It looks like the people on the beaches had no idea of the destructveness approaching. When you see the tsunami approaching it appears to be a "bubble of water," a slightly larger wave than usual.
One of the frightening things was that this happened in broad daylight with not a cloud in the sky. Absolutely no warning. I would have guessed that the satellites picked it up, but there was no time, and in many cases no communication network in place to send information.
So there you are,on the beach, wondering if your sunscreen is good enough, and who might be that babe in the string bikini when you see a slightly bigger than usual wave approaching. By the time you see the danger it is far too late!
I have wondered also about how the cameras survived. As an ex-photographer I can see in that last picture, the guy was using a telephoto lens. Maybe he was on a building. But even being on a building to there would be the concern that the foundations were being washed away....
"How could one photograph such an event? I couldn't capture the death and do nothing. Screw cameras.
Nam"
Nam,
You touched a point that I had buried. 35 years ago I worked my way though college as a news photographer for an Atlanta society newspaper. I enjoyed the events, meeting people, dinners, debutantes, some footbal and baseball, etc.
I was asked to be a stringer for UPI. My first assignment was a car race at Atlanta International Speedway. The cars were the Indianapolis-type open wheel one seaters.
I was really having fun hanging out in the pits getting my usual human interest pictures. It was a blazing hot day. Clear blue above. Roaring of engines, incredible pit bunnies that break your heart just to look at them giggling with rich old men who were sponsors of the race cars.
I was a good photographer. Award winning. I have always liked people.
The race started. The guy I worked for told me to get to the track, away from the pits. I walked over to what they call "Turn One."
The cars were moving for a rolling start. Brilliant colors. Tension was high. Here was the moment.
But the pack was out of order, so the officials did not gve the "go" command. They were not traveling at high speeds, but were still moving pretty fast. They came around again and the "go" was given. Tension was very high.
As the pack came by me with drivers all jockeying for position, one of the cars in the middle hit another car. Their wheels jumped over one another and there was chaos.
A cigar shaped car flew through the air tumbling toward me. I had my motor drive Nikon zoom camera on him. Wheels flew off when it struck the ground. It burst into flames. I went through a roll of 36 exposures in a few seconds.
Then I ran in closer than I should have and took more pictures with my other Nikon.
The driver was trapped in the burining car. The firemen had not put on their protective clothing because of the heat -- whatever --- they had to out out the fire before they could get him out of the car.
He was engulfed in flames. The car was full of fuel for the race. I saw his arms flailing and heard his screams and cries for help.
I got award-winning pictures. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. There was nothing I could do to help him.
He died right in front of me.
I ran to the UPI tent with three rolls of exposed film. The pictures went out over the wire. Front pages all over the country were being rewritten. My photos of this tragedy and my name were being printed.
For a short time I felt the glow of a job well done. Then it began to sink in. I was a vulture with a camera. How many of the audience was there because they wanted to see a winner? How many were there to see someone crash?
How many were like the crowds in the Roman Coliseum coming to see tragedy and death? When they went home did they talk about the winners or the poor guy burning to death?
I can't fault news photograpers. They are doing their jobs, but I never covered a sports car race again. I went back to society phtogoraphy. Different kind of vultures, I guess.
and went down to watch! 
