Canaan — As a photographer, the interactions I have with people often matter just as much as the actual process of making pictures.
Through photography and experiences like the one I’ve had interning for the Valley News, I’ve come to realize and appreciate that every day holds the potential to meet someone new and learn a little bit about where they come from. For me, the camera itself is a unique form of encouragement.
It’s not always easy for me to converse with someone I’ve just met, and it’s even more difficult to twice drive by what looks like a person off in the distance, stop, park, get out, and walk 100 yards to introduce myself. Being a photographer makes those efforts feel worthwhile to me, even if a great photo doesn’t result.
With this photo, what grabbed my attention was I saw a figure sitting alone in what appeared to be an open-air workshop. Winter was just around the corner and the warm sun felt like it was in dwindling supply. A good day to be outside. My father and I sometimes hang out in his shop, and I spent 10 years working as a carpenter before I became a photographer, so I suppose there was a familiarity.
I sat with Clayton Dunkerton for nearly an hour as he explained to me that he used to work in the logging business and had bought the mill as a way to make some extra income on the side. He hadn’t used it in many years. High-production equipment put a lot of the smaller mills like his out of business. Still, talking to him, I got the sense that the old, sturdy machinery somehow still offered some companionship for him.
I like to think that Mr. Dunkerton and I both understood that the other knew what it meant to work with our hands. The tools and instruments we use and the ways we are able to wield them become a point of pride that we remember and appreciate. There have been so many times like these where I don’t take as much pride in the tangible photograph as I do in the connection I made with someone I had never met before, in a place I had never been.
Photography, like many other tools I’ve used in my life, can be used in ways that are never expected.
—John J. Happel