A Reporter Goes to Great Heights, Literally, to Get the Shot

This “backstory” is a part of a collection of articles that describes some of the obstacles that Seven Days reporters faced while pursuing Vermont news, events and people in 2025.

My very first job in journalism, more than 25 years ago, was at a tiny paper in Eastern Washington. I was responsible for almost everything except selling the ads and operating the printing press.

That included taking photographs, something I had never done. Looking back on the pictures I snapped then, I cringe. More often than not, I failed to capture the most dramatic moments of devastating fires, deadly traffic accidents and exciting rodeos.

Digital photography did not yet exist, so I never knew if I’d captured a newsworthy image until I got back to paper’s darkroom and developed the film. On deadline, I had to print whatever I had. Once it was the county’s “Cattleman of the Year,” positioned in such a way that a pair of mounted steer horns seemed to grow out of his head. He was displeased.

When I moved on to larger papers, I eventually put down my camera bag and ceded the shooting to award-winning staff photographers.

Now those days are over. Like everyone, I’ve got a camera in my pocket, and, increasingly, Seven Days and other cash-strapped media outlets are asking reporters to take their own photos when possible. The pros we employ when it matters most are among the best I’ve worked with: Luke Awtry, Daria Bishop, Caleb Kenna, Jeb Wallace-Brodeur. But I am rarely without my Canon digital SLR and Samsung Galaxy S23 smartphone.

Something about the process of composing and capturing fleeting moments helps me see all the angles of a story. For example, while reporting on how solar companies are grappling with the elimination of tax credits, I could have just interviewed half a dozen executives. But they’re not the ones doing the real work; the installers are. Good photojournalism is about getting as close to the action as possible.

That’s how I found myself in North Pomfret, watching a crew from Catamount Solar dancing atop a farmhouse roof. I asked the foreman if I could go up with the guys. I expected him to say “Hell, no,” but instead it was: “Go ahead. You’re not on our insurance.”

I propped a ladder against the house, slung my camera around my neck, climbed up to the peak, and scampered over to where Devin Perkins and Collin Ash were installing the home’s new PV array.

From my precarious perch, I saw clearly as they hauled up the panels, fit them into place, connected the wiring and bolted them down. It was physically demanding, dangerous work, even on that warm September day.

I must have taken 200 photos, but none was quite right. Then, for just one second, Ash reached up toward a bolt he still needed to fasten. As he did so, his image reflected off the panels beneath him, and I knew I had my shot. Click.

The original print version of this article was headlined “Most Satisfying Shot”