Books by Eric Douglas

Thriller fiction and Non-fiction

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You are here: Home / Archives for Photography

Visiting the 9/11 Memorial in NYC

June 22, 2012 By Eric Douglas

I still remember where I was when I saw the first plane crash into the twin towers. I was on vacation, on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, watching Good Morning America. The show was about to go off and we were preparing to go out on the beach. We didn’t move for four hours that morning. I remember feeling stunned, shocked and sad. I remember anger, too. I remember thinking that the world had irrevocably changed. I’m sure my memories are no different than most everyone’s who saw those terrible events unfold.

I also watched the unveiling of the memorial in New York City on the 10th anniversary of the attacks. It was impressive and touching, but I couldn’t get a grasp on the place. I wasn’t sure how it made me feel to be honest. Last week, on the way home from our honeymoon, we had some time in New York and took the opportunity to visit the memorial for ourselves.

The site itself is impressive, full of silence, except for the sound of water raining down into the foundations where the towers once stood. There was a large crowd there, but it never got loud. People were talking and you heard the occasional laugh, of course, but everyone present seemed to be mindful of the place. I watched a man take a rubbing of a name, wondering if it was a friend, a relative or what. Not for any lyrical reason, but the chorus to the song Tears in Heaven kept running through my mind. It struck me that the water in the two fountains represented the tears cried since the attack.

I will freely admit I got choked up a couple times as I walked along. Mostly the feeling got to me when I saw a woman’s name followed by “and her unborn child.” My daughters were 10 months old and “in utero” respectively on the day of the attack. I noticed it many times.

The memorial site itself is extremely secure. You just can’t walk onto these hallowed grounds like Arlington National Cemeter in Washington DC for example. To visit, you have to reserve a space. You can do it online or show up and see if the time slot you want is open. It’s free, but you have to have a ticket. Even then, with your name on the ticket, you have to pass through three or four checkpoints, produce a “government-issued ID” and go through an X-ray screening of your bags. I assume this heightened screening is to stop someone from defacing the memorial or from trying to make a political display there…adding insult to injury.

The members of the New York Police Department who stood guard inside the memorial grounds appeared serious and edgy. They definitely did not have the look of someone on guard duty who was bored or slacking off. They certainly will never forget the events of 9/11.

On the other hand, it was good to see One World Trade Center gleaming beside the memorial. I know there was a lot of debate about whether to build anything on the site at all, but I think it was for the best to rebuild. Other than being an enormous building in a city full of them, it is highly symbolic about our will to rebuild from tragedy.

I’ve had the good fortune to visit both the memorial at the Pentagon in Washington DC and now the one in NYC. At some point, I’ll probably visit the monument in Pennsylvania for Flight 93, although all of the victims from the Pentagon and all four planes are represented in New York as well. It seems as if many people want to make a pilgrimage to see the name of Todd Beamer, the man who famously said “Let’s roll!” as the passengers on board Flight 93 foiled the hijacking plot. His name appears to be gilded, but it is simply where the frequent touches have polished the metal of the memorial.

I’m obviously not writing this on any anniversary or important date associated with the attack. But I think it’s just as well to remember that attack on random days throughout the year, not just anniversaries. We must never forget what extremism in any form can lead to. It leads to young babies never being born and parents never going home to be with their children, only to be remembered as a name engraved on a memorial.

As we approach the Fourth of July holiday weekend, it’s fitting to remember what this country was built on. There have been difficult times and struggles. As a nation, we have been attacked and have pulled together as a result. Lately, it seems like we’ve lost our way a little bit in the political partisanship and rancor of a process that seems off-kilter. I know the spirit of the United States is still strong. After all, that is what built this country—spirit.

Ultimately, that’s probably the purpose memorials like this one serve. Of course, they are there to help heal and to remember those who died. But they also to help us slow down and remember important events, even on random days throughout the year, to remember the time afterward when as a nation we resolved that we would never let hate defeat our country..

Filed Under: Adventure, Photography

Arlington National Cemetery

May 27, 2012 By Eric Douglas

changingguard.jpgA couple months ago, I had the opportunity to visit Arlington National Cemetery. I had been there before, but each time I visit I am struck by the power of the place.

Over the years, I’ve visited many different churches including some cathedrals churches in Europe that have been in continuous use for 500 or more years. When you walk into places like that, you feel the power of it. You feel the presence of all those emotions, the energy that has been poured into the place. You feel the presence of God. I believe even the staunchest non-believer (if he were being honest) could feel it.

