Selfies Are A Big Part of Today's Culture
By: Joe R. Browning
The first “selfie” (so to speak) recorded by a print publication in Franklin County, Illinois, took place Monday, January 19, 1987, when Benton Evening News Publisher, Joe Browning, took a selfie with Joe Ann Malkovich, the newspaper’s Society Editor. The setting for the historic photograph was the main news room at the newspaper’s offices on East Church Street in Benton, Ill. (Maybe this isn't true, but it sure sounds good. And, no! That is not a cigarette but a white pen.)
We humans are unusual animals. We love talking about and taking photographs of ourselves. In the last two decades, a new word has crept into our vocabulary. That word is “selfie.”. According to my online sources, a selfie is a self-portrait photograph, typically taken with a digital camera or camera phone held in the hand or supported by a selfie stick. Most selfies are taken with a camera held at arm’s length or pointed at a mirror, rather than by using a self-timer.
The process of one taking one’s picture is not new. In 1839, exactly a hundred years before I was born, American pioneer in photography Robert Cornelius, produced a daguerreotype of himself. A daguerreotype was the first publicly announced photographic process, and for nearly twenty years, it was the one most commonly used. Because the process was slow, he was able to uncover the lens, run into the shot for a minute or more, and then replaces the lens cap. He recorded on the back of his first daguerreotype, “The first light picture ever taken. 1839.”
It was not until the debut of the portable Kodak Brownie box camera in 1900 that led to photographic self-portraiture becoming a more widespread technique. The method was usually by a mirror and stabilizing the camera either on a nearby object or a tripod while framing via a viewfinder on the top of the box. It was not an easy process.
Teens today seem to love selfies. Russian Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna, at age 13, was one of the first teenagers to take her picture using a mirror to send to a friend in 1914. In the letter that accompanied the photograph, she wrote, “I took this picture of myself looking at the mirror. It was very hard as my hands were trembling.”
The earliest usage of the word selfie has been traced as far back as 2002. It first appeared in Karl Kruszelnicki’s ‘Dr. Karl Self-Service Science Forum,’ an Australian internet forum on Sept. 13, 2002.
Dwayne Johnson, star of the movie San Andreas, wanted to do more than star in a movie. He attempted to set the Guinness World Record for taking the most selfies in under three minutes. And, as is the case with most everything the Rock tries, he crushed the record. He took 105 selfies with fans on the red carpet of the London premiere of his movie, easily surpassing the previous record. Guinness World Records have an adjudicator to witness attempts of the record. Mark McKinley checks to see that the full face and neck of the participants are visible and that the photos are in focus.
The first “selfie” (so to speak) recorded by a print publication in Franklin County, Illinois, took place Monday, January 19, 1987, when Benton Evening News Publisher, Joe Browning, took a selfie with Joe Ann Malkovich, the newspaper’s Society Editor. The setting for the historic photograph was the main news room at the newspaper’s offices on East Church Street in Benton, Ill. (Maybe this isn't true, but it sure sounds good. And, no! That is not a cigarette but a white pen.)
We humans are unusual animals. We love talking about and taking photographs of ourselves. In the last two decades, a new word has crept into our vocabulary. That word is “selfie.”. According to my online sources, a selfie is a self-portrait photograph, typically taken with a digital camera or camera phone held in the hand or supported by a selfie stick. Most selfies are taken with a camera held at arm’s length or pointed at a mirror, rather than by using a self-timer.
The process of one taking one’s picture is not new. In 1839, exactly a hundred years before I was born, American pioneer in photography Robert Cornelius, produced a daguerreotype of himself. A daguerreotype was the first publicly announced photographic process, and for nearly twenty years, it was the one most commonly used. Because the process was slow, he was able to uncover the lens, run into the shot for a minute or more, and then replaces the lens cap. He recorded on the back of his first daguerreotype, “The first light picture ever taken. 1839.”
It was not until the debut of the portable Kodak Brownie box camera in 1900 that led to photographic self-portraiture becoming a more widespread technique. The method was usually by a mirror and stabilizing the camera either on a nearby object or a tripod while framing via a viewfinder on the top of the box. It was not an easy process.
Teens today seem to love selfies. Russian Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna, at age 13, was one of the first teenagers to take her picture using a mirror to send to a friend in 1914. In the letter that accompanied the photograph, she wrote, “I took this picture of myself looking at the mirror. It was very hard as my hands were trembling.”
