What's next after processing film and one of the best practical jokes I ever witnessed

The next step after processing your film is making a print. It's actually making a contact sheet but, for the sake of the story, we'll skip that step. After loading the negative in the holder, putting it in the enlarger, focusing the grain and, composing the image on the easel, a "test strip" needs to be made in order to determine how long to expose the photographic paper to make a final print. That's done by taking a strip of photo paper and laying it on the easel. You then take a piece of matte board, or any other light proof material, and cover the photo paper, leaving a small area to be exposed to light. The board is then moved over an inch at a time until the entire strip of paper is exposed. What ends up happening is, you get varying degrees of light to dark exposures on one piece of paper. The exposure that looks the best is the time the entire sheet of paper needs to be exposed to create a full print of the image. Its not a super complicated process but, it does take a little bit of time. Which oddly enough,  reminds me of an "incident" that happened during my second year on the yearbook staff. Well, maybe not so much an "incident". It was much more of  a "practical joke", perpetrated on our new "photography advisor" by some unknown operators who happened to be working their evil in our high school darkroom. On that particular day, our new photography advisor, we will call him "Mr. Ray", had planned on showing the new photographers how to make a test strip so they could begin printing their own shots. The rest of us "seasoned photographers" had been trained in an environment with little to no adult supervision once we left the room to shoot an assignment or, when we walked back into the darkroom to "make prints". The people in charge of the photographers were one year older than us and it seemed to work out ok. While we did make prints, do the shoots, and get the work done that needed to be done, there were also great "Nerf Basketball" games played in that darkroom. It was full contact with no holds barred. I'm surprised the paramedics weren't called in during some of those games. That first year on the photography staff was a blast. We all became good, close friends. We went on camping trips together, hung out together at school, and were just as close to a "gang" as a bunch of nerdy photographers could be. Anyway, getting back to the story, So I guess the "evil perpetrators" working our darkroom got wind of Mr. Ray's demonstration. They then proceeded to put in motion, one of the funniest photography pranks I've seen. It seems as though the perps, had "pre-exposed" a few sheets of scrap photo paper that were commonly used for, well, test strips in our darkroom. It was a small box with five or six pieces of paper in it. They must have just opened the box with all of the lights on in the darkroom, fogging the paper to the point where, once put in the developer, the paper would immediately turn "completely black" in a matter of seconds, as opposed to the image slowly appearing on the paper over the course of say, a minute or two. It was genius! That afternoon, Mr. Ray had all of the newbies surrounding him at the enlarger. He meticulously exposed the scrap piece of paper, which he had pulled from the very same box that was tampered with by the unknown evil-doers. After explaining the process, Mr. Ray then moved to the chemical trays and put the paper into the developer. It turned completely black in about 5 seconds. Stunned at the outcome, he laughed nervously and redid the test strip in order to demonstrate the "proper technique" of making test strips. Once again, he placed the exposed paper into the chemicals and, once again, it turned completely black. Only this time, it took a mere 3 seconds. [ must have been closer to the top of the box when the lights went on ] Completely flabbergasted, he turned to where the "seasoned photographers" were and looked for a reaction. All I can say is .... "good thing that room was so dark". We stood there stone faced like professional poker players, giving him nothing. He turned away in disgust and grabbed a new piece of photo paper from a different box. All went well this time and face was saved. We left the room with our poker faces intact. I vaguely remember a short discussion with Mr. Ray after the session in the darkroom but, without proof, it was hard to lay blame on anyone that day. It's a story I would tell, and laugh about with friends for years, right into my professional photography career 25 years later. On one particular day, I was in the photo store that supplied my film and all of the other things needed to run a photography business telling this story. As I approached the end of the tale, one of the salesmen suddenly interrupted and asked me where I went to high school. I told him and he immediately said "was Mr. Ray your teacher there?" I slowly answered .... "yes, why do you ask?" He then proceeded to tell me he had known "Mr. Ray for years", but had never heard that story from him. To make a long story just a little longer, I saw the interrupting salesman a couple of months later. He had a huge grin on his face as he walked over to me in the store. He had told Mr. Ray the story I had told him. I asked him what he said.

Without hesitation ..... 25 years later ..... Mr. Ray's only reply was ...... "I KNEW IT !!"

