PM, January 6, 1946, p. 11 (Unidentified Photographer)

“Miss Patricia Van Iver, model from Upper Darby, Pa., poses appropriately after being chosen yesterday as Queen of 1946 by the Press Photographer’s Assn., Inc. The 20-year-old beauty will preside at the cameraman’s 17th annual entertainment and dance at the Waldorf Feb. 1”

Screenshots from

(Wikipedia: “Dolores Donlon (born Patricia Vaniver, September 19, 1926, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania), is an American former model and actress.”)

PM, February 2, 1942, p.9

PM, January 6, 1946

Don Freeman’s Newsstand Takes in Eddie Condon’s New Bandstand
In the groove on opening night – 47 West 3d St. Cast of characters seen below – Brad Gowan on Valve Trombone; Wild Bill Davison, Trumpet; Bud Freeman, Sax; Joe Marsala, Clarinet; Eddie Condon, Guitar; Dave Tough, Drums; And in front of the stand, flashing away with cameras – Gjon Mili, Lisette, and Weegee on the Speed Graphic – a hot time was had by all.
In foreground – Maggie Gowan (Brad’s wife) sitting with friend Eddie Edwards – known as Daddy Edwards of the Original Dixieland Jazz Band, and creator of “Tiger Rag” and other classics.”
PM, January 6, 1946

Great Don Freeman website:


PM, November 10, 1946
“These pictures are from Weegee’s People (Duell, Sloan and Pearce, $4), which will be published on November 11. Weegee says of his new book: ‘Unlike my previous book, Naked City, this is New York in a happier and gayer mood. I went looking for beauty and found it. Here’s my formula – dealing as I do with human beings, and I find them wonderful – I leave them alone and let them be themselves – holding hands with love-light in their eyes – sleeping – or merely walking down the street. The trick is to be where people are.’ Weegee’s next venture will be movie-making.”
(That’s a significant quote… We know when Weegee’s People was published and perhaps the first printed reference to Weegee’s film making and Weegee’s “formula” for making his photographs and the location of a well-known photo is printed…)
“Weegee’s People at Manhattan Avenue and 107th St.” (That’s here on a Google map.) Summer Upper West Side, ca. 1945

PM, November 5, 1946
“Photographer Todd Webb discovered New York when, as a Navy man, he spent leaves here. After the war he came to live and photograph the city. The result was his exhibit “I See a City” at the Museum of the City of New York.
Photo by Yolla Niclas
“Church – Webb did not focus on the city’s cathedrals but on this 125th St. temple.”
“Doorway – This simple, genre shot is typical of the way Todd Webb sees our city.”

PM, August 18, 1946
Inside Washington:
‘Drone’ Flight Bid for Fund’s

“The maiden ocean-crossing from Hawaii of two “drone” Flying Fortresses was the opening salvo of the Army Air Forces’ publicity campaign destined to make the American public “guided missile” conscious.
The Air Forces, which visualize a complete revolution of air warfare in the very near future, will need a real boost from the American taxpayers if Congress is to be persuaded to raise Air Force appropriations during peacetime. The cost of developing missiles and jet propulsion will be large.
A The War Dept. points out that in conflict pilotless planes loaded with bombs have twice the range of ordinary aircraft, as their mission need not be round trip. So far the “mother” ships have had to fly with the “drones,” but the Air Forces say that successful experiments show that it will soon be possible to fly the “drones” as far as radio waves will travel.”

(The more things change, the more they stay the same…)

PM, August 16, 1946

Discovery of The Superkiss

PM Reviews
NOTORIOUS, an RKO-Radio picture at the Music Hall, starring Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant, wit Claude Rains, Madame Kon- stantin, Louis Calhern. Story and screenplay by Ben Hecht, produced and directed by Alfred Hitchcock.

That an Alfred Hitchcock picture strangles you with suspense as if it were slowly pulling a cord around your throat, is not news. That the cord Mr. Hitchcock uses in Notorious is silken, might have been anticipated. His devices for audience enthrallment have grown more opulent as they have become less ingenious. They used to be braided together of unexpected and unusual oddments; of late they have been fashioned of one slick, expensive piece.
But that the old master should now crack out with a love scene to make all previous movie love scenes obsolete, is-to drain the word of all its connotations- a sensation.
Heretofore the tender little was of love have not been Mr. Hitchcock’s forte. This was only because, Notorious reveals, he had not put his mind, or his memory, to it.
Inasmuch as life imitates the movies, look now for a change in the techniques of contemporary pass-making. In olden times the degree of heat used to be measured by the number of minutes clocked off during the kiss-direct. So wide-spread was the belief in this myth that the then Hays office felt itself compelled to limit the number of minutes, in order to avert explosions. Believing themselves ham-pered by this Hays office restriction, scientific movie producers then experimented with variations in position and came to the conclusion that the horizontal was the most inflammatory, at least to their box office returns.
But now, as a result of a scene between Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant in Notorious, the whole belief in the prolonged, horizontal kiss-direct is shown up as so much naive superstition. Simply bypassing these well-established procedures, Mr. Hitchcock proves that a lot of little kisses, properly placed – on and by the right persons, of course – while they’re talking about something else, dinner, for instance – is the true expression of true love. Even while she stands by him as he telephones, Miss Bergman is unable to cease and desist from brushing Mr. Grant with a thousand hungry little caresses. Since each one is as light and swift as a butterfly, that old Hays office knows what it can do. This is it; this is the way it is; or, as we said earlier, since life imitates the movies, this is the way it’s going to be.
The rest of the picture, tautening its silken cord in skillfull, imperceptibly quickening tempo, has to do with our own FBI out- smarting some first rate, very suave, Nazi rascals in Rio, ring-led by Claude Rains and Mme. Konstantin, who plays his mother. Mr. Grant is one of the FBI agents, Miss Bergman another. Since for a spell it’s necessary for Miss Bergman to be married to Mr. Rains, in order to discover what he’s up to – actually he’s only up to collecting the raw materials for atomic bombs – you can imagine how Mr. Grant suffers. You will have to imagine it. Mr. Grant would be the last to reveal it, if he could.