The earliest usage of the word selfie has been traced as far back as 2002. It first appeared in Karl Kruszelnicki’s ‘Dr. Karl Self-Service Science Forum,’ an Australian internet forum on Sept. 13, 2002.
Dwayne Johnson, star of the movie San Andreas, wanted to do more than star in a movie. He attempted to set the Guinness World Record for taking the most selfies in under three minutes. And, as is the case with most everything the Rock tries, he crushed the record. He took 105 selfies with fans on the red carpet of the London premiere of his movie, easily surpassing the previous record. Guinness World Records have an adjudicator to witness attempts of the record. Mark McKinley checks to see that the full face and neck of the participants are visible and that the photos are in focus.
TOTAL PREMIUM PACKAGE
By: Joe R. Browning
As the Voice of the Benton Rangers, I was fortunate to have the opportunity to call the play-by-play of every one of his high school games. I also traveled to Louisville, KY to describe one of his 1972 Olympic practice games. I became an early believer in his ability and his personage. He could have been anything he wanted to be, but he chose basketball and he was one of our nation’s finest.
Paul Douglas Collins is a national treasure. From his early days, Doug brought fame and glory to Benton and the surrounding area. His basketball accomplishments are well known, his exemplary personal life is enviable and his national broadcasts are exceptional. He is the total premium package.
Born in the Miner’s Hospital in Christopher, Doug grew up in Benton with his parents, Paul and Gerry Collins, brother, Jeff and sister, Linda. The family spent a few years living in the Franklin County Jail apartment when Paul Collins was Sheriff of the county. Doug told me that the basketball was his childhood’s best friend.
Doug’s high school basketball career is legionary and earned him the attention of Illinois State University and Will Robinson, the first black head coach in NCAA Division 1 basketball. The Hall of Fame coach told me years later that his success was due, in large part, to the Benton, Ill. graduate. Robinson and Collins are displayed together on a statue on the campus at Illinois State University.
Doug was chosen to represent his country in the 1972 Summer Olympics in Munich, West Germany. Two events are burned in the minds of viewers from those games. Terrorist attacked the barracks and killed 11 Israeli athletes. The moments seemed like hours as the terrorists played-out their killing spree. There was also the controversial gold medal basketball game featuring Doug’s game-winning free throws in the final seconds. But, officials added three seconds to the clock allowing Russia to take home the gold. The U.S. players refused the second place medals leaving them in the Olympic safe.
In 1973, I was a Benton announcer working at a West Frankfort (WFRX) radio station and my colleagues were stunned when Doug was the first overall pick of the NBA draft. Their doubts were soon dispelled when Doug won, not one, but three NBA All-Star honors with the Philadelphia 76ers. He returned as their coach and was the NBA Coach of the Year in 1997. He was inducted in the College Basketball Hall of Fame in 2016.
Recent television viewers are accustom to watching Doug as a color analysis on TNT and other national networks. Several teams have considered Doug for another coaching stent, but on September 19, 2017, the Chicago Bulls announced that he has joined their team as senior advisor of basketball operations.
While Doug has an exemplary professional dossier, his personal life is even more admirable. I do not know Doug to be a “Bible-thumper,” but I have been in his presence when he witnessed to younger athletes. He was a frequent guest in Benton Coach Rich Herrin’s locker room, there to share his faith with fellow athletes. His involvement with John Malkovich with the recent construction of the Events Center is further evidence of his compassion for others. Doug Collins is living a powerful sermon.
My five-year-old daughter, Kimberly was Doug and Kathy’s flower girl in their wedding ceremony in Genesco, Ill., Kathy’s hometown. After the beautiful ceremony, the couple followed Doug’s professional road-map and during the long and exciting trip, had two children. Chris is a former Duke University basketball player and is head basketball coach at Northwestern University. Daughter, Kelly played basketball for Lehigh University and is a school teacher in Pennsylvania. Knowing Doug as I do, he would much prefer I list their sports and personal accomplishments instead of his.
On a personal note, I remember conversations I have had with Doug. All are memorable, but my most prophetic was during the post-season tournament his senior year in high school. I told him, “You will undoubtedly do great things with a basketball but, you will “break-the-bank” sitting with a microphone in front of a TV camera.” I have great joy when I turn on my TV and see him describing the game he loves. He has had a good run, but I suspect the best of Doug Collins is yet to come.
