In an era dominated by digital advancements, photographers, both veterans and novices, face a critical dilemma: the reliance on technology versus the essence of traditional photography skills. It challenges the core principles and techniques that define the art of photography. 

Coming to you from Craig Roberts of e6 Vlogs, this excellent video discusses the art of photography in a highly advanced digital age. The video begins with a nostalgic journey, where Roberts recounts starting photography with a manual film camera, the Pentax P30. This model was unique for its time, offering both manual and full program modes, allowing beginners to ease into the complex world of photography without being overwhelmed. His experience with the P30 serves as a metaphor for the broader shift in photography. As he progressed, he quickly moved to manual mode, finding that the hands-on experience demystified the technical aspects of photography. This narrative underscores an important lesson for photographers: there is immense value in engaging directly with the mechanics of photography, beyond the convenience of automated modes.

A critical point raised in the video is the question of whether modern cameras, with their myriad automated features, are diluting the essential skills of photography. The comparison to driving an automatic car versus a manual one parallels this concern in photography. Just as automatic cars simplify driving at the cost of certain driving skills, digital cameras, with features like autofocus, auto ISO, and sophisticated metering systems, might be making photographers overly dependent on technology. The video suggests that this reliance could be eroding the fundamental skills and artistry that define photography.

The call to action is clear: photographers should consider revisiting the roots of their craft. By engaging more with manual settings and understanding the intricacies of their equipment, photographers can rekindle their connection with the art form. The video encourages viewers to watch and reflect on their own practices, asking whether they have become too reliant on technology and what that means for the future of their artistry. Check out the video above for the full rundown from Roberts. 

KENNETT SQUARE, Pa. (CBS) — A picture is worth a thousand words, and sometimes a few hundred shares too.

Phoenixville couple Joey Chowanec and Kristin Beshada went viral after a photographer snapped some pictures of their engagement, unknown to them, and then used the power of social media to get in touch with them.

Here’s what happened: last month, Chowanec popped the question to Beshada, his longtime girlfriend, at one of their favorite spots: Longwood Gardens.

“I had a whole speech in my head, froze up. I didn’t say anything that I planned on saying,” Joey said. “And I just stood there for a couple of seconds. And then I was like, I should just get down on one knee.”

Joey’s mom manned the iPhone camera – capturing the moment.  

But the couple would soon learn someone else also snapped some photos of the moment – that would go viral.

That someone was Laura Reiger, a photographer based in Leesport, Pennsylvania.

She was at Longwood Gardens taking senior portraits in the same spot.

“As i turned around, he was on one knee proposing to her. Like, oh, so cute. I couldn’t resist, so I hopped behind the moms and just snapped a photo.”

Reiger says she wasn’t able to connect with the couple at Longwood and share these pictures.

So she turned to social media later that day, posting the photos on Facebook and asking “does anyone know this couple?”

And within 30 minutes, she found an answer.

“One of my friends from nursing school, she actually tagged me in something…so I clicked on that. and I was just like, oh my goodness,” Beshada said.

The couple has been together a little over two years after meeting on Hinge.

The couple says friends in different Facebook groups saw the post and reached out too.

“I was super excited. I was just like, this is the best. what are the chances that someone you know, snapped such beautiful pictures of us?” Beshada said.

Some would call this story the power of social media.

“Everybody knows somebody who knows you, we’re all a lot more connected than I guess we think we are,” Reiger said.

Whatever you call it, pure joy is what Reiger’s lens captured of the soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Chowanec.

The couple says they’ll treasure the photos for a lifetime.

“It was really neat just to be part of someone else’s story and let them have those memories from me,” Reiger said.

“It’s obviously a very special moment to us. So for us to have those, I mean, we couldn’t be more thankful,” Chowanec said.

Nikki DeMentri

Nikki DeMentri is a general assignment reporter with CBS Philadelphia. The Central New Jersey native is thrilled she is sharing the stories of where she grew up.

A viral photograph on Reddit claimed to show one of the first photographs taken at Chernobyl after the explosion of the nuclear reactor in Ukraine on April 26, 1986.

The post claimed it was shot 14 hours afterward.

The above photograph was indeed among the first taken just after the disaster occurred. Based on a number of accounts, it was also not the only shot of the site taken on April 26. Igor Kostin, as described by numerous news accounts, shot the picture in question, and by his own retelling was among the first photographers at the scene hours after the disaster.

A flawed nuclear reactor systems test at Chernobyl resulted in massive amounts of radioactive material being released into the environment. As we reported before, the incident, which occurred when Ukraine was part of the Soviet Union, had wide-ranging effects that lasted for decades in regions that included Belarus, the Russian Federation, and Ukraine. Effects included rising thyroid cancer cases among children and psycho-social impacts, including higher rates of depression, alcoholism and anxiety.

The Guardian shared Kostin’s photograph in an online series of images taken in the disaster’s aftermath. The story stated photographers arrived on April 27, 1986, and credited Kostin with the image in question:

The first photo to be taken of the reactor, at 4pm, 14 hours after the explosion. This was taken from the first helicopter to fly over the disaster zone to evaluate radiation levels. The view is foggy due to radiation, which also explains why the shot was not taken too close to the window. Later, radiation experts learnt that at 200 metres above the reactor, levels reached 1500 rems [referring to a unit of radiation dosage], despite the fact that their counters did not exceed 500 rems.

