Images taken across Oahu in the last few months and published in the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal.
Singer and Host of The Masked Singer
Singer and Host of The Masked Singer
Family Taro Farm
Hawaiian Singer
Hawaiian Singer
Hawaiian Singer, Kapena
Hawaiian Singers, Kapena
North Shore cowboy
Hawaiian Singers, Keauhou
Hawaiian Singers, Keauhou
Miss Aloha Hula 2016
Miss Aloha Hula 2016
Magazine Photo Editor
Hong Kong film producers
Author and Disability Advocate
Curator, Honolulu Museum of Art
Hawaii Island volcanic eruption survivor
Korean War Ace Pilot
Former U.S. Congresswoman
Chef’s at Honolulu restaurant Senia
Sculpter/Artist
Painter/Artist
Art collector
14th Generation Samurai
President of the Muslim Association of Hawaii
US Congresswoman
Guitarist, REM
Comedian and Actor
Singer and Host of The Masked Singer
For over 20 years, I had the extraordinary opportunity to make portraits of the survivors from December 7, 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor and several other veterans from World War II battles. With Pearl Harbor being the greatest generation’s 9/11, many veterans from all walks of life attended the yearly ceremony’s held at the Memorial. Around the early 2000s, I started attending the yearly events, setting up a background with lights and ask the veterans if I could take their picture and hear their story. In front of my camera, I was able to document the history of World War II in every wrinkle and scar these veterans shared with me.
As time marched on, fewer and fewer veterans would attend the events and by the 75th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, many called it quits as they just got too old to attend.
But for several years, I was able to photography survivors of Pearl Harbor, including the last seven survivors of the USS Arizona, veterans from the Battle of Midway, and many other soldiers from battles across the Pacific. Several Japanese veterans, including those who participated in the 1941 attack, also attended many of the annual memorials.
Japanese war veterans began to arrive at Pearl Harbor soon after the USS Arizona Memorial was build in the early 1960s. Park officials were unsure how to receive the growing number of Japanese vets as many of the American survivors harbored extreme views towards them swearing never to forgive.
At first, American survivors rejected any peace offerings but persistence and age inevitably won over many, and in an historic moment, Japanese and US vets finally shook hands during the 50th anniversary of the attack. That handshake healed many wounds and lead to a better understanding between the two nations and their children who once waged a terrible war against each other.
After all, the soldiers on both sides were just following orders.
The hardest story to document was from John Anderson. He and his twin brother were both stationed aboard the USS Arizona during the attack. They were separated at their duty station and after the fatal bomb that split the Arizona in two, John Anderson was forced to abandoned ship leaving his brother behind. His shipmates had to shove him into a rescue craft as he refused to leave the ship without his twin brother.
Mr. Anderson’s face, body, and heart were heavily scarred by the damage done by the attack. He carried a heavy burden his entire life knowing his brother still lays inside the ruins of the Arizona.
Mr. Anderson died in 2015 and his ashes were interred inside the USS Arizona to be with this brother and the other men who didn’t survive that day.
Along with Mr. Anderson, almost all the persons in this gallery have passed away.
I started my documentation shooting black and white film with medium format cameras eventually switching to digital. I first used a muslin background but eventually transitioned to seamless paper.
I would like to acknowledge the many people who assisted me for very little compensation over the years of these events. Without you, their pictures would not exist. Special recognition goes out to Jamm and Erica as they helped me several times with my documentation.
Thank you.
I’m very honored to share some of this unseen work.
Ed Wentzlaff was aboard the USS Arizona when the attack happened. on Dec. 7, 1941. He told me he was waiting for church service to begin when the Japanese attacked. He said he thought he survived because he obeyed orders and manned the guns to fight off the Japanese.
He said he didn't want people to ever forget what happened,…as it was such a horrific thing. He never forgave them…the Japanese. He told me he lost all of his friends that day .
John Anderson still bears the scars of Pearl Harbor, inside and outside. He and his twin brother were both assigned to the USS Arizona and were on different sides of the ship when the attack began on December 7, 1941.
As bombs ripped the Arizona apart, he frantically began searching for his brother but explosions kept him from going on. Anderson, who was already injured, was ordered to abandon the badly damaged vessel but he continued to disobey orders to find his twin.
A senior officer finally shoved Anderson into a boat yelling that his brother was dead . Once on land he found another small rowboat and returned to the burning ship still desperately searching for his brother. He rescued three men but all three died when their boat was strafed by a Japanese plane.
Anderson said the burns on his face and body were from the oil burning atop the water as he swam back to shore.
His twin brother was never found and is likely entombed inside the USS Arizona. Anderson remarked how lucky his life turned out but never could forget his lost brother. Upon his death, Anderson wishes for his remains to be entombed inside the sunken battleship alongside his brother.
John passed away November 13, 2015 and after 74 years, he was reunited with his brother being buried onboard the USS Arizona.
Although Joe Langdell was a young officer assigned to the USS Arizona, he was not aboard the ship that morning and helplessly witnessed the attack across the bay on Ford Island. He helped wounded survivors out of the water taking them to a nearby hospital. Most of the men were covered in oil and suffered horrific burns.
Days after the attack he was ordered back to the Arizona to recover the bodies and body parts scattered above the waterline of the destroyed vessel. He spent two days collecting the remains of his fellow shipmates.
USS Arizona survivor Lou Contor witnessed the horror of the attack on his ship back in 1941. After the Arizona was mortally hit and was burning, he recalls seeing men jumping from the sides of the ship into the burning waters below. He helped rescue many of his shipmates and recalled how awful their burns were.
Contor went on to flight school to become a a Navy pilot. He flew PBY Catalinas and flew missions in the South Pacific. Contor survived being shot down by enemy fire off the coast of New Guinea into shark infested waters. They swam to shore and were rescued before the Japanese forces discovered them.
Like his shipmate Don Stratton, Lauren Bruner was also inside the same gun platform when the USS Arizona blew up during the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.
Before the explosion, Bruner told me the Japanese planes flew so close to the ship he could see the pilot’s smiling face.
Bruner suffered shrapnel wounds along with suffering burns to most of his body. After he recovered, Bruner saw action near the Aleutian Islands and the South Pacific.
During our photo session, Bruner was telling me about the attack when he suddenly turned quiet and looked away, tears forming in his eyes. He stopped talking and remained silent for a few moments. He said he suffered years of nightmares and had never been able to put aside the trauma of that day.
Navy sailor Don Stratton was stationed in an anti-aircraft gun platform aboard the USS Arizona when the ship spectacularly blew up after being hit by a Japanese bomb on December 7, 1941. Stratton and the others stationed with him were badly burned and injured. He suffered burns to over over two-thirds of his body. With skin peeling off his arms, he pulled himself to safety with a rope thrown to him from a nearby ship. He remembers the water being on fire from the oil spilling from the other ships.
Due to his burns, he was given a medical discharge but he quickly reenlisted back in the Navy and saw action in the Pacific.
Before I photographed Mr. Stratton, I shook his hand and his grip was like iron. I winched as his hand pinched mine like a vice.
21 year old Lonnie Cook was on the USS Arizona on December 7, 1941. The seaman first class had $60 in his pocket from winning a craps game the night before and he was ready for a day in Honolulu on liberty. As he closed the door to his locker inside the ship, he felt a rumbling. The chief turret captain burst into the hallway screaming the Japanese were attacking.
As the Japanese attacked, Cook raced for his battle station inside the turret gun pit where he helped load the big guns. Moments later, a Japanese bomb scored a direct hit on the ship. Before abandoning the sinking ship, Cook helped launch lifeboats to save as many of his fellow crewmen as possible. Many, he recalled years later, were so badly injured they were unrecognizable.
Kermit Tyler was the officer in charge of the air information center at Fort Shafter on the morning of December 7, 1941 when he mistook a radar image of the incoming wave of Japanese attack aircraft for a flight of B-17 bombers expected from the U.S. When his radar operators reported their findings, Tyler replied “don’t worry about it.” Many veterans and historians have speculated that Tyler’s decision left the Pacific Fleet vulnerable to the attack allowing Japanese planes to attack the defenseless the military installation.
