Two weeks of living in the hotel had given them enough time to shop for the new clothing that would allow them to blend in with local fashion. Taza would still eschew shirts with collars and thought bow ties were silly bits of cloth. No matter the clothing, Taza still wore his bear claw necklace in place of a tie.
The streets of Los Angeles were less crowded than those of New York, but there were still more people bustling about than Taza had seen in his whole life. Even in his new suit the young Apache was an object of curiosity, but then there were other, darker faces on the street.
Chinatown seemed to fascinate Taza, especially after he remembered Indigo had spoken so graciously about these people. But even as they wandered the streets filled with Asian faces Darby was filled with curiosity and wished Indigo could be there to guide them.
They were quite presentable in their new clothes when Alex led them into the Bank of California on the corner of Spring Street and Third, asking for the manager. Alex assured Darby this would be the easiest way to cut through the bureaucracy of minor officials and get right down to business.
Alex presented his business card to the secretary sitting at her desk in the vast hall of the bank and within minutes they were ushered into the office of the president of the bank.
“Mr. Morgan, how gracious of you to visit our establishment,” The man said, rushing from behind his desk and offering his hand.
“Mr. McAdams, so nice to meet you,” Alex said. “But perhaps I have overplayed my hand on behalf of my good friend Darby O’Brien here. He really just needs your manager.”
McAdams shifted his attention to Darby and then his eyes lingered on Taza.
“Your friends…?”
“Yes. I’m not here on business for J.P. Morgan but to introduce you to one of your own clients, and that would be Mr. O’Brien. He’s here with Mr. Nathan Verde…all the way from Tombstone in Arizona Territory.”
The name O’Brien and Tombstone seemed to enlighten McAdams.
“Oh my goodness…yes. Mr. O’Brien, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Let me call Mr. Warren in here.” And he pushed a button on his desk.
The secretary appeared at the door and McAdams told her to find Warren.
“I suppose I should take my leave,” Alex said. “Darby, I’ll wait for you out in the automobile and then we’ll go have lunch with Sarah.”
“If you like,” Darby replied.
Alex left just as Warren appeared and McAdams introduced Darby and then Taza. They all took seats at an elaborately carved table in one corner of the room.
“I must ask…is Mr. Verde an Indian?” McAdams said.
“Apache,” Taza said. “I speak English.”
“How delightful…I’ve never met one of the native people. What brings you to our city, Mr. Verde?”
“I ride on train with Darby,” Taza said. “I will make film with Sarah.”
Darby laughed at the puzzled looks on McAdams’ and Warren’s faces.
“Gentlemen, I am sorry for your confusion. As you may guess Los Angeles is a little overwhelming for Mr. Verde. I’m from New York City and we are enjoying your climate very much. It is in fact this lovely weather that brings Alex…Mr. Morgan, and his company here. They are going to make films and that will be quite an investment in your local economy.
“Taza…Mr. Verde, and I have been assisting Mr. Morgan. The name Sarah Lynn may not mean anything to you now but she will soon have a starring role in this first film. Taza’s expertise in horsemanship and native lore is invaluable to this first effort.”
Having said all that Darby removed the wallet from his coat pocket and produced the letter of credit from the Tombstone Bank.
“This will introduce me to your bank and establish my identity towards assuming ownership of the accounts in the name of Sean O’Brien.”
McAdams looked at the letter of credit and nodded before passing it to Warren.
“We heard of your uncle’s passing and I offer our most sincere condolences to you and your family,” McAdams said. “I did receive a telegram from Mr. Cummings in Tombstone. Nothing vital, just a courtesy to let me know you would be coming for a visit. And now that we have established who you are…what can this bank do for you?”
“A lot I believe, we shall be making some investments very soon.”
“We? Is Mr. Verde involved?”
“He certainly is, and so are all his people.”
“How wonderful,” McAdams said.
The people at the bank had been most gracious, but William Selig was quite a character Darby decided when they first met. He seemed dedicated to his craft and had some grandiose ideas about how he wanted to pursue the creation of films. A robust figure, he wore these colorful bow ties even when he rolled up his sleeves to work.
Billy had taken a house in the Edendale section of town, a grand old sprawling residence in which his wife, Mary, ruled the roost. Selig had met her on one of his expeditions to California in years past and she seemed quite used to his excessive lifestyle.