As the Voice of the Benton Rangers, I was fortunate to have the opportunity to call the play-by-play of every one of his high school games. I also traveled to Louisville, KY to describe one of his 1972 Olympic practice games. I became an early believer in his ability and his personage. He could have been anything he wanted to be, but he chose basketball and he was one of our nation’s finest.
Paul Douglas Collins is a national treasure. From his early days, Doug brought fame and glory to Benton and the surrounding area. His basketball accomplishments are well known, his exemplary personal life is enviable and his national broadcasts are exceptional. He is the total premium package.
Born in the Miner’s Hospital in Christopher, Doug grew up in Benton with his parents, Paul and Gerry Collins, brother, Jeff and sister, Linda. The family spent a few years living in the Franklin County Jail apartment when Paul Collins was Sheriff of the county. Doug told me that the basketball was his childhood’s best friend.
Doug’s high school basketball career is legionary and earned him the attention of Illinois State University and Will Robinson, the first black head coach in NCAA Division 1 basketball. The Hall of Fame coach told me years later that his success was due, in large part, to the Benton, Ill. graduate. Robinson and Collins are displayed together on a statue on the campus at Illinois State University.
Doug was chosen to represent his country in the 1972 Summer Olympics in Munich, West Germany. Two events are burned in the minds of viewers from those games. Terrorist attacked the barracks and killed 11 Israeli athletes. The moments seemed like hours as the terrorists played-out their killing spree. There was also the controversial gold medal basketball game featuring Doug’s game-winning free throws in the final seconds. But, officials added three seconds to the clock allowing Russia to take home the gold. The U.S. players refused the second place medals leaving them in the Olympic safe.
In 1973, I was a Benton announcer working at a West Frankfort (WFRX) radio station and my colleagues were stunned when Doug was the first overall pick of the NBA draft. Their doubts were soon dispelled when Doug won, not one, but three NBA All-Star honors with the Philadelphia 76ers. He returned as their coach and was the NBA Coach of the Year in 1997. He was inducted in the College Basketball Hall of Fame in 2016.
Recent television viewers are accustom to watching Doug as a color analysis on TNT and other national networks. Several teams have considered Doug for another coaching stent, but on September 19, 2017, the Chicago Bulls announced that he has joined their team as senior advisor of basketball operations.
While Doug has an exemplary professional dossier, his personal life is even more admirable. I do not know Doug to be a “Bible-thumper,” but I have been in his presence when he witnessed to younger athletes. He was a frequent guest in Benton Coach Rich Herrin’s locker room, there to share his faith with fellow athletes. His involvement with John Malkovich with the recent construction of the Events Center is further evidence of his compassion for others. Doug Collins is living a powerful sermon.
My five-year-old daughter, Kimberly was Doug and Kathy’s flower girl in their wedding ceremony in Genesco, Ill., Kathy’s hometown. After the beautiful ceremony, the couple followed Doug’s professional road-map and during the long and exciting trip, had two children. Chris is a former Duke University basketball player and is head basketball coach at Northwestern University. Daughter, Kelly played basketball for Lehigh University and is a school teacher in Pennsylvania. Knowing Doug as I do, he would much prefer I list their sports and personal accomplishments instead of his.
On a personal note, I remember conversations I have had with Doug. All are memorable, but my most prophetic was during the post-season tournament his senior year in high school. I told him, “You will undoubtedly do great things with a basketball but, you will “break-the-bank” sitting with a microphone in front of a TV camera.” I have great joy when I turn on my TV and see him describing the game he loves. He has had a good run, but I suspect the best of Doug Collins is yet to come.
CAMPBELL'S..."The Home of Fine Furniture."
By: Joe R. Browning
The Campbell lawn was terribly small and took me only a few minute of my time. I needed to make my trip to their home worthwhile, so I develop a new mowing technique. In order to “run-out” the clock, I mowed the grass one direction, and then I re-mow it at an angle. The result made the grass look like an expensive carpet. Other women on Sixth Street were quick to hire me to make their lawns look just like their neighbor. Ruby Campbell paid me my going rate of thirty-five cents an hour to “carpet” her lawn after school each week. Her husband operated a high-end furniture and hardware store in downtown Benton.
Maurice Campbell was a busy man tending to the buying and selling of the area’s finest furniture. He was by every standard a very successful businessman. The couple had two daughters, Jane, and Nancy.
Mrs. Campbell told me that her husband was interested in hiring me for a position at his furniture store. I was impressed because I had always had a job, not a position. What followed was an education in economics. Mr. Campbell had to hire me at the lowest possible wage, and I had to fight for as much as I could get. He had a responsibility to his business, and I had a responsibility to my pocket book. Ruby Campbell whispered to me that her husband had set seventy-five cents an hour as his limit. She advised me to hold out until he reached that amount.