A number of investigations into his action years after the attack found Tyler was not derelict or negligent in his duties that morning but until the day he died, Tyler was vilified for his actions at Pearl Harbor.
Imperial Japanese Navy Lieutenant Zenji Abe was a pilot aboard the Japaense aircraft carrier Akagi. He flew in the second wave of dive bombers that attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. He recalls he dropped his bombs on the USS Raleigh.
Decades later, Abe became a symbol of reconciliation and peace between U.S. and Japanese veterans as he attended many of the yearly memorials in Hawaii. He led a group of Japanese veterans to Pearl Harbor starting in the 1980 and until his death, became a regular fixture at the memorials where he continued to pray for world peace.
Japanese Imperial Naval pilot Takeshi Maeda guided his bomber to Pearl Harbor and released a torpedo that helped sink the USS West Virginia. Years later, he became a leading figure in reconciliation efforts between Japan and the United States.
Japanese Imperial Naval pilot Jiro Yoshida flew a Mitsubishi A6M "Zero,” a long-range carrier-based attack plane during WWII. After the war, he lead the Zero Pilots Association and the Japanese American Cultural Exchange program. He attended several Pearl Harbor memorials promoting peach and understanding between Japan and the United States.
Rear Admiral John Besson commanded Navy’s heavy cruiser, USS Pensacola, in World War II and participated in the battles for Midway, Saipan, Tinian, Guam, and the battle of Savo. Besson was promoted to Rear Admiral in 1959 and retired from the Navy.
Navy Ensign William Tunstall severed as a plane captain responsible for the maintenance of torpedo planes aboard the USS Hornet. He was aboard the ship when Doolittle’s B-24 bombers remarkably launched off the aircraft carrier in retaliation for Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor. “I saw everyone of them go up,” recalled the then 22-yr-old Tunstall.
He went on to fight in the Battle of Midway where only one of his 15 planes returned. “All my friends died in that battle.”
William Henry Temple was a Navy baker slicing bread aboard the USS California in Pearl Harbor when the Japanese attacked on the morning of Dec. 7, 1941. Temple dropped everything to get to his battle station. Despite taking several bomb and torpedo hits, the California was able to engage the attacking Japanese and shot down two planes. Mr. Temple survived the attack and served through the remainder of World War II in the South Pacific.
20 year old John Rauschkolb felt the USS West Virginia shake violently as Japanese torpedoes slammed into its portside below where he stood as a Navy signalman. He witnessed comrades die within feet of him and recalls explosions occurring in spots where he had just been standing. The crew managed to counterflood a portion of the ship to prevent it from capsizing, but the USS West Virginia sunk into the muddy harbor floor, its deck left just above the water’s surface. In a small boat, Rauschkolb made his way to the even worse stricken USS Arizona, where he helped recover bodies.
More than 100 men on the USS West Virginia died. Rauschkolb was reported missing in action. His family, in Belleville, Illinois, held memorial services for him on December 19, 1941, and then received a telegram: “Navy Department is pleased to advise you later reports received indicate that your son, previously reported lost, is a survivor. The great unnecessary anxiety caused you is deeply regretted.” The next night, Rauschkolb, reunited with his family and friends, celebrated his 21st birthday.
Rauschkolb was discharged from the Navy in 1977 after 39 years of service. In Pearl Harbor, on the 65th anniversary of the assault, he shook hands in a gesture of peace with Japanese war veteran Takeshi Maeda, who fired a torpedo into the USS West Virginia.
Sailor Earl Smith was in his bunk when the attack on Pearl Harbor happened. As he scrambled up a ladder to the deck of the USS Tennessee, he slipped and chipped a tooth but made it to his post in the gunnery department.
After the attack, Smith swam among burning oil slicks in an attempt to rescue anyone out there but he doesn’t remember finding anyone alive. He tied ropes to the ankles of the bodies so they could be pulled from the water. He told me those were his orders but he said it was like a horror movie. To this day he still cannot shake the smell of burning flesh.
