Capturing the trifecta

On Sunday, at the start of election week, I waited in a neighborhood park in South Philadelphia, standing on the edge of a small Astroturfed mound watching as kids climbed playground equipment, parents talked with each other, while others read the newspaper, drank coffee, or walked their dogs.

The scene, as I waited for Gov. Josh Shapiro’s campaign bus to arrive, was right out of a Norman Rockwell painting, and it got me thinking of the freedoms and responsibilities that come with living in a democracy.

I felt a sense of pride and appreciation recalling all of the elections I have covered. Everything from a suburban school board contest to a caucus in rural Iowa, to the Philippines, where a rigged vote led to a non-violent “People Power” revolution that toppled a 20-year dictatorship.

I was in high school when three-quarters of the states ratified the 26th Amendment lowering the voting age. Thankfully, the war in Vietnam and the draft that inspired the change — “Old enough to fight, old enough to vote” — were over by the time I turned 18.

I’ve voted in every election since. And photographing the process over the years has been truly inspiring and remains a powerful, emotional, and satisfying experience.

On the eve of the election this week, I met 81-year-old Diane Hudson Harris at an event for Bucks County congressional candidate Bob Harvie.

Of course her attire stood out in his small campaign headquarters, so I had to ask her about it. She saw first lady Jill Biden wear the dress “years ago” and wanted to buy one. The $800 designer price tag was too steep for her, but she found one on Etsy for $40. She wears it every chance she gets.

When I learned I would be covering Gov. Shapiro on Tuesday night I starting reaching out his communications staff, asking for an opportunity to photograph the candidate early in the evening, before he went out into the hotel ballroom to make his likely victory speech (he had a double-digit lead over his Republican challenger, State Treasurer Stacy Garrity in the polls). I said it was because newspaper deadlines are so early these days, which is true. But really it was about access.

In photojournalism, access is something that supersedes almost everything. You have to get it. Having the latest model camera, the best eye, or most honed compositional instincts don’t matter if you’re not there to make a picture in the first place.

While covering politics I often think of David Hume Kennerly or Pete Souza, who made some the most compelling photographs of recent presidencies. Not just because they are talented, but they are skilled in gaining trust and having the ability to get close enough to be in position where meaningful pictures could happen.

I just wanted to make something that was different from pictures taken from the riser in the back of the room. I asked for an opportunity to photograph the candidate behind-the-scenes, even if it was only as he arrived through a side door at the hotel.

Earlier in the week I got a “we’re thinking about it.” I enlisted our government reporter to lobby on my behalf, then I texted one last time, while stopped at a service plaza on the PA Turnpike as I drove to Harrisburg. It was just crickets until I was about to leave my hotel room and a reply came. “Unfortunately…”

Going with the flow when arriving at the victory party hotel, I left my laptop and second camera body in the media area, by the back-of-the-room riser and worked the crowd of supporters.

The AP called the race for the Governor at 8:01 p.m. right after the polls closed, and around 8:30 p.m. Lt. Gov. Austin Davis came on stage.

I thought he was just warming up the crowd and as he gave his speech, I made a few photos, practicing my angles, while looking for the best spot on the floor to stand when the main event — his running mate’s appearance — happened later.

But then, just as Davis was wrapping up, he started to introduce the Governor.

I made a few frames as Shapiro joined him onstage. Then as Davis walked off and the victory speech began, I started my trek through the ballroom, wading through a sea of supporters squeezed shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, getting that look “are you kidding me” from each face I passed.

Grabbing my other body and 70-200mm lens, I made it safely back to the front and, as his speech was almost 20 minutes long, I didn’t miss much. From experience I knew that the best podium pictures always come at the very beginning and at the end of the talking.

The finish was less dramatic than most election night parties I’ve covered. No balloons or confetti when Davis returned to the stage, along with both men’s family’s.

As Shapiro walked off to Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down,” I was near the very front in the crowd, so I had great access (that word!) when he started to work the rope line of supporters.

There were hands and arms and cellphones reaching our in front of me so I switched between using auto and zone focusing, watching the Governors face. It was blocked a lot, but all the elements finally lined up.

After I checked my camera’s rear LCD, I headed back to the media area — again passing through the throng — to my laptop to edit and start sending my photos to the newspaper.

Then, just as I was about to caption my first two photos, a staffer appears, grabs me and says, “let’s go.”

I pull my card out of the computer and stick it back in my camera as we pass through the curtain next to the stage. I’m excited thinking, “What do you know, it’s happening.”

I anticipate that quieter moment as family and friends who have shared his journey gather to regroup and take in all that has just happened. And I’m there.

Nope. The curtain pass-through was just a shortcut to the end of rope line that I had already photographed. At the beginning. With worse lighting and just the Governor’s back.

But it did produce one good, unexpected image. In the crowd was U.S. Rep. Dwight Evans, who is retiring after serving Philadelphia for two decades in what has been called the most partisan — regardless of party — congressional district in the country.

The next morning as the blue wave washed over races in South Carolina, Georgia, and Texas and, well, the rest of the country, and everyone reacted, Pennsylvania Democrats gathered on the State Capital steps to celebrate their newly gained control of the state Senate, House, and governor’s mansion for the first time since 1993 — a trifecta that marks a monumental victory for the party. There was a lot of hugging.

They didn’t expect the state Senate to be competitive for at least another six years.

This election is now also a pivotal triumph for Gov. Shapiro, who is widely seen as a potential 2028 presidential contender.

So he also celebrated, after wagering his reputation and popularity on flipping the state’s government blue by holding a postelection news conference with legislative leaders outside his residence on Thursday.

It was a good opportunity to make file photos of the officials our reporters will be writing about often in the coming year.

Remember when I mentioned that transition time is when the best photos get made? Well, forgetting my own advice, I had decided to record file video as long as I was waiting for the event to wrap up.

That’s when House Democratic Leader Matt Bradford stepped up to microphone for his turn and the Governor made a joke at the expense of his longtime Montgomery County friend’s hair-lacking scalp in the hot sun.

“Can somebody get Bradford a hat?” Shapiro said, as I suddenly stopped recording, put down my iPhone and picked up my camera — totally missing the Governor pulling the hoodie over his head.

You win some, and you lose some, I told myself. But I was consoled knowing that for this day’s story, a picture of two exuberant Dems worked better than a bald joke.

Since 1998 a black-and-white photo has appeared every Monday in staff photographer Tom Gralish’s “Scene Through the Lens” photo column in the print editions of The Inquirer’s local news section. Here are the most recent, in color: