Page 8 - Demo

6in that dilapidated factory? Who was the original owner of that rusted-out pickup truck? What happened to the masons who built that one-room schoolhouse, and the children who sat at its desks? I know I could talk to neighbors, track down relatives, research old newspaper clippings, or visit historical societies, and get some of the answers. But, without a doubt, those answers would be incomplete. They couldn%u2019t possibly tell the entire story or, perhaps, even the most important story. So, without knowing the specific details of a place, I record what I see and what I feel. Some of my subjects are historically or architecturally significant, others are quite ordinary. Some evoke a warm sense of nostalgia, some are stark and sad. But my subjects were all central, vital, and dynamic to someone. They are a record of the spirit that has been left behind. In fact, they are a record of the true history of South-Central Indiana%u2014the history of the day-to-day lives of ordinary people.The Roman poet Ovid said time was %u201cthe devourer of all things.%u201d Even though our contemporary buildings and machines will also eventually turn to dust, I can%u2019t imagine them ever having the dignity of a forlorn country church with no congregation, or a battered and rusted tractor no longer able to plow. To me, that which was built many decades ago often retains a presence, a vitality%u2014a spirit%u2014that%u2019s rarely found in today%u2019s complex, plastic-infested society. It%u2019s this soulful, aging, built environment I am compelled to record on film%u2014before it%u2019s completely devoured by time. Actually, some of my subjects are already gone. In some cases they were razed and hauled away the day after I shot them.On one of our many rides in the country, Lynn and I casually discussed the possibility of assembling my photographs into a book. Even though the idea remained somewhat nebulous, we started going for drives with the specific purpose of taking pictures. Over time, as the project started to gel, then solidify, a title became apparent, and we decided to definitely publish a book. But in order to keep it to a manageable size, we would limit it to photos taken in ten specific counties in South-Central Indiana%u2014Bartholomew, Brown, Crawford, Harrison, Jackson, Lawrence, Monroe, Orange, Perry, and Washington (see the map on page 141). While all the photos on these pages were taken in these particular counties, my subjects are often so typically Midwestern that many are reminiscent of locales in Indiana%u2019s other 82 counties.Once we had a definite goal in mind, I obtained maps for each of my chosen ten counties, and Lynn and I started marking off the roads we covered. Eventually, when the weather was agreeable, we drove 90% of the paved roads, unpaved roads, and dead-end roads on my maps%u2014almost 15,000 miles%u2014seeking %u201cfading, forlorn, and forgotten places%u201d to photograph. All the images in this book were taken over a three-and-a-half-year period between 2000 and 2003.About midway through the project, I applied for an Individual Artist Grant from the Indiana Arts Commission to help publish my book. After their jurying process was complete, I was pleased to be awarded a $1,000 grant%u2014not nearly enough to actually pay for publication costs, but a nice check nonetheless. I thank them very much for their support. I%u2019d also like to thank Judy O%u2019Bannon for writing such a heartfelt Foreword, and Lynn, my wife, lover, and best friend, who is responsible for the actual design of the book, who wrote the essay on SouthCentral Indiana, and who is my most-valued critic.For many years I used a Minolta 35-mm camera of average quality, but for this project I purchased a Mamiya 645 medium-format camera. This camera produces negatives that are