Ralph Lindenmeyer was stationed at Ford Island in Pearl Harbor as an aviation machinist’s mate, inspecting, maintaining and repairing aircraft engines and propellers. He was in his barracks, looking forward to a day off at the beach in Waikiki, when the building started to tremble. “Every time a bomb would hit, the whole island would shake,” he recalled. He remembers seeing a squadron of Japanese planes flying over his base toward nearby Battleship Row, a group of seven ships moored at Ford Island.
After the attack, Lindenmeyer went to a mess hall to pick up sandwiches for his comrades, where he found wounded servicemen draped over tables and wet, weary sailors who had swum from damaged ships.
One of the many duties seaman Ray Brittain had onboard the USS Tennessee was a mess hall cook. The morning of Dec. 7th, Brittan was taking unloading food garbage off the ship when the Japanese began their attack. He and another shipmate were aboard the deck when they spotted the “red meatballs” on the side of the attacking planes.
As he ran down the bows of the ship yelling the Japanese were attacking, his shipmates laughed and thought it was a joke until the explosion began rattling the ship. The confused crew ran to their stations and did the best they could during the fight. A bomb blew Brittan onto the steel deck of the Tennessee where he broke his foot and leg. He came to a few seconds later never noticing his shoe was missing. After the attack, he tried to get medical attention for his now blackened foot but was scoffed at by medical personnel and ordered to look around at the other wounded. He saw fellow sailors with burns so severe, their skin peeled right off. “It was if they were taking off a tshirt,” Brittan said.
He was given morphine and told to come back later.
Days after the attack, Brittan and others were ordered to pull dead men out of the water. He’d have to swim up to corpses and tie ropes around their shoulders where others would haul them to the beaches.
While on duty at night, he talked about the sounds of bodies plopping out of the waters. His eyes welled with tears and his body began to shake.
Brittan explained that the bodies of the dead sailors that had been trapped underwater would fill with gasses and float to the surface making a plopping sound when they broke the surface.
He looked at me and said “After all these years, he still can’t forget…” Visibly shaken again, Brittan said he had enough and walked off.
Mickey Ganitch was aboard the USS Pennsylvania when the Japanese attacked took place on December 7th. The sailor had been preparing to play a game of football against a crew from the USS Arizona that afternoon. So it was in his football uniform when he went to battle station.
In the second wave of the Japanese air raid, a 500-pound bomb hit the USS Pennsylvania just 45 yards from Ganitch, significantly damaging the ship and killing about two dozen men. Ganitch escaped injury, even though machine gun bullets clipped the mast he climbed to get to his post.
Jesse Love was born in 1922 in Mississippi. His parents were sharecroppers and his grandparents had been slaves. Love enlisted in the Navy and wanted to be a mechanic, but because he was black his only option was to cook and clean as the system severely limited African-Americans' opportunities in the military.
"I considered myself fighting two wars during those days," he stated.
On the morning of Dec. 7, 1941, Love was a cook at Ford Island. He recalled the blasts of bombs and torpedoes dropped by Japanese planes, and the three horribly burned young Americans he helped to wrap in clean linens.
"They were in their skivvies and they were covered with black oil and they had blisters on their bodies the size of walnuts and marbles."
Robert Coles was only 17 and serving aboard the USS Bagley when the Japanese strike force swooped down on Pearl Harbor dropping torpedoes and bombs on Battleship Row. Coles took up a .50 caliber machine gun and is credited with striking two enemy planes as they flew over the Bagley. When his machine gun ran out of ammunition, he acted as a plane spotter and fed ammunition to the other guns.
21 year old Roy Carter was three decks below in the carpenter shop on the USS Oklahoma when he heard the alert: “Air attack! No Shit! All hands man your battle stations. Set conditions zed!”
Carter said his duty was to lock down a watertight hatch that could only be opened from the outside.
As soon as he locked the hatch, torpedoes struck the Oklahoma and began sinking. By locking down that hatch, he knew he sealed the fate of the other sailors into their stations below as they would likely not be able to escape a water grave.
Knowing his only option was to get to topside, Carter began climbing out on his hands and knees as water and oil drenched him from head to foot. Somehow he managed to climb out before the ship turned over and pulled him under.
He later discovered that by shutting the hatch, it kept the seawaters from drowning the men below. They were eventually rescued when wielders cut a hole in the side of the ship to free the sailors.
