Scenics Archives

July 6, 2011November 1, 2023

Video Crew in Cairo

Early in June I after I had written about Cairo, I received this comment from Beth Pacunas of Bettyrocks, a video production company:

“I am grateful to have stumbled upon your web site. Thank you for your beautiful photographs of Cairo. I fell in love with the town several years ago when I was there to work, and I have returned several times since to walk the streets, eat in the diner downtown, sit by the river. As a documentary filmmaker, and a myriad of other more important reasons, I am drawn to Cairo and it’s complicated story–past and present. There is a heartbeat there that refuses to silence as proven lately with the decision to save the town by blowing the levees.

I want to re-visit Cairo in July to begin this documentary that I have long dreamed about, and would very much like to speak with you prior to that. Please contact me at your earliest. Thank you.”

Beth Pacunas of Bettyrocks

Beth was honest upfront that they were shooting this as an independent project and hoping that they would find a way to make it financially rewarding. “I do not have any money at this point in time. That said, if I do get money we can outline the terms in this agreement. I really would like to use your photographs. The are beautiful in a tragic way, like an oil painting of war.”

Here’s a woman who knows how to blow in a photographer’s ear. Appeal to the ego, not the pocketbook.

Stace England was the convincer

In one of our early exchanges, I sent her a bunch of links that I thought would help her in her research, but I told her all she needed to do to understand Cairo was listen to Stace England’s songs on Greetings from Cairo Illinois.

It’s one of my listened-to CDs. Great variety of music that starts before the Civil War and General Grant’s visit, goes through the days of lynchings, the Civil Rights movement, the riots of the 60s and the decline of a once-vibrant city.

One song, The North Starts In Cairo, tells how the curtain that segregated whites and blacks on the buses coming out of the Jim Crow Southern states would come down as soon as they crossed the Ohio out of Kentucky. That surprised me. I had always considered Cairo to be as Southern as Alabama, something that has contributed to its demise.

When Beth told me that she had persuaded Stace to show up on Monday, I told her I’d be there. I wish I could have spent more time with him. He’s a genuinely nice guy.

Craig Rice and I connected

Actually, it was a literal connection. They decided to do a walk ‘n’ talk interview with me meandering through the town to find out what I’m thinking when I’m shooting.

They were using fairly low-tech equipment with a wired mike instead of a wireless, so Craig Rice and I were joined by a cable that kept me on a fairly short leash. Wife Lila will tell you that I’m a fast walker, so I got yanked back short a number of times.

Photographer shooting photographer

I was explaining to them how there are a lot of places where the building has been knocked down, but a tile floor might be left behind and that I still have a tiny piece of blue tile from this floor as a souvenir.

How did the interview go?

When they had all they could stand, Beth said, kindly, “Well, at least I didn’t have to ask you any questions.” I think that was a diplomatic way of saying I kept up a running monologue and didn’t give her an opportunity to ask any.

Jackson Liong grew up in Cairo

After finishing with me, they interviewed Jackson Liong, a young architect who came from the Philippines with his family. He lived in this small white building that had once been a doctor’s office.

He remembers when there was a Coke bottling plant at the west end of his street that produced so much traffic that there was a traffic signal where it intersected with the main drag. That and a second traffic signal a few blocks away caused drivers’ ed classes from some of the smaller towns to come all the way to Cairo so their students could experience a traffic light. There are no traffic lights in Cairo today.

When Jackson left for college and his family moved to California, Jackson’s uncle, who owned the house, turned the keys over to the city. He and I wondered why a house that was good enough to live in hadn’t been turned into a rental property or sold by the city to generate revenue. As it is, it’s being eaten by one of the largest poison ivy plants I’ve ever seen.

Zero tolerance for speeding

Crew member Tony Gerard, Jackson and I were reminiscing about how Cairo had a reputation for being a speed trap. Dad always told me that the speed limit in Cairo is 30 miles per hour, not 31.

Tony said that he read somewhere that Alexander County was the only county in the state that depended on traffic fines to meet its city payroll. Ironically, the city is so poor today that there have been times when the police department couldn’t buy gas for their cruisers. In fact, some of the cars are even provided by outside agencies.

Part of the problem, Jackson said, is that Cairo has an infrastructure that was built to support a population of 20,000; with about 2,000 people living in the town, there isn’t enough of a tax base to pay for public services.

House hides its eyes

While Bettyrocks was shooting Jackson, I turned to this house across the street. I liked the dark foliage framing the house and the way the the windows looked like they were winking at me. It wasn’t until I saw it on my computer screen that I noticed the tendrils of vine that look like bony fingers trying to cover its eyes.

Catfish at a BBQ joint?

The only place open for lunch was Shemwell’s BBQ. (Actually, there are only about three places in town to eat when it’s NOT a holiday.)

