Ollie Noonan Jr.War Photographer
War photographer tried to see beyond destruction
Ollie Noonan Jr. sought adventure but he was aware of the risks of journalistic duty during Vietnam War
War photographer Ollie Noonan Jr., lower left, is buried on Campobello Island. These images are from a book entitled The Eyes of the Globe — 25 Years of Photography from the Boston Globe.
Vietnam veteran Paul Critchlow's 32nd floor
office in New York City's Merrill Lynch building overlooks Ground
Zero directly.
Today, recollections of 9/11 are heaped upon memories of combat
he saw in the late 1960s, after a broken leg took him out of the
University of Nebraska's Cornhuskers backfield, where he was a
starting fullback, and led him voluntarily into the United States
Army, where he found refuge from a period he now says was marked
by "too much partying."
Every year as Remembrance Day rolls around, Critchlow has lots to
think about.
One person he thinks about on this day, and on days like today,
is Ollie Noonan Jr., who rests in Welshpool Cemetery on
Campobello Island, surrounded by the tides of the Bay of Fundy, a
million light-years away from Manhattan.
Critchlow never met Noonan, a dashing young Associated Press
photographer, but he's felt connected to him ever since their
paths crossed at a battle that left Noonan dead at just 29 years
of age, and Critchlow badly wounded. It was Aug. 19, 1969, in the
Que Son Valley, where many of the bloodiest battles of 1969 took
place.
Recounting his experience from a cellphone as he travels between
Washington State's San Juan Islands, Critchlow, a forward
observer trained at the elite Pathfinders school, recalls the
radio transmission he heard that afternoon as his company showed
up to reinforce an embattled American company.
It had been surrounded by a division of the North Vietnamese Army
(NVA), which inexplicably, even today, granted uncontested safe
passage to the severely weakened company.
"It was eerie because we expected to be hit, and it stayed
quiet until mid-afternoon, when I heard on my radio that a
helicopter was coming out with the battalion commander on it, and
an Associated Press photographer, whose name I did not know, and
was not said," explains Critchlow, with a strain in his
voice.
"A photojournalist was coming out to take photos of the
battle site, so I thought that was kind of interesting,"
adds Critchlow, pausing to reflect, "then I heard an RPG
round fired, and that's what broke the stillness, then I heard
the crack of the round hitting the helicopter, and probably 10,
15 seconds later I heard the crash."
Critchlow was intrigued that a civilian would put his life on the
line to do his job well, but at the time, as "all hell broke
loose," he had other things on his mind as both sides
engaged in a heated battle to reach the helicopter first.
Later that night, Critchlow manned a strobe light to direct an
Air Force AC-139 Spectre gunship, nicknamed Spooky, which was
circling overhead and laying down a "wall of lead" that
gave the badly outnumbered American companies a fighting chance.
Then, Critchlow saw the menacing outline of an NVA soldier's pith
helmet out of the corner of his eye, but it was too late.
The round he shot hit the ground in front of Critchlow, spraying
his arms, legs, chest, and head, knocking him unconscious. The
fight to reach the helicopter went on for days.
As Critchlow was recovering in medical camps, he read about
Noonan in Stars & Stripes, an Army newspaper.
"It gave me the idea that any civilian who would risk his
life for his job, must have a very interesting job," said
Critchlow, who would eventually complete a master's degree at
Columbia University that would lead him to prolific career as a
journalist before becoming head of communications at the
brokerage giant Merrill Lynch.
"And of course I had curiosity about him. And I had always
heard about war photographers ... so I always thought about Ollie
Noonan."
If Critchlow had never met Noonan - he had in fact never met a
single war photographer, as Charlie company spent most of its
time in "actively hot battle zones" - the young man who
grew up in Norwell, Mass., and spent his summers on his mother
Loreen's native Campobello Island never left those he did meet
indifferent.
While other kids played with toys, Noonan followed his father,
Ollie Noonan Sr., along on assignments as he worked for the
Boston Herald, before eventually becoming his loving rival as a
wildly popular photographer for the Boston Globe.
