Newsreel and still photographers generally got along quite well out in the field – especially since many newsreelers in the early days started out as still photogs. However, there was the occasional print reporter who liked to stir up trouble with the newsreelers…

On July 5, 1931, an article was published in the Chicago Tribune that was written by reporter Tom Pettey and directed at the newsreel cameramen and soundmen in Chicago. The article basically called the newsreelers a bunch of uncouth roughnecks who barged their way into events with their gear and shoved their cameras and mikes into the faces of newsmakers with the implied message that unlike Pettey and his genial print brethren, the newsreelers were not “real” journalists.

A scathing rebuttal to Pettey’s article was written by a Chicago newsreel cameraman under the pseudonym of “the Sassiety Reporter” (who was actually Paramount News cameraman Fred “Red” Felbinger).

And the actual article itself, “Pettey Advises Brake for Bold News Reel Men,” that pissed the newsreelers off back in 1931 can be read in the Chicago Tribune‘s historical archives if you want to give the newspaper $3.95 for the privilege.

You know, I’m forced to read the daily papers just to know what I ought to burn up the old raw stock on next, and a few days ago I lamps the prize raspberry story that ever rolled over them time yarn presses. I nominates it right now and and right here for the Pulitzer prize of the best “sour grapes story” of the year, if this bird Pulitzer would have wanted to waste his dough on sumpin like that.

What’s making my collar wilt right now is an article written by Tom Pettey, a journalist who pays his weekly board bill, thanks to the Chi Tribune. Me and Pettey is in the same game, both journalists. I think thats what we modestly and jokingly calls ourselves.

I guess the only difference between me and Pettey is he’s gotta be a journalist to eat and I’m one for the fun I get out of kiddin youse guys. Also, I found out I eat better by pushin a button on a newsreel camera and kiddin a sound engineer into doin it my way instead of tryin to stick to Pettey’s racket.

This bird Pettey turned the blow torch on my usual meek and mild nature by writing a story for his sheet all about we newsreel men being a little too high handed in our tactics of gettin what’s what, and from what I know of the newsreel boys the guy is all wet.

Now if this bozo is out to make a livin glorifyin the world’s goins on for the Press that’s all right, too, but when he gets so’s he run out of ideas and has to pick on us screen historians and write a lot of sour grapes about my gang okeh by me too. I’m all set on the challenge.

Where’s That Express Printed?

Pettey says we got the insolence of a Bronx commuter on the “Lennox Ave. Express.” Well, I don’t know much about the Lennox Ave. Express, as every time I go’s to N. Y. my newsreel buddies motor me out to their beautiful homes in the country to see the wife and kiddies.

Pettey maybe got the inspiration to write the dang story on his way to work on the Lennox Ave. Express when some dame grabbed the seat he was tryin to land for hisself. Now this news snooper is all wet and I doubt a lightweight like him could qualify in the pitcher news profession as it takes a real he-man and a broad shouldered one to lug them 150 pound groan boxes and a intelligent one to contact and shoot the assignments we get.

Journalists only gotta lug a pencil so’s to mispell the facks, but that even don’t make a difference because the city desk rewrites the stuff anyhow. Nobody can rewrite the scenes the newsreel boys get, though. It’s either there or it ain’t. That’s why the lens reporters “dash around town in screaming sound wagons.” Mr. Pettey, you see us bozos can’t sit in some speakeasy, like a newspaper reporter, and listen to some hombre tell us what happened, then take out a pencil and write a eye witness story and then phone a rewrite man and sob out the facts. The newsreel boys gotta get on the scene—no second- hand information for them.

Thousand to One Shot

You know, they say the old Chinese boys were full of wisdom, and we all heard how one of these laundry managers once pulled the one about “one picture being worth a thousand words.” Well, Mr. Pettey, accordin to that, one newsreel hombre has got more vocabulary on one of his fingertips than all youse high-powered journalists in a body.