The Guardian date, however, contradicts the dates published in The Associated Press and in Kostin’s own book, which noted that photographers arrived on April 26. The first explosion took place at 1:23 a.m. on April 26. Kostin described getting woken up with a call about the incident on April 26, and leaving his house to take a 45-minute helicopter ride to the site just as the sun was rising.

An Associated Press caption for a different photograph of the reactor taken from an aerial angle by Volodymyr Repik — one of the three photographers at the scene in the helicopter in the immediate aftermath — was also reportedly taken on April 26, 1986, the same day as the explosion. We do not know if this was shot before or after Kostin’s photograph:

Only three Tass [Russian news agency] photographers were allowed in — Volodymyr Repik, Igor Kostin and Valery Zufarov. Two later died of radiation-related illnesses and Kostin suffered from the effects for decades before dying in a car accident in 2015. The Chernobyl nuclear power plant explosion was only about 60 miles from photographer Efrem Lukatsky’s home, but he didn’t learn about it until the next morning from a neighbor. Only a few photographers were allowed to cover the destroyed reactor and desperate cleanup efforts, and all of them paid for it with their health.

Kostin detailed the experience in his book “Chernobyl: Confessions of a Reporter.” He wrote that he was a photographer for Novosti agency not Tass (though they were both state-owned). All of his photographs from that day were damaged with the exception of the above image:                     

I opened the window, mechanically, as I always do, in order to avoid reflections. I got my camera ready and took a photograph. A big puff of hot air filled the cabin of the helicopter. At once, I wanted to scrape the bottom of my throat. It was a new and strange feeling. I swallowed my saliva with difficulty. Probably the toxic smoke of the fire. I stopped myself from coughing and pointed my lens towards the ground. I made my first shots, about twenty of them. Suddenly, my camera locked. I forced the release button, but nothing. The mechanism had the flu. I was furious. I jammed it fiercely for a few seconds, in vain. The pilot flew one more time over the plant. Unable to take more photos, we flew back without even touching down. All that trouble for only twenty photographs! In Kiev, while developing it, the film was covered with an opaque surface. Almost all the photographs are entirely black, as if the camera had been opened in full light and the film exposed. I did not understand it then, but it was due to the radioactivity. Marie Curie had been confronted by the same experience when she isolated radium. The radiation makes an impression on the film or the photographic plates. Only the first photographs seemed less damaged. Undoubtedly they had been protected by the roll casing. Struggling with the film, I ended up obtaining an acceptable photograph that I sent to Moscow, to the Novosti agency main office. It was not published. But by then I already knew that I was going to return to Chernobyl to take photographs.

The photograph in question can be found on page 6 of the book, which is available on The Internet Archive. The caption stated: “This is the only photo in the world taken the same day as the accident.”

Yet another photographer was present that day, according to other reports. A 2006 BBC story shared an account by Anatoly Rasskazov, who was a staff photographer at the plant and who was reportedly allowed in on the day of the explosion. Rasskazov described how he shot photographs from the air and on the ground:

There were rumours of a minor accident at the station, but I cleaned the windows of our flat in Pripyat as usual. Then at about 9am I was summoned urgently to the station.

No-one believed that something so awful could occur.

I went down into the bunker where the authorities were working, and I understood that they did not really know whether the active zone of the reactor was destroyed or not. They wanted pictures taken from above to see what had really happened.

In the helicopter, there were two soldiers and two civilians from Atomenergo, who had flown down from Moscow. There was so much ash flying around, it was impossible to take photographs through the glass. I said, “Comrades, we have to open the window.” They protested, saying it would contaminate the helicopter. They knew what it was, the material rising up from the reactor.

But the window was opened. I leaned out with my camera, a wide-format Kiev-6, and a soldier held my legs to stop me falling. Then I doubled up with a Zenit.

He went on to describe how he took a number of pictures from the ground by driving around in a fire engine and drove up close to the ruins of one of the reactors. However, when he tried to develop his photographs, he faced a similar challenge to Kostin’s:

I develop the first film, from the Zenit, and it is black, completely burnt out by radiation – probably from the graphite block. I think, “That’s it. It’s all over.” But the second film, from the other camera was successful, only slightly clouded. When I got to the station the First Department [security] took the prints, numbered them and took the films. “Everything you saw and heard – keep your mouth locked!” they said. From the photographs it was clear that the active zone was badly damaged. Until May, no-one else was allowed to take pictures.

Rasskazov suffered serious health complications in the decades after his time photographing the ruins at Chernobyl. His photographs were eventually published in a book, but he said that he was never credited with them. The photographs can be seen in the BBC article here. Per the Chernobyl Museum website (via Google Translate), we learned he photographed the destroyed power unit around 3 p.m. on April 26.

Anna Korolevska, who was a deputy director for the Chernobyl Museum in Kyiv, Ukraine, told NBC News in 2011 that Rasskazov made a video of the destroyed reactor and submitted it to a special commission working in a bunker close to the plant, and that the Soviet secret police seized his photographs submitted later. Only two of his photographs were published in 1987, without crediting him, according to NBC News.

We reached out to the Chernobyl Museum in Kyiv for more information about Kostin and Rasskazov. We will update this post accordingly.

In short, while Kostin took one of the first photographs of the Chernobyl disaster, other professionals also shot photographs on the day of the incident.

Here’s a kitten in a baby carriage and bonnet, photographed in 1930 by Alton Blackington. What an adorable photo—and what a great sport the cat was.

If I tried to put a bonnet on my cat, I would not walk away unscathed.

I’d like to be this level of tucked-in when I go to bed every night, please.