“I felt I saved eight guys that day,” Carter said
Nelson Mitchell was the oldest African American survivor of the attack on Pearl Harbor. The then 20-year-old was a cook aboard the USS Jarvis and was still in bed that early Sunday morning. During the attack, he helped carry and load munitions but was not allowed to fire the guns.
Kenneth Otagaki was drafted in March 1941 and assigned to the 65th Combat Engineers. He was later transferred to the Hawaiian Provisional Battalion and was an original member of the 100th Infantry Battalion. A litter bearer, he was severely wounded before the battle of Cassino in Italy. After recovering from his injuries and learning to live with his disabilities, he went on to receive advanced degrees in animal sciences. Otagaki had a distinguished career as a professor at the University of Hawaii and in the State Department of Agriculture.
Nicknamed Cesar because his Sargent couldn’t pronounce his name, Hayashi was awarded the Medal of Honor for his conduct during combat in Italy in 1943.
While under heavy fire, Hayashi charged a German gun position killing more than a dozen combatants. He then captured several soldiers and forced the rest of the enemy into retreat. Hayashi was originally awarded the Distinguished Service Cross which was upgraded to the Medal of Honor upon military review in June 2000. The review was conducted on the belief that racial discrimination prevented Hayashi and several other Asian soldiers from being awarded the United States' highest decoration for valor.
Sueo "Slim" Sakamoto served in the 100th Infantry Battalion which was then mostly composed of Hawaii National guardsmen of Japanese decent. The 100th saw heavy combat during WWII throughout Europe.
I photographed Mr. Sakamoto at the 100th Battalion clubhouse in Honolulu around 2007. He was very quiet and talked very little to me only sharing that he was struck in the head by a German bullet that left a hole in his helmet. Years later, I called the clubhouse to ask about him but found out he passed away nearly a decade ago. The clubhouse knew very little about him as he mostly kept to himself.
During World War II, James Tapp became a U.S. Army Air Forces ACE, credited with shooting down 8 enemy aircraft in aerial combat.He escorted B-29 bombing mission over the Japan. He was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for dsplaying extraordinary courage and airmanship during one air battle against a numerically superior Japanese force.
Jerry Yellin was 18 years old when he enlisted in the military, two months after the attack on Pearl Harbor. He would train to become a fighter pilot and flew combat missions over Japan and Iwo Jima.
Yellin flew the final combat mission of World War II, an attack on Japanese airfields near Tokyo.
Decades after the war, his son married the daughter of a Japanese kamikaze pilot.
Mal Middlesworth was on his way to rear of the USS San Francisco to hoist the flag and begin his 8 a.m. to noon watch when he saw the first explosions on Ford Island. Initially, he thought it was a drill, with dummy bombs. But that changed when a Japanese torpedo plane whizzed by just 30 or 40 feet from him.
The USS San Francisco was a sitting duck; docked in the harbor for repairs and upgrades, the heavy cruiser had no fuel or ammunition for its large artillery. Yet miraculously the ship was not hit, and its crew suffered no injuries.
Middlesworth’s post, from which he observed the battle, afforded him, as he has put it, “a front-row seat to history.” He joined the Marines just two months earlier, at age 18, and served for four years—a tenure that would come to define him. When asked about his past being a Marine, he replied, “I wasn’t a Marine. I am a Marine,!” He proudly touts 17 scars from 15 major battles he fought including combat at Guadalcanal.
Ellis Lewellen was aboard the USS Detroit during the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. They escaped the harbor without any damage and were able to shoot down two Japanese planes. On the way out of the harbor they were able to rescue many sailors from the waters.
17 year old Jack Evans was stationed aboard the USS Tennessee. On December 6, 1941, he was cajoled into dancing with Pat Campbell, a local 10-year-old girl, in a jitterbug contest at a Navy band competition. The pair won the top prize.
The next morning, as he laid in bed, an alarm sounded in general quarters and the command “Man your battle stations, this is no drill!” As he came to the deck, he saw the Japanese planes flying overhead. His job was to spot aircraft from a lookout in the foretop, a platform on the mast at the ship’s bow.
