Carroll County Courthouse Massacre

Carroll County Courthouse -- Scene of the Massacre

The hills and hollows around Hillsville Virginia haven’t changed that much in 100 years. There’s a few more house tucked away, small family farms and gardens still dot the landscape and the forests are full of elm, tulip, oak and other trees that make a nice popping crackle when they’re burned in a woodstove on a cold, wet winter day.

And people still talk about the massacre. Called variously, “The Hillsville Tragedy”, “The Carroll County Massacre”, or “The Tragedy at the Courthouse”, old men in bib-overalls, mothers shopping with toddlers down on Main Street and the suits in their offices still talk about – and debate – what happened March 14, 1912.

While the story is simple, it’s profound and complicated in its simplexes. The facts that everyone can agree on are almost non-existent. There was a man named Floyd Allen. He was on trial in 1912. As far as agreed upon events, that’s about the limit. The rest is debated. Sometimes hotly but most often fodder for conversation between friends over a cup of coffee at The Hillsville Diner just down the street from where the events took place.

And like the biggest part of town, many who were around that day are gone. The last of the rugged mountain individuals who knew any of the principles in this small town tragedy died a long time ago. Getting old is the next generation. The sons and daughters of the people who knew the players on a first name basis. Soon this generation will be gone also and like so many other stories told around the hills and hollows, the Carroll County Massacre will be reduced to a fable that people begin by saying, “I remember my father talking about stories that my grandmother told me about….”

Except this story may never die. With the exception of the facts as held in trust by a handful of Hillsville citizens today, most of the story has morphed. Important facts that are key to the story have not been forgotten, they’ve just taken on multiple meanings as they’ve been shared again and again. Like an old college paper that is copied and recopied and recopied, the truth still exists somewhere, but has become blurred through the repeated telling. And with each successive telling of the story, people become more entrenched that their particular version is the truth.

Floyd Allen was a curmudgeon. He was either the meanest man that ever cast a shadow on the dirt that was Main Street in 1912 or he was proactive in protecting himself, his family and his possessions from people, places and things that threatened him and what he loved. Floyd was brought to trial for freeing two of his nephews that had previously escaped into North Carolina to avoid probable prosecution.

Spectators started lining up early. They gathered around one of the two wood stoves in the courtroom that provided heat. The logs in each stove cracked and popped as the heat rose. Half of the crowd wanted to see Floyd get his comeuppance. Half wanted to see him stand up to the power brokers. All arrived with heightened expectations of trouble and violence. Tensions were on edge. Nerves were raw. The slightest word, gesture or noise could ignite this tinderbox that had been smoldering for decades.

Documents and existing interviews with eyewitnesses say the trial went smoothly until Floyd was found guilty. The judge directed the Sherriff to “take charge of the prisoner.” Sherriff Webb stepped forward. Something popped.

Whose gun was fired? Was it even a gunshot that touched off the tragedy known variously as “The Hillsville Tragedy”, “The Carroll County Massacre”, or “The Tragedy at the Courthouse”?

Whatever the touch point was that created chaos, the results were the same. Within seconds, 57 shots had been fired. Four people lay dead – one more would die tomorrow. Seven people were wounded. The spectators – estimated by some to be as many as 200 – fell over each other in the stampede to get out of the two narrow doors that led to the stairs that led to the street.

The hills and hollers around Carroll County are quiet today. The sounds of the posse and hounds that tracked the suspected are gone now – having drifted off that wet day in March in 1912. Normally the only sound you hear in the woods around Hillsville is the occasional oak, birch or poplar limb hitting the ground before it’s picked up to be put into a wood stove where it will pop and crackle.

Jerry Nelson is a nationally recognized photojournalist and adventure photographer. His work has appeared in many national, regional and local publications including CNN, USAToday, Upsurge, Earthwalkers and Associated Content and he is a regular contributor to Huffington Post as well as OpEdNews. Nelson travels the country seeking out the people, places and things that make America unique and great. Nelson currently is in Washington D.C. pointing his camera at OccupyDC and freelancing for The Washington Times the second largest paper in the nation’s capital.

CLICK HERE to see more of Nelson’s work or to hire him for a shoot.

Peace Finds Us When We Let Go of Our Expectations

I try to always keep a book handy in the tent. Right now I’m currently reading “A River’s Tale, A Year on The Mekong” (it’s one I found in the free library in McPherson Squrare, home of OccupyDC) by former New York Times correspondent Edward A. Gargan. One of the quotes in the book really stands out so far:

“As a correspondent for Times, I found myself in cushy hotels, unworried about costs, cosseted in the certainties of an institutional structure that worried about my well being, and available to yank me out in emergency situations. Now it’s different. It’s just me and the river. I wanted to be able to get drunk, or lie at the bottom of a boat, my belly stuffed with boat-cooked chicken without having to scamper back to some hotel room to frantically file yet another newstory. Finally, intent on following my own muse, my own sense of the important, the riveting, the bizarre, the hysterically funny, the tragic, the romantic, I set out to understand Asia in a way I never had before.”

I can relate to this. My work doesn’t necessarily have the breadth and depth of many photojournalists, or say, documentary photographers who photograph one subject over the course of decades, nor does it shed light on the state of international politics. It is just a taste of a moment, a place, an experience, an interaction, and that is how I want it to be. It is my experience that when I let go of my expectations to create meaningful work, meaningful work emerges at its ripest.

Many people long to travel. They rightfully look on with envy at those of us able and ambitious to do so. But traveling, when stripped of its romanticism is, to put quite simply, a journey of the heart. There is a genuine emotional and physical rush that comes with it, the whole “wind in the hair feeling,” that lugging a backpack around into unknown territory creates. But for many people, the lack of structure can feel chaotic.

When you ask someone who has made experienced such adventures, “how was it?” they will often say “amazing,” and surely it is; the sum of all the parts is quite incredible. But the other side of the coin is: it is challenging to enjoy each moment and be fully present and engaged with whom you cross paths, because paradoxical to that “wind in the hair feeling,” is a feeling of being immersed in nothing but your own reality, simply trying to survive your day. Where am I going to eat? Wait, this is raw chicken? When does the last bus leave? WHERE AM I?

In many ways, it is much more challenging to stay present while traveling, even though when many travelers’ retell their tales, they will say “I was just like, totally in the moment man….” Because that’s how we would like to remember our journeys regardless of where they take us or how far we venture out of our hometown…the trick is really being there, and living out that truth.

I said to someone the other day, I love people… but I love traveling alone. It’s true, there’s nothing like it. But every once in a while, when you wake up to a beautiful sunrise in the mountains with no one next to you to enjoy it, you have to give yourself a little push, to once again let go of expectations and fantasies and just be… just be your own witness and relish the experience that you, and you alone are having.

This trip will definitely not always go as I imagine, and I won’t complete all I set out to do, and I’m ok with that. Peace finds us when we let go of our expectations.

Jerry Nelson is a nationally recognized photojournalist and adventure photographer. His work has appeared in many national, regional and local publications including CNN, USAToday, Upsurge, Earthwalkers and Associated Content and he is a regular contributor to Huffington Post as well as OpEdNews. Nelson travels the country seeking out the people, places and things that make America unique and great. Nelson currently is in Washington D.C. pointing his camera at OccupyDC and freelancing for The Washington Times the second largest paper in the nation’s capital.

CLICK HERE to see more of Nelson’s work or to hire him for a shoot.

The Battle for Blair Mountain Continues

Tom Johnson reached into the corner between the pie safe and icebox. The Springfield rifle that he had brought home with him from the war was still standing there safe. He kissed his wife, Sally, good bye, telling her not to worry. Peeking in on his daughter, Elizabeth, before stepping outside, he silently pulled the door shut behind him and walked into history.

Waiting on him outside were his friends, Buddy and Alan. They had left their homes higher in the mountain to help out. Slowly in the darkness as the last light from the full moon faded they made their way down the goat path and into the hollow where they were joined by other miners.

Like a mountain spring that forms a trickle that joins with other trickles to form a creek that joins with others to form a river, they came. They came slowly but deliberately. From every hollow and depression in this forgotten section of West Virginia they came. Like a raging torrent of river the miners gained momentum as they gathered and walked along, the miner’s were on a mission.

Brutal and unfair working conditions in the West Virginia coalfields had been stirring the passion of 10,000 union miners. The spark that fired the tinderbox was the mine owner sanctioned murder of Matewan Police Chief Sid Hatfield. Hatfield had been a friend of miners since the coal companies started trying to evict striking workers from their homes.

On August 2nd, 1921, ten thousand miners assembled at Charleston in preparation for a march over rugged mountain terrain to rescue illegally imprisoned miners in Mingo County.

As the miners waited and the rebellion grew, tension rose. They didn’t know that entrenched along the ridges of Blair Mountain was a private army led by Logan County Sheriff, Don Chafin. Chafin had the backing of the coal operators. The insurrectionists only had their anger to empower them.

When the two armies collided atop Blair Mountain both sides were armed with machine guns, Springfield rifles and dynamite. After four days of heaving fighting – during which a million rounds of ammunition had been fired – the U.S. Army arrived and stopped the bloodshed.

