Page 21 - Demo

19Our next stop was the tiny hamlet of Stewart, where I found Burt in his office. He had on a Purdue Tshirt, which made me smile. Being a Purdue graduate living in Bloomington, I don%u2019t often get to see references to my alma mater so emblazoned on someone%u2019s chest. A third-generation elevator man, Burt shared several old photographs with me, including one of his grandfather (also named Burt) standing in front of the very elevator I could see through the office window.A short time later, after I captured several exterior views, Burt offered to accompany me inside%u2014up to the top of the elevator. Despite having vertigo when I%u2019m more than a few feet off the ground, I agreed to his invitation, nonchalantly adding that I really liked shooting interiors. With that, Burt hopped on the man lift, while I started climbing the open stairway. About halfway up, I began slowing down, and mentioned my fear of heights. Having kept pace, height-wise, Burt opened the door of the man lift and reached out to take my camera and tripod, so I could hold on to the railings with both hands. This made a world of difference%u2014so much so that I was able to zip the rest of the way up. At the top, Burt mentioned that, while climbing these steps as a kid, he told his dad he was afraid of falling. In that illogical, but somehow reassuring, manner of fathers to sons everywhere, his dad told him he couldn%u2019t fall if he tried. Only slightly more at ease, Burt recalled thinking at the time that, if he really tried, he could probably manage to fall%u2014but he wasn%u2019t interested in trying. I wasn%u2019t either.As I looked around the upper level, I was surprised how roomy it was%u2014a great place to set up my camera. Burt pointed to a large metal pulley (above), mounted on a horizontal shaft, up near the ceiling. %u201cThat pulley,%u201d he said, %u201cwas once connected to a similar one down in the lower level by belts made of hemp rope.%u201d As I started snapping pictures, he explained how the lower pulley had been driven by a shaft extending through the foundation wall into a nearby brick building where there was a steam engine%u2014the power source for the elevator in the old days. Although the engine was long gone, the brick building was still in good condition, and being used as a workshop.When we returned to the ground, I noticed that Burt was somehow dust free. Me? I was totally covered with a white, powdery grit. Standing next to our car, I removed my sweatshirt and thoroughly shook it out, then, with Lynn%u2019s help, carefully brushed myself off. Finally, I patiently and meticulously cleaned my camera, being careful to remove all the grain particles with a damp rag and a can of compressed air. Having thanked Burt%u2014a couple of times%u2014Lynn and I headed out the gravel driveway. This would be a long, but productive outing. In our 13 hours away from home on this Sunday, we would cover 440 miles, shoot at 17 different locations, and meet several kind and welcoming people along the way.Stewart, Warren Co. (612.13)Stewart, Warren Co. (612.11)