I’ve had many a barbecue sandwich in there over the years, but I was pleasantly surprised to see a sign offering catfish. After being assured by the server that the fish was good and that I wouldn’t choke on a bone (“My family will sue the owner if that happens, but I’ll haunt YOU for serving it to me.”), I gave it a try. I’ll never order barbecue there again. The catfish was great.

We’d been dodging rain all morning, but the sun was shining bright when we left Shemwell’s. As soon as I pulled out of the parking lot, this house grabbed me. I could have gone home right there and considered the day a photographic success. I love the vibrant colors and the abandoned car with the broken windows.

61 feet, point 72 inches

After leaving the Bettyrocks folks, I futzed around updating what’s left of downtown. The Ohio’s down enough that the floodgates are open and you can drive on the riverfront. Someone marked the high water mark on the floodwall.

It crested on May 2, 2011, at 61.72 feet. On the other floodwall opening, there are marks for other crests. The Grandaddy of them all had been the 1937 flood, which had reached 59.5 feet.

The sinkholes that ate Cairo

All of the pressure from those flood waters opened up sinkholes in Commercial Avenue. I’m no hydrologist, but I bet Cairo came very close to a boil or blowout that would have filled the town like a bathtub when the sewer backs up.

The spirit of the building is escaping

I paused with the crew when some movement in the broken window caught my attention. Wasps were swarming in and out of the building. Going off on a tangent that would have made my fine arts profs proud, I said that Cairo is a town of subtraction: that every time I come back, there’s a little less left. “Even the buildings look like the spirits are escaping them.”

Flag on The Fourth

With that thought, let’s move on to a gallery of photos taken on the Fourth of July. It dawns on me that except for the film crew, the folks being interviewed and a handful of people in Shemwell’s, I don’t think I spoke to but two people in the whole town. I walked the length of Commercial Ave. twice for about two hours and didn’t see a soul to talk with. There was one shirtless guy on a park bench, but he was about 100 yards away, so I’m not counting him.

I don’t know if I’m to go back to Cairo. I’m beginning to feel like a ghoul. The pictures are all starting to look the same to me. I don’t know what more I can add.

Photo Gallery of the Fourth of July in Cairo

Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right side to move through the gallery.

July 1, 2011September 22, 2011

Photo Tip: The Illusion of Speed

Many photographers think that faster shutter speeds are better. It’s true that a fast shutter speed will minimize camera shake on your end and subject movement on the far end. That’s usually a good thing. It can also be a formula for a dull photo. I was walking around Franklin School shooting an update now that construction of the new building is under way. (I’ll publish those photos in a day or so. I figure everybody is busy blowing things up this weekend, so I may hold off posting until there is someone around to see it.)

This cute little bunny rabbit was chowing down on the clover along the terrace in front of the school. I shot a quick frame and kept walking to go up the stairs to photograph the main entrance and flag pole. The bunny is reasonably sharp and relatively well exposed. It’s also not very interesting, unless, of course, you care more about bunnies than I do. (You might have a better idea what I’m talking about if you click on the image to make it larger.)

How to capture a feeling of speed

First off, I’m going to confess that this photo of the rabbit blasting out is an example of instinct and luck. I didn’t plan it. HAD I planned it, here are some things I would have done:

I would have picked a relatively show shutter speed.
I would have put the moving subject in the middle of the frame.
I would have opened the shutter when the subject was slightly less than 90 degrees from me.
I would have panned (followed) the subject at the same speed it was moving.
I would have continued the pan until I heard the shutter close.

What does panning do?

What does that accomplish? It keeps the subject recognizably sharp, but makes the background a blur. We’re used to looking out the car window and watching the scenery go by so quickly that it’s a blur. That’s how we know that we’re moving and how fast. This isn’t a great shot, but it has some interesting things helping it out.

The back ground light coming from behind the rabbit is mottled. That pattern of light and dark accentuates the feeling of blur and speed.
The backlight coming through the rabbit’s ears makes them stand out and look pink.
He’s caught in mid-hop, so the bulk of his body is stationary. You can clearly read “rabbit” from the ears and cottontail.

Why did I say it was instinct and luck? I had set the basic exposure, but left the camera on automatic. Because it was getting late in the day and I was in the shadows, the camera opted for a slow shutter speed serendipitously. When I saw the rabbit start to move, I followed the movement out of habit and practice.

I’m not a hunter, but I was a decent shot and was pretty good for an amateur the couple of times I tried shooting skeet. There’s not a whole lot of difference between shooting with a camera and with a gun. (Except that the rabbit gets to run away to eat clover another day.)

What a difference a millisecond makes

The time stamp on the photo is exactly the same as the shot above. That means they were both shot less than a second apart. It’s less successful (in my opinion). You can see the rabbit is in a different point in his hop. His hind legs are rotating down, which causes a blur within the blur of his body. His front legs must be moving back, because his fur is also a blur in a different direction. He’s moved out of the nice backlighting, so his ears aren’t as nicely defined. His head has moved to an angle where he could almost pass for a cat were it not for the cottontail. He’s also quite a way off 90 degrees from the camera, so the blur doesn’t work quite as well.

