The year in images

It is always easy to strike up a conversation with a Mainer. Regardless of where you are and the time of the year, one can always compliment or complain about the weather. We can reassure tourists that they are lucky to catch the warm spell and scare them a minute later by describing our life here in the wintertime by painting a picture when the pretty little lake they are soaking their feet in is covered with ice a foot thick.

I’m not going to pretend to have much experience in the way of life here, because I’m just another guy from away. I came here as a tourist several years ago and, like many others, immediately fell in love with the place. I moved when the opportunity arrived in the form of a job at the Bangor Daily News.

I came here and wanted to experience all I could about the Maine way of life – from the work of fishermen to the winters and how to use a wood stove. I’m happy that I have been able to keep the sensitivity of a newcomer who finds the life here interesting and am always glad to hear stories or advice. That curiosity helps to fuel the interest we photographers have in other people.

We meet someone new every day and share stories of people or photo shoots we’ve had. The commitment to the storytelling comes from the individual photographers here at the newspaper, but the variety comes from the events we go to and the people we meet.

One of the most powerful experiences of my life came in 2005. I was one of three people the BDN sent to the South to document Mainers participating in the relief effort after Hurricanes Katrina and Rita. It is hard, if not impossible, to describe what I saw there. Imagine all the sad and tragic stories that were in the papers and on television, and imagine having to tell similar ones over and over thousands of times. You might think, “We have heard that story already.” But even at that point all we know is a small fraction of the whole story, of people who lost everything. I have seen the streets of a town where I could not tell where the houses were – even some of the foundations were washed away. Large crowds of people had to start their lives over with nothing.

Having seen the devastation of the hurricanes will always make me feel better about my own life, and I hope I will complain less about things. Nothing I own is perfect, but it is still there, and I can go to work and head home, and I am where I want to be. This is my fourth winter here, and I’m ready for the coldest of days. By this time of the year my firewood is cut and split, I’ve gotten rid of the leaves in my backyard, and I’ve even dusted off my skis. The only thing I surely will complain about is the weather. After all, I have the license to do so because I live in Maine.