“When the Arizona blew, there was a chunk of metal as large as a locomotive that went spiraling up over my head and into the smoke that built up so rapidly I couldn’t see the thing anymore. I have no idea where it landed but it was a terrific jolt,” Evans recalled. Two bombs struck the USS Tennessee during the battle, one of which drove shrapnel into Evans’ legs. “I didn’t even know it. I felt absolutely no pain. I guess that is the way you feel when you’ve got a real big charge of adrenaline in your body,” said Evans. “It must have been an hour or so later when someone said, ‘Hey Jack, you’re bleeding,’ and I looked down. By this time there were several tracks of blood going down each leg, and the blood had dried, it was that old.”
For nearly 60 years, Evans’ dance partner, later named Pat Thompson, wondered if the sailor survived. In 1999, she wrote a story about the jitterbug contest that was published in a veterans’ newsletter. Evans happened to read it. The two connected, and as chance would have it, they discovered they had lived a mere 15 miles away from each other in San Diego for about 40 of the lost years. At the 65th anniversary in Hawaii, they shared a dance.
Ivan Viers was US Army pilot during WWII and flew a P-38 during the war. He flew many combat mission over Japan and claimed to have one confirmed kill.
This macabre documentation of dead birds started out of a morbid curiosity. Over the last year or so I stumbled across many dead birds in various states of decay and death all around town. Maybe they were always around me but I never took notice.
I do like birds and feed them when I can. When dining outdoors, I always throw bits of food at my little feathered friends who peep and squeak for small morsels to eat. Hence this project was a little sad to document.
I was assigned to document girl’s high school sporting events for Honolulu’s Star Advertiser newspaper over the last year. While I had to work with bad florescent lighting and extremely high ISOs on my cameras, I created some wonderful images capturing the passion and the drama of the sporting world.
When I was a child, my father’s friend had an autistic son and they would come to visit. The adults encouraged us to play with each other. We were about 6 or 7 years old, maybe Charles was a bit older, but we took our toys and played with them as the adults drank coffee and talked in the other room.
Charles didn’t communicate or really speak. He was shy and never made eye contact. I recall he smelled of coffee and sweat. He didn’t really do anything but he would get obsessed with the toys I had. He would fascinate over them and very little would break his attention.
My older brother would cruelly take away the toys from Charles and place them just out of reach. He’d put it on a top shelf or toss it under the bed and laugh as Charles would cry and whine trying to get the toy. I didn’t find much humor in my brother’s cruelty but amazed at Charles’ determination but too too young to understand what was wrong with him. It was easy for me to reach the toy but Charles could not solve that problem.
I remember having nightmares at times after they would visit. Those memories were not ones I wanted to hold on to.
My father’s friend would come visit over the years but Charles came less and less. I would politely ask how his son was doing and only get a simple “he’s fine” and be hushed away by the adults. I sensed there was a shame or something I wasn’t able to grasp about the father’s comments about his son. My mother kinda let me know the son was getting too big and he was hard to control so the family left him at home.
I was an adult the last time I saw my father’s friend. He was sitting with my father at the house and they were drinking coffee. Charles obviously had to be an adult like me.
I didn’t ask about Charles and the father said nothing about him.
Decades later, I worked for a charity organization that was giving away funds to an adult day care center that watched over adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities. The center, Responsive Caregivers of Hawaii located in Kapolei, helps their clients lead fulfilling lives with different activities including cooking and music classes and other forms of entertainment and enrichment. While it was overwhelming to interact with many of the people, it was amazing to see the happiness of the clients.
I approached the administration later and proposed a professional photo session where we would create portraits of all their residents. The admin were besides themselves as many of their residents had never been photographed especially with flashing lights and a big white background. The organization also seemed starved for activities so they took any opportunity to provide any enrichment for their clients.
The administration sent home notes with everyone informing them of our intent to take pictures. On the date we set, I arrived to find all the residents already lined up and were excitingly waiting to see me and take their picture. They called out “Mr. Marco I am ready to take a picture!” And they laugh and giggle themselves silly.
Someone cared enough about their brother, or daughter, or cousin…their loved ones to dress them up for their big day. They wore new clothes, some wore aloha print dresses or shirts, and their hair was combed. The energy and excitement among everyone made it feel like it was school picture day.
