All that remains

Photojournalism
  • Aperture: f/8
  • Focal Length: 80mm
  • ISO: 160
  • Shutter: 1/200 sec
  • Camera: NIKON D80
A shredded flag hangs on a street sign in Tuscaloosa following the F-4 tornado that ripped through the town on April 27, 2011, killing 44 people. (Photo by Carmen K. Sisson/Cloudybright) (Carmen K. Sisson/Cloudybright)

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Tuscaloosa, Alabama

April 2009. A paper I love prints its last issue.

July 2009. A man I love packs his things and walks away.

February 2010. I lay two house keys on the kitchen counter, and I leave the city I’ve called home for 19 years. For lack of anything better to do, I head to New Orleans.

March 2010. It’s cold and the rain never seems to stop falling. I move back to Mobile.

March 2010. Oh, that’s why I lost everything I loved. I understand now, I think to myself.

May 2010. Somewhere in West Virginia, I realize I was wrong.

January 2011. I gain a client.

April 10, 2011. I lay one house key on the counter, and I leave Mobile.

April 11, 2011. I get a job in a new state. I move to a new apartment. I lose a client.

April 27, 2011. An F-5 tornado destroys most of Tuscaloosa.

May 2011. I gain a few friends. I lose a few friends. I buy a few things. I write.

June 2011. My mama calls me. I’m late for work, stressed and harried as I walk Cowboy. I think she’s calling to remind me to pay my speeding ticket. She tells me my grandpa is dead.

My world goes black.

“It’s understandable,” my ex says. “You’ve been through a lot of changes in the past two years.”

A song on the radio makes me cry: You must think I’m strong to give me what I’m going through. Well forgive me, forgive me if I’m wrong, but this looks like more than I can do on my own…

Yeah, I think. Yeah.

I should write something profound. My grandfather deserves that much. But I find myself mute. Another song that plays on the same radio station comes to mind: I lift mine eyes unto the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of Heaven and Earth…

Music — and Cowboy — are where I find comfort. I write, but there is no heart in my writing. I shoot, but there is no soul in my images.

I thought I would make a slideshow. Write down the flood of memories that my tears won’t seem to wash away. But no. Not yet. Maybe never.

It gets easier, people say. I want to ask when, but instead I say nothing.

I have no words.

Music: Praise You in this Storm by Casting Crowns (lyrics)

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About the image

A shredded flag hangs on a street sign in Tuscaloosa following the F-4 tornado that ripped through the town on April 27, 2011, killing 44 people. (Photo by Carmen K. Sisson/Cloudybright)

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