Features

My Mother the Spy

Brenda Priddy’s gutsy, close-in spy photos make manufacturers cringe, competitors salivate and her children into willing accomplices. George Stradlater talks to Arizona’s newest ace of espionage.

SCI: How do spy photographers even know where to look for prototypes?

Priddy: At times, the cars are simply driving all around. But the very first time I intentionally went out looking for something, I went to the test tracks.

The first shot I got that way was the new Chevrolet Blazer, and then I declared to John, my husband, "This is what I’m going to do for a living." Naturally, he thought I was crazy. But I’d already sold eight or nine spy shots without looking, and then the first day I did go out looking, I was home within two hours with two rolls of film of something important that no one else had seen yet. Of course, I soon found out it’s usually not that easy.

The Kids And now you camp out at these places?

I do. Or I go past the proving grounds and some other places that I’ve learned about. It could be as simple as going past a gas station that certain manufacturers frequent, or restaurants at lunchtime. For some reason, the engineers and drivers seem to really love all-you-can-eat buffets.

By now I have an established route. Also, I rarely go anywhere without going by places I could possibly find test vehicles. And sometimes, you know exactly where you’re going. Just yesterday I got a fax from AutoMedia, which is a European spy group I work with, saying Jaguar is doing hot-weather testing on the new XJS here right now. So I’m going to just start out at their front door. Jaguar has two "secret" locations inside Phoenix.

But if they’re secret, how is it that you know where their front door is?

I have an acquaintance that used to be a test driver for Rover, and Rover and Jaguar are neighbors. He just handed me their address.

How very nice of him....

Yes, wasn’t it? Most of the Rover people that I run into are not as friendly. I’ve actually had some interesting confrontations with Rover; it’s almost like they send their people to anti-terrorist training programs. I went out there one day in a car and they actually spotted me from the roof, sent someone around to my blind spot with a camera and shot a picture of me! I’ve actually never gotten a Rover intentionally; they’re very highly trained. They’ve got scouts that go out first, and they’re really aware of their surroundings. I’ve only been able to stumble across Rovers accidentally.

Usually, manufacturers aren’t that good. Some Honda guys once, who I’d just finished shooting, tried to take my picture. But I had a current Honda brochure with me, so I just held that in front of my face, and all they got was a picture of a ’95 Civic. That was the best they could do.

Now we’ve got to ask, Brenda, isn’t this job kind of dangerous?

Not really...and besides, I’ve been very lucky. My scariest story was shooting the European Ford Mondeo. My daughter, who was maybe five at the time, actually spotted some test cars in a parking lot, and I cruised in and it seemed there was nobody around. So I stopped and started shooting. Well, two guys came out from nowhere--one guy with a newspaper trying to cover the car, which isn’t easy to do, and the other one screaming and yelling at me, telling me I was going to be arrested. I was in a Sunbird convertible, so there was not much protection. Plus my kids were there, and I’m actually a rather timid person.... Anyway, I just snapped the pictures and drove away.

But within another two miles I saw another test group, and I stuck behind a Mondeo again and followed them to a deserted exit on an Indian reservation. Well, like a fool I actually got off after them. Then two different guys, about 6-foot-5, got out, came up to me, started yelling and demanding my drivers license and my film. I told them "no way." Verbally, though, they were really rough; my daughter said "Mom, it’s time to go," and she was right. After I got the film developed, I was so nervous I called my husband before going home and told him to make sure the garage door was open when I got there. I actually hid the negatives under the microwave and stashed a set of pictures in the fridge! Now I’m beyond that--I just talk back to those guys.
I also ran into another Ford engineer from Germany who threatened to rip the camera off my neck. I just told him I was going to call the police and get him deported, real quick. He was just really, really nasty, and I’m pleased to say that I got his picture plastered over just about every German magazine there is.

Do you shoot into the test facilities, or wait for cars to come out?

I actually wait for things to come out. Not too many proving grounds are easy to shoot into; Chrysler is, if they’re on a particular track, but for the most part I wait. Of course, if I happen to have a truck with me, I might use it to get as high up as I can. If I’m next to a 12-, 14-foot fence and just happen to look over, well....

