I Married a Photographer

Having a husband who is a photographer is a vastly interesting experience.  I have worked with photographers off and on for 10 years, met  a handful of them and have found that in more instances than not, they really are a rare breed.

Over the past few months, we have entertained ourselves with exploring the Coal Region; driving out there to find a hidden treasure or interview a resident who can point us in a new direction.  Over the Summer, we had the documentary approach to our new journeys, hoping to come across a park bench with a few people who would lend us ideas on how best to approach our findings (and sometimes name them).  Both Dean and I have memories of spending time in the Shamokin/Trevorton region from childhood and every time I visit, I am flooded with episodes and stories being replayed.

I attended a tiny elementary school in West Cameron, it now is some sort of community/lodge hall type thing now -in my opinion, is a total waste.  Our cafeteria, auditorium, music class and gym were the same room.  I remember during gym class, it  was very terrifying playing games like “Red Light, Green Light” and “What Time is it Mr. Fox” because when we had to sprint back to home base, we all headed full blast to the cafeteria tables, neatly folded up at the opposite end of the ‘gym’.  These tables that had the aqua blue stools attached and when not in use and folded, stood about 10’ high, they were like up-side-down Vs an the only thing touching the floor were wheels.  I’m sure there was a mechanism on them that locked them in the upright position but as a kid, I often thought of the dangers of playing under and around these.   And we were often warned by the teacher’s aides to not go near them. EVER!  One time, I remember one of my classmates was sprinting toward the tables and I  heard an ear piercing bang.  By the time I turned my 10 year old head to see, I caught the table on its bounce up from hitting the concrete floor once.  I needed no warning after that.  I wanted no part in doing anything with or near those tables.

Later, in life I had learned to not like the coal region for one reason or another. Honestly, no good reason.  Until I had to work out there. I was a nurse’s aide and had been working for an agency which placed me in various healthcare facilities all over the area.  I worked at the Shamokin Hospital with some of the nicest people I have ever met.  If I could remember their names, I’d give them all kudos, for getting me started in my current field.  Dean and I often talk about how that is the only area near us that has culture.  Defined more by living than the things one  area has.  Though, I don’t necessarily want to reside there, I find the people very entwined with their families and neighbors alike.  A lot of people and things get a ‘bad wrap’ here for how they live but I  notice that a number of the people who I have met from there are sincerely dear people.  Tight with family and religion interested in helping out a fellow human and still holding on to traditions that previous generations have set.

In our outings, Dean has done an number of things.  When he was learning how to take and process HDRs we made a trip out toward Shamokin; and in search of some interesting dilapidated architecture we found a gem in some old mining territory.