It wasn’t a road as such, more a grass-choked two-track splitting off the cobbled dead-end street to rise onto what appeared to be a narrow levee separating the town from the railroad tracks. Beyond it an old unused grain elevator jutting into the view. “I wonder if it’ll take us there,” … More Downtown anytown
I didn’t want to go out into the cold and ice and snow and so fretted over it with altogether too much energy. It was the last night of 2012 and I was tired. My wife had been working crazy long hours so we’d barely seen each other for several weeks, and … More The last picture, in three parts
How we appear to ourselves is rarely how others perceive us. This is doubly so when trying to infiltrate any form of gathering of “locals,” a weasely term that at once distances the bulk of attendees from a smaller fraction of those relegated to outsider status. Freelance writers and reporters are familiar … More Another form of witness
The process was as slow as it was detailed: select an image in Lightroom, transfer it to Photoshop, increase the canvas size one inch on each side, type the name of the person in the lower margin followed by the name or nature of his or her business, center the type, … More When you’ll know when
Before the opening last week of the new low-slung concrete bridge spanning the banks of the Big Blue River, residents worried that the old bridge would fall apart before its replacement could be built. Closing it was unthinkable—a detour would require a minimum of 45 miles one way on dirt and gravel … More The bridge over the River Blue
The following two articles are about the depopulation of the Great Plains as envisioned by two very wise people from Back East. While in some circles that might be enough to brand them as “outsiders” or “meddlers,” their words are true. To deny them is to deny reality. Lori and I had the pleasure of … More The only thing that’s changed is everything…
My friend asked, have you ever photographed a cattle auction, and I said, no. Would you like to, she asked. Her offer sounded so—innocent, so devoid of ulterior motive. My suspicions were immediately aroused. I asked for more details. This would be their first homeground auction, combined with two other families. It was a Big … More How we do it here
To Leanne Merrill, it sounded like firecrackers. She was watching television when she heard the pops, at first indistinct but recognizable in that way where the brain processes information without completely making all the connections. Firecrackers, and much earlier in June than expected, she thought. A peek out the window revealed nothing but an empty … More Small town siege
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