I see you mention in that article also about the only thing that we shoots is baby shows, parades, air formations, etc. Oh yeah? Ever see the movie “With Byrd at the South Pole”? It won out as the best movie of 1930.

Well, it was photographed by two newsreel boys—Joe Rucker and Willard Vanderveer. You ever covered the South Pole, Mr. Pettey? Then there’s Ray Fernstrom, the first news gatherer that reached Greenley Island the time the Bremen fliers sat down there. Ray also was a newsreeler, and after he got his shots he flies back and what happens — a bunch of youse scribe heroes jot down what he saw and signs your name to it.

Charlie David, another lens shooter, recorded one of the greatest thrills of all time years ago when he got a racing car turning over in front of his box and throwing the driver through space. It’s still one of the real thrillers and the newspapers borrowed his shot. Ketch on?

When the endurance fliers were up at St. Louis they dropped down interviews to the scribes daily, and when a newsreel wanted a interview, what happens? Norman Alley, a cameraman, goes up in the refueler and drops down a rope ladder with a mike and gets his interview. More guts there, Mr. Pettey, than any you pencil pushers got.

How’d You Like to Be an Editor?

Ever hear of Charlie Ford? Well, he wuz one of us newsreelers, but he’s a Editor now. Guess he’s one up on you, Mr. Pettey.

S’pose I could keep this up indefinitely, and they’d all make good true adventure stories which would make good readin for guys in your callin, ridin in stuffy Lenox Ave. Expresses to cover a assignment, but these newsreel baboons is just too modest to fly their colors before some of youse high powered pencil pushers.

I see you also say in your story “Personally, I am in favor of throwing the entire lot to the regular news photographers. Those hardy fellows would know exactly what to do with them.” Well, well, ain’t you the bright alert bird, though?

You know all the still men is pals of us, also. What’s more, most of the newsreel men have graduated from the still game, and if it came to a showdown the lens snoopers would combine on teachin youse pencil pushers a thing or two on co-operation.

I ain’t mentioning any names, but I know a couple of journalists I loaned supper money and they ain’t exactly made any stabs yet to pay it back. You know it’s some of the fairy tales you reporter birds boil up about, some event what gets us into a jam with our editors. We cover the facts as is with a lens. It’s the truth our old boxes pick up and then some of you pencil pushers get a lot of long wheelbase words sizzlin over the wires all about the stupendous, marvelous, etc., display and our editors back east think “Boy, what a hot story, what a picture!” and then the film comes in and shows a handful of planes landin and takin off, what really happened. Well, I don’t know, maybe we ain’t in the class of you journalists.

A Cheer for a Journalist

Now, when youse scribes is back sopping up more spiked beer these boys is chauffeuring their trucks out to make a human interest feature or frame some thriller, such as landing a blimp on a boat for the first time in history, and then what happens? Youse guys dash over and shoot a hot story over the wires all about it. Why? Because it’s news, but one of these here newsreel birds what don’t come into your class has originated, contacted and pulled it successfully, and then in dashes youse journalists with your borrowed pencils.

Now Mr. Pettey, please don’t judge the intelligence of newsreel boys by my column. The boys is really intelligent, but there is always one exception to the rule, and I guess I am it in this racket. I write this because I think I am a journalist—(Hey! guys like you and me ought to spell that word with a capital J, eh?) and all the cameramen leave me think I am funny and then they reads it and laff and feel sorry for me, but they don’t talk much about my column so’s I don’t ketch on that they are giving me a break.

Also I notice they read your story and kept mum, so I guess they feel the same about you and are leaving you feel like a big shot writer also. You know the reason I am sticking to this writing business (pardon me, Mr. Pettey, you and me ought to always call it Journalism, ain’t it?) Well, the reason I’m stickin is this, in case I don’t make good as a news reel historian I got writin’ experience, and as a last resort to keep the Woolif from the door I can get into vour game.

As they say on the “Lennox Ave. Express”—A big bronx cheer for you, Mr. Pettey.