We all ended up going back and forth with Mr. Ray the entire year. [ except for Terry ] It was actually kind of fun. It may have looked like I was employing the "teacher torture" used so subtly by my friend Steve in junior high. But the reality was, if Mr. Ray was going to be one of us on the photography staff, he had to pay his dues like everyone else did before him. We had all gone through the "prank-ing thing" our first year so we figured, why shouldn't he?

Acceptance takes on many forms.

Sometimes, even through practical jokes.

Boxer Shorts and a New Crew

So here I am. Sitting in the yearbook classroom with the rest of the staff for the first time. Aside from the fact that I was pretty nervous in this new environment, the new boxer shorts I was wearing were all bunched up and it felt to me like everyone in the room could tell. Who knew you had to pull them down after you put your pants on? I sure as heck didn't. Wearing them with OP shorts at the skatepark was much easier for the simple fact that you wanted them to show. It was "the skater look" at it's very infancy. But pants were a whole different deal. How's that for a crazy memory? It's an even crazier memory, considering this would be the first day I would be officially known as "a photographer". After getting past all of the boring stuff the yearbook adviser had to say, we all broke up into our respective groups to prepare for the upcoming year. This would be the first time I would be meeting the the other photographers on the staff. My "new crew", if you will. They were all loud and seemed a bit crazy. [except for Terry] I started having flashbacks of Steve in junior high and my trip to the principals office. But I figured it would, at the very least, be an interesting year. Everyone introduced themselves and went about their business. I was standing there with nothing to do when Frank and Terry, staffers from the year before, came over and began to ask about my photography experience. I had general shooting skills but I had never been in the darkroom. I couldn't wait to see the room with the red light, filled with enlargers, trays and tanks. I had seen it a thousand times in the movies. Unfortunately, the light in a darkroom is a very weak yellow-green-ish color. So the impact wasn't quite what I was expecting. It didn't matter. It was all new. It was all cool. The first thing I learned was how to develop film. Everybody who was new started there. The film was mostly the real general, posed stuff. The "football game film" was handled only by the person who shot it, which was never "the new guy" until later in the season and, only the weakest games of the schedule. The hardest thing about the whole process was loading the film onto the reels so they can be put into a tank for processing. This skill is usually learned in the light, sitting at a table with some old film and a reel. Sounds good in theory, but it has to be done in complete darkness. And I mean "complete" darkness. The first time I went "lights out" in the film processing room, I was amazed at how dark 99.99999 % darkness really was. With the exception of the glow in the dark timer hands, which were turned around while loading film reels, it was black. You wait for your eyes to adjust but they never do. Anyway, I messed up a couple of rolls the first few times but soon had the hang of it. The smell of the chemicals. The sound of the film going on the reel just right in the dark. Watching the clock as time expires in the processing, were as exciting to me as anything I could remember. My first "good rolls" of film were awesome. I had shot them, then processed the film. It was a major step in my photography experience. It's actually kind of sad that most new photography students and shooters will never know what it's like to be in a darkroom, old school style. 

Looking back at them now, [because I still have the negatives] my first "good rolls" of processed film  were thin and lacked contrast.

But at that time, it was ... once again ... the coolest thing I had ever seen.

I had no idea it was a job interview

Off to the yearbook classroom and my first meeting with "Mrs. D". She was a small woman with a big presence. Completely intense and kind of scary, she freaked me out right away. "I see here that you want to join the yearbook staff ... is that correct?" Yes ma'am, I do. "Do you have any photography experience?" Yes ma'am, I do. "O.K. , let me look over your application and I will get back to you." Thank you.

That was it. I walked away not feeling too good about the whole encounter but, you never know. A few days later, Mrs. D sent a pass to one of my classes so we could meet again. I was very nervous and excited at the same time. I went to her classroom, which was empty at the time. It was like the beginning of a scary movie. She was sitting at her desk doing some paperwork when I came in. She stopped what she was doing and looked up at me. "I wasn't sure you had enough experience but, I talked with our photo editor Bob. He said he thought you would make a good addition to the team. Welcome to the yearbook staff. We will see you next year."

That was it.

I was in.

My life in photography would begin a new chapter. My hopes of free football games and pom pom girls may have just been realized.

Thanks Bob .... it wouldn't have happened without your help.