Do you ever get tipped off by the manufacturers that something’s coming?

I believe they occasionally tip other people that have been in the industry longer, but I’ve never been.

Then do you ever feel a car is being intentionally "leaked" to the spies?

Well, the people who are driving or testing the vehicles don’t want them to be seen. But sometimes it becomes obvious that someone higher up in the company doesn’t mind. If you had called Cadillac recently and said, "I’m doing a story on the Catera, and it’s going to be published before the car is released, but I still want photos," they’d have given you my name and phone number! I’ve had people from both coasts tell me that.

Have you got any moles?

No...I wish I did, but nobody’s ever volunteered. I really don’t think I’ve been around long enough, and also they’d be risking a lot. I think the FBI was just onto somebody for doing that at GM. It’s just not worth it.

What kind of equipment do you use?

My favorite of all is a Canon 35-350 zoom, which is wide angle-to-telephoto lens.

But a 350 isn’t very long--you must get pretty close.

Usually I walk right up. That’s one thing that sets me apart; my photos are usually a lot closer than other people’s. I’m kind of a perfectionist, and I don’t give up. I’ll shoot a car when it’s going by at 60, but I’ll also follow it and try to get a closer shot again that day, or the next day, or two days later when it’s parked.

Do you get something every day you go out, or does it take months for one shot?
Oh, I wish I got something every day I went out. It’s seasonal--summertime is much more successful generally, but still, I can go out every day for weeks and weeks and never find a vehicle I can use.

So can you make a living this way?
Not a good one. Not a good one. But you do it for the excitement--the adrenaline rush. You look at Jim Dunne, and he’s at Popular Mechanics, that’s where his income comes from. Interestingly, though, I’ve also been offered...well, let’s call it part-time consulting work for non-automotive companies based on my reputation as a spy photographer--consulting having to do with surveillance and information-gathering for different types of businesses.

And then I’ve sold pictures to major suppliers: Say I shoot a car, and there’s a major supplier involved in its production. Technically, that supplier can’t distribute pictures of the car, because it’s not out yet. But for some reason, it’s okay for them to buy my photos and distribute those, either in press releases, shareholders’ meetings, news conferences, whatever. It’s always interesting to know who’s calling, and to think about why: Sometimes companies call looking for photos of vehicles they had absolutely nothing to do with.

Do you usually work alone?
No. Occasionally I bring my kids, who are my best decoy. Becca is almost ten now, and Zachary is 51 ¼2. But I also have a group of people that have just sort of joined up. Like my road test coordinator, Michael. Last summer I wanted to shoot the Mercedes Coupe; when we found it, Michael got out of our car, went up to the driver and started a conversation with him in fluent German. The poor driver kept saying "Please, tell her to stop taking pictures," but of course Michael wasn’t interpreting that. Michael’s also good for eavesdropping: If we’re after German cars, we can just walk into a restaurant and sit down at the table next to the test engineers and find out what’s going on.

Among other things, he has even been know to camouflage our rental car. He’ll go and buy some electrical tape and do what the manufacturers do--cover up the nameplate, the wheels, you know. One time we were staked out in a parking lot across from a car we’d done up like that, and we watched while two of my competitors from Detroit pulled up in their Tahoe. They sat there for ten minutes trying to figure out what this Corsica was.
Interestingly, most of the people that assist me are married with kids, just like me. Their kids even like to come along, just like mine. It’s funny--we’ll shoot a little bit, then stop for ice cream while we’re waiting for the E-6 processing to be done. Another person who helps me isn’t an automotive enthusiast at all but a game hunter. To him, this work is an extension of his tracking and hunting skills. He’s the most dedicated local person I have--I don’t even know when he’s out spying.

How do your established competitors, like Jim Dunne and Hans Lehmann, view a new rival?
Well, I’ll tell you a story. At one point there was a new European vehicle at GM I was trying to identify, but hadn’t been able to. So one morning I had somebody watching GM, and I got a phone call from him saying "Jim Dunne’s in town." Now, the people who go out and spy for me, I give them Jim Dunne’s picture, Hans Lehmann’s picture, the KGP guys’ pictures, because that way everybody knows what’s going on.

