupy the oval office.

Canon

Center for Creative Photography, The University of Arizona: David Hume Kennerly Archive.
© Center for Creative Photography, Arizona Board of Regents

Canon

Center for Creative Photography, The University of Arizona: David Hume Kennerly Archive.
© Center for Creative Photography, Arizona Board of Regents

My Thirteen Presidential Elections

November 12, 2020 By David Hume Kennerly

This 2020 presidential election campaign is my thirteenth. I’ve covered them all since 1968, except for 1972 when I was in Vietnam photographing the war. (I have the best excuses.) Due to Covid-19, this year I only caught the early action in February, during the New Hampshire Primary. Thankfully it produced some telling images.

Campaigning for president is as American as apple pie, and photography has been a part of that process almost since it was invented. Abraham Lincoln was the first presidential candidate who really understood the power of photography, and said that Matthew Brady’s portrait of him, combined with his Cooper Union speech, made him president. The portrait, reproduced through woodcuts and engravings, was disseminated throughout the country, even though it would be another 20 years before the first photograph was published in 1880.

According to historic material about Lincoln in the Roosevelt House archive, one of his supporters noted, “I am coming to believe that likenesses broad cast, are excellent means of electioneering.” And an opponent complained, “the country is flooded with pictures of Lincoln, in all conceivable shapes and sizes, and cheap.”

Politicians like to stand above everyone else, and Teddy Roosevelt was one of them. A picture of him standing on a table talking to a crowd is a good example of that. He understood spin, and used publicity – often in the form of photographs -- to further his goals. Henry Stoddard, a journalist at the time said, “It’s true that TR liked the centre of the stage—loved in fact, but when he sought it he always had something to say or to do that made the stage the appropriate place for him.” Roosevelt’s legend, built on his championing the plight of the common man and his informal style, were re-enforced by photos of him at center stage.

This photo of Abraham Lincoln was made by Matthew Brady in his New York City studio on February 26, 1860. Lincoln later told Brady that this photo and his Cooper Union speech made him president. Lincoln was the first major political leader to understand the power of photography, and this image, reproduced as etchings on posters and in papers, was how people knew who he was. It was early branding.

President Teddy Roosevelt was a turn-of-the-century politician who understood the power of the photographic image.

President Gerald R. Ford, another politician who liked to be above it all, atop the presidential limo campaigns during the 1976 election.

1968 By the time I came along, photography and campaigning for president went hand in hand. My first real presidential election-year photos were taken that year of Robert F. Kennedy as he ran for president. I was a 21-year-old wire service photographer assigned by UPI to cover him on a campaign trip through New Mexico and Arizona, and then in Los Angeles. My pictures of him in the predominately Black neighborhood of Watts in L.A. were very revealing about the kind of man that he was. Watts was the scene of major and lethal rioting in 1965, much of the area had been burned down, and 34 people were killed. That did not stop Kennedy from campaigning there, something that I thought was pretty brave for a white politician.

I was on the scene that horrible night at the Ambassador Hotel when he was gunned down. My last photo of him alive was when he raised his hand and made the “V” sign. Moments later, after he left the stage, he was shot. Two of my friends, Ron Bennett of UPI, and Bill Eppridge of LIFE documented the aftermath and made some incredibly dramatic photos. Those now historic pictures tell the story better than any words could.

Sen. Robert Kennedy appearing at the Cocoanut Grove Nightclub in the Ambassador Hotel two nights before he was shot there on June 6, 1968 after he won the California Primary.

Although I photographed Lyndon Johnson once after he left office, the first President I covered extensively was Richard Nixon. My first photos of him were right after he won the Republican nomination in Miami in 1968. He came out to California and was in Mission Bay in San Diego to plot campaign strategy. One of my photos caught a light moment between him and his running mate Spiro Agnew who would later resign as vice president. Nixon would go on to beat Vice President Hubert Humphrey and third party candidate George Wallace that year. It was fairly close in the Electoral College with 301 to Nixon, 191 for Humphrey, and 49 for Wallace.

1972 In Vietnam I followed the news from afar as Richard Nixon won re-election, beating Sen. George McGovern by 18 million votes, winning 49 states, (Massachusetts went for McGovern), and capturing 520 to 17 electoral votes. Apparently, I didn’t miss much drama.

Republican presidential candidate Richard Nixon and his running-mate, Gov. Spiro Agnew in Mission Bay, California, where they met after the GOP Convention to discuss campaign strategy, August 12, 1968.

1976 The real excitement began when I got back from Southeast Asia. I was there to see President Nixon wave goodbye on the South Lawn of the White House after he resigned on August 9, 1974, and the next day I became President Gerald Ford’s chief White House photographer. In that position I got the opportunity to see a White House and an election from the inside. Ford campaigned heavily against Georgia Governor Jimmy Carter in the last two weeks before the election, had two debates with him, and came very close to beating him. But Ford’s pardon of Nixon a month into his presidency had tanked him in the polls, putting him way behind at the outset of the election, and he just never caught up. The final tally was 297-240 in the Electoral College, and in the no consolation category, Ford won the majority of states 27-23. I personally felt bad about Ford’s loss because I thought he deserved it, and would have done a great job with a full four year term.

Democratic presidential nominee Jimmy Carter and wife Rosalynn walk away from the President and Mrs. Ford after their third and final debate at William & Mary College, Williamsburg, Virginia, Oct. 22, 1976. FordÕs running mate Sen. Bob Dole talks to Susan Ford behind them. Carter won the election eleven days later.

1980 This election pitted President Jimmy Carter against former California Governor Ronald Reagan. The popular Reagan had come close to beating President Ford in the 1976 primaries, but was edged out in a squeaker at the Republican Convention. I was back working for TIME Magazine, and they assigned me to photograph the Quixote-like independent campaign of John Anderson. In June he was polling at 25%, his high point, and he ended up only getting 6.6% of the final vote. Reagan beat the incumbent president in a landslide 472-59 in the Electoral College, and by 17% overall. It was the worst loss for an incumbent president since FDR shellacked Hoover in 1932.

