Places I Want to Visit

Mr. Hugh McColl on Conquering the Banking World

“You have two minutes,” ordered the art director, “only two minutes with the President so you better be ready.” In the early 1980s, annual reports were highly coveted projects for photographers. No expense was spared, projects usually involved travel to far flung locations to photograph their newest technology , people and products.

I was on the executive floor of North Carolina National Bank, in the President’s office, waiting for Mr. Hugh McColl. By then, my assistant and I had set up the lights, shot numerous Polaroids, taped down the cables, and loaded the film backs for the Mamiya RB67 camera. We might use two backs, 20 exposures if we were lucky, we loaded eight backs.

We were used to being on location, in shorts and t-shirts, shooting bikini models on the beach. A few four letter words might be slung about as our bravado got ahead of ego. That day, we would be like choir boys, perfectly dressed, equipment organized, operating in synchrony the moment the President stepped in front of the cameras. The art director told me he wanted to project an image of friendly confidence, of a man with a vision. Screw up these two minutes and you might not be invited back for next year’s annual report.

“He’ll be here in a few minutes,” whispered Mr. McColl’s assistant. McColl is a Marine who appreciated precision and strategy. We checked the lights again, aligned the film backs carefully, checked focus, the tightness of the lens ring, cleaned the viewfinder once again.

The door opened and the President walked confidently in the room. He took care to close the door behind him, a map on the back of the door with lots of red push-pins. He walked in like a man who’d been briefed. “Hello Mr. McColl,” I said in my most professional, friendly yet firm voice. “Please stand over here, and we’ll have you out of here in a few minutes.”

“Thank you sir, we got the shot, lots of them,” I said to Mr McColl as I walked him to the door. I couldn’t help but ask, “What do the red pins mean?” “Oh those,” he replied nonchalantly, “those are places I want to visit.”

Years later, as North Carolina National Bank continued its coast-to-coast buying spree, setting up what is today Bank of America, I realized the Marine-hardened bank President had just shown me his battle plan. He also sent me a thank you note.