I got excited about the prospective job. I laid awake at night thinking about going to work at the big, fancy furniture store in downtown Benton. Customers traveled hundreds of miles to shop at the “home of fine furnishings.” It was the economic center and the financial motivator for Southern Illinois, but for me it was an indoor job that took me out of Southern Illinois’ heat and humidity. That and the seventy-five cents an hour were the extents of my interest.
Maurice Campbell was a successful businessman, a retired Major in the U.S. Air Force, and one of the top five leaders in the community, he was also a gentleman’s gentleman. He conducted himself chivalrously, gallantly, honorably, politely and, most of all, graciously. He was a stern boss, but he was stern the right way. He knew what he wanted and communicated his desires to his employees, Cecil Mae Paulovich, Frank DeLappe, Jack Laymon Oscar Pederson, Bill Dorris, Vernon Taylor and me. Campbell was a good first boss for a young high freshman.
He and his father, W.E. Campbell had established the first store on the Southeast corner of the public square. It was in the Mid 50s when Campbell constructed the huge building at its present location. It soon became the furniture centerpiece in three states.
It was difficult for me to keep my mouth shut when he ventured out to his back yard for our first round of negotiations. I felt like shouting, “Yes, I will go to work for you for thirty-five cents an hour.” I struggled to find the right words to refuse the first offer, so I mumbled something about my obligation to the women who needed me to keep their yards in good shape or something nonsensical. He “bid adieu” and returned to his furniture store. I feared he would not return.
Campbell repeatedly came to me in his back yard to offer me a dime more an hour to work with him. The routine was another life lesson. Here was a man who bought and sold thousands of dollars’ worth of furniture on a daily basis, and yet he spent time, in increments of ten cents, to hire a stock boy. Keeping track of every penny is a necessity for a successful business.
The irony of the situation is that I would have taken the job for thirty-five cents an hour if I had not known that there was much available. An hourly wage of seventy-five cents may not seem like much today, but in 1952, it was a hell of a lot of money, especially for a high school freshman. My father could purchase a gallon of gasoline for twenty cents, my mother could get a loaf of bread for a dime and a gallon of milk for fifty cents. Campbell’s offer of seventy-five cents an hour was almost an obscene amount for this 13-year old boy. Not only did he put money into my pocket, but he introduced me to the inside mechanics of the corporate world. It was an important time in my work-experience and my life.
Campbell introduced me to work psychology that has paid dividends. My parents and siblings had taught me how to work and to be prompt and consistent with my efforts. I already had the tools to get and maintain a good job. Campbell took me deeper. He said it was my responsibility to determine how much money I felt I was worth, and I should strive to get it. “Don’t be satisfied with less money.” He told me that the best time to negotiate was during the hiring stage. “Once you agree to terms and go to work for a businessman, that businessman’s obligation is to get you for as little as possible.” He said his job was to maintain a healthy bottom line. “Every penny I pay you is a penny from my bottom line.”
Little did Campbell and I know, back in the 50s that my brother, Donald Rex Browning would marry his daughter, Nancy Carolyn Campbell and the couple would become active in the store? After college, Don became an executive at Carter Carburetor in St. Louis, and Campbell convinced him to return to Benton to manage the family’s furniture store. I had enrolled at SIU and was gone from the store when they began dating. The couple eventually became the owners of the store at the building’s current location on the Benton Public Square.
Campbell gave me more than my first real job; he gave me my first full-time opportunity to perform manual labor for money. His advice about life was timely and meaningful. Maybe his most memorable admonition to me was, “I am not paying your hourly wage young man, it is that furniture sitting there that pays for everything.” In one sentence, Maurice Campbell gave me the equivalent of a full college course in the economics of supply and demand.
An excerpt from Joe R. Browning’s “My Jack Book, memories of my life.”
The Campbell lawn was terribly small and took me only a few minute of my time. I needed to make my trip to their home worthwhile, so I develop a new mowing technique. In order to “run-out” the clock, I mowed the grass one direction, and then I re-mow it at an angle. The result made the grass look like an expensive carpet. Other women on Sixth Street were quick to hire me to make their lawns look just like their neighbor. Ruby Campbell paid me my going rate of thirty-five cents an hour to “carpet” her lawn after school each week. Her husband operated a high-end furniture and hardware store in downtown Benton.