There on the outskirts of the small town Selig had purchased fifty acres of land with horse barns and a pasture for animals. By the time Darby and Taza arrived the grand plans for a studio had begun to take shape. But even as carpenters and masons set to work constructing a huge building for the studio Billy was impatient to begin filming.
It only seemed practical that everyone live in Billy’s house until other arrangements could be made. Sarah, Alex, Darby and Taza moved in and Mary seemed to delight in their company. There were servants, a large dining room and a room where Billy did his planning, although for most of the day the man spent his time combing the hills for the scenery he wanted in his film.
Darby and Taza had been in town long enough to see most of the city and visit the ocean. Sarah had thrown together a picnic for that first trip to the beach, and like most people who lived inland they all gaped at the crashing waves on first sight.
For Taza it was a mystical experience coming from such a dry and waterless land only to see a vast spread of water like he had never imagined. Of course he had to touch it and taste it before Darby could warn him. Taza spit the brine back in the sand and Darby tried not to laugh.
“The water is spoiled,” Taza declared. “I do not understand. Water like this could not give life.”
“I’m afraid you’re wrong about that,” Darby said. “The ocean is filled with millions of fish and huge creatures.”
“How is this possible?”
Darby shrugged. “Some life just adapted to the salt and there are those who believe that all life originally came from the ocean Perhaps I should read Moby Dick to you.”
Taza shook his head. “The legends speak of great waters covering the land but nothing about salt. It is very big and beautiful…thank you for bringing me here.”
Darby had mentioned to the bankers that Taza was involved in working on this film, but so far all he had done was work with the horses. These were not fancy breeds of foreign descent but well-bred quarter horses and several Appaloosas, a breed quite familiar to the native Indian population.
Billy’s war room, as he liked to call the space where the film was planned, consisted of tables and chairs accompanied by several large chalk boards. The staff for the film now had several secretaries who wrote down every word Billy uttered, and from this came their plot.
The scene would open with cattle grazing and men on horseback tending to the herd. Sarah’s role was that of the rancher’s daughter who flirted with the men and had a severe crush on one of them, a character named Rusty.
The story line involved this budding romance and of course the attack on the ranch by a dastardly bunch of Mexican bandits. The real events that occurred in the attack by the Perez gang on Taza’s village were altered to fit the needs of the film. Darby was to discover that true facts were always altered to fit the director’s desires.
But the Apache element was there with characters that included someone like Chappo, a Chief, and his son who would be played by Taza. Billy laid out images of the natives co-existing side by side with the white man. The rancher’s daughter would be shown as a person involved with the tribe, although where they would come up with a bunch of Indians on such short notice Darby couldn’t figure out.
But Taza seemed amused that it became his role to teach the characters how to ride. Except for Sarah and the leading man character, many of the others cast in the film were not horsemen. Alex had suggested they give Taza a job since he knew that would keep Darby close at hand.
Dusty, a most handsome cowboy was played by a fit young man named Dusty Hayes, although Darby figured that was not his real name. Billy had seen the man in a Texas rodeo and was impressed with his riding and roping skills, knowing those attributes would look good on film.
Hayes was about the same age as Sarah, and unfortunately spent considerable time flirting with her right under Alex’s nose. It was bound to cause tension, but Sarah had both men well under control. Fortunately Billy was a good task master and kept them busy and out of one another’s path.
The cast had only six leading players and several dozen extras. One by one Darby saw the minor roles appear in Billy’s parlor to be examined and measured for their costumes. It was there he met Saul Leibowitz and his son Marty…their newly cast Apache Indians.
Alex introduced them to Taza who shook hands graciously, and then asked: “What tribe are you from?”
With a nod and a wink Saul gave him an answer. “We’re from a very ancient tribe called the Israelites who live far to the east.”
“Ah, the ancestors of my people are also very old,” Taza said.
“Mazel tov,” Saul replied.
“Yes, you gentlemen should compare stories, I think you have a lot in common,” Alex said. “But shall we return to our business? Your costumes are of vital importance…”
Billy had hired a seamstress to create the costumes and the poor lady had been sent halfway across the state to find the accoutrements necessary for each outfit. But when she produced a large feather headdress for the Apache Chief to wear Taza shook his head and appealed to Billy.
“This is wrong for chief in my tribe. This is Lakota not Apache.”
“But it looks so good,” Billy said.
“Then you should wear this,” Taza said. “You are chief here.”
