He captured decades of Detroit history: 55 photos by Free Press photographer Ira Rosenberg
Rosenberg, who died in 2016 at the age of 99, had a career that spanned nearly 70 years. His striking photography captured decades of Detroit history and pivotal moments.
In honor of him and his dedication to the craft, we've compiled some of our favorite Rosenberg images into the photo gallery above.
Born in New York in 1916, Rosenberg dropped out of school at 16 to be a copy boy for the New York Herald Tribune, where he began to teach himself photography, said his daughter, Andrea Rosenberg Rogoff, at the time of his passing.
More: Iconic images by legendary Free Press photographer Tony Spina capture Michigan history
'He told the story ... and he was fearless in pursuing it,' Rosenberg Rogoff said. She added: 'The camera lived with him.'
Rosenberg joined the Free Press in the mid-1960s. Within a year or two of his arrival, he was part of the team documenting the Detroit riot. That coverage earned the staff a Pulitzer Prize.
'It wasn't about him,' Rosenberg Rogoff said in 2016. 'It wasn't about getting his name on the photograph. … It was about bringing the photograph to the public.'
Rosenberg left the Free Press in the mid-1980s to work for the Dallas Morning News so he could be closer to his family.
The Detroit Free Press contributed to this report.
This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Ira Rosenberg, Free Press photographer, left trove of historic images
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
23-07-2025
- Yahoo
The Promise
Credit - In The Promise, a narrative podcast from Nashville Public Radio, host and reporter Meribah Knight examines Nashville's James A. Cayce Homes, the city's largest and oldest public-housing complex that's about to be razed and overhauled into a more modern space that will bring together young professionals and its preexisting residents. Easier said than done, especially considering the neighborhood's fraught history with violence and the gentrification sprouting around it. Knight, who would go on to be a Pulitzer Prize finalist in 2022, embeds herself within the community, interviewing the longtimers, new arrivals, and authorities as the project comes to fruition. She dedicates a Peabody Award-winning second season to examining how the racial and economic divide within the neighborhood manifests in the classroom, illustrating the deeply rooted tension that exists in so many of America's communities. Contact us at letters@
CBS News
23-07-2025
- CBS News
How a haunting photo of a deadly fire led to changes in Boston's fire escape regulations
Stanley Forman's news photos have gripped Boston for decades. Now 80 years old, Forman still listens to three police scanners in his truck, hustling for the next big photo. But the image he'll always remember is one he took of a fatal 1975 fire. As the fire was racing through an apartment building, Forman saw a firefighter who had just reached a young woman and a 2-year-old girl trapped on a rickety fifth-story fire escape. Then, the unthinkable happened. "And then it went. Just collapsed. For whatever reason, it collapsed. The fire escape collapsed," Forman told CBS News. "They're falling. There's no doubt they're falling, and the fire escape coming down behind them. I realized two people had fallen to the ground." Forman said it left him shaking. "I just watched something awful, awful happen," he said. "I never had doubts about getting the picture, but I just watched something awful happen." Forman said it still gets to him 50 years later. "I watched death in front of me," he said. A firefighter, Robert O'Neill, dangled with one arm clutching the fire engine's ladder and survived. But the fall killed 19-year-old Diana Bryant. Tiare Jones, Bryant's 2-year-old goddaughter, landed on top of Bryant and lived. Forman's haunting photo of the fall, published worldwide, earned him the Pulitzer Prize for Spot News Photography, his first of three Pulitzers. It also woke up the city of Boston. "This is what can happen when fire escapes are neglected and they need to be used during an emergency," Warren Kinder, director of the National Fire Escape Association, told CBS News. He said back in 1975, there were no regulations for inspections. Within months of the fire and Forman's photo being published, Boston changed the city code to require fire escapes to be certified as safe every five years. Kinder said the impact of Forman's photo is "undeniable, and had a ripple effect throughout the country." "This is what can happen when fire escapes are neglected and they need to be used during an emergency," he said. Forman said, "I think it scared people. And it also made them aware. How's my fire escape?"
San Francisco Chronicle
18-07-2025
- San Francisco Chronicle
Award-winning former AP photographer Jo Ann Steck is remembered for her wit and leadership
Award-winning photo journalist Jo Ann Steck — who broke barriers in male-dominated newsrooms by capturing some of the most notable moments in recent United States history — has died. She was 73. Steck died on July 11 after a yearslong battle with ovarian cancer, according to her former Associated Press colleague and longtime friend Dan Hansen. Steck's three-decade career spanning The Associated Press, The New York Times and the White House, took her all over the country and world — and thousands of miles away from where she was born in Hershey, Pennsylvania. She used her shrewd judgment and vision to lead teams of award-winning journalists to capture both profound joy and unspeakable tragedy alike, documenting natural disasters, the 2003 U.S.-led invasion of Iraq, historic sporting events and more. But those who worked with Steck, often calling her 'Jodie,' remember her for her unique ability to lead. Steck worked for local outlets in Arizona, where she went to college at Arizona State University, before joining the AP in Los Angeles in 1980. Amy Sancetta remembers meeting Steck in 1987, when Steck led Sancetta and a small team of journalists to cover a plane crash in Detroit for the AP. Racing to the scene, Steck coordinated the team's efforts with walkie-talkies to swiftly deliver images of the heartbreaking event to the world. Despite the rush, Sancetta said, Steck never forgot to make each person feel valued. 'She saw a lot of really horrific stuff, but she found ways as a group to make us laugh and remind us of our humanity," Sancetta said. From then on, Steck became a mentor to Sancetta, who was still a relatively new employee and one of the very few women in the newsroom. Sancetta said her feelings towards Steck were not unique; Steck's bold humor, clear vision and unmistakable moxie made her a trailblazer for many young women breaking into the male-dominated field. 'As a young photographer, she found a way to make you feel like you belonged,' Sancetta said. 'She paved a path for an awful lot of us." Steck went on to work at The New York Times, The Santa Rosa Press Democrat and The Orange County Register, where she ushered in a new era of digital photography, before returning to the AP. To this day, her colleagues at the AP from that time recall admiringly how well she continued to cover the biggest events across the United States, such as the O.J. Simpson murder case and the Super Bowl. Later, Steck was the deputy director of photography at The Dallas Morning News, where she led a team of photographers who earned a Pulitzer Prize for Breaking News Photography in 2004 for coverage of the invasion in Iraq. Cheryl Diaz Meyer, one of two photographers who took the photos that won the prize, said that Steck was exceptionally methodical and made sure that all photos were presented with nuance. 'You knew that once Jodie touched it, it was good,' Meyer said. Steck's work was recognized far beyond the newsroom. She served as the White House deputy director of photography under former President George W. Bush in his second term, from 2005 to 2009. 'She got to know everybody,' recalled Dan Hansen, a photographer who worked with Steck at both the AP and the White House. Hansen said Steck would remember the names of every single person she met, ranging from interns to White House cleaning staff to high-ranking members of Bush's administration. Hansen, who met Steck when the two were students at Arizona State University in 1976, said that Steck was like that the whole time he knew her. 'She would go into a room, and she would come out with five new friends,' he said. 'Because she was so funny, she was so charming — she just had that ability.' Steck retired in Port Orange, Florida, where she was a competitive pickleball player, according to an obituary provided by her family. She is survived by her partner, Susan Matthews, and her son.