When in 1933, FDR finally gave labor unions the legal right to organize, the leaders of the March on Blair Mountain leaped into action. With lightning speed and efficiency the leaders organized the West Virginia southern coalfields. These same miners who had fought bravely went on to become the central founders of the United Auto Workers United Steel Workers.

It’s no exaggeration to say that the Battle for Blair Mountain can be seen as the base of the emergence of the American idle class of the 1960s and was the Gettysburg of the labor movement. The mountain though has lain for years – unmarked and forgotten – and now is threatened with obliteration by strip mining.

To help preserve Blair Mountain and the important labor heritage, a group of volunteers has assembled to start a community center and museum. The building is located in historic Blair, WV and formerly held a church.

It will take much work and resources for the building to be used as a community center and museum. Serious infrastructure improvement needs exist for now. A leaky roof needs fixing and drinkable water and heating are in short supply. Long term donations of showcases, frames and display cases are need for the museum portion. It’s estimated that the improvements and renovations will cost more than $10,000.00. A site has been set up to collect donations and a wide range of premiums are available to anyone interested in helping.

Meanwhile, the ridgeline of Blair Mountain sits quiet and lonely. A park has been proposed to commemorate the historic value of the site and the surrounding terrain already has access roads and ATV trails already in place.

Because of the threat of encroaching strip mining, the park remains a dream. Since the mid 90s, citizens have tried repeatedly to place Blair Mountain on the National Register of Historic Places. The influence of coal companies in WV state politics has stopped all efforts. Strip mining permits currently in place will allow Blair Mountain to be mined without legal recourse.

A campaign to save Blair Mountain has been growing in recent years, culminating in the summer of 2011 with a modern March on Blair Mountain. One thousand union miners and mountain activists gathered to urge state and federal governments to save this one mountain and its history.

The trickle of volunteers is slowly joining with other trickles. The determination with which descendants of the original miners – along with their friends and supporters – is only matched by those that joined with Tom Johnson that August morning in 1921.

Jerry Nelson is a nationally recognized photojournalist and adventure photographer. His work has appeared in many national, regional and local publications including CNN, USAToday, Upsurge, Earthwalkers and Associated Content and he is a regular contributor to Huffington Post as well as OpEdNews. Nelson travels the country seeking out the people, places and things that make America unique and great. Nelson currently is in Washington D.C. pointing his camera at OccupyDC and freelancing for The Washington Times the second largest paper in the nation’s capital.

CLICK HERE to see more of Nelson’s work or to hire him for a shoot.

Open Letter to Congressman Darrell Issa — Please read and pass it on!

Darrell –

I’ve stood up for you.  I’ve told my friends that you were not a candy-ass, yuppie and that you would man up and talk with me face-to-face about some issues that concern both of us.

We need to have a come-to-Jesus meeting about this situation that you’ve created regarding the presence of OccupyDC in McPherson Square.

Please forgive the impersonal nature of having to address some issues with you through email. I went to your office on Capitol Hill to invite you down to Starbucks for a cup of coffee so we could discuss this man-to-man, but your Chief of Staff told me you were out of the office.

We have several issues to hash out.

Money. You’ve kind of misled folks about the money that was spent refurbishing McPherson Square. You’ve correctly stated that $400,000.00 in stimulus money was spent in the summer of 2011 to get the park looking pretty and do some upgrades on infrastructure. What you’ve forgotten to tell people is that only $8,000.00 was for grass and sod. And it’s my understanding that the grass and sod are the only things you mention that have been destroyed. Tell ya what Darrell – I’ll ask each of my 5000 friends on Facebook to send you five quarters. That’ll put $6,250.00 back. I’m sure with the $450 MILLION dollars that you have, you can surely help out with the other $1750.00. Hell, just dig around the cushions in your sofa, I’m sure you can find it there.

Rats. Buddy, I’ve been coming to Washington DC regularly since I was about six years old. I’d come up here with my parents about twice a year to see Aunt Mary and Uncle Richard. There’s not too many parts of the district that I haven’t seen. And I tell you what – there’s rats all over Washington DC. Just take a stroll through any part of the town after dark and you’ll see the little four legged creatures scurrying around. If you didn’t realize it, there were rats in the park before OccupyDC came to town, how come you didn’t express concern then. And talking about rats, we had tons of ‘em in a little place in southeast Asia called Vietnam. I never heard you speak out once about the disease that they were brining there. Is that because your buddies were becoming rich selling arms and munitions to the military and you wanted to keep that “occupation” going as long as you could?

Darrell, everyone in D.C. knows that you’re the wealthiest person in Congress. Let’s talk about your $450 million. Could you explain to me the mysterious warehouse fire that happened at your company back in 1982. Remember that one of your employees, Joey Adkins, told insurance investigators that prior to the blaze he had seen you removing the company’s computers as well as all the computer hardware, software AND the diskettes that contained all the company’s customer records and financial information?

Joey also told the investigators that the silkscreens that were used in the production of the circuit boards had also been placed in a fireproof box – something that had never been done previously. This apparently got the investigators curious because they determined that a short time before the fire, you had more than quadrupled the company’s fire insurance coverage. Maybe your memory is short, so you can re-read all about it in the January 20, 2011 issue of The New Yorker. A fellow named Ryan Lizza talks about all this in an article called “Don’t Look Back”.

So Darrell, get back to me and let me know when we can get together for that cup of coffee. I can give you 300 million reasons why OccupyDC needs to be allowed to stay. You can’t give me one good reason why it has to leave.

Darrell, don’t make a liar out of me.  Don’t let my friends be right when they say you’re a candy-ass yuppie.  Let’s get together this week down at the Starbucks on Vermont Street.

I’ll leave the lights on for you.

Yours truly

Jerry Nelson
704-914-5424
Jerry@JourneyAmerica.org

Jerry Nelson is a nationally recognized photojournalist and adventure photographer. His work has appeared in many national, regional and local publications including CNN, USAToday, Upsurge, Earthwalkers and Associated Content and he is a regular contributor to Huffington Post as well as OpEdNews. Nelson travels the country seeking out the people, places and things that make America unique and great. Nelson currently is in Washington D.C. pointing his camera at OccupyDC and freelancing for The Washington Times the second largest paper in the nation’s capital.

CLICK HERE to see more of Nelson’s work or to hire him for a shoot.

Congressional Inquiry Into OccupyDC. My Response? “Stick It!

Violence at the convention center. Getting run over – and into – by cops on horseback. Infestation of rats in the park. Kitchen shut down. Gunfire. Protests in the street. Ankle deep mud on the National Mall. A snowstorm in January. OccupyDC has survived everything that could be thrown at it. And the encampment is still here in McPherson Square at the corner of 15th and K Street in Washington DC.

Now here comes Darrell Issa, (R-CA). Apparently Mr. Issa is “concerned” about the protesters in the park and he wants to know why they’ve been allowed to stay so long. He’s called for a congressional inquiry to search out answers to the question, “Why has the National Park Service (NPS) allowed McPherson Square to be occupied for so long.

Even one of Mr. Issa’s senior members of the committee, Elijah Cummings (D-Md.), has called it a waste of time, money and the authority normally invested in the committee.

Here’s what Mr. Cummings said about the situation:

“Our committee has the power to achieve great benefits investigating waste, fraud and abuse on behalf of the American people,” …but investigating Occupy Wall Street protestors is a poor use of our resources and authority.”

So what’s Issa’s problem with OccupyDC? I don’t think it’s the money, although that’s precisely what Issa is saying concerns him. Apparently NPS spent $400,000.00 on improvements and infrastructure on McPherson Square last summer before the encampment was set up.

At first glance, Issa has the pocketbook of the taxpayer’s at heart, so he fired off a letter to NPS. NPS – in so many words – told Issa to “stick it”.

In a letter from NPS Deputy Director of Operations, Peggy O’Dell to Issa (and dated January 6), it was pointed out to Issa, she stated that OccupyDC is apparently within…“…previous activities that have been judged to be protected by First Amendment free speech and assembly rights.”

In the same letter, she goes on to say, ““The NPS … takes seriously its responsibility to protect the resources that have been entrusted in its care. First Amendment activities, however, often come with a measure of wear and tear on our national parks, not dissimilar to what results from frequent and high-volume use by visitors and tourists to our parks in the National Capital Region and around the country.”

Odell continues in her letter to Issa, “… that of the $400,000 stimulus grant, only $8,000 was used to re-sod the park with new grass. The rest…was spent on “hardscape improvements that have not, to [her ] knowledge, been damaged over the course of the demonstration.”

Wrapping up her letter, Ms. Odell gives Issa the Congressional version of the barroom taunt, “Let’s step outside”. Instead of answering Issa’s lengthy list of questions,Odell told him “ …the Park Service would be happy to brief the committee in more detail.”

I’d be glad to second that, but with one exception. My response? C’mon Mr. Issa, let’s step outside.

Jerry Nelson is a nationally recognized photojournalist and adventure photographer. His work has appeared in many national, regional and local publications including CNN, USAToday, Upsurge, Earthwalkers and Associated Content and he is a regular contributor to Huffington Post as well as OpEdNews. Nelson travels the country seeking out the people, places and things that make America unique and great. Nelson currently is in Washington D.C. pointing his camera at OccupyDC and freelancing for The Washington Times the second largest paper in the nation’s capital.