Billy took that to heart and on various occasions he could be seen wearing the tall feathered headdress to parties. Taza was now their expert in all things Indian so he had the hairdresser braid a long haired wig to cover Saul’s natural hair and then he tied feathers on the tresses. A simple red headband for Marty’s shoulder length wig was augmented with face and body paint which Taza applied for them. Billy had to agree, it looked perfect.
Saul was dressed in buckskin and beads, and they were depending upon the natural wrinkles on his face to show his immense age and wisdom. Instead of a headband Taza created a cap for the top of his head with three feathers in it. To Darby it was like bringing Chappo back to life when Taza hung several ropes of silver beads around the man’s neck.
The Indians had been the hard part to costume, the cowboys were the easiest with various hats, shirts and six-guns. Hayes tied a blue bandana around his neck and wore a pair of tooled cowboy boots that Billy said were hand made for the part. To Darby it seemed like Billy was pampering the man, but then he didn’t know what kind of arrangement they had.
To obtain the contingent of Mexicans they needed to play the part of bandits Billy sent Alex down to Tijuana across the border. The Mexican consulate in Los Angeles had arranged for Alex to meet several of the ranchers in that area. This would give him a larger choice of Mexican vaqueros, the local working cowboys, from which he could select the best riders. Billy had finally chosen a four hundred acre site in the San Fernando Valley near the Los Angeles River and near a small town named Burbank. Dr. David Burbank had bought the property some fifty years before and established a ranch where he raised sheep. But like many of the ranchers he sold his property to land developers who then started the town and named it after him.
The development company was only too happy to lease Billy a large section of their land along the northern waterway known as the Glendale Narrows. Slightly rolling hills covered in trees, mostly scrub oaks and assorted undergrowth, would provide the background, while closer to the water there was grazing land for the necessary cattle.
Darby watched all these things come together and was amazed at the amount of work it took to produce a film, and so he judged it must also cost a good deal of money. Alex had told him that the company had financial backers but that the initial costs were coming out of Billy’s pocket. How could you fault a director who was paying for his own film?
By the end of the month Alex had his studio lab set up and running, and this is when Fritz arrived from New York State. Fritz Hartmann was a rotund and jolly fellow who spoke with a heavy German accent, but he immediately moved into the lab and took over the operations.
With him had come thousands of dollars’ worth of film stock that was carefully packaged and stored in the cold room Alex had caused to be constructed. It was explained to Darby that enough film for a day’s operations would be carried to the filming site and then immediately returned to the warehouse for processing.
Fritz unloaded cases of bottled developer and several odd looking machines. Alex took Darby on a tour and tried to explain what they had and how the darkroom would work.
“We may expose several hundred yards of film each day,” Alex said. “The camera is loaded and unloaded in a blackout device that allows no light inside to spoil the exposed film. It will be returned here to the darkroom where it is processed in a chemical bath.
“In a matter of days we will have a mile of film to look at, and not all of it will be used. That machine is for editing and in it we cut the film in pieces and splice it all back together into a workable sequence. This is also where we will add the slates which present the dialogue or narration.”
“I wondered about that,” Darby said. “I saw a film with piano music being played in the theater but the characters words were written across the screen.”
“Well I’m sure you’ve seen a Victrola, probably one invented by that tyrant Edison. But Billy and I have talked about showing films and playing a phonograph disc instead of the live music. His concern is that the theater will not synchronize them properly.”
“Couldn’t you put the voices of the actors on the phonograph?” Darby asked.
That only made Alex smile. “A man after my own heart, that’s exactly where I hope this is all going. The development of film is slowly moving ahead while the ability to make sound recordings is lagging behind. But just look at this film, there could be no way to record the voices of people in an outdoor setting like we have. “But it will happen maybe in five or ten years because the quality of films will increase and the demand of the audiences will force improvements. As I told you on the train when we first met I want to be in on the ground floor and I have pinned my hopes on Billy and his company.”
The company was the Selig Polyscope Company, something Billy had formed in Chicago while developing his film skills. But everything they were doing now was new. The camera, the film, and even the scope of filming outdoors were going to make this a winning venture.
Two days before they planned to begin the filming Billy called them all together in the parlor. There was a white bed sheet tacked up on one wall and a table in front of it held what Darby would learn was a projection device.
