A Salt Lake City portrait photographer’s diary on the wildland firefighter tragedy, drought conditions, and finding the right frame of mind again
Had a nine o’clock family portrait booked this week, four kids under ten and two exhausted parents wanting something nice for the Christmas cards already, bless them for planning that far ahead. Twenty minutes before they arrived I heard the procession was passing near downtown, the wildland firefighters killed in that helicopter crash being escorted through the city, and I genuinely could not pick the camera back up for a good hour afterward. Sat in my studio with the lights already set and just couldn’t do it.
What Actually Happened With The Session
The family arrived right on schedule and I told them plainly what was going on in me, no pretending I was fine when I wasn’t. They were kind about it, waited with me a few extra minutes, and honestly the photos we ended up with had more real warmth in them than most sessions I do, maybe because everyone in the room was a little more present than usual that particular morning.
The Drought Backdrop To All Of This
Severe to extreme drought conditions across most of the state right now, which is precisely the kind of dry that turns a helicopter crash fighting wildland fire into this specific, terrible headline instead of just a close call. I’ve shot enough outdoor sessions this summer in brown grass and dust to feel that reality in my own bones, not just read it in a weather bulletin.
How This Connects To Church For Me
Sat with it at our ward gathering this week and found myself grateful, genuinely, for a community that doesn’t ask you to perform being fine. Someone just sat with me and let the quiet be quiet. That matters more than most sermons I’ve sat through, honestly, the simple willingness to not fill a silence.
Where I Land With All Of This
Back behind the camera again by Thursday, doing what I do, because that’s the job and the families keep booking regardless of what the news carried that particular week. But I’m holding those firefighters and their families in mind every time I set a light this month. Feels like the least a person can do, actually notice.