CLICK HERE to see more of Nelson’s work or to hire him for a shoot.

OccupyDC As I See it: I Got Thrown Out

 

I got thrown out of the Capital Hilton this evening. Probably won’t make my mother proud, but that is my latest claim to fame. You may find this hard to believe, but I didn’t do anything wrong.

Here’s what happened.

Knowing that the US Mayor’s Conference is being held this week at The Capital Hilton at the corner of 16 and K streets here in Washington DC I got online and registered for a media pass so I could get some shots from the inside of the venue. And yes, I was hoping to get some shots on the outside also. Folks from OccupyDC have been protesting in front of The Hilton all week long. Today there was a little trouble in front of the hotel, so when I got there Washington cops had formed a line around the building not letting anyone other than staff – and mayors – in and out.

I went up to the closest cop and gave him my business card with my name and told him I needed to get my media pass which was inside. He called for the media co-coordinator – a guy named Joseph. Joseph met me at the curb took my ID and said he’d be back out in a second. He was going in to verify my “story”. About five minutes later, Joseph came back outside and escorted me inside and upstairs to the media room where my Mayor’s Conference media pass was waiting on me.

Keep that in mind – THE MAYOR’S CONFERENCE MEDIA PASS WAS WAITING ON ME.

I set my gear bag down, dialed in the camera and clipped the badge onto my vest. I went back down stairs, outside, through the police line and was getting some shots of the protesters out front as I took some shots and smoked a cigarette. Knowing some of the protesters, I spoke to them a minute or so and then started to head back inside to go up to the media room.

Joseph met me at the entrance of the hotel, took my media pass and told me, “Since you’re with them [pointing to the protesters] we’re taking your pass. Give it to me.” I was so stunned and shocked that I wasn’t able to come up with one of my patented retorts and cute comments. Just stood there in disbelief as he revoked the media pass he personally had handed me ten minutes before.

I told him my gear bag was still upstairs and described it to him. He went inside, got the gear bag and brought it to me. Figuring that it wasn’t a fight worth fighting, I strolled away puzzled by what had just happened.

I’m still trying to figure it out.

Jerry Nelson is a nationally recognized photojournalist and adventure photographer. His work has appeared in many national, regional and local publications including CNN, USAToday, Upsurge, Earthwalkers and Associated Content and he is a regular contributor to Huffington Post as well as OpEdNews. Nelson travels the country seeking out the people, places and things that make America unique and great. Nelson currently is in Washington D.C. pointing his camera at OccupyDC and freelancing for The Washington Times the second largest paper in the nation’s capital.

CLICK HERE to see more of Nelson’s work or to hire him for a shoot.

World Children’s Choir Rocks the House

World Children's Choir

The “welcomes” and introductions were finished. The obligatory responsive reading was completed. The “housekeeping” chores such as announcements had been finally dispatched.

About thirty young people seated in the first four pews of Washington D.C.’s First Baptist Church rose as one. Quietly lining up they ascended the four steps leading to the chancel, turned, faced the people gathered and set the church on fire.

The occasion was the annual celebration of Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday. Speakers of international reknown were present. Leaders of each of the world’s great religion were on hand to share briefly their particular outlook on MLK and his impact on the world.

But the highlight of the day was easily the kids. Performing a combination of spirituals, traditional hymns and modern gospel songs, the kids rocked the house. They had the confidence that comes only from performing in venues from Carnegie Hall to The White House.

The World Children’s Choir (WCC) gives a voice to children worldwide. Through music, the WCC promotes positive international relations by asking people to work together to create a peaceful and healthy world for children. The young men and ladies of the WCC use art and music to explore cross-cultural differences and become peacemakers.

Founded in 1990 by the current Artistic Director and Chief Executive Officer, Sondra Harnes, the WCC brings brings children from many cultures and nations together in song. Seeds of a more peaceful world are sown and lives – of all ages – are enriched.

Some of the high-powered individuals that the choir has performed for include former U. S. presidents George W. Bush, Bill Clinton, and George H. W. Bush; President Barack Obama; Queen Noor of Jordan, Queen Sofia of Spain and Justices of the United States Supreme Court. Besides Carneigie Hall and The White House, they have performed at The Kennedy Center, Capitol Hill and national and international television broadcasts. In between all this, they have also participated in international concert tours and cultural exchanges.