“I have something to show you,” Billy said. “I venture to say that our film will be one of the longest presentations attempted to date. But having said that, we are not alone in producing something with a western theme. Competition is good, especially when we will make something better than the last film audiences have seen.
“What I am going to show you is a short film produced by Ed Porter. Until recently he was working for the Edison Company, but I won’t hold that against him. What you will see is a production that contains clever camera shots, good editing, and some solid photographic techniques…well, almost.
“At this point in time short films are presented as a part of the vaudeville stage, an oddity that is beginning to engage audiences coast to coast. But this film is much too short to be anything but a demonstration of what could be possible in the future. We are that possibility and the film we are going to make will stand alone in theaters.”
The drapes were closed and the room became dim as Fritz turned on the projector. For many of them this was the first moving picture they had ever seen. But even for Darby it was far different than the penny arcade films he’d seen in New York.
It opened with a printed card that revealed the name of the film and the producer, The Edison Company. There were several dozen different action scenes presented one right after the other in which a train was robbed, people shot, and it all ran on and on until the bandits were chased and killed by a posse.
The ending was predictable, but that was not what Darby noticed most. The camera never moved…the whole thing was filmed from a fixed position. To effect movement the action of people and objects moved into the eye of the camera from left or right and performed whatever function they were directed to produce. It was all of twelve minutes long and then the words The End appeared.
Fritz turned off the projector while Alex opened the drapes. Billy stood before the bed sheet and gazed around the room.
“The Great Train Robbery has a plot…and that’s about all I can say for it. From a director’s standpoint…well, that’s all it is. Porter set the camera in one place and orchestrated the performance as if he were filming a play upon the stage.
“We are going to have a moving camera that will be right in the middle of the action so that the audience will feel like they are a part of the scene. How are we going to do this? Well, Alex and I have a few ideas.”
After the meeting Darby learned they did have a few ideas, but most of them had not been tested. Alex bemoaned the reality that film was just too damned expensive to waste and a lot of what they had used so far was in developing the camera.
“Sure I can make the camera swivel on a tripod and follow the action, but that has limitations. In the beginning Edison’s camera was hand cranked by the operator which prohibited movement, and then they developed the spring wound device. But even then the director hesitated to move the camera unless it was to move it to another fixed position.”
“But Fritz still uses the spring?” Darby asked.
“Yes, at least for the film to advance and for the shutter. The lens is still manually operated and so when we swivel the camera the scene goes out of focus which is easy to do outside.”
“But if the camera stays the same distance from the object you are filming won’t it stay in focus?”
“Yes, Darby, it will…but how do I move the camera without jostling the image all over the place?” Alex looked defeated because he knew that Selig was going to make demands that he could not meet.
“Could you mount it on a wagon? No, that would be too bumpy,” Darby said, answering his own question.
“You see my dilemma,” Alex said. “We don’t need to move fast, just completely smoothly.”
“How fast?”
“Oh, maybe a fast walking pace…as if you were following a horse down the street. The issue is that I cannot see thru the lens as the film is exposed. Once a scene starts the measurements for the focal length will have been taken, we can plot out the distances on paper and maintain the proper spacing, but…”
“What about a second lens…one you can look through?” Darby asked. “I don’t know the property of these things…”
“No, but you have a good idea. If I mount a second lens on top of the camera…let me talk to Fritz about this.”
The issue of moving the camera still remained and Darby felt less than qualified to solve that problem. But Sunday came and Darby decided to take Taza downtown to the Westminster Hotel for lunch. Taza liked the restaurant there and could order what he liked without the aid of a menu.
They had been in Los Angeles for over a month by now, although much of Taza’s time had been spent working with horses and the actors. He was no longer intimidated by all these strangers on the streets and enjoyed riding on the streetcars. Darby just wondered when the boy would feel the need to go home.
Even after all these many months away from New York, Darby still missed his family. Taza didn’t seem as connected that way although he occasionally made mention of something that his mother would like to see. The Apache village seemed remote and perhaps it was the argument with his father that was still foremost in his mind.
“What are you thinking?” Taza asked. “Your soup grows cold on the table.”
Darby smiled and looked up at Taza’s attentive face. “I was thinking about us and the life we lead. I could not have explained these feelings until I met you.”
Taza nodded. “At first I thought of Sean and how I must be like him, but that is no longer true. I will never marry and then change, those feelings would be false. I could not explain this to my father…he would cast me out of the village.”
“So you chose to leave?”