President Jimmy Carter at the 1980 Democratic Convention as Sen. Edward Kennedy waves to the crowd after CarterÕs nomination speech. Kennedy unsuccessfully ran against Carter for the nomination. Carter was defeated by Ronald Reagan in his reelection attempt. New York City, August 14, 1980.

Independent Presidential candidate John Anderson on the campaign trail, Miami, Florida, October 1980. Anderson won about seven percent of the votes in an election where Gov. Ronald Reagan beat President Jimmy Carter.

1984 President Reagan beat former VP Walter Mondale in another landslide, winning 525 of the 538 electoral votes, the most of any presidential candidate in history. Mondale only carried his home state of Minnesota. I was at the Century Plaza Hotel in Los Angeles when the crowd chanted “Four more years!” Reagan smiled and said, “I think that’s just been arranged.”

President Ronald Reagan with lipstick on his cheek during a 1984 campaign appearance.

1988 An election year where a photo a photo of a candidate doing something made the difference. Sorry I wasn’t there to take it! The picture showed Democratic nominee Mike Dukakis riding in an M1 Abrams tank wearing a helmet and waving. Not a good look. Vice President George Bush’s campaign made ads of it that mocked Dukakis. A picture that didn’t cause a problem for VP Bush was President Reagan campaigning for him in California at a rally that featured him holding up the arm, (leg?), of the famous San Diego Chicken. It must have helped. Bush won the Electoral College vote 426-111, carried 40 states, and racked up seven million more votes than his opponent.

President George H.W. Bush addresses his supporters during his campaign whistle stop tour on October 20, 1992 in Norcross, Georgia.

President Ronald Reagan campaigns for his Vice President George Bush at a rally that featured the San Diego Chicken, San Diego, California, November 7, 1988.

First Lady Nancy Reagan and President Ronald Reagan congratulate President-elect George Bush in the Rose Garden at the White House after Bush won the 1988 presidential election, November, 9, 1988, Washington, D.C.

President George Bush delivers his concession speech on election night November 3, 1992 in Houston, Texas. The President addressed his supporters after election returns indicated that Arkansas Governor Bill Clinton had won the race.

1992 President George Bush lost to the former governor of Arkansas Bill Clinton, and to make it worse, Clinton was young enough to be his son. I was with him on the final days of the campaign, and in Houston at the Westin Galleria when he conceded. It was a grim moment for the old warrior. President Bush's 37.5% was the lowest percentage total for a sitting president seeking re-election since William Howard Taft in 1912 who only got 23%. Clinton took the Electoral College 370-168.

1996 I got off on the wrong foot with Sen. Bob Dole who was running against the incumbent President Bill Clinton. I was shooting the campaign for Newsweek, and my first cover for them was a stark black and white portrait of Dole with the headline, “Doubts About Dole.” My name was also prominently displayed next to the photo, so there was no way he didn’t know who took it!

After it hit the newsstands I saw Dole for the first time in the lobby of the Holiday Inn in Manchester, New Hampshire. I was standing next to former U.N. Ambassador Jeane Kirkpatrick. Dole saw me, and made a beeline over. He didn’t look happy, and sarcastically said, “Really glad we let you spend all that time with us.” I said that I’d taken a lot of good pictures during that couple of weeks. He said, “That photo on the front of Newsweek made me look like I was dug up from the grave.” He then turned and abruptly left. Ambassador Kirkpatrick smiled sweetly and said, “well, it looks like you made a real friend there.”

Newsweek cover of Republican candidate Bob Dole. This image led Dole to tell Kennerly, ÒThat cover photo made me look like I was dug up from the grave.Ó

The next time I saw Senator Dole he was sitting between Texas Gov. George W. Bush and former President George Bush in Houston. During the photo op Dole pointed at me, and said “Do you know Dave Kennerly?” They did. “He took that awful picture of me on the cover of Newsweek. It cost me five points in the polls.” Guess I hadn’t gotten back in his good graces. It’s worth pointing out that the words accompanying a photo could influence people’s judgment of the person. If the headline had been something like, “Bob Dole’s Presidential Quest,” instead of “Doubts About Dole,” he and others might well have viewed it differently. My job, however, isn’t to please or skewer. Dole went on to lose by almost nine points in the popular vote to Clinton, and Independent candidate Ross Perot picked up a little over 8%. Clinton got 379 Electoral votes to Dole’s 159. Perot zero.

President Bill Clinton and contender Sen. Bob Dole have at it during their 2nd debate at the University of San Diego, San Diego, California, October 16, 1996.

2000 Newsweek gave me my choice of candidates to cover, either Gov. George W. Bush or Sen. John McCain for the turn of the millennium election. Figuring that Bush’s campaign would be restrictive to the press, and very conventional, I chose to follow the political maverick McCain, an ornery and colorful Vietnam War hero. (Note to Donald Trump: He was a hero not for being shot down and captured, but for rejecting the North Vietnamese’s offer for an early release ahead of others who had been POW’s longer. McCain was the first to tell you that getting blown out of the sky and being taken prisoner was by no means heroic.)

My travels with McCain were a photographer’s dream. Total access to him and his advisors, a permanent seat on his campaign bus, The Straight Talk Express, and a really interesting and honorable guy to photograph on top of it. I calculated that the odds were against McCain winning the Republican nomination for president, but if he was victorious it would be a political earthquake that would shake up the establishment. He almost pulled it off, and whupped Bush in the New Hampshire Primary by 18 points. The victory was short lived, Bush & Co. napalmed McCain in South Carolina, and derailed his momentum. McCain withdrew from the race on March 9 against the backdrop of Sedona, Arizona.

For a few weeks after McCain’s departure I covered the Democratic nominee Vice President Al Gore, and for the last couple of weeks of the campaign switched over to Bush’s running mate Dick Cheney. That move put me in the room at the governor’s mansion in Austin with his inner circle election night.

