I was working for a small advertising agency as the art director. What I liked about it was that I was involved in all aspects of our clients advertising. One of our clients was a Vermont ski resort. For their ads, and brochures I was going to shoot the usual photographs, the ski lodge, and all the ski facilities. But I wanted something more. Then I thought of this great idea, unfortunately it got me into trouble. I wanted to have photographs of skiers coming down the slope, but looking down at them from above.
The agency owner also thought it was a great idea, and since he, and his family were excellent skiers, all we needed was someone to shoot it, ME! The idea was that I would ride up the chair lift to the top of the mountain, of course without skis, and then when we were set, I would ride the chair lift down, while they skied under me so I could photograph them. NOBODY EVER RIDES THE CHAIR LIFT DOWN!
It sounded simple, except that as an adult, for some reason, I had become afraid of heights. I never understood why. As a child, heights never bothered me. During the summer vacation from grade school, some of the games the kids on the block played, involved running about the roofs-tops of our five story apartment houses. Or climbing down the fire escapes.
When my father, and I visited Coney Island, we always ended at the Parachute Jump. The ride was originally at the 1939 New York World’s Fair, and was called the Parachute Drop. The inspiration for the ride was how paratroopers were trained during WWII.
This was a simple, and sometimes scary ride. There was a wooded seat for two with a wood back, and iron bar sides. All that was holding you in, and not securely, was a simple chain that went across the front. With your feet dangling in the air, and the chair fastened to several guide wires, you started to rise slowly to the tower, 262 feet above you.
I guess if you had a fear of being in the open at high heights, this would not be a good ride for you. Actually, I loved it. Rising up slowly, looking out to the beach below, and the Atlantic Ocean. When you finally reached the top, there would be a slight jolt, and the parachute would be released from the mechanism pulling you up, and with the parachute opening, and catching the air we would slowly glide down, still being held by the guide wires. But that was then, and now I had talked myself into this situation.
Well, the chair lift ride, up the mountain wasn’t too bad. I mean when you’re going up the mountain, and when you look down, you’re only 20 or 30 feet off the ground. It was the next part I was dreading.
Here I was on the top of the mountain, and as the chair lift went off the top of the mountain, all I saw was open space, and I was very high up. Somehow, I pulled myself together, and I figured if I concentrate on just looking into the camera’s view-finder, I would survive, and I did. The shoot was perfect, and I got all the shots I wanted, and I was very happy to get off the ski lift, and back on terra-firmer.
Many years later, I was the post production supervisor, and second unit director, working on the, ABC series, “Belleview Emergency.” I had to shoot, and direct the helicopter footage. I was surprised that with my door open, so the second cameraman could shoot from the side, I didn’t have any fear. Especially, when the pilot, titled the helicopter over on my side, and with only a seat belt holding me in.
I think it was that I was inside the helicopter, and not in the open, like on the chair lift.