© 2010 Tony Hernandez Photography

Early influences, Teacher Torture ...... and a trip to the principals office

My life as a "good kid" seemed to be going well. Even though I lived in "La Victoria Loca" .... I was, for the most part, able to stay out of any real trouble. My only trip to the principals office in grade school was for being in a fight where I got socked in the eye but never returned the punch. Other than that, my life was pretty drama free. That was, until I got into Junior High. [ I think it's also called middle school ] It was then, 7th grade, when I met a guy in my 1st art class named Steve H. He was a tall skinny football player dude who was very into art, which was a strange combination in those days. Anyway, this Steve guy, as far as I could tell, was a bit crazy but very artistic. During one of our classes, he invented a dog character named Otto for an assignment. He then proceeded to make a paper mache figure of the dog for the next assignment. I know that doesn't sound like much but Steve, in his youthful wisdom, had made the figure of Otto the dog with it's leg lifted as if he was preparing to pee. We were sitting there laughing at it when the teacher came by to check out our work. She looked at the figure ... looked at Steve ... looked at me ... then just walked away. I thought it was the hardest I would ever laugh in my life ..... right up until our art class switched teachers with the other class. [ just to mix up the art experience by the two teachers ] We went from a young female "former Playboy playmate" teacher in her 20's to an old man by the name of Mr. Salazar. If there was ever a bizzarro world in junior high art classes, this was it. Mr. Salazar was great. He had to be nearing retirement age by the time we got there so, being "cool and hip" like the other teacher was a bit of a struggle for him, which in turn, made it fun for Steve to mess with him in the most subtle ways. But "subtle" would be thrown out the door a few days later. On this particular day, we were sitting in the back of the classroom as Mr. Salazar had just begun the process of teaching us all about pottery and ceramics. He had a big lump of clay on his desk from which he was pulling golfball sized pieces off of and, tossing them to the students in the class. I guess it was his way of being "cool and hip". But Steve, once again in his youthful wisdom, didn't think it was that cool or hip. When Mr. Salazar tossed him a piece of clay, he caught it, squeezed it in his hand, and proceeded to throw it back at him as hard as he could. It missed him by inches, thudding hard into the chalkboard directly behind him with a loud bang. The entire class jumped at the sound of the clay hitting the green board. It stuck there like a cartoon pancake for a second, only to slip down in slow motion and land on the ledge where the chalk was kept. Everyone in the room sat there in silence ..... well, almost everyone. In the very back, were two students, who were doing their very best, not to bust out completely in laughter. The next thing I knew, Steve and I were on our way to the principals office. I had never been in the junior high version of that office so it was kind of an adventure. On our way there, Steve decided that we weren't in that much of a hurry to get there so, we spent the next 20 or so minutes going to some of his other friends classrooms just to say hi. It was my first real experience not following the rules. I think I enjoyed it more than I should have.

I recently saw Steve for the first time in 30 years at a class reunion. When I asked him if he remembered the "clay incident" he shouted out "Mr. Salazar!"

Steve's no fear approach at living life and creating art is something that has stuck with me since that day.

Hippy Strap and the Black Hat

I now have this cool camera. I take it everywhere I go. Photography magazines and catalogs are my new vice. So many new trends in cameras and gear. Zoom lenses, flash units, motor drives, light meters. All sorts of goodies filled the pages. But there was one piece of equipment that seemed to be "the thing to have" back in the day. It was a 2" wide camera strap that looked like it had been made by a hippy belt weaver. I'm sure you remember the look. I found one at a camera store, bought it, and put it on my camera. No more geeky looking skinny strap for me. It's funny how something as simple as this can make such a change in one's attitude. I now felt like "one of the in crowd", photographically speaking of course. The first time I saw this awesome accessory was my sophomore year in high school. There was this guy, a year ahead of me, which made him a junior, who used to walk around school with a camera and wearing a black hat. He seemed to know everybody. Jocks, cheerleaders, AV clubbers, everybody. All clique lines were blurred with this guy. He stood on the sidelines of all the football games shooting pictures of the action, and the "pom pom girls". He was, in effect, my new hero. His name was Bob and he was the "dude" when it came to photography at my high school. Aside from being the photo editor of the yearbook, Bob was also a role model when it came to "shameless self-promotion". He had T-shirts made with his picture on it, wearing that black hat, holding a camera, and a tag line that said: "Photos by Romi". The fact that he was still in high school and already promoting himself did not escape me. My Dad would call this "a good hustle", which meant my Dad was impressed. I met Bob in the bleachers of a basketball game that year. He was videotaping the game for the coach with what looked like an old reel to reel tape machine with a clunky camera connected to it. I went up and started talking to him. He was more than happy to talk about photography, being on the yearbook staff, and shooting pictures of pom pom girls. After a while, I mentioned an interest in being on the yearbook staff as a photographer. He said: "go talk to Mrs. D". She was the Teacher in charge of the book. I figured I had nothing to lose and said I would talk to her next week. Talking with Bob that day was a revelation. It was the fist time I was able to discuss photography with someone without them being totally confused. He understood the lingo, the equipment, and the passion shooting pictures evoked in ones creative drive.