Gore had conceded to Bush before I arrived at his residence, and everyone was celebrating. Then came the shocker: Gore withdrew his concession in a private call to Bush. I heard about it firsthand before anyone else. I was in the kitchen getting a drink of water when Bush came down the back stairway from the family quarters. He had just talked to Gore and appeared shell shocked. Bush looked at me and said, “He took it back. He took it back.” I said, “Who took what back?” He said, “Gore. He took back his concession.” All I could think to say was, “Well that sucks.” He agreed. Gore took it back because Florida, the state that could put either of them over the top in the Electoral College became too close to call. That’s how the night ended.

It’s worth noting that Gov. Bush’s brother Jeb, the governor of Florida, was also in the room, making for even more drama. Ultimately the Supreme Court gave it to Bush a month later. If John McCain had been the candidate there wouldn’t have been a tie, in my estimation he would have picked up plenty of Democrat votes, and he would have beaten Gore straight up.

Republican presidential candidate George W. Bush watches the television right after his opponent Vice President Al Gore took back his concession in the wee hours of the next day after the election, Austin, Texas, November 7, 2000. The U.S. Supreme Court ultimately ruled that Bush won.

2004 If life had do-overs, Democratic presidential nominee John Kerry probably wouldn’t have gone windsurfing off Nantucket for the photographers. I was out on the boat when he did it, courtesy of his campaign, and was impressed with his athletic ability. At the time I wondered if it was a good idea for him, but hey, it was their call. It turned into a Dukakis-like moment. The GOP made ads featuring Kerry windsurfing and tacking back and forth in a ballet-like scene set to the Strauss waltz, “By the Beautiful Blue Danube.” The ad claimed that his positions shift, “whichever way the wind blows.” I thought it was pretty clever, but the Kerry folks, of course, branded it “tasteless.” They left out very funny. It was a close election, but Bush won 286-251 in the Electoral College, and 50.7% of the popular votes.

Democratic Vice Presidential Candidate Sen. John Edwards and his running mate, Presidential candidate Sen. John Kerry at their first rally together after Edwards joined the ticket, Cleveland, OH , July 7 2004.

Democratic Presidential Candidate John Kerry kite sails July 20, 2004 in the water off of Nantucket, MA. This event was used against him in Bush campaign ads.

2008 John McCain was back in the saddle, and this time he got the Republican nomination. His opponent was fellow Senator Barack Obama. I spent a few days with him as he campaigned in New Hampshire. In a superstitious moment on that second New Hampshire Primary election night, McCain gathered all the same people who were there in the room eight years earlier when he kicked Bush’s ass. I was one of them. His victory in the Granite State was a moment that closely replicated his earlier triumph, even though he only edged out his competitor Mitt Romney by five points to win. In the general campaign McCain showed that he was more patriot than politician. During a town hall in Minnesota a woman said, “She couldn’t trust Obama. I have read about him . . . he’s an Arab.” McCain gently took the microphone from her, and shook his head. She said, “No?” McCain decisively told her, “No ma’am. He’s a decent family man, citizen, that I just happen to have disagreements with on fundamental issues.” He then looked up to the crowd and told them. “That’s what this campaign is all about.” Obama impressively won the election 365 to 173 in the Electoral College, and took almost 53% of the popular vote, becoming the first African-American president of the United States.

John McCain might have lost, but he left the stage with his honor firmly intact.

On election day in New Hampshire, Republican Presidential contender Senator John McCain shows reporters the editorial page of the Manchester Union Leader which features a cartoon of him. His wife Cindy McCain sits beside him on their campaign bus, "The Straight Talk Express," Nashua, New Hampshire, January 8, 2008.

2012 I was with Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney on his campaign bus in Virginia the day that he announced Rep. Paul Ryan as his running mate. Romney was in a pensive mood, and I took a good photo of him alone thinking about the upcoming campaign. I had looked up his birthday, and discovered that we were born three days apart, mine was March 9, 1947, his March 12. I told him this, but I said there was one big difference between us. “What’s that?” he said. “You’re a tribute to clean living, and I’m not,” I jokingly told him. He thought that was funny. I also discovered we liked a lot of the same kind of music, and the Kingston Trio was right at the top of both of our lists. That fact will not stir any excitement among my three sons! Romney did a bit better than McCain, but not much. The Electoral College tally was 332-206, and President Obama got 51% of the popular vote.

Republican Presidential candidate Mitt Romney in a pensive moment aboard his campaign bus in Ashland, Virginia, August 11, 2012.

President and Mrs. Barack Obama at an Inaugural Ball celebrating his 2nd reelection as president at the Washington Convention Center, Washington, D.C. January 21, 2013.

2016 This was the election that was supposed to see the first woman in America’s history elected president. I was asked by CNN to cover the campaign for them. I photographed the Republican Convention in Cleveland where Donald Trump was nominated, then drove to Philadelphia for the Democratic gathering. I decided to take some of the back roads through Pennsylvania and was shocked by how many pro Trump displays there were in formerly Democratic areas. There were Hillary Clinton posters out there also, but most of them said, “Lock Her Up!” Not an auspicious sign for HRC’s campaign.

Later in the fall I spent five days on the Clinton campaign. When I talked to her briefly at St. Anslem College in New Hampshire, she told me, “I wish the election was tomorrow.” She would have won if that had been the case, but unfortunately for her there was an October surprise four days later when FBI Director James Comey reopening an investigation into her emails. The election was eleven days away, and disaster loomed.

The last ten days of the campaign I spent covering Donald Trump, and it was clear he had a lot of support. People would wait in line for hours to get into his rallies. In the last ten days of the campaigned Trump blitzed twelve states with stops in Arizona, Florida, New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, Colorado, Nevada, North Carolina, Virginia, Michigan, Iowa, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. The campaign ended in New York City for both campaigns, the Clintons at the huge Javits Convention Center, and Trump’s in the much smaller Hilton Hotel ballroom.

Trump appeared with his family after being declared the winner. It was unlike any victory celebration I have ever witnessed. The president-elect barely broke a smile, and if you had been watching television with the sound off, you would have thought he was the one who lost. He hadn’t. Just down the street at the Javits Center, Hillary Clinton didn’t make an appearance. Her political career was finished.

