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The Jailhouse
Yesterday I got to go through the old Natrona County Jail and Juvenile Detention Center in downtown Casper. The center, which has since closed because a new one was built, further fueled my obsession with old, abandoned decrepit things and reminded me that I’d never like to spend a night in jail.
The Animal Cops
A few weeks ago, a reporter here asked if I’d be interested in working on a story about Metro Animal Control here in Casper. He said they’d let me ride along with them as they caught dogs and cats, so I figured why not.
Fair warning: You will see dead animals below.
Here’s a few from half-a-day with them.
Jeral, the animal control officer I hung out with for a bit.
Some dogs won’t walk along with you, he said.
After an animal is brought in, they have to be checked and vaccinated.
Not as ferocious as he looks. I think he just needed a chew toy.
Cleaning the pens.
The not-so-glamorous part of the job.
The animal pit. Yeah, where they put roadkill and the like.
Click-or-Treat
Didn’t have an assignment Saturday, so I went downtown where most Casper businesses opened their doors to trick-or-treaters for the afternoon. When I was back in Columbia, I covered an event similar to this, but there were a ton more kids here and the costumes were some of the best I’ve seen. For real.
Redcoats
Went to cover a ribbon cutting and groundbreaking yesterday. We’re morally opposed to running pictures of golden shovels in the paper, so I spent a majority of the ceremony working the fringes of the crowd, where I found the Chamber of Commerce Ambassadors.
Chamber of Commerce ambassador Jerry Elsberry, center, listens as Mayor Paul Bertoglio reads a proclamation during a groundbreaking ceremony for Seton House, a transitional home for single parents, Sept. 12, 2011 in Casper, Wyo. The non-profit plans to convert the vacant Hillcrest-Water Building, shown in background, into a learning center and office space for social workers.
The 9/11 Generation
As part of a 9/11 retrospective running this week, I talked with six middle and high school students here in Casper to see what they remember about 9/11 and what they think it means. It was really interesting to talk with people who were barely more than 5 years old when it happened, while I (and probably you) have vivid memories of that day and how everything changed.
Guernsey
Last week, I went out to Camp Guernsey on my way to Las Vegas for a weekend trip where I got to hang out with a Special Forces unit from Fort Campbell while they were doing IED training at the post. Mostly it was them driving around in Humvees with very large guns trying not to trip the fake explosives (baby powder triggered by a small explosive, like a firecracker).
Still, it was cool — and humbling — to meet some of the soldiers who have been out there on the frontlines in the shit, and even though them and I are pretty much worlds apart, we could still quote “Talladega Nights” together.
Cora’s Community Heart
Last week, I worked on a story with Star-Tribune (and fellow Mizzou alum) Kelsey Dayton about Cora, Wyoming’s post office, which is being considered for closure by the U.S. Postal Service in order to cut costs. In Cora (which has about 75 residents) the building is more than a mailbox, it’s the center, and only significant building, in town.
The Honor Guard
I’ve never photographed the return of anyone killed in combat. Today, Marine Lance Cpl. Sean O’Connor came home to Douglas, where hundreds lined the town’s streets as his casket drove through downtown. As I was getting ready to leave the airport, I made this frame of the Marine Honor Guard marching back toward their vehicles.
It feels like we’ve been fighting forever, and after a while you forget these kids are still out there dying. Today was a sobering reminder.
The Neighborly Way
During my first full week at the Star-Tribune, I got sent to Saratoga, Wyoming (near the Colorado border) to cover a flood in the town. The North Platte River, which also runs through Casper, was predicted to hit a record 10.5 feet, so I got asked to check it out. I did it all – stills, video and a little writing update – so the day was a long one.
As I was wandering around the banks of the river early in the afternoon, I met Jason Campbell, a resident who offered to drive me around and show me places that had been flooded. What I discovered was that Jason, along with his father and wife, took the whole day to drive around and help their neighbors by pumping water out of flooded yards and anything else that needed done.
The Campbells were nice enough to let me come over to their house for an interview (where I reluctantly declined a glass of wine) then said they might meet up with me later for a drink after I was done editing. It was a great feeling to know that these subjects didn’t just see me as a nosy photojournalist, but as someone who wanted to tell their story. I didn’t see them later that night, but I did have a few beers while hanging out with some residents at my hotel, including the waitress who served me lunch. All in all, a good trip.
The Second Line
Last weekend, Columbia dedicated a memorial to a 1923 lynching victim, James T. Scott. I wasn’t really sure what to expect or how big this event would be, but my expectations immediately went up when I saw a band gathering outside the Second Missionary Baptist Church where the ceremony was. Once I saw the band, I knew it was a second line, and this event became more than a dedication, it became a funeral of sorts.
(For those who don’t know, second lines are often seen in New Orleans during traditional jazz funerals where no body exists.)
Scott was charged with the rape of a girl. He professed his innocence, but before his trial, a lynch mob broke into his jail cell and hung him over the Stewart Bridge, which, if it were here today, would be near a Taco Bell in town. Last Saturday, Scott got his final respects, and an ugly chapter in Columbia’s history came to a little bit of a close.