“No, I chose you, and that is a truth close to my heart,” Taza said, and then he smiled. “We will go back to my village when there is time, but I will not be a boy to my father’s wishes.”
“Can we leave all this behind?” Darby asked. “I thought you had become involved here and wanted to stay.”
“I like this very much…it would be a good place to call home. But you have ties to my people and this money. We will go back for a short time to finish that business and then decide our future.”
Taza was right about finishing the land acquisition for the Apache. Once that was done there was nothing to keep them in Arizona. Taza had evolved beyond his simple Indian roots and was embracing the world around him. But a lot of that had to do with Alex and the others making sure Taza felt welcome.
Selig Polyscope was a business, and as such they had divided up the responsibilities of the personnel involved in the film. Darby had been named as Alex’s assistant while Taza was on the rolls as an animal trainer and native affairs consultant. Fancy titles, but it meant at some point they would receive credit and perhaps get paid.
Darby had scoffed when Alex suggested they would receive a small share of the profits should the film make any money. But the secretary had produced a contract which Darby signed, and then handed one to Taza. In his labored handwriting it was only the second time Nathan T. Verde put his name to paper.
“You know we don’t need the money, Alex….this seems silly,” Darby said.
“For now, perhaps it is. But for the future it is the right thing to do. Selig Polyscope may not last forever since this is a tenuous business arrangement at best, but it will make us all famous. Mark my words, this film industry is going to become huge and we are the ones who are going to make it happen.”
Huge sounded overly ambitious to Darby, but he was involved in the small details not the larger scope of operations. How they could move a camera was on his mind for days, and those were in dwindling supply. Selig planned to begin filming in just a few short weeks.
But with little fanfare Taza had his birthday dinner surrounded by his friends in the company. They were only a year apart in age but Darby had never felt that made any difference between them. No, they had love and that made them equals.
And in the days after the birthday party Darby finally came up with a solution for moving the camera. It all began with a streetcar ride and a rolled up newspaper, and then he had to show Alex what might be possible.
The tracks on Fremont Street ran right up the middle, but since the roadway was crowded the car’s speed was limited. Darby rolled up the newspaper and handed it to Alex.
“Set one end on the window sill and look down the tube as the car starts moving,” Darby said.
Alex followed those instructions and gazed at the passing storefronts as the car began to move. He followed a man on a bicycle and that image appeared to float alongside as he immediately grasped what Darby had discovered.
“The car is a steady platform by virtue of its weight. At low speed I can stay focused on an object as the background travels past…this is so simple,” Alex said.
“We can’t use an actual streetcar…”
“No, but we can put down tracks and use a heavy cart on wheels…this is brilliant.”
Railroad tracks were heavy and cumbersome so they quickly abandoned that idea. Darby visited a lumber mill on the outskirts of Burbank and saw oak planking being formed. Dense heavy wood seemed like a good substitute for steel rails. Alex instructed the carpenters to construct wooden rails in twelve foot long sections with a precise three foot span between the rails. They were light enough that four men could carry each section.
The camera cart would weigh two hundred pounds until they piled on lead weights once it was on the rails. With large handles on both sides the cart took four men to move, but it was just what Alex needed. It was already early November and Billy was ready to go.
The technical details fascinated Darby so it was there he focused his energies. In doing so he discovered that Alex had not one but two cameras, and for a very practical reason. Never far from the camera’s position was where the crew erected a tent made of black material, light proof as Alex explained it. It was inside the tent where cameras were loaded and unloaded of their film reels.
The first day of filming arrived and a caravan of vehicles and wagons set off for the chosen site. Taza led a string of horses for the six mile journey towards the river where cattle grazed and the ranch building had been installed. Darby rode in the wagon train with the camera equipment and various supplies, including the three dozen sections of camera track.
The site out by the Glendale Narrows looked like a tent city. Since Billy was determined to make the entire film in four or five days, the easiest way to accomplish that was to have everyone living at the site. Darby had seen the rough scene breakdown Billy would follow and realized it had nothing to do with the story line.
“It is all based upon moving the camera,” Alex explained. “When the film is assembled back in the studio lab Billy can order the scenes any way he wants. Don’t worry…he’s done all this before.”
Darby was not worried one bit. How could he worry about something he didn’t completely understand? This gathering of people looked like a small army and each person had a job to do in assuring the success of the film. It was certainly going to be quite an experience.