A happy Hillary Clinton after accepting the Democratic Party nomination for president of the United States on the final night of the Democratic National Convention, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, July 28, 2016. She lost the general election to real estate mogul Donald Trump.

NEW YORK-- NOV 9: President-elect Donald J. Trump speaks to supporters in the grand ballroom in the Hilton Hotel after winning the election, November 9, 2016. (Photo by David Hume Kennerly/GettyImages)

2020 This election year has become the Covid-19 campaign. I was supposed to cover this one for CNN also, but everything changed after the coronavirus hit. Before everything got turned upside-down, I was able to photograph the New Hampshire Primary, my favorite political event of every four-year campaign cycle.

I attended a Trump rally in Manchester that was a carbon copy of the 2016 campaign, and still featured Trump haranguing the press. This time he added “fake news” to the dialogue not elevating his rhetoric in four years. The best photo was a “Daddy Dearest” moment of him kissing Ivanka in front of the crowd. The teleprompter bisects the two, but you get the point.

President Donald Trump kisses his daughter Ivanka during a rally in Manchester, New Hampshire, February 10, 2020.

I was most impressed by my stop at a Joe Biden town hall meeting in Hampton Beach. It was a small gathering, maybe a couple hundred people, but it gave me a chance to observe the former vice president at his best. There was a particularly poignant moment when he talked about his son Beau who had died of brain cancer five years earlier.

The beauty of photography is that allows you, when the circumstances are right, to see behind the façade of someone, and to capture who they really are. This was one of those instants. The pain was there, the deep feelings were evident, and it wasn’t an act. There was one other powerful moment when Biden mingled with the crowd that struck me. A woman sought him out to share her grief about the loss of a loved one. He listened, empathized, and comforted her. You feel the emotion in the photograph.

Democratic presidential candidate former Vice President Joe Biden has some comforting words for a woman who suffered a recent loss as he campaigned in Hampton, New Hampshire, February 9, 2020. Biden went on to win the Democratic nomination.

Joe Biden will be the next President of the United States. Among his additional duties, and a role that has been AWOL for the last four years, will be an additional responsibility: Consoler-in-Chief. The country needs, and will get that.

The Day Hillary Clinton Lost the Election

October 31, 2020 By David Hume Kennerly

I’d been covering the 2016 presidential campaign for CNN since the year before, but when I showed up to photograph an appearance by Hillary Clinton at St. Anselm College in New Hampshire, I hadn’t seen her in a couple of months.

The first time I photographed her was when she was a young lawyer working on the Nixon impeachment hearings in the House Judiciary Committee in 1974. I’d gotten to know her pretty well since then, even made a trip with her in 1998 where she visited Russia and several other countries in the area. So when Sec. Clinton saw me at the St. Anselm rally she came over to say a cheery hello. I asked how she was doing, and she leaned over and said, “I wish the election was tomorrow.” Had it been the next day she would have won, but two weeks and a day later, on Nov. 8, Donald Trump was elected president.

Hillary Clinton, St. Anselm College, Manchester, New Hampshire, Oct. 24, 2016

A young Hillary fan, Cedar Rapids, Iowa, Oct. 28, 2016

What Mrs. Clinton and nobody else knew at that moment was that in reality she would lose the election four days later on October 28 when Director of the FBI James Comey reopened the investigation into her emails. It was a shocking and unpleasant twist, particularly being so close to a presidential election. Clinton’s use of a private email server during her time as Secretary of State had been a campaign issue, but earlier in July the FBI decided not to recommend criminal charges against her, so as far as the campaign was concerned it was case closed. Until suddenly it wasn’t.

On that day I was in the back of Sec. Clinton’s campaign plane traveling from New York to Cedar Rapids, Iowa with her. During the flight word reached us about the new investigation. Mrs. Clinton had no advance warning that the FBI would be doing that. Comey had informed Congress, but not her.

Clinton's top campaign staffers, including her close aide Huma Abedin, had to immediately figure out what to do about the earthshaking revelation. At that point it was only eleven days until the election. They learned later that the emails in question were part of an investigation into Abedin's estranged husband, former Congressman Anthony Weiner.

Hillary Clinton and Huma Abedin on the campaign plane in Iowa, Oct. 28, 2016

Kennerly photographing Hillary deplaning in Cedar Rapids after FBI shocker

After landing in Iowa, we waited for almost 45 minutes for Sec. Clinton to exit her plane. It was clear there was an emergency meeting going on about how to deal with this unexpected crisis. The press shouted questions at her when she finally deplaned, but she ducked into her car without saying a word, and headed to her scheduled rally. I was with a pensive Hillary Clinton backstage as she waited to enter the event. Nobody was talking about the FBI.

Clinton waits backstage in Cedar Rapids before her rally after hearing about the FBI reopening her email investigation, Oct. 28, 2016

One poignant and ironic photo I made at her second campaign event in Des Moines was a shot of her striding down the catwalk with a large “Madam Potus” sign in the crowd. The rally wasn’t the story, although like the first one she got through it as if everything was ok. The press conference afterwards was where the news was made. The hastily put together presser was held in the school’s choir room. Clinton appeared grim but resolute. She said, “We don't know what to believe. And I'm sure there will be even more rumors . . . it is incumbent upon the FBI to tell us what they're talking about . . . We are 11 days out from perhaps the most important national election in our lifetimes. Voting is already underway in our country . . . so the American people deserve to get the full and complete facts immediately. [Comey] himself has said he doesn’t know whether emails referenced in his letter are significant or not. I’m confident, whatever they are, will not change the conclusion reached in July.”

Clinton at press conference in Des Moines addressing FBI email investigation. She said, "the American people deserve to get the full and complete facts immediately."

For election night Hillary Clinton's campaign had reserved the huge Javits Convention Center for what they thought would be a monumental celebration of the first woman in American history to become president. A few blocks away, in the smaller New York Hilton ballroom that had been contracted by a campaign who thought they would lose, I was there to document a stunned-looking Donald Trump as he declared victory. But he had really won eleven days earlier.

