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Michael L Schmicker's Blog

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Apr.22.2009
Sterling could conveniently cover a half-dozen wars raging in Southeast Asia from his cluttered Bangkok World office on Phra Sumane Rd.   The conflicts were just an overnight train ride or a cheap plane hop from Bangkok – bloody Cambodia and Vietnam on Thailand’s eastern border; the CIA’s secret...
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Apr.21.2009
Cornell was loaded for game when we picked him up the next day. In a small bag, he carried a Nikkormat with a 200 mm telephoto lens to shoot stuff at a safe distance, and a small, palm-sized Petri camera for close up work. We hopped a samlor to Asdang Road and strolled the stalls. We found camo...
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Apr.19.2009
                On Oct. 8, 1970, I got a surprise call at home from a man named Cornell Hawkridge. “This is Cornell Hawkridge,” a blunt voice demanded, without any introduction. “Mr. Seagrave told me to call you.  I need your help.” If Sterling sent him, I was ready to talk. “Well Mr. Hawkridge,...
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Apr.18.2009
I  tried to stay out of trouble. I produced my ETV programs, sang at the Bacchus, and wrote articles for the Bangkok World about air pollution and photography exhibits. But I also spent hours in the AUA library, getting ready for my assignment in Laos after Peace Corps. I got in the habit of...
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Apr.17.2009
My interview came out three days before the photo exhibition opened. Sterling enjoyed the profile, and even purchased one of John’s prints. John gave me a call. The Swiss Ambassador was hosting a posh cocktail reception and preview at the embassy. He could get me in as his guest. “It’s time you...
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Apr.16.2009
I usually wandered down Patpong when we finished our gig at the Bacchus around midnight,  dropping in on other bars and clubs to catch their entertainment. One night, a short, hawk-nosed Swiss traveler sat down next to me at the bar and ordered a beer. His name was John Dornbierer, he was a free-...
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Apr.15.2009
The Peace Corps Thailand Handbook was clear about “outside income.” You were expected to live strictly on what Peace Corps paid you –  $82 a month .  Food, clothing, entertainment, transportation, photography, gifts and souvenirs all had to come out of your $2.75 a day allowance. No money from Mom...
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Apr.14.2009
The first broadcast of “Meet Mr. Maitri” was an embarrassing  comedy of errors. The tiny television studio was crowded with actors, light and microphone crews, Peace Corps Volunteers, Bangkok Municipality staffers, a studio-supplied floor manager and me. The Municipality couldn’t afford to book...
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Apr.13.2009
The Sunday the issue hit the newsstands, I was celebrating at the newspaper when Sterling passed me the phone. Kevin Delany was on the line, and he wasn’t calling to congratulate me. “Come  to the Peace Corps Office right away,”  the voice on the other end of the line said. “We need to have a talk...
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Apr.11.2009
Sterling loved the stories and the photos. I even earned a bonus check. Sterling had spent a year stringing for Time magazine in Paris and sold the French rights to my Luang Prabang piece to the French weekly magazine Minute. We split the $150. I cashed the francs into baht and banked them in my...
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Apr.10.2009
The  Police Commissioner appeared surprised and irritated to find us waiting outside his office. He scrutinized my press credentials carefully before answering my questions. He denied knowledge of any Royal Lao Government plans to evacuate the town. The Pathet Lao regularly mortared the bridge...
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Apr.09.2009
I skipped town the long July Fourth weekend and took the night train to Vientiane to get my Bangkok World story for Sterling. I missed  the traditional lawn party thrown by the American Embassy for expat Americans in Bangkok, but I don’t think Unger missed me. Bill Boudra came along to shoot...
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Apr.07.2009
My overnight train chugged into Chiangmai, the mountain capital of northern Thailand,  at 10 AM the next morning. Hugh was teaching his English classes but I couldn’t risk a hello. I was supposed to be in Bangkok, writing TV scripts. If Peace Corps found out, I could get bounced.  I flagged down a...
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Apr.06.2009
I decided I needed a foreign correspondent’s shirt to go with my new press credentials. So before heading up to Chiangmai, I ducked into a small tailor shop at Saphan Kwai. Nobody bought ready-made, off the rack in Thailand. Everything was custom made.  The shop was  filled with bolts of cloth in...
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Apr.06.2009
The phone jangled and I grabbed it. “Who is it?” I barked. I was in a foul mood. We had just arrived back at the Municipality from a wasted afternoon  film shoot at the Dusit Zoo and  I was ready to chuck the damn Bolex into the wastebasket. An hour to get across town in snarled traffic, a half-...
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