eyes open
An albino peacock shows his feathers on a recent morning at the Black Hills Wild Horse Sanctuary south of Hot Springs, S.D. The peacock was shuttering his feathers in a dominant gesture, trying to dissuade the other male peacocks from approaching the few females in the group.
Each morning during the Black Hills mountain lion hunting season, Tim Goodwin awakes before dawn. He steps into fleece camouflage coveralls and grabs an Army National Guard backpack. Chuck, a chocolate labrador, wants to join, but he must stay behind to roam the property where Goodwin’s log cabin sits on a creek near Sheridan Lake west of Rapid City.
It happens quickly here. Temperatures rise and then plummet overnight but we figure out how to survive. It makes sense why Native tribes gave much respect to animals, as they are born with every resource they need to survive. Naked humans need an animal’s fur to keep warm.
While walking down the streets of Deadwood, S.D., I noticed Randy Christensen, left, and Mark Anderson hollering at pedestrians that walked by. Dressed in historical garb, they’re what you’d expect to see when rolling into the midwest gold rush town in the 1800s.
Anthony “Crazy Face” Sines of Long Island, N.Y., shows off his entire face tattoo on Main Street during the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. He also has the whites of his eyes tattooed red. He couldn’t see for a week afterward, he said.
Antione Ellis, 13, left, and Morgen Garrett, 13, on their way home after swimming in the Belle Fourche river. The seventh graders enjoy living in Belle Fourche because they can skateboard and play school sports, keeping them busy most days.
While driving around Belle Fourche, a small town known for its Americana, I spotted these two. They had just finished swimming in the river and were wandering without a destination. Their appearance and style reminds me of my youth. I drove past them, pulled a u-turn and asked if they’d sit for a portrait. I also made a frame with my iPhone and texted it to them so they could walk away feeling rewarded as well.
South Dakota needs moisture, badly. So nature blessed us with more than 20 inches of flaky white this week. Here’s how some people dealt with the blizzard. Above, Ruben Clifford braves the wind and snow while walking to a Loaf ‘N Jug gas station on Haines avenue in Rapid City after finishing some plow work.
It’s not easy being homeless. I learned this first-hand while reporting a story on local homeless people and a controversy surrounded the Cornerstone Rescue Mission. To gain the trust of my subjects, I slept outside, in the dirt, next to trash and a stones-throw away from railroad tracks. It was 12 degrees. Which really isn’t that bad considering they sleep outside when temperatures dive below zero. I woke up with them at 4:30 a.m. We walked in a snow storm to a fast food restaurant to find warmth and shelter. I followed these guys throughout their daily routines more than once. Most days are the same. People often thought I was homeless as well, offering me free coffee and food. There’s a different look people give you when they think you sleep on the streets.
One of the reasons I decided to move to Rapid City, SD, is the proximity to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. Pine Ridge is home to the Oglala Sioux tribe and the Lakota people. There’s lots of stigma surrounding the reservation and natives in general. I wasn’t sure how to break into the community. Some folks told me that walking around with a camera is a bad idea. Others said to avoid the reservation altogether. I decided to listen to no one but my heart and see for myself. I quickly met a wonderful family on my first trip. Upon returning with some prints in hand, they warmed up even more. This is no doubt the beginning of a very long project. This family is just one element of the broader story I intend to tell. Stay tuned.
This is one of those moments that unfolds before you and you’re thankful that there’s a camera in hand. Thank you, photo gods.
We recently reported on a fundraiser for a local food share program hosted by drag queens at a The Pyramid Club. People paid to see the ladies lip sync and give attention to people in the crowd who toss them donations in one dollar denominations. When technical difficulties delayed the show’s start, a man in his 70’s wearing a baseball cap signifying his participation in the Korean War, banged on his front-row table and yelled “you’ll never play Coos Bay again!”