President-elect Donald J. Trump, wife Melania, daughter Ivanka, and son-in-law Jared Kushner, in the Hilton Ballroom after winning the election, New York City, Nov. 9, 2016

John McCain (1936-2018): A Remembrance

October 14, 2020 By David Hume Kennerly

Two years ago today, September 2, 2018, Senator John McCain was buried on the grounds of his beloved U.S. Naval Academy. John’s family asked me to document his last journey from Arizona, to Washington, D.C., and to his final resting place in Annapolis. It was an honor for me to do so.

There were many things to like about John McCain, but the ride with him wasn’t always smooth. Those of us who knew him were keenly aware that he wasn’t perfect. John could be abrupt, cantankerous, stubborn, temperamental, and opinionated. But pitted against the better angels of his character, those were only minor defects!

I first photographed McCain when he became a Congressman in 1983, but didn’t get to know him until his second term as a U.S. Senator from Arizona. In 1997 I took a photo of him and Sen. John Kerry just off the Senate floor that remains one of my favorite images. It shows two Vietnam vets, a Democrat and a Republican, locked in a true bi-partisan moment. Both would later run unsuccessfully for president, but first and foremost, they remained friends.

One of the many things I liked about McCain was his ease with the press, and their access to him. You could always pop into his Senate office through a side door to say hello. On one occasion I showed up as McCain was yelling at someone on the phone. He didn’t miss a beat, waved me in, and just kept up his diatribe. I of course made a few shots.

WASHINGTON - 1997: (NO US TABLOID SALES) Senator John Kerry chats with Senator John McCain 1997 in Washington DC. (Photo by David Hume Kennerly/Getty Images)

WASHINGTON, DC - JULY 19: (NO U.S. TABLOID SALES) Senator John McCain on the phone in his office in Washington, DC July 10, 2001. (Photo by David Hume Kennerly/ Getty Images)

In 2000 I was under contract for Newsweek. I told Managing Editor Jon Meacham that I would like to cover McCain’s Quixotesque run for the Republican nomination against Gov. George W. Bush. I knew that Bush’s well-funded juggernaut would probably prevail, but McCain’s Wild West-like adventure would be a lot more fun to photograph. I of course thought that there was an outside chance that McCain could win, and that would put me right in the center of one helluva political story.

I was permanent party on the Straight Talk Express, McCain’s campaign bus. He crisscrossed New Hampshire, and when not giving speeches, sat in the back of the bus talking non-stop with the reporters who were covering him. It was refreshing, and a real look at Democracy in action. And then a miracle happened. McCain thrashed Bush in the New Hampshire primary, running up the widest margin in that state since Ronald Reagan defeated Bush's father 20 years earlier. Wow! I was in the room when it happened, and photographed the McCain family’s display of utter shock at the results. But the overwhelming Bush forces were then marshalled against McCain in South Carolina where they fought dirty, and in the parlance of Vietnam, napalmed McCain, and retook the momentum. The McCain campaign never recovered, and he bowed out of the race on March 9, 2000. The black and white photo that I took of him with wife Cindy standing by his side above Sedona, puffy clouds in the background as he conceded, appeared to be an, “if Ansel Adams-photographed-politics-like moment.” Election night 2000 basically ended in a tie, and even though George W. Bush ultimately prevailed, I think McCain would have defeated Vice President Al Gore straight up by ten points. We’ll never know.

19990701_McCain_Bedford_NewHampshire_3234-14a

McCain continued his work in the Senate, and as always was up-front and transparent. My son Byron Kennerly was an intern in his press office during the summer of 2003, and recalled an instance where McCain had accidentally sideswiped fellow Vietnam vet Sen. Chuck Hagel’s car. The press staff debated whether or not they should try to keep it quiet, but McCain said hell no, put it out there, I don’t care if it makes me look bad. They did, McCain looked fine, but remained a bad driver.

The presidential dream didn’t end for McCain after he lost to Bush. in 2008 he ran in the general election as the Republican nominee for president against fellow Senator Barack Obama and lost. McCain was bloodied, but as usual, unbowed. He returned to the senate. On July 19 of 2017, it was announced that Senator McCain was diagnosed with an aggressive form of brain cancer. Eight days later he dramatically cast the deciding vote in the senate that prevented Obama’s Affordable Care Act from being overturned. A little more than a year later, on August 25, 2018, he lost the cancer battle, and died. His story, of course, doesn’t end there. In his final days, among the many things that he attended to, he decided who would eulogize him.

Who else but John McCain would invite the two men who beat him out for the biggest job on the planet to say a few words about him at his funeral? And who else but John McCain would make sure that the man sitting in the oval office at the time would not be attending his farewell?

Cindy and John after he withdrew in 2000

Former President Barack Obama, in his eulogy at the National Cathedral, captured John’s wry and dry wit. He said, “So for someone like John to ask you, while he’s still alive, to stand and speak of him when he’s gone, is a precious and singular honor. Now, when John called me with that request earlier this year, I’ll admit sadness and also a certain surprise . . . To start with, John liked being unpredictable, even a little contrarian. He had no interest in conforming to some prepackaged version of what a senator should be, and he didn’t want a memorial that was going to be prepackaged either. It also showed John’s disdain for self-pity. He had been to hell and back, and he had somehow never lost his energy, or his optimism, or his zest for life. So cancer did not scare him, and he would maintain that buoyant spirit to very end, too stubborn to sit still, opinionated as ever, fiercely devoted to his friends and most of all, to his family. It showed his irreverence – his sense of humor, and a little bit of a mischievous streak. After all, what better way to get a last laugh than to make George and I say nice things about him to a national audience?”