Highlights include:
* Singing with a Scottish rock band as the Million Mom March demonstrators arrived on the National Mall
* Three White House Millennium performances in 14 hours
* Frank Foundation dinner at Embassy of Russia – WCC presented its Voices for Children Award to Mikhail Gorbachev
* Singing in the National Missing Children’s Day Ceremony, held at the U. S. Department of Justice during National Missing and Exploited Children’s Week.

With choir headquarters located in Annandale, Virginia, the WCC will continue to travel the world in 2012 bringing the message of peace and hope to children around the globe.

If you would like more information or to learn how you can help, please contact the choir office: (703) 883-0920 • info@worldchildrenschoir.org

As Harnes says, “We must dream of a world safe for children. We must dream every child can be free. Free from fear and free from pain. Free to run in the sun again. Free to play, to dance and to sing. Free to let their laughter ring. Life has blessed us and life is good to us. Now we must give, helping other’s to live their dreams.”

 

Jerry Nelson is a nationally recognized photojournalist and adventure photographer. His work has appeared in many national, regional and local publications including CNN, USAToday, Upsurge, Earthwalkers and Associated Content and he is a regular contributor to Huffington Post as well as OpEdNews. Nelson travels the country seeking out the people, places and things that make America unique and great. Nelson currently is in Washington D.C. pointing his camera at OccupyDC and freelancing for The Washington Times the second largest paper in the nation’s capital.

CLICK HERE to see more of Nelson’s work or to hire him for a shoot.

The TV Reporter Asked Me, “Why Are You Doing This?”

At about 5:30 this morning I went to the tent to get my camera gear. As I was stepping out of the tent, a reporter with WTOP TV here in Washington stepped up to me and said, “You’re Jerry Nelson, aren’t you?” Nodding yes, I slung the bag over my shoulder and started to walk away. The last thing I wanted the first thing this morning was another reporter asking me questions.

“Could I just ask you one question, Jerry?” I glanced at him, then at the camera man that was already putting the video on the tripod and adjusting the lights to scare off the early morning darkness. As I stared at the reporter, I saw him for what he was. Just another working stiff trying to do his job and it wasn’t his fault that he had to wear a Hart Schaffner Marx suit and Gucci shoes. If you took away his combed and coiffed hair, his manicured fingernails, his clean and fresh shave and the scent of Axe, he and I were just alike. Both of us just trying to get the job done.

Sighing, I sat my gear bag down in the mud and glanced at him. Holding up one finger I nodded – “OK, one question. Anymore than one you can ask me at Starbucks – and it’s YOUR treat.”

He smiled, nodded in agreement and pointed to his videographer to start the camera. Turning back to me, he held the microphone inches from my mouth and asked his one question. “Why are you here. Why are you doing this. Why is OccupyDC so important to you.” I glanced at him and the look in my eyes must’ve said, “Sorry buddy, but that’s three questions. We’re heading to Starbucks,” because he half-smiled.

I figured his three questions were really just variations of one question, so I gave him a break. Dropping my cigarette into the mud, I watched the glowing ember slowly dissolve into the dirt soup as I thought.

Why am I here? When I got here in October no one knew if OccupyDC would last a day, a week, a month or even longer. Occupy Wall Street was still in Zuccotti Park and the shifting epicenter from the center of finance to the center of government hadn’t begun.

I believe that history is being made by OccupyDC. There has NEVER been a protest like it in the history of the country. The closest event in comparison were the “Hoovervilles” erected in urban areas throughout the country during the depression. Those shacks and shanties were built out of necessity however and not out of protest.

OccupyDC is making an impact nationally. As of this date, all of the leading Presidential candidates have started talking about the occupy movement. A relatively small group of people have managed to push the national conversation to the left. Where before a politician’s business dealings were kept private and only spoken about in hushed tones by other members of the congressional club, national television is throwing a spotlight on them.

People nationwide are becoming politically aware. According to available Facebook statistics, the number of people preoccupied with sharing music videos and cutesy photos is dropping. Rapidly taking over the top spot are links to news stories which throw additional light on the plight of the vanishing middle class.

Watching the last dying glow of the cigarette in the mud, I looked at him, smiled and said, “Everybody’s gotta be some place.”

 

Jerry Nelson is a nationally recognized photojournalist and adventure photographer. His work has appeared in many national, regional and local publications including CNN, USAToday, Upsurge, Earthwalkers and Associated Content and he is a regular contributor to Huffington Post as well as OpEdNews. Nelson travels the country seeking out the people, places and things that make America unique and great. Nelson currently is in Washington D.C. pointing his camera at OccupyDC and freelancing for The Washington Times the second largest paper in the nation’s capital.

CLICK HERE to see more of Nelson’s work or to hire him for a shoot.

