about working for the march of dimes or whatever it was and started working with a photographer, chuck willis. his dark darkroom man was phil moore, the man i had been married to for 30 years. it ended up to be a real witty proposition for me, and that work led to what my first page, if you want to call it that, was for "jet" magazine. i got $5 a week and that's because the bay bridge toll was 25 cents, and that was to cover to getting to san fransisco to cover events. for that, i got a job working for a black weekly newspaper, and that's where i learned a lot. my editor was a former ap reporter who spent 18 years in the far east. he just had a problem with too many drinks and finally after 18 years, ap sent him home and no one would hire him but the owner of a black weekly newspaper, and i was his only staff member, so i learned to do everything, you know, write headlines, pick up the copy, the ads, proof shoots, whatever it took to get this little newspaper published. it was while there when i had one the greatest surprise. i think of it now as a fun event in my life. while working there, o