WASHINGTON-- SEPT 1: Funeral services for Sen. John McCain featuring Meghan McCain and former presidents Barack Obama and George W. Bush as speakers, Washington, D.C., September 1, 2018. (Photos by David Hume Kennerly/McCainFamily)

Another of his political opponents whom he invited to talk was former President George W. Bush, who defeated McCain for the Republican nomination for president in 2000. Bush said, “Perhaps above all, John detested the abuse of power. He could not abide bigots and swaggering despots. There was something deep inside him that made him stand up for the little guy – to speak for forgotten people in forgotten places . . .” A friend said, “He can’t stand to stay in the same experience.” One of his books ended with the words: “And I moved on.” John has moved on. He would probably not want us to dwell on it. But we are better for his presence among us. The world is smaller for his departure. And we will remember him as he was: unwavering, undimmed, unequaled.”

The disinvited one, President Donald J. Trump, had this to say about the event. “I gave him the kind of funeral that he wanted, which as president I had to approve,” Trump told a crowd at in Ohio. “I don’t care about this. I didn’t get a thank you, that’s OK. We sent him on the way. But I wasn’t a fan of John McCain." That prompted this memo from the Cathedral spokesperson: “Washington National Cathedral was honored to host the funeral service for Sen. John McCain. All funerals and memorial services at the Cathedral are organized by the family of the deceased; only a state funeral for a former president involves consultation with government officials. No funeral at the Cathedral requires the approval of the president or any other government official.” Take that Donnie.

PHOENIX -- AUG 30: The remains of Senator John McCain accompanied by his wife Cindy and family are in church and motorcade to airportPhoenix, Arizona(Photos by David Hume Kennerly/McCainFamily)

Former Vice President Joe Biden, a dear friend of John McCain, said this at services in Phoenix.

“My name is Joe Biden. I’m a Democrat. And I loved John McCain . . . But the way I look at it, the way I thought about it, was that I always thought of John as a brother. We had a hell of a lot of family fights! Now John is going to take his rightful place in a long line of extraordinary leaders in this nation's history. Who in their time and in their way stood for freedom and stood for liberty and have made the American story the most improbable and most hopeful and most enduring story on earth. I know John said he hoped he played a small part in that story. John, you did much more than that, my friend. To paraphrase Shakespeare, we shall not see his like again."

The end was personal, painful, and a most dignified and perfect sendoff. His casket was carried from the Naval Academy Chapel past rows of Midshipmen who willingly gave up their holidays to be there. At the gravesite, in the final moments before his casket was lowered into the ground, his wife Cindy bid him an emotional adieu. A great love was captured here, and as difficult as it was, I took the photo to memorialize that. The photo would have remained private, but Mrs. McCain later approved its use, which I thought was another brave act on her part. They were one together.

ANNAPOLIS -- SEPT 2: Sen. John McCain's casket, followed by his family, leaves the chapel at the U.S. Naval Academy, Annapolis, Maryland, September 2, 20018, (Photos by David Hume Kennerly/McCainFamily)

Secretary of Defense and former Marine General James Mattis privately addressed McCain’s immediate family after the burial in Annapolis. He quoted Major General Henry Lee’s eulogy for George Washington, “First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen.” He said there were very few people who you could say this about, but John was one of them.

So John McCain joins my list of the most unforgettable people I have known and photographed. I suppose we should just let him rest in peace now, but you know what? That isn’t the way he would have wanted it! I’m pretty sure that McCain is still raising hell, even though he’s in heaven. Cheers to you, JSM, you were the best of the best.

WASHINGTON -- FEB 3: Presidential candidate Senator John McCain boards his plane at Dulles Airport, Washington, DC, February 3, 2008, as he heads off for another day of campaining before Super Tuesday. (David Hume Kennerly/GettyImages)

Canon

Center for Creative Photography, The University of Arizona: David Hume Kennerly Archive.
© Center for Creative Photography, Arizona Board of Regents

16 Frames

September 2, 2020 By David Hume Kennerly

WASHINGTON - AUGUST 9: President Richard Nixon waves goodbye as he boards a helicopter to leave from the South Lawn of the White House after resigning the presidency, August 9, 1974, in Washington, DC. In the first and last frames of this contact sheet Vice President Gerald R. Ford and Mrs. Ford say good bye. Ford was sworn in as president minutes later. (Photo by David Hume Kennerly)

16 Frames

My job is to be there when history is made. August 9, 1974 was one of the biggest days, an historic twofer -- one president quit, and another was sworn in to replace him.

I was on the South Lawn of the White House crowded onto a photo stand with the rest of the press corps when President Richard Nixon, accompanied by his wife Patricia, and Vice President and Mrs. Gerald R. Ford, walked out of the White House to the white-topped presidential helicopter that would carry him away into political exile.

The night before that fateful Friday, President Nixon went on television to announce that he was going to resign over the events of Watergate. Had he not decided to leave voluntarily he would have been impeached in the House and then convicted and removed from office by the Senate for his transgressions. He was the first and only president to resign. Even though we are now 46 years past that event, I still feel the shock from the moment. When I think about it, the event plays before me in slow motion.

There are sixteen frames that I made of Nixon climbing up the six steps of Army One until he ducked inside. At the time I thought the best image of that sequence was the second one, frame 12, where he gave a snappy wave, arm at a 45-degree angle over his head, and lips pursed. It definitely was dramatic, serious, and carried the weight of the moment.

History is a process of steeping. Sometimes the true flavor of a moment doesn’t emerge quickly. In this case it took more than 45 years. I recently came to the conclusion that the frame before the wave, No. 11, carries the most impact. Nixon’s look, captured in 1/500^th of a second, as he glanced up at the South Portico of the White House for the last time, caught his flash of bitter realization. The game was over, he had lost, and would never see the place again as President of the United States. I can’t imagine the pain he must have been feeling at the moment, and even though it appears he’s trying to mask the feeling, it is palpable.

Nixon Bids Farewell Proofsheet August 9, 1974. Washington DC. -- President Richard Nixon on the steps of the presidential helicopter giving his final wave to the White House.

In the remainder of those 16 frames, what happened after that ricochet reflection was the hard tack back to reality. The grim wave expanded into a double “V” campaign-like moment that attempted to reclaim the glory days. His upbeat gesture was spurred by the White House staff who gathered on the South Lawn to see their disgraced leader off. They cheered him. But it wasn’t a campaign rally, rather it was one of the darker days in presidential history.