Rats, Water and Tug-of-War. OccupyDC Needs Your Help

PLEASE READ CAREFULLY.  AT THE CONCLUSION THERE IS A CONCRETE WAY YOU CAN HELP OCCUPYDC.

The wind howled down the concrete canyon of 14th street. Already a sustained wind of 30 mph, it increased in gusts to over 50 mph thanks to the Venturi effect created by the buildings. Turning the corner, the tsunami of air hit McPherson Square like a runaway freight train.

Pushed in front of the mass of air was a wall of water. As the wind drove the precipitation in front of it, the water was broken up from sheets of rain into small stinging needles. With the ambient air temperature already at a low of 25 degrees and a wind chill in the low teens, tiny icicles were formed the instant the frigid ocean of air hit hair or skin.

Thankfully, I was inside the tent. But as the wind reached down with invisible hands and peeled back the tarp and blew open the doorway, I might as well been outside naked on the sidewalk. Even inside the tent under two blankets and a sleeping bag, with one side of the tent completely open and exposed to the elements, I could still see the vapor as I breathed. I wasn’t alone in feeling the perfect storm of winter as it crested and then broke in full fury onto OccupyDC. Tents were lifted into the air and then thrown back onto the ground with people inside. Smaller, empty tents were sent rolling across 15th street only to smash up against empty buildings.

As bad and as brutal as the night of December 12th was, it was only the latest in assaults seemingly aimed at dispersing OccupyDC.

OccupyDC has become the rope in a tug-of-war between the Washington DC and the federal governments. As the city government led by Mayor Vincent Gray has slowly removed resources from supporting McPherson Square, the National Parks Service has just as determinedly stood their legal ground as mandated by the US Supreme Court’s ruling that our occupation of this federal park is legal and safe from eviction.

Unable and unwilling to challenge the full might of the nation’s highest court, the city has been reduced to slowly chipping away at infrastructure put in place to house and protect the occupiers.

First to go were the pallets. Tents were initially set up on wooden pallets that served immediately as insulation from the wet ground. As winter moved in, the pallets also served as a foundation of sorts to keep sleepers from liying on the frigid earth with nothing but a micro-millimeter of nylon between them and the dirt.

Next to leave were hot meals. Deeming the existence of generators and portable gas stoves unsafe, the DC health department removed the only means the occupiers had of cooking – and then cited the encampment for not having a way to prepare hot food.

The health department wasn’t done yet. Pointing out that there were no stainless steel surfaces on which to prepare even cold food, the kitchen was left with no choice other than to start dismantling and shut down.

Not being happy yet, the Health Department started releasing statements to the local papers that the “rat population has exploded in McPherson Square” due to the presence of OccupyDC. Many people have come along-side OccupyDC and have pointed out that yes, there are many rats in the park. Due though to the number of restaurants all around McPherson Square, there have ALWAYS been a larger number of rodents in the vicinity.

The latest development? Mayor Gray has joined with Congressman Issa (R – California) in asking why hasn’t OccupyDC been shut down yet.

If these two guys would just listen, they could hear the Supreme Court talking about such constitutionally protected issues as Freedom of Speech, Right to Assemble and Due Process. In the meantime, OccupyDC is committed to the cause of speaking out on behalf on the vanishing middle class.

Those of us with blogs and a “following” are asking our supporters to help overcome these latest challenges that have been placed in the path of OccupyDC. I’m asking my followers to put a little bit of cash on my debit card. The money will be used to buy hand warmers, self-contained MREs (meals ready to eat – they heat themselves) and other basic supplies for the occupation. As a small way of saying THANK YOU, I will make sure you get a mention in the coffee table book when it comes out – hopefully in the spring.

DIRECTIONS TO ‘LOAD’ MONEY ONTO THE DEBIT CARD

#1 Go to CVS or WalMart and get a “GreenDot MoneyPak”
#2 Give the clerk the amount you want to load on the card (plus $4.95 to cover handling)
#3 Go to a computer
#4 Log onto www.MoneyPak.com
#5 Enter this number in the block marked “Reload a Prepaid Card”: 4984040001354958
#6 Click the “reload” button
#7 Scratch off the silver coating on the back of the MoneyPak Card
#8 Enter the number on www.MoneyPak.com in the space marked “MoneyPak Number”
#9 For zip code, use: 22202
#10 enter the security code and click “continue
#11 Confirm the information shown and click “reload”

OccupyDC As I See It: Why Not Just Get a Hotel Room?

The sirens are blaring 25 feet from my tent. I’ve been in D.C. long enough now that I can tell the difference between the amubulance, fire trucks and cop cars just by listening to the sirens. I’ve refined the skill even more. I can tell the difference between the Washington DC cops, the Secret Service and 15 other law enforcement agencies. Again, just by the sounds of the sirens.

