The first thing you notice, is that the dead do not move. They seem alive, sort of, from a distance, but somewhere in the back of your mind, there's a cognative dissonance, a subliminal awareness in your subconscious that something is terribly, terribly wrong. It's like watching shadows in the moonlight - it's very hard to focus. Then it hits - they aren't breathing, moving, twitching; you know, those subtle cues that the back of your brain stores away for so long, but never really brings to your attention. And you touch them - and they're cold.
Many years of this - I photographed them, ones who had made the transition that none of us could understand or follow, for a time. Homicides, suicides, fatal traffic accidents, accidents. And sometimes, after the photos came back, I'd look at them, and compare them in my mind to the things I had seen - the young teenage kid killed in a car wreck, a young girl's brused and battered leg impaled on the wreckage - I will never, ever forget that one.
Sometimes, I don't know why, the photos are worse, in their own way, than viewing the real thing in person - but only sometimes.
Everything below this line is a signature:
Quit trying to be logical - It just gets in the way!!!
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(Bob in Reno)
Must use Buy It Now and PayPal.
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Z0rOHBLiY3toO,!~~_7.JPG "teach*here")
I still miss him a lot, but my memories of him are still sharp and I smile when I remember him now instead of cry (most of the time).
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