In less than 12 seconds from start to finish it was over. Sixteen frames, numbers 11 to 26, duly recorded for posterity. Frame 26 shows him ducking to enter the helicopter.

The next two photos, frames 27 and 28 show Vice President Gerald R. Ford, the man who would shortly become president, and Mrs. Ford, give Nixon one last wave goodbye through the window. They then turn and solemnly walk away.

Later that evening the new president would offer me the position as his chief White House photographer. Because my job is about history, and documenting those who make it, I took him up on it!

Uncropped: The Story Behind “The Hug” Photo

August 7, 2020 By David Hume Kennerly

This is the first time I've unveiled my uncropped "The Hug" photo from the dedication of the National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC) in 2016. This version honors the late Rep. John Lewis who died July 17th. Along with First Lady Michelle Obama and former President George W. Bush, former First Lady Laura Bush and President Barack Obama are also in the picture.

I took this photo while on assignment for Bank of America, a major corporate sponsor of the Museum, I immediately knew that the hug was a great moment. A fraction of a second before or after, or standing a foot in either direction would have produced a lesser image. Another key element was Bush having his eyes closed for that magic instant, and helped to make it stand out. The picture went viral as soon as I posted it online, and has become a much-memed image, further attesting to its popularity!

But there was more to the photo than the version that I put out at the time. Way more.

Cropping is part of my world. You take a little off here, a little off there, the idea is to cut away everything that doesn’t focus on the heart of the story without changing its context. In the case of this photograph I zeroed in on the emotional core of the image, one that showed two people whose mutual affection was both symbolic and heartfelt. There was a black woman hugging a white man. A Democrat hugging a Republican. The kind of moment we would like to see naturally occurring every day, particularly these days.

WASHINGTON -- SEPT 24: The opening of the National Museum of African American History and Culture. President and Mrs. Barack Obama, Former President and Mrs. George W. Bush, Bank of America Chairman and CEO Brian Moynihan, NMAAHC Director Lonnie Bunch, and others, September 24, 2016, Washington, D.C. (Photos by David Hume Kennerly)

The reason for the embrace was clear to me. Mrs. Obama was expressing gratitude for the role President Bush played in the formation of the African American museum. In 2003 he signed legislation creating the NMAAHC as part of the Smithsonian Institution, ensuring its home on the National Mall. Rep. Lewis was a key sponsor of the bill, and had been pushing for it since 1988, early in his 30-year Congressional career. Mr. Lewis stood right behind President Bush in the oval office when he made it law. The Congressman said afterward, “Today in America we've moved closer, much closer, to a truly interracial democracy, closer to what Martin Luther King Jr. called the beloved community.''

This image made at the dedication is the non-political and bi-partisan manifestation of those words. But when you clip and trim a photograph, you also excise information. Usually it’s not relevant, but in some cases, like in this instance, what ended up on the cutting room floor was loaded with significant data. The President of the United States, a former first lady, and a great Congressman disappeared from the photo. I can only say that if I had to do it over again, I would have done it the same way, but now the picture is complete.

Knowing John Lewis as I did, he would have forgiven me for cropping him out. The important thing for him was that the museum came into being, and that it was a vital and necessary achievement. He wasn’t one to take credit, but he deserves much of it. Lewis was a monumental figure in his own right. Mr. Lewis will be dearly missed by all of us who care about integrity, strength, perseverance, and character in our public figures.

What John Lewis said at the opening of the NMAAHC was deeply moving to me. Here are his words:

“As long as there is a United States of America, now there will be a National Museum of African American History and Culture. This was a great achievement. I tell you,

I feel like singing the song, the Mahalia Jackson song, from the March on Washington over 50 years ago: ‘How we got over; how we got over.’ There were some who said it couldn’t happen, who said, ‘you can’t do it.’ But we did it. We did it. We are gathered here today to dedicate a building, but this place is more than a building. It is a dream come true.

You and I. Each and every one of us were caught up in a seed of light. We were a vision born in the minds of black Civil War veterans and their supporters. They met right here in Washington, D.C., in 1916., exactly 100 years ago at the Nineteenth Street Baptist Church, still in existence today. Oh say, oh say: See what a dream can do. Roll up the sleeves of those veterans or touch the rubble on their backs — you might find the wounds of shackles and whips. Most could not read the Declaration of Independence or write their own names. But in their hearts — burning, enduring vision of true democracy that no threat or death could ever erase.

They understood the meaning of their contribution. They set a possibility in motion, passing down through the ages from heart to heart and breath to breath. That we are giving birth today to this museum is a testament to the dignity of the dispossessed in every corner of the globe who yearn for freedom. It is a song to the scholars and scribes; scientists and teachers; to the revolutionaries, and the voices of protest; to the ministers in the office of peace. It is a story of life, the story of our lives, wrapped up in a beautiful golden crown of grace.

I can hear the distant voice of ancestors whispering by the night fire: ‘Steal away, steal away home, ain’t got long to stay here.’ A big bold choir shouting, ‘I woke up this morning with my mind stayed on freedom.’ All of the voices roaming, for centuries, have finally found a home here in this great monument to our pain, our suffering, and our victory.

When I was a little child growing up in rural Alabama, a short walk to the cotton fields, but hundreds of miles from Washington, from the Washington Monument or the Lincoln Memorial, my teachers would tell us to cut out of pictures of great African Americans for Carter G. Woodson’s Negro History Week, now called African American History Month. I became inspired by the stories of George Washington Carver, Jackie Robinson, Rosa Parks, and so many others whose life and work would be enshrined in this museum.

As these doors open, it is my hope that each and every person who visits this beautiful museum will walk away deeply inspired, filled with a greater respect for the dignity and the worth of every human being and a stronger commitment to the ideals of justice, equality and true democracy.

Thank you.”

Congressman John Lewis
September 24, 2016
Washington, D.C.

Photo by David Hume Kennerly

Canon 5Dsr, 100-400mm lens @400mm

Center for Creative Photography, The University of Arizona: David Hume Kennerly Archive.
© Center for Creative Photography, Arizona Board of Regents

You’re Fired!

July 21, 2020 By David Hume Kennerly

“You're Fired!"

The Story Behind the Photo

I covered the 2016 presidential campaign for CNN. The last two weeks were spent with Donald Trump’s traveling circus. (It was my 12^th campaign, and they all seem that way!). I spent weeks listening to crowds chanting, “Build a wall, kill them all! Lock her up! Hang the bitch!” You get the idea. It was ugly out there. On top of that, candidate Trump would single out those of us in the press at every rally, shouting, “Look at them, the crooked media!” Or, "Those cameras back here will never show this crowd," and singling out a cameraman on the press stand, "Look at him – he doesn't turn the camera. The only time they turn the camera is when we have a heckler, that's the only time they show the crowd." He was a broken record, it got old fast, but I never felt particularly threatened. The crowd, however, loved it, and especially enjoyed shouting, “CNN sucks!” at me when they saw my credential.

On election night I was in New York City in the Hilton Hotel ballroom with Trump’s supporters and the press corps to watch what most people thought would be the end of his presidential aspirations. It didn’t turn out that way, and what do you know, Donald J. Trump was going to be the 45^th president of the United States of America, and I was there to document it. Some of my friends thought I knew all along that it was going to happen. “Be honest Kennerly, you normally don’t cover losers.” I will admit the day before I had a feeling that it might happen. Of course I didn’t know, and believe me, I’ve photographed my share of losers.

Flash forward two weeks. CNN asked me to photograph an exclusive sit down with the president-elect in his office at Trump Tower. They had arranged it through Jared Kushner, who already was emerging as a major power player. This picture would replace my photo of Trump on the front of their campaign book, “Unprecedented: The Election that Changed Everything.” He had agreed to the sitting because it would become the cover of a special Inaugural edition. I was already a major contributor to the inside of “Unprecedented,” and had also spent time on the Hillary Clinton campaign taking pictures.

When I arrived at the president-elect's office, I was struck by all of the personal memorabilia he had, including a couch full of Trump bobblehead dolls, and other kitschy items. The walls were adorned with photos of him and various people, and the effect was more what I would have envisioned as the lair of the biggest car dealer in Omaha, not that of a billionaire-soon-to-be-president kind of place.

When President-elect Trump arrived, we talked a bit about having met in Los Angeles at Morton’s restaurant, a celebrity hangout at the time. It was a pleasant exchange, I gave him a little book of photos that I had taken on his campaign, minus the pictures of T-shirts threatening Hillary’s life. We were off to a good start.

I had a chair for him next to his desk, and you could see the Empire State Building out of the window behind him. It was clear he was running late, so I got right down to it. The first few frames were smiling, I thought too much, so I said, “Why don’t you give me the, ‘You’re fired look from The Apprentice?’” He obliged, but I thought it had swung too far in the other direction. I asked him to relax a bit and took a couple more. He then asked me if he could look at what I was doing, so I showed him the portraits in the back of the camera.” He seemed to like them, and said, “I look better here than in real life.” I said, “So you’re not going to fire Jared?” He said no, Jared was going to be ok, and we continued the brief shoot. Seventeen frames and two minutes later I was finished. I knew that I had nailed it, and wanted to quit while I was ahead.

Later that day Jeff Zucker, the head of CNN, picked out the photo he liked, and ran it on the cover as promised. That photo was somewhere between the big smile and the “You’re fired,” look and seemed just right. It is also the go-to picture that is used every day on the network when they do a story about the president. I am using the tough guy moment here.

Lest you think that all ended well, President-elect Trump tweeted a late-night reaction when he saw the book version. “CNN just released a book called ‘Unprecedented’ which explores the 2016 race & victory. Hope it does well but used worst cover photo of me.”

A few weeks later some people who were visiting Trump in his office before he moved to Washington reported that he had a dozen or so of the books on his desk that he was preparing to sign. I’m assuming they were face down . . .

Photo by David Hume Kennerly

Canon 5Dsr, 85mm 1.2 lens @f/2

Center for Creative Photography, The University of Arizona: David Hume Kennerly Archive.
© Center for Creative Photography, Arizona Board of Regents

Democratic Presidential Candidate Joe Biden, Hampton Beach, New Hampshire, February 09, 2020.

June 26, 2020 By David Hume Kennerly

I’ve been photographing Joe Biden on and off since I returned from the Vietnam War in 1973. This latest photograph of him was made February 9 this year in Hampton, New Hampshire, as he campaigned for president. In this frame the former Vice President was talking about his son Beau who died in 2015. The hurt he was feeling can be seen here. This was not acting.

In 1972, at 29 years old, Joe Biden was the sixth youngest person ever elected to the U.S. Senate, and it was a happy time in his life. But that joy was short lived. A few weeks after he was elected, Biden's wife Neilia and their one-year-old daughter Naomi were killed when a truck hit their car. His young boys Beau and Hunter survived the accident. Five years ago, one of them, 46-year-old Beau, died of brain cancer. As a father of three sons, I can’t imagine his anguish. When Biden spoke via video at the funeral of George Floyd in Houston, his message was straight from his heart and personal experience. He opened by saying,

“To George’s family and friends, Jill and I know that deep hole in your hearts when you bury a piece of your soul in this earth. As I said to you privately, we know. We know you will never feel the same again. For most people, the numbness you feel now will slowly turn day after day, season after season into purpose through the memory of the one they lost. But for you that day has come before you can fully grieve. And unlike most, you must grieve in public. It is a burden. A burden that is now your purpose to change the world for the better in the name of George Floyd.”

Looking at this portrait of him you know he meant it. Photography can reveal a bit of someone’s soul. I believe this portrait is one of those moments.

Photo by David Hume Kennerly

Canon 5DS R, 100-400 lens @400mm

Center for Creative Photography, The University of Arizona: David Hume Kennerly Archive.
© Center for Creative Photography, Arizona Board of Regents