Buried under three sleeping bags and two blankets to ward off the cold, I reach up and rub the sleep from my eyes. Curiously I stick one hand outside of my cocoon to do a temperature check. Just what I thought. Freezing. Freezing, bitter cold. And that’s inside my tent. I shiver involuntarily when I wonder what it’s like outside the nylon hut I call home.

I grab the fleece lined hoodie that I inherited when a friend gave up the chilly nights to move back into his apartment. Over top of that I pull on the lined “shooter’s” vest that I bought last winter in Asheville. Grabbing my hiking boots, I shake them one at a time to get rid of any rats that might have taken up residence in my size 13’s overnight.

Stumbling out of the tent in the frigid, arctic blast of Washington D.C. in January, I reach for the cigarettes and lighter that are in my pocket. Lighting one as I move down the sidewalk towards the “port-a-john” that’s meant to serve over 50 people, I think to myself that one day I’m going try to light a smoke and the flame will freeze.

Heading back to the tent to grab my gear bag, a thought keeps running through my head. “Why don’t I just give it up and get a hotel room?” It’s a legitmate question. One that has become legitimate by the hundreds of Facebook friends who ask it. It’s a question that some of the D.C. cops that are friends ask. It’s a question that I’ve been asked by CNN, CBS, ABC, Reuters, The Washington Examiner and some TV reporter from France.

It’s an easy question to ask; one that’s not so easy to answer. Rather it’s not easy to answer in a way that will be understood by people that aren’t experiencing this version of hell-on-earth. I don’t mean any disrespect to anyone by saying that. Being here in this environment and trying to make it understandable and real to people that have never – and will never – suffer through the pain of almost-frostbitten toes is akin to trying to describe the color blue to a person who’s been blind since birth.

The first and easiest response to the question of why don’t I get a room is money. Motel rooms in the suburbs are roughtly $150.00 a night. And that goes up the closer you get to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Rooms at The Capitol Hilton – a hotel 3 blocks from my tent – start at $300 a night.

The other motivations aren’t so easy to explain, but please bear with me.

Trust. In order for the occupiers to trust me, they have to see me. Because I’ve lived with them, slept with them, ate with them, played with them, worshipped with them, they know me. And because they know me they trust me. I’m allowed to turn the camera on any one of them at any time and capture anyone in their most fragile, private moments. I’m allowed to be in the midst of the mob as they violently storm the convention center or quietly march in front of The White House. Regardless of the time, activity or location, they trust me. They know I want to capture – accurately – what I see.

One example. While the major media photographers were practically shut out from the best vantage points the night of the infamous barn razing, the protestors kept shouting, “Let Jerry through! Make room for Jerry.” The protestors know that while the mainstream photographers come in for a half-hour once a week to exploit what they see, I’m living the movement. I’m in the cold and the street with them.

This trust has led to easy access. While so much of what I can say here would only be repetitive of what I said about trust, the protestors have given me unprecedented access. Access to the group meetings, the action planning committee meetings and anything else that goes on in McPherson Square. More than one time a protestor has come up to me and whispered about an action that was going to be coming down in an hour. While the mainstream media is shut out, I’m included. I’ve earned my stripes. I’ve paid my dues. I respect the protestor’s mission, they respect mine.

Having this unfettered access has led to a few humorous moments though. While I try to maintain a professional “distance” from the protestors as I work, there have been times where the line has blurred.

In November there was an action to Occupy Franklin School. As the protestors moved out with trenchcoats, black clothing and masks I was in front of the column. Walking backwards so that I could get photographs of the front of the column, the protestor’s stopped at the third intersection. Looking at me, one of the organizers asked, “Which way?”. I stopped shooting for a second; looked around to get my bearings and pointed eastward on 13th street. The organizer gave me a thumb’s up and half turned to the column. Waving his hand he yelled, “Follow me…Jerry knows which way to go”.

I smiled to myself as I continued to shoot. The line between photojournalist and activist had been blurred. Something that wouldn’t have happened if I had’ve been in that nice, comfortable $300 a night hotel room with warm showers, hot coffee and internet.

Jerry Nelson is a nationally recognized photojournalist and adventure photographer. His work has appeared in many national, regional and local publications including CNN, USAToday, Upsurge, Earthwalkers and Associated Content and he is a regular contributor to Huffington Post as well as OpEdNews. Nelson travels the country seeking out the people, places and things that make America unique and great. Nelson currently is in Washington D.C. pointing his camera at OccupyDC and freelancing for The Washington Times the second largest paper in the nation’s capital.

CLICK HERE to see more of Nelson’s work or to hire him for a shoot.