The Prophetic Camera

Joey knew the old man had somehow faked his pictures; after all, nobody could photograph the future. But then the future began to happen!
Joey Barrett set his camera carefully to one side and swung onto the edge of the desk. He knew this annoyed Nugent, and, at the moment, nothing gave him greater satisfaction than his ability to irritate the editor.
His heels thunked against the highly polished sides of the desk, and he shook his head very deliberately, in rhythm with the heel-hammering.
No, he said. I don't think so, Nugent. He decided the drumming had lost its impact, so, he crossed his legs and turned to face the balding man behind the desk. Why should I? This assignment's out of my line and you know it.
Nugent nodded. I know. But this is an unusual story, Joey, and I'd like to get a photographer's slant on it.
Want to find out how the other half thinks, huh?
Nugent referred to a memo. This is the address. He pushed the slip of paper toward Joey. I think you'll find this Jason Ewing most cooperative.
He's a crackpot. Joey shied away from the memo and slid off the desk. That's why none of your brainy reporters will touch the assignment.
He's eccentric. Nugent didn't bother to hide his impatience. What inventor isn't?
He's an inventor?
New kind of camera. That's where you come in, Joey. Nugent leaned back in his swivel chair. I want a photographer's reactions to it.
What's so special about his camera?