All I could think about was shooting pictures of pom pom girls and getting into football games for free.

©2010 Tony Hernandez Photography

Live .... Learn .... and Reload

I couldn't believe it! I now had a real life, honest to goodness, 35mm SLR camera! It may sound like I'm making a big deal out of such a small thing but, at that moment, I was in heaven. On our way out of J.C. Penny's, we stopped off at the camera department to pick up some film. The guy sold me a couple of rolls of Kodak "Tri-X" black and white. He said it was the best film you could have in your camera because it was "fast and versatile". I had no idea what that meant. I just knew I wanted "the best". We got home and I tore into the boxes that held my new possession. [ O.K. , I didn't really "tear into them". But I sure got that camera out in a hurry. ] It was all new and shiny. The lens was spotless. There were dials and levers everywhere. It was at that moment I suddenly came to the realization ..... "I had no idea how to use this thing"! Up until then, the closest I came to a real camera was my cousin Bobby's Minolta. Oh well .... I guess I will just have to read the instructions. I poured through the manual, looked at the illustrations, and figured I knew enough to get things going. I prepared to "load my camera" for the first time. By the way, one of the reasons the Canon TX was only 250 bucks including the lens was because it was the basic, stripped down model. No frills, nothing fancy. Which also excluded Canon's new "QL" film loading. That particular feature allowed you to just place the film leader across the back of the camera, close the back, and begin advancing the film to the first shot in the roll. I had read all about in preparation for my new camera but, unfortunately for me, my camera did not have it. I did exactly as I had read in the magazine ads. All loaded up, I headed outside to "capture the world". It was amazing how different things looked through the lens of a camera. Different angles gave different results. I blasted through that first roll of film in record time. Shooting anything and everything. Our dog. My house. The ditch behind our house that looked like a shear cliff through the viewfinder of my new TX. It was a blast! I headed back to the house to reload. I guess I didn't read the part about loading and unloading very well. I just opened the camera back without "rewinding the film" back into the cassette! It was then that I realized two things.

1. You must rewind the film back into the cassette before you open the back of the camera.

2. My camera didn't have the QL loading system so, every shot I took on my first day out with my new camera wasn't there.

I had spent my time shooting without film going through the camera. It became a valuable lesson about reading the instructions, learning how to load a camera correctly, and taking what I considered at the time to be "a new toy", seriously.

Nothing about photography would ever be the same for me again.

I had to have one

After my cousin Bobby had left for home, I just couldn't get that camera out of my mind. I was a sophomore in high school at the time. I wasn't making much, if any money but, I knew I had to find a way to buy a 35mm camera. I did odd jobs around the house and restaurant . Not much money there but, it was a start. While visiting the J.C. Penny's at Tri-City Mall, I found a Canon TX with a 50mm 1.8 lens for around 250.00. It wasn't the Minolta my cousin had but it was cool enough for me. It had all of the basics. I put down what little money I had saved and put it on "lay away". We went to the mall weekly so, I would visit the camera department and look at the Canon cameras they had on display. It was making me crazy. There had to be a better, faster way to get the camera paid for. As we returned home for the mall one day, I saw my Honda Trail 70 sitting there in the carport. I thought about it for a while then, decided to sell it in order to get the camera. For the record, Honda Trail 70s are now quite collectible and fetch anywhere from 1000.00 to 2500.00 depending on condition and originality. But back in the day, a used one was worth around .... 200.00 bucks. Which was just about how much I needed to buy the Canon TX. Within a week, my dad had found a guy who was interested in buying my Honda. He paid me the full 200.00 and off it went. I have to admit, I was a little bummed to see it go but, I now had the money to get my camera. I had no idea it would begin a life long journey into the world of photography. My mom took me to J.C. Penny's that afternoon. I went to the layaway department and plunked down my money. The lady behind the counter took it and went to the back to get my purchase. When she came out, she had a strange look on her face.