IMG_3335.jpgA place like Arlington is exactly the same. Thousands of men and women have been buried there. Some died in battle, others years after their service. That doesn’t matter. Arlington, and the other cemeteries like it, are fortified and imbued with the energy that comes honor and service. And it is lovingly cared and looked after by people who revere the place and their own duty. And it is visited daily by family members and friends who remember as well.

Arlington is a national symbol, and it is a graveyard, but it is even more than that. And it has become that powerful “thing” because of the belief that the men and women interred there died for something greater than themselves. They died for duty, honor and country. They died for their brothers in arms, a bond that can actually be stronger than blood.

I’ve been conducting a series of interviews of veterans about their experiences during times of war. Nearly every one of them, no matter how much they wanted to get home and away from the war zone, has said they felt guilty for leaving their brothers behind when they left. Facing death and terror seems to draw them closer together, in spite of their fear. I spoke to a veteran of the Korean war, and his son a veteran of the Vietnam war last weekend. Both said, if it weren’t for their age they would return to service today and fight alongside our soldiers in Afghanistan. They said, simply, it was just what they felt the need to do.

IMG_3422.jpgEven though Arlington is a cemetery, I never get the feeling that it is about death. Just the opposite. It is about the lives of the men and women who served. I always find myself quiet when I walk through the gate as if feeling the weight of those lives. But when I leave, I always feel inspired and my steps are lighter. The strength of Arlington buoys me up.

Tomorrow is Memorial Day. It was created as a day to remember the lives of those who died in service to this nation…originally specific to the Civil War. Today, it has evolved to remembering everyone who has passed on whether they served or not. I don’t have an opinion on that but do believe we need to do what we can to remember those who served, every day..

Filed Under: Adventure, Documentary, Photography

Hanging out at the Vandalia Gathering

May 26, 2012 By Eric Douglas


I like going to outdoor fairs and festivals. It’s just fun to watch people, sample foods, arts and crafts and listen to live entertainment. Vandalia is a great festival held every year over the Memorial Day weekend on the grounds of the West Virginia State Capitol.There are several stages with music. And performers come to be judged on their abilities.
The thing that I find most fascinating, though, is all of the side music. Everywhere you look, small groups of performers are playing. Not to be judged or win prizes, but for the sheer joy of playing music. They just jam and play and have fun. I wish I had that sort of musical ability. To just pick up an instrument, join a group and play.

I was sort of amused, though at the musicians who made the decision to play the upright bass. This is not an easy instrument to cart around, but I saw several being used and several more being carried in soft-sided cases as back packs. It was hot, and sweaty but the musicians didn’t seem to mind. I guess that is suffering for their art. It made me think, though, that a couple of them were probably wishing they had learned to play the “fiddle” instead.

Even if country or old-time music isn’t exactly your thing, it’s worth the visit just to see the people who do show up. And get some lemonade, roasted corn, and a funnel cake….

Lying back in the grass and staring at the sky has it’s appeal, too.

 

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Filed Under: Photography

Meeting “Devil Anse” Hatfield

May 24, 2012 By Eric Douglas

In 1990, I moved to Matewan, West Virginia, to run a small weekly newspaper called the Matewan Monitor. It was my first job after Marshall. To say I was ignorant and naïve to the history in that small town would be an understatement. Fortunately for me, John Sayles’ movie about the Matewan massacre came out just a couple years before and the town had created a history center on Main Street. As a kid growing up in West Virginia, I had heard of the Hatfields and McCoys. It was a national legend. I knew it was connected to West Virginia, but not much more than that.

When I looked out the window of my small apartment in Matewan, I could see the Tug Fork of the Big Sandy River 50 feet away. The feud was literally fought right where I stood. Men from both families probably crossed the river right there. The landlord of the building where my office was located was a McCoy. There were Hatfields all over the place.

cemetery.jpgEvery week I had to drive about an hour away to Pineville, in Wyoming County, where the newspaper’s publisher had his office. I’d bring that week’s stories and photographs to the office and put my paper together. (I still have copies of the newspapers I published in my six months there.) Along the route from Matewan to Pineville, I passed the Hatfield Family Cemetery. One day, I decided to stop.

I don’t know if the cemetery grounds have been improved since then, but back then it was a small, lonely family cemetery with a muddy road leading up the hill. And that was where I came face to face with Devil Anse himself. Anderson “Devil Anse” was the iconic leader of the Hatfield family. He was long-since dead, but he still stands tall on top of the family grave, carved from white granite. Tree sap marked his shoulders and bare head. I was surprised that the cemetery itself hadn’t been turned into a monument of sorts with tourists visiting regularly.