Maurice Campbell was a busy man tending to the buying and selling of the area’s finest furniture. He was by every standard a very successful businessman. The couple had two daughters, Jane, and Nancy.
Mrs. Campbell told me that her husband was interested in hiring me for a position at his furniture store. I was impressed because I had always had a job, not a position. What followed was an education in economics. Mr. Campbell had to hire me at the lowest possible wage, and I had to fight for as much as I could get. He had a responsibility to his business, and I had a responsibility to my pocket book. Ruby Campbell whispered to me that her husband had set seventy-five cents an hour as his limit. She advised me to hold out until he reached that amount.
I got excited about the prospective job. I laid awake at night thinking about going to work at the big, fancy furniture store in downtown Benton. Customers traveled hundreds of miles to shop at the “home of fine furnishings.” It was the economic center and the financial motivator for Southern Illinois, but for me it was an indoor job that took me out of Southern Illinois’ heat and humidity. That and the seventy-five cents an hour were the extents of my interest.
Maurice Campbell was a successful businessman, a retired Major in the U.S. Air Force, and one of the top five leaders in the community, he was also a gentleman’s gentleman. He conducted himself chivalrously, gallantly, honorably, politely and, most of all, graciously. He was a stern boss, but he was stern the right way. He knew what he wanted and communicated his desires to his employees, Cecil Mae Paulovich, Frank DeLappe, Jack Laymon Oscar Pederson, Bill Dorris, Vernon Taylor and me. Campbell was a good first boss for a young high freshman.
He and his father, W.E. Campbell had established the first store on the Southeast corner of the public square. It was in the Mid 50s when Campbell constructed the huge building at its present location. It soon became the furniture centerpiece in three states.
It was difficult for me to keep my mouth shut when he ventured out to his back yard for our first round of negotiations. I felt like shouting, “Yes, I will go to work for you for thirty-five cents an hour.” I struggled to find the right words to refuse the first offer, so I mumbled something about my obligation to the women who needed me to keep their yards in good shape or something nonsensical. He “bid adieu” and returned to his furniture store. I feared he would not return.
Campbell repeatedly came to me in his back yard to offer me a dime more an hour to work with him. The routine was another life lesson. Here was a man who bought and sold thousands of dollars’ worth of furniture on a daily basis, and yet he spent time, in increments of ten cents, to hire a stock boy. Keeping track of every penny is a necessity for a successful business.
The irony of the situation is that I would have taken the job for thirty-five cents an hour if I had not known that there was much available. An hourly wage of seventy-five cents may not seem like much today, but in 1952, it was a hell of a lot of money, especially for a high school freshman. My father could purchase a gallon of gasoline for twenty cents, my mother could get a loaf of bread for a dime and a gallon of milk for fifty cents. Campbell’s offer of seventy-five cents an hour was almost an obscene amount for this 13-year old boy. Not only did he put money into my pocket, but he introduced me to the inside mechanics of the corporate world. It was an important time in my work-experience and my life.
Campbell introduced me to work psychology that has paid dividends. My parents and siblings had taught me how to work and to be prompt and consistent with my efforts. I already had the tools to get and maintain a good job. Campbell took me deeper. He said it was my responsibility to determine how much money I felt I was worth, and I should strive to get it. “Don’t be satisfied with less money.” He told me that the best time to negotiate was during the hiring stage. “Once you agree to terms and go to work for a businessman, that businessman’s obligation is to get you for as little as possible.” He said his job was to maintain a healthy bottom line. “Every penny I pay you is a penny from my bottom line.”
Little did Campbell and I know, back in the 50s that my brother, Donald Rex Browning would marry his daughter, Nancy Carolyn Campbell and the couple would become active in the store? After college, Don became an executive at Carter Carburetor in St. Louis, and Campbell convinced him to return to Benton to manage the family’s furniture store. I had enrolled at SIU and was gone from the store when they began dating. The couple eventually became the owners of the store at the building’s current location on the Benton Public Square.
Campbell gave me more than my first real job; he gave me my first full-time opportunity to perform manual labor for money. His advice about life was timely and meaningful. Maybe his most memorable admonition to me was, “I am not paying your hourly wage young man, it is that furniture sitting there that pays for everything.” In one sentence, Maurice Campbell gave me the equivalent of a full college course in the economics of supply and demand.
An excerpt from Joe R. Browning’s “My Jack Book, memories of my life.”