"My brother was so well loved, that when he was home sick at
his apartment, the governor's wife brought him supper," says
his sister Lori Noonan.
Outside of Boston, the world was beginning to take notice of
Noonan as well, as one of his photographs made the cover of Time
Magazine only a short time before his helicopter was shot down.
Noonan's adventurous streak landed him in the middle of the
action on a daily basis, whether he was photographing the
Beatles' first visit to the Boston, or covering Dr. Martin Luther
King and civil rights marches in the southern United States.
With a laugh, Lori, who like her sister Sandy now lives on
Campobello Island, recalls Noonan having been almost ripped limb
from limb by teenaged girls as he left the Beatles' dressing
room.
But soon Noonan's quest for adventure would land him in Vietnam,
although he never planned on becoming a war photographer.
Lori explains that Noonan had bought an around-the-world ticket
and had planned on just stopping by initially, but that changed
when the Associated Press caught wind he was there, and
recognizing his work offered him a position shooting the war.
Still, Lori remembers expressing her anxiety over the trip.
"When I was living in California at the time, he came up to
visit me, and I asked him 'why are you going over there?'. And he
said it's the most photographed war in history, I have to be
there."
But Lori adds that the rangy, rock & roll-loving,
convertible-driving young man's penchant for adventure couldn't
be mistaken for foolishness, as he understood what he was getting
into.
"The ones we feel bad for are the ones who were forced to go
over there, Ollie wasn't forced to go there," she said,
noting that asthma prevented him from enlisting.
"One of the things he said was that he didn't want to live a
life of mediocrity."
The late Ollie Noonan Sr. put it in his own words as he
overlooked the Bay of Fundy from Campobello Island: "Ollie
went to Vietnam to learn the truth."
The Associated Press's bureau chief from 1973 to 1975, George
Esper, called Noonan "one of the best," and his
colleague Bob Dean tagged him as "one the first
photojournalists in the strictest sense of the term."
Two-time Pulitzer Prize-winner Horst Faas, who felt deep
responsibility for having sent Noonan out on what became his last
assignment, was one of the first on the scene to identify the
body when the fighting subsided.
He, and well-known colleague Peter Arnett, who would become known
for his work with CNN and AP, spent the next Thanksgiving Weekend
on Campobello Island, where Noonan had brought friends back from
Boston on many occasions, dealing with the loss with Noonan's
parents.
Faas told Critchlow that the photos found in Noonan's camera,
which was thrown from the helicopter, did not show combat action,
as he had not made it to this particular battle.
Instead, once developed, the film revealed "more pastoral
photos of water buffalo at dusk, and things like that."
"Noonan was a bit of an artist, a poetic-type person. He was
interested in the whole scope of the experience of war, not just
the traumatic parts; the beautiful parts of the societies
involved," said Critchlow.
On top of writing stories and taking photos for AP, Noonan wrote
poetry to relay his experience on a more personal level.
Lori Noonan says it is hard to imagine that such a "big
strapping guy" had such tender feelings, but it was his
gentle, yet tough nature that allowed him to find poetry in the
chaos of war.
"It affected everybody over there, but he was able to put it
down in words."
Though he was disillusioned by the amount of violence he
witnessed, Noonan maintained in letters home that he was where he
wanted to be, stating that Vietnam was a dream for a
newspaperman. His friends in the special forces even made a habit
of bringing him along on missions.
Some of Noonan's courage may also have came out of his fiery
temper, his friends claiming he would "go to the ends of the
earth to get someone who crossed him."
"His philosophy was he never walked away from a fight unless
he won it," said Lori Noonan.
Ollie Noonan Jr. never would walk away from Vietnam, his life
taken days before a scheduled rest and relaxation tour to Korea.
But in his wake he would leave the friends and family he loved,
his girlfriend Andrea, and his photographs, which showed the
world the harsh realities of war, and the people whose lives it
affected.
They serve as testaments to battles that fade as memories become
slippery and harder to grasp.