"It’s a positive I.D.," my guy said. I didn’t think that much more about it, but I went there myself later and staked out the area, literally in the bushes. I waited until about five or six o’clock, all dirty, sweaty, covered in some sticky black something or other, and then I gave up to go home. But I made one more pass before leaving, and what do I see coming the other way but Jim Dunne and his rental car. At which point, he stopped and got out to see what kind of tire prints this GM car made.
So I pulled up behind him. He was positive I was GM Security. I said "Are you Jim?" He had this really big, almost aggressive-sounding voice, and he said "Yes." And then it occurred to me: I didn’t know if he’d want to shake my hand or punch me in the face. But I extended my hand anyway and said "I’m Brenda."
And before I even got my whole name out, he just dropped his routine and gave me a great big bear-hug. Right there, he kind of blew his whole reputation.

So this is the job you’ll be doing forever?
You know, it really is. I don’t know where it’s going, but I want to stay in it. And I think I’ll do more in the future. Right now I’ve got other things on my mind with my kids and the ages they are. Unlike Dunne and Lehmann, we have swim team and soccer practice and T-ball, so I can never be too far away. So it’s a little more challenging. But because it’s so challenging, I’m really proud of the stuff I’ve come up with. I really do see myself as a white-haired little old lady carrying this off. It’s fun, it’s exciting. I just love it.

By the way, both my kids carry cameras now, and my 5-year-old son wants to be a spy when he grows up. He likes to keep his camera locked up in his toolbox, so nobody can see he has one. Well, you never know....

Now John, your husband, was the car guy originally?
Yes, and he’s actually my biggest technical resource. John can look at something that’s heavily camouflaged and really pick out the differences and changes. He can figure out what it is. Sometimes I think I’m actually living out his dream--all the people I get to talk to, the places I get to go.

In fact, my first-ever spy picture, which was the first good shot of the ’94 Mustang, I didn’t even take to sell. I just took it to show John--sort of a "look what you missed at work today" thing.
He was also the one who said, "We can sell this," and he was the one who called Kathleen Hamilton, back when she was at Automobile. I was too shy and timid to call; I wasn’t about to call a car magazine, because this was before I knew anything about cars.

And that’s how it all started?
Sort of. That picture actually wound up on the cover, and then after stumbling across some more things and selling those, too, I just decided to make a living out of it.

How do manufacturers try to combat your advances?
Well, it took three days this summer to get the ’96 Honda Civic, because every time I shot it, the driver would give me the finger. Then, sometimes when I’m standing at the side of the road--which, I’ll admit, is a really dumb thing for me to do--they try to scare me by swerving like they’re going to hit me. But actually, when you’re behind the camera and really concentrating, you don’t even comprehend how close they are. Fortunately, so far they have yet to run me over! I’ve also heard of cars being run off the road, and of large rocks getting thrown at other photographers. With me, I think I catch them off-guard enough that by the time they see me shooting--if they see me shooting--it’s too late.

Then there’s the incident when I came across a European test car whose chase car was a Plymouth Acclaim, of all things. When the guy in the chase car spotted me, well.... If looks could kill, I’d be dead now. So he signaled the test car in front, and they took off. We tried to track them for a while off the highway, but they went into a residential area--a 25-mph zone--and they were crashing stop signs, doing stupid things like that.
We just decided it wasn’t worth it--I already had one picture anyway, and we weren’t going to play their silly game. In fact, the one picture turned out to be all I needed; it sold in Europe.
And then there was a guy in front of an orange Lincoln Continental test car, who I swear was ready to unzip his pants. I just kept on shooting: My husband was literally driving in a circle around the car, and I swear this guy reached for his zipper. But then he realized the motor on the camera was just banging away, so instead he broke out into a little dance.

Is there anything you wouldn’t take pictures of?
I don’t think so. But I’m going to stick in the automotive end of the business, because there’s so much going on there.

Any regrets?
Of course. My biggest regret is not bringing home the 2CV Citroen I found for sale while out chasing cars in a little town in Nevada. I had already missed this beautiful Isetta I wanted to buy, so I thought, well, you know....

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