I can remember it like it was yesterday. She said " that's a lot of money for two small boxes".

I answered "I know, it's a camera".

She still looked puzzled as we walked away.

 © 2010 Tony Hernandez Photography

Fast forward ..... mini bikes and the military

One of my most prized possessions was a Honda Trail 70 with a 4 speed and a clutch. My neighbor and best friend Tony B. had one too. It was orange with the black stripe. No lawnmower powered mini bike could keep up with us. Drags on the "Victoria Speedway" [ Evergreen Road before it was paved ] were so much fun. I had a great time riding it. I even jumped it on occasion. Nothing too big mind you. Just a little air every now and again. Then, my cousin Bobby from Washington state came to visit while on leave from the Army. He was a paratrooper like my uncle Mike. He had just returned from Japan and decided to pay us a visit before he went home to Washington. While overseas, he had picked up a Minolta srt201 camera with all of the goodies. Wide angles, Telephotos, flashes, slaves [ I had no idea what they were but, they were cool ] and all sorts of film. It was the coolest thing I had ever seen. He let me check it out. Look through it. He changed the lenses, then proceeded to tell my uncle Mike about all of the things that were in his camera case. I don't think my uncle had any clue about what Bobby was talking about.

But I knew. The Honda's days were numbered.

It was the coolest thing I had ever seen.

First realizations of a future commercial photographer

I've been asked, on many occasions, what a "commercial photographer is" after responding to the question: "what do you do for a living?" So let's just clear that up right now. A commercial photographer is a person who "shoots photographs for money". Plain and simple. Not that all photographers consider themselves as such but, that's just the way it is. It's what I do and how I make my living. My first realization that one could make money shooting pictures came not too long after getting that Polaroid camera from my dad. As my good fortune would have it, my parents owned a bar and restaurant right next door to our house. A locals kind of place in Victory Acres that turned into a Mexican music extravaganza on Friday and Saturday nights. The place would be packed. A live band would be playing the "unda-unda-unda" bass line of the songs while the patrons danced and drank the night away. Sounds pretty romantic, doesn't it? Well, to tell you the truth, it was kind of fun, and a drag, all at the same time. Everyone in the family had to work there at one time or another depending on where one was needed or, to fill in for someone who didn't show up. Filling in was the drag part. The fun part was taking money at the door for a cover charge on the weekends. Being a "trust-worthy" son, I was tasked with collecting the 1 dollar cover as the people came in. This is where the Polaroid camera and making money shooting pictures thing came about for me. I had been messing around with the square shooter Polaroid for a few weeks. It was fun but, there had to be more. Then it hit me! I had a plan. All I had to do was, skim 8 dollars from the cover money, take a short break during the evenings work, pop over to the Circle K, grab a pack of film and flash cubes, and get back to work. Only this time, with my trusty Polaroid. By now, everyone was having a good time. Drinks were being consumed. Life was good. It was then that I would pull out my Polaroid and tell people:  "Hey, I'll shoot your picture for 2 bucks." It worked like a charm. Within a half an hour, I was able to sell all of my Polaroid pictures to the patrons, return the original 8 dollars to the cover charge money, and still have a profit of 8 dollars after. If I did it a couple of times in an evening, I had 16 bucks by the end of the night. Not bad dough for a 12 year old kid in 1972.

©2010 Tony Hernandez Photograpy

Here we go

When I was a kid, around 12, my dad gave me a Polaroid Square Shooter II camera.  Also included were a package of film and a couple of flash cubes. My dad was always good at "random gifting" so, when the camera came about, I thought it was pretty cool. I loaded it up and started snapping pictures. I can't even remember what they were of. I vaguely remember shots of family members and the Polaroid film not always coming out of the camera right. Boy was that a mess. But when it did come out right, it was awesome! The first 8 pack of film went fast. I had to have more. There was something about this, about capturing a moment in time, that grabbed me right then. It's weird, but I have always looked at photography as capturing a moment of time forever. It was there, then it's gone. Except for the picture just taken. Weird ... right? Anyway, off to the Circle K across the street for more film and flash cubes. I started taking Polaroid shots of anything. It got to the point where I could get the film/print to come out correctly almost every time. I wish I still had some of the original shots I took with that camera. It's what started it all.