Came the dawn : memories of a film pioneer (1951)

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left. The lens was stopped down to its very smallest and had, in addition, a deep red glass screen covering its hood. Although there was only a little crescent of the sun showing when operations began it would have been fatally over-exposed without these precautions. Then when the instant of totality arrived I whipped off the red screen and at the same time opened the lens aperture to the full extent, reversing the operations directly totality was over and the sun's rim began to re-appear. By good luck, everything happened according to plan and I secured an excellent picture of the beautiful corona with enough of the before-and-after to give it point. Naturally I seized the opportunities to take street scenes and so on in Algiers and Tangier where the ship also called, and some pleasant views of life aboard the Argonaut. These last have very particular significance for me, and that was in this wise. A young and bony Scot named John McGuffie had been elected as a sort of games master for the cruise — a task which evoked my horrified admiration. But he had no shyness and he did the job well. He did not try to drag me into the games, for he was a master of tact, but to my surprise and glee he singled me out for particular friendship. In the sequel I invited him to Walton to share in the joy of my newly purchased motor-car and he responded by taking me to his home in Chapel-en-le-Frith in Derbyshire, where I met his delightful family, including his sister, who afterwards became my wife. I want to treat this matter at a little greater length than might seem to befit a film story, for this gracious lady not only had a profound influence on my life but she also had a very considerable influence on the films I was making. She was one of the four perfect women who have come into my existence. I don't want to appear sentimental but it has often seemed to me as if some power occasionally put angels in the form of women on this earth to leaven the ordinary lump of humanity. All of these four women, except one, married quite unworthy men, and that one was she who married my father's favourite brother — a replica of him in many ways. During the happy summer of 1901 when I was visiting A. D. Thomas in Manchester on business and the McGuffie family at Chapel-en-le-Frith on pleasure, I invited brother-in-law-to-be John to come to Walton, drive in my crazy 'car' to Southampton, 49