Over the summer I didn’t really get a chance to visit the Ohl family trailer where I have been photographing sporadically for about a year now. I had gone down there a few times alone and made some work that I liked but when I was there by myself it felt cold. I wanted to go when family would be there the place doesn’t come alive until my grandparents show up. I think it’s because when they are there I can see what they love about it. In a way I’m able to connect with them by seeing what makes them happy and allowing myself to enjoy the place in the same way they do. They hadn’t been at the trailer all summer due to my grandfathers’ constant battle with cancer and my grandmother going through knee surgery and the rehabilitation process for that.  However a few weeks ago I received news that my grandfather had past the point of no return with his illness, his liver failed and doctors did what I only thought they did in the movies they gave him an expiration date, so to speak,  they  told him he doesn’t have much longer to live. So he decided he wanted to go to the trailer. My father and my two uncles brought him up that next weekend. My brother and I took a long weekend and drove down to visit and spend some time with him there. I took my camera to document the time there but I found it very difficult to make photographs that weekend, I didn’t want the camera to be present but I knew I needed to photograph. I decided I would take a maximum of three portraits of my grandfather throughout the three days I was there, I guess I didn’t want my grandfathers memories of me to be me annoying him with a camera in his face. I only made two of the three portrait limit I had set. The first was at the original hunting cabin about 10 or 15 minutes away from where the trailer is now. It’s a humble little red cabin in the middle of the woods that shows a lot of wear and looks as if a stiff breeze might blow the thing over. The second Portrait was after what I saw to be the most triumphant action of the three days I spent there, when my grandfather  made his way onto the porch strapped with his 357 magnum revolver and unloads round after round into a water bottle my uncle had thrown into the yard for him to shoot at. After that he holstered the revolver and sat down to rest and enjoy the late afternoon sun for a few moments. It was great to see him like that rather then sitting in the trailer moving slowly and feeling defeated.

I feel like this situation is not unique. Everyone experiences death in the family but now for me it just became real, something tangible, something palpable, and I am witnessing the effects it’s having on all of my family members, my cousins, uncles, aunts and especially my dad. I could see it on his face I could see it on everyone’s faces. In a family that likes to hide their emotions and suppress their feelings, I could see it.