I rode along with an Oregon State Police trooper yesterday. She invited me to see how the troopers are educating drivers about the “move over” law. The law states that a motorist must move over to the center lane or slow down at least 5 mph before passing an emergency vehicle that has its emergency lights on while on the shoulder. This law is for the safety of both motorists and emergency personnel, she said, as people and troopers have been hit by oncoming cars while parked on the shoulder. Watch the video and heed the rule of law!
I lectured recently to a photojournalism class at the University of Oregon. We talked about the importance of multimedia, the “real world” of working at a small paper, how to start on long-term projects, etc. On the drive home I passed this fellow. If something makes me look twice while driving, it’s worth pulling over. So I did. This is Christian. He’s reading Catch 22 by Joseph Heller while waiting for a tow truck. His left differential caught fire while driving home from work
I was really bummed a couple of years ago when I thought that I’d lost this frame somewhere in the mix of backing up my archive. While doing some archive maintenance recently, I found it! I must’ve out-smarted myself. This is Elijah Mack, the subject of a river surfing story I started in college and subsequently published by Sierra Magazine. We took this portrait on a trip to Maupin, Ore., to camp and river surf in 2008. River surfing was born in downtown Munich, Germany in the 1970’s. Elijah enjoys driving thousands of miles to find waves on remote rivers despite living 40 minutes from the Pacific Ocean.
A few weeks ago I went out with a search and rescue team looking for a 60-year-old-man missing in the sand dunes. He was last heard from Feb. 2 when he told family that he was going to the beach. Four days later a sheriff deputy found his abandoned car near an over-look close to trails leading to the beach, which traverse miles of sand dunes. That many cold nights without food or insulin doesn’t produce favorable odds of survival.
Lukas Wiliker is 5 years old and fighting neuroblastoma cancer, the most common childhood cancer. He doesn’t quite know how serious it is, he just knows he’s sick and goes to treatments for whatever is infecting him. Doctor’s say he has two years to live, at most. His mother, Emily Knight, is in her 20’s and recently moved back in with her mother after quitting her job to take care of Lukas. A reporter suggested I photograph Lukas and Emily when they come into the office for an interview. I decided catching them at home the day before the interview would be better. It was such short notice, I only had an hour with them. Hopefully I’ll get to revisit them soon.
Natalie Hill is one of the most positive, resilient and light-hearted teenagers I’ve ever met. She a sports star, reliable friend and loving daughter to her parents, Shaunee and Jeff Hill. At 16, she’s battling cancer for the second time. Apparently, the osteosarcoma moved from her knee into the lungs. There’s mixed messages whether this cancer is terminal, but Natalie is taking no chances, and living everyday like it’s her last.
Occupy Los Angeles was one of the last hold outs of the occupy protests. While on vacation enjoying a week with the family, Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa decided to shut down the occupy protest site on the lawn of city hall at 12:01 a.m. Nov. 28. This public announcement drew more media, protestors and revolution tourists to the site than have been present during the previous 58 days of protest. Everyone was holding signs and dancing on bus stops when I arrived at 10:30 p.m. But after a party bus stopped in front of the block and blasted Marvin Gaye, the streets filled and the night finally began.
I responded to a little reck out in the country recently. The scanner said that a woman drove her car into a river. I called dispatch to get the location (I missed the original transmission) but she shut me down, saying that they don’t divulge that information. Three seconds later, and Oregon State Police trooper radioed, “where was that crash on Highway 42 South?” Dispatch told him to 12-4, which is radio speak for “give me a call on your cell.” She knew I was listening, but it was too late, the trooper inadvertently gave me the info I needed.
This week I spent two days in the Elliot State Forest with writer Jessie Higgins reporting a story about Cascadia Forest Defenders, a group of young environmental activists who give public comment via direct action. Our adventure included navigating narrow logging roads, convincing skeptical youth that we were in fact journalists, not cops, forest service deputies or anyone else who might be contrary to their cause. We climbed 100 feet up into a Douglas Fir, interviewed protestors who insisted that they cover their faces with bandanas and give us fake names, and finally, convince Oregon State Police troopers that we were, once again, journalists, and not part of the clan of tree sitters committed to sacrificing their bodies in the name of nature.