I took photos of over 80 people including dozens of staff members and caretakers before lunchtime. Everyone smiled and posed as best they could with some acting as if they were high fashion models on a runway while others stared bewildered at the lights. Some people interacted with me while others had very little control over themselves. However, everyone enjoyed themselves. The staff was grateful and appreciated the excitement the picture day provided.
Weeks later, I went back to the center to deliver actual photographs of all the residents. They in turn gave me several hand made thank you cards made of construction paper. Those who could scribbled their names and others drew crooked hearts.
During the many hour portrait session, my camera acted as a shield protecting me from what was taking place in front of me but the editing process forced me into a world I was not comfortable nor familiar. I remembered Charles and his obsessive behavior. I remembered the nightmares and the discomfort. I remembered my brother’s cruelty. That project proved to be one of my most challenging things I have ever done.
Before I made this gallery live on my website, I asked a few close friends to go through the photos to let me know what they thought. Almost everyone responded the photos made them very uncomfortable and a few just refused to look.
A friend whose son is autistic, lashed out at me. Her first reaction was anger, fearing I exploited them. But she quickly realized she was not angry at me, but at her own personal struggle… something she, as a mother of a special needs child, is forced to recognize every moment of her and her child’s life.
She said, “I was mad at first but then realized I was angry at myself for feeling sympathy for the people in the photos. Because, I don’t want ANYONE to pity my son.”
Another friend, who holds a PhD in clinical psychology remarked, “It's rare to see people with developmental disorder photographed with care and artistry. You can see the respect you had for them and how engaging you were as you took their photo. Everyone is dressed like they came ready to pose.”
My friend went on to state, “Many portray a level of confidence that isn't often seen or given an opportunity to be noticed. I also love all the Asian faces...a population that might culturally keep family members with intellectual disabilities out of view. That's really important.”
I remembered my friends father never bringing over Charles again as he got older. And while he was Hispanic, that family hid their “shame.”
“Maybe the most important thing of these pics,” she remarked.
Most of the portraits are hard to view and they force a response from the viewer. My other friends looked away. They didn’t want to feel the discomfort, or the fear, or have pity for these people. My psychologist friend said, “I think your friend with the child on the spectrum…her reaction sums it up. It's not easy. It's complicated but ultimately she wants others to treat her son with dignity and respect and let him have as ‘normal’ of a life that he can to the full extent of his capacity. You're asking people join in that effort when viewing these pictures.”
And maybe the pity we have for these people should reflect back at ourselves… our daily lives, our problems, our addictions, our bills, the hours of traffic we face, the dishes in the sink , the candidates on the ballot…maybe we should pity for ourselves more than who is in these photos.
During the photo shoot, I found mostly everyone was happy. They showed me their best smiles, their crooked teeth, their wild eyes, their best school day clothes. They didn’t worry so much about the far away war, or the coming tax hike, the pimple on their nose, or what might be in the mailbox. No one asked me to make them look thinner, they didn’t preen vainly into a mirror before having me take their picture, or slather layers and layers of makeup on purely for vanity’s sake. They were so thrilled just to have a picture taken. They loved the attention I gave them and they loved their photos. They were much happier than me or anyone I have ever photographed professionally.
Much happier.
I can’t help but to think Charles is well into his 50s…if he made it this far in life. I’m sorry I didn’t understand who you were. I hope you were finally able to reach that toy that was so high on the shelf.
Married.
Thank you notes from the residents.
Thank you notes from the residents.
Thank you notes from the residents.
Thank you notes from the residents.
Thank you notes from the residents.
I spent over ten days in Tokyo this past August. High summer temperatures made the visit unbearable and we logged anywhere from 7-10 miles on foot daily with a peak of nearly 13 miles on one of those miserably hot and humid days. Armed with a digital rangefinder, I bravely hit the streets to capture this gallery of street shots.
While the volcano exists on another island, she is ever present in all of Hawaii. She remains quiet but when she speaks, everyone pays attention to her words.
I have spent many years listening to her, near and far. When I have seen her, she is moving, she is still, she is nowhere but she is everything.