I had to go back to my black and white negatives to find these photographs and scan them. I’ve got tons of negatives in sleeves.

devil+anse+bw.jpgI’ve often said we (meaning West Virginians) don’t do a good job of telling our own stories. We let people come in from outside to tell our stories and then we complain when they don’t get it right. That said, I’m looking forward to the telling of this epic story on the History Channel beginning Memorial Day . It’s a three day miniseries. The cast is Hollywood A-list so they have obviously put some money into it. I’m hoping they do the story justice. There is a tremendous amount of legend that goes around the story and it would be easy to “dramatize” events for the sake of excitement.

Fortunately, the feud is long since passed into history. In contrast, in 1990, the other big story from Matewan was the massacre where townspeople had a gun fight on the town streets with coal mine guards from the Baldwin-Felts detective agency in 1920. Buildings on the street still had bullet holes in them. And too many people “knew” someone who had been involved. Many of them had grown up on family stories sitting around the living room with their grandparents. They didn’t like to talk about it too much. Frankly, that story probably required an outsider to come in and make that film—Sayles is from New York.

Still, there are smaller stories here that are just as important and just as powerful. We need to tell those stories and know our own history, no matter how fresh or how painful. I want my daughters to be proud of their heritage and understand their home. I want them to know about things in their own backyards and not naively visit someplace (like I did) without knowing what had happened there.

So, I’ll be watching the miniseries and will encourage my girls to watch it with me. I hope Hollywood does a good job with the story. Is it pretty or noble? No. It’s not. But it is our history and something to know about and understand..

Filed Under: Photography

Super Moon and photography

May 6, 2012 By Eric Douglas

IMG_3850.jpgI prefer taking photographs of people. That in no way minimizes my impression of photographs  OF things. I like all photographs…or, well most of them. Even the ones I don’t like, I respect. But I’m just never comfortable making photographs of things. Last night was one of those nights where you just HAVE TO.
On the other hand, I’ve always had a weakness for night photography. I love how light makes things look different at night. For me, it’s the same as night diving. A dive site you’ve been on a thousand times looks totally different at night. I’ve always been a bit of a space junkie, too, so a chance to combine night photography with moon photography overcame my general disinterest in “thing” photography.

IMG_3850.jpgLast night’s Super Moon almost wasn’t. It rained all day and was still cloudy as the moon was beginning to rise. In spite of that, I took off last night to see what I could see. At first I couldn’t see a thing. I drove down Kanawha Boulevard, heading west, so I could turn around and drive back toward the moon. As I turned, I saw the moon poking out behind some clouds. I immediately pulled into a side street and ran across the boulevard. I made a number of images from that spot, but the moon continued to rise so

capitol+moon.jpgI moved on. I decided to drive up to the Capitol grounds to see what I could find.
I was walking along the Capitol grounds looking for a good angle to get the gold dome with the moon when I ran into a woman taking a photographs. She was nicely dressed and said she had just been at a play. Her daughter was in the car waiting for her.

She was using her cell phone to take a picture. She mentioned a couple times that her Canon was in the car, she just needed something for Facebook. She asked me if I was in a camera club or something. I said, no, I’m just a photographer. Her response was, “I just love photography. It’s an art.” She went back to her car at that point. No doubt she posted the picture before she left the parking lot.
I am not overly thrilled with any of these images. They’re okay, but not all that special. I’m sure a fair number of people got better images than I did last night. In contrast, I’m sure the woman loved the picture she took with her cell phone. And I guess that is ultimately the point. She was right. Photography is art. There is technique to it, but there is also passion and excitement. When you are excited about what you’re doing, that passion comes through in the finished product.
We all have to do whatever fires our imaginations and gets us excited. Whatever that is. It can be art, music, sports or whatever. Doesn’t matter. When we do that thing that makes us happy, it’s magic. I’m sure I’ll continue taking photographs of “things” from time to time. Maybe someday, I’ll find that passion and excitement for it. If not, there are enough people I can photograph to keep me busy..

Filed Under: Photography

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Real Thugs: A Cult of Murder — Small groups of travelers have disappeared all over the mid-Atlantic without a trace. When bodies turn up with what appear to be ritual markings, FBI Agent AJ West is on the hunt for what might be a serial killer. Or something even more sinister. It’s a race against […]

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