There’s been a lot of Coast Guard posts lately. The access to this group has been so easy over the past 21 months (although I’m still scheming to get on a helicopter somehow). Last Friday I had the privilege of witnessing a time-honored tradition in the U.S. Coast Guard — a change of command. But this ceremony was a bit special because Capt. Scott Kitchen (above) wasn’t just relieved of command, he retired after 25 years in the USCG. He’s had an impressive career. Under his watch at Air Station North Bend alone, he’s been responsible for more than 1,500 search and rescue deployments and more than 2,400 lives saved. In 2005 he was the commander in New Orleans organizing USGC efforts. He was personally responsible for air-lifting 40 people from roof tops, while the USGC as a whole saved 33,544 people.
The Coast Guard Air Station North Bend held their annal open house. The base is literally two blocks from my house, so I strolled down on my day off to check out the scene. I’ve done a bit of work with this air station and ran into many familiar faces. It was nice to roam around without any deadline pressure and wait for moments. Having a beer in the Wardroom with a few helicopter pilots didn’t hurt, either.
A major asset when making pictures in a small community is forging relationships. I’ve heard horror stories of police officers infringing on photojournalists rights — even going so far as breaking their equipment. These instances are rare, but recently there have been a few cases that resolved with legal action. We’re allowed to photograph anyone and anything as long as it’s visible from public property. But many cops disregard this legal right and act impulsively when faced with a camera pointed in their direction. It’s understandable. Police often have to chase, tackle and subdue alluding suspects (not to mention shoot someone). While physical force, when properly applied, is within the scope of an officer’s duties, a single picture can often obscure context. Many people don’t bother to read the caption, which would reveal the circumstances that preceded the use of force. In an effort to squash any potential conflict while covering spot news, I like to go on ride alongs with local law enforcement. We build trust and understanding. The problem is, there’s this thing called the “curse” of the ride along — nothing ever happens when there’s an observer in the cruiser.
Here are a few scenes from a recent house fire. The daughter (pictured above) was home with her aunt when she noticed smoldering coming from the roof above the wood stove. Her mother came home to a burned out house, with most of their belongings lost to the flames. It’s so difficult to capture a house actually on fire. The fire department drives fast and does a great job. I don’t have lights or sirens on my rig. So I try to look for moments away from the house, telling of the emotion surrounding the scene.
This frame is a few years old, but caught my attention while flipping through the archive. This is Richard Mundy, homeless with his wife, Jane, in Reno, NV.
I found this guy playing on the South Jetty near Bastendorff beach. I hope he’s current on his tetanus shots.
I had the pleasure of photographing an array of Native Americans from various tribes in Oregon. Click the link to see how the newspaper designed the photo page. And see a few more photos here.
Hector Lopez recently returned to Portland, Ore., after being deported to Mexico five months ago. His father was deported as well, but his mother, Sara, stayed to take care of Hector’s 15-year-old brother, Louis, who is a U.S. Citizen. Hector was brought to the U.S. as child. He crossed back into Arizona under reasonable fear. After months in a detention center, he returned to Portland pending a hearing back in Arizona.
Cody Goodnough operates the control panel for the various fire elements inside a mobile fire training unit. “Burn and learns are difficult to get permission for these days,” Goodnough said. He works for the Department of Public Safety Standards and Training. He travels around five counties in Oregon with the mobile fire unit semi-trailer working with fire departments to help them train with a controlled live fire.
I hosted a photography workshop for local photographers. The idea is to generate revenue for the photo department independently instead of relying on the general budget to fulfill our needs. The number of students was low, but I had only two weeks for marketing. I’m going to hold another workshop in the Fall with more prep and planning. These are images I snapped during the workshop. We went to a horse show and then checked out a local festival and U.S. Coast Guard demonstration.
benjamin brayfield 