"Noonan's willingness to die while covering a story
fascinated me. He risked, and gave, his life because he believed
in the truth of his images and what they would tell people at
home about the war. He became a hero to me," wrote Paul
Critchlow, in American Heritage Magazine, more than 30 years
after his path crossed Noonan's for a fleeting moment, not unlike
those Ollie had made a life out of capturing on film.
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Boston Globe, The (MA) - June 24, 1988 Deceased Name: OLLIE NOONAN SR., 77 AWARD-WINNING PHOTOGRAPHER Ollie Noonan, an award-winning photographer for three Boston newspapers, died Wednesday at a hospital in Saint John's, New Brunswick. He was 77 and lived on Campobello Island, New Brunswick.
Mr. Noonan worked for the Globe, the Herald-Traveler and the Record- American from 1940 to the mid-1960s, when he turned his energies to an aerial photography business. .
He was born in Boston and lived most of his life in Norwell. His photographs displayed a deep compassion and sensitivity.
Mr. Noonan photographed presidents from Franklin Roosevelt to Kennedy and other leaders, including Winston Churchill. His dramatic photo of a minister who dropped dead on a podium appeared in Life magazine.
He won awards for photos such as one of "Scamp," a puppy whose legs were in casts after being broken by an abuser. The photo, distributed worldwide by the Associated Press, provoked response throughout the world.
Noonan covered the Charlestown (Cherry Hill) prison riot in 1954 and the sinking of the Andrea Doria in 1956.
Mr. Noonan taught his son, Ollie Jr., the craft he so dearly loved and they worked on competing dailies.
Both Noonans once found themselves outside a Cambridge courthouse when a witness in a criminal case tried to climb out of a window.
"When she started putting one leg out, I fired. Then, startled, she jumped back in," Ollie Sr. said. "I got the only picture because I fired early."
Ollie Jr. was killed in August 1969 while covering the Vietnam War. Ollie Sr. later moved from their Norwell home to a house overlooking the Bay of Fundy at Campobello Island.
His wife, Lorene, whom he met on a blind date in Boston, brought him flowers in the hospital on June 10, their 50th wedding anniversary.
In addition to his wife, he leaves two daughters, Judith Parker and Lorene Austin, both of Quincy.
Services will be private.
Please view another obituary found under obituaries
Boston Globe, The (MA) - June 24, 1988 Deceased Name: OLLIE NOONAN SR., 77 AWARD-WINNING PHOTOGRAPHER Ollie Noonan, an award-winning photographer for three Boston newspapers, died Wednesday at a hospital in Saint John's, New Brunswick. He was 77 and lived on Campobello Island, New Brunswick.
Mr. Noonan worked for the Globe, the Herald-Traveler and the Record- American from 1940 to the mid-1960s, when he turned his energies to an aerial photography business. .
He was born in Boston and lived most of his life in Norwell. His photographs displayed a deep compassion and sensitivity.
Mr. Noonan photographed presidents from Franklin Roosevelt to Kennedy and other leaders, including Winston Churchill. His dramatic photo of a minister who dropped dead on a podium appeared in Life magazine.
He won awards for photos such as one of "Scamp," a puppy whose legs were in casts after being broken by an abuser. The photo, distributed worldwide by the Associated Press, provoked response throughout the world.
Noonan covered the Charlestown (Cherry Hill) prison riot in 1954 and the sinking of the Andrea Doria in 1956.
Mr. Noonan taught his son, Ollie Jr., the craft he so dearly loved and they worked on competing dailies.
Both Noonans once found themselves outside a Cambridge courthouse when a witness in a criminal case tried to climb out of a window.
"When she started putting one leg out, I fired. Then, startled, she jumped back in," Ollie Sr. said. "I got the only picture because I fired early."
Ollie Jr. was killed in August 1969 while covering the Vietnam War. Ollie Sr. later moved from their Norwell home to a house overlooking the Bay of Fundy at Campobello Island.
His wife, Lorene, whom he met on a blind date in Boston, brought him flowers in the hospital on June 10, their 50th wedding anniversary.
In addition to his wife, he leaves two daughters, Judith Parker and Lorene Austin, both of Quincy.
Services will be private.