This is a technique that you don’t use often, but it’s very effective when it works and it’s not hard to do with a little practice. In the old silver film days, it cost money to practice if you actually pushed the button and exposed the film, so we’d sit on the side of the road and practice following cars as the drove by. It’s critical that you do your pan in a smooth, level movement. With digital cameras, it doesn’t cost you anything to actually press the release. Do it.

I’ve never used it, but my strobe and camera have the ability to add another dimension to this technique. You select a slow shutter speed and start your pan. When the shutter is open and you’re following the subject, you get the nice movement blur behind subject. Just before the shutter closes, the strobe will go off, freezing the subject cold. You get the best of both worlds: the illusion of speed, PLUS a tack-sharp subject at the end.

June 26, 2011March 1, 2012

Catfish Kitchen in Draffenville

On my final leg back to Cape, I was starting to get hungry. I knew I’d get home later than Wife Lila and Mother would want to wait (not even taking into consideration that I’d pick up a tired bike tourist), so I started thinking about what I wanted. Since I was on I-24 in the vicinity of Paducah, I pulled up the GPS waypoint for the Catfish Kitchen, which is near Draffenville, which is near Benton, Ky, which isn’t near much of anything.

The actual address is 136 Teal Run, about a mile south of Draffenville, Ky., off US 641. Just follow the cars. They’re open Wednesday through Saturday from 4 p.m. to 9 p.m., and on Sundays from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m. Google the restaurant and there are plenty of maps showing you the location.

Be prepared to wait

Since the folks had a trailer on Kentucky lake not far away, I’ve eaten a lot of catfish, frog legs, white beans and hushpuppies there. The only catfish around Cape that comes close to it is at Sandy’s Place at the airport on Friday night.

Because it is popular, long waits are common. That’s not such a bad thing, though. Behind the restaurant is a small lake full of fish, turtles and waterfowl. Kids and adults alike love to toss bread and hushpuppies into the water and see the size of the fish that snatch them up.

Ducks, turtles, fish and bugs

I found photos going back to 2002 without much searching. These ducks were floating around in October of that year.

Comfortable waiting room

If the weather’s not conducive to hanging around the lake or wandering outside looking at antique farm equipment, there’s a comfortable waiting room. There are plenty of toys and games to keep the kids from getting too squirmy. If they get too much out of hand, you can always feed them to the bear.

Meet Uncle Ezra

The service is fast and the servers are great about checking to see if you want refills of the unlimited white beans, hushpuppies, slaw and drinks. Mother and I took Wife Lila’s brother, John Perry over there once. They must have had to harvest another field of beans to handle his requests for refills. (I made sure to take him a half-pint of them when I left the other night.)

The inside of the restaurant is decorated with a whimsy. There’s plenty to look at while you’re waiting. The first time I saw Uncle Ezra, I thought he was real.

Antique farm machinery

You can wander around scoping out the antique farm machinery dotting the road. They have a PA system loud enough to hear your party being called, so don’t worry about losing your place in line.

Photo gallery of Catfish Kitchen

Here’s a collection of photos I’ve taken of the Catfish Kitchen over the years. Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right side to move through the gallery.

June 25, 2011September 22, 2011

Kentucky Rest Area and Tired Biker

Right outside Nashville, I hit a torrential rainstorm that lasted about 10 miles. I was glad that it waited until the outskirts of town instead of adding poor vision and hydroplaning to city traffic. By the time I got to the Tennessee / Kentucky line, I was feeling a little sleepy, so I pulled into the Welcome to Kentucky rest area near Ft. Campbell for a 22-minute nap. ( I set the alarm on my Droid for 25 minutes; it usually takes me about three minutes to fall asleep.)

It’s a nice stop with clean restrooms and friendly people working in it. I’ve shot it in all seasons and it’s pretty no matter what time of year. I KNOW I have some spring and fall pix, but couldn’t find them.

Winds were gusting

The winds weren’t as bad as the ones that nearly blew me off the road south of Atlanta, but they were gusty enough to keep you on your toes. I was glad I had the nap so I was sharp.

Ran across tired biker

Cutting across 146 east of Anna, I saw a cyclist pushing his bike up a steep hill. When I got closer, I could tell he was a tourist by the BOB trailer and the stuff he was carrying. I pulled over at the top of the hill to shoot his picture and see if he needed help. This is a stretch of road I wouldn’t like to ride: traffic is fairly light, but it’s fast, there are no shoulders, some of the hills are steep and it was the time of day when windshield glare could hide a rider.

We introduced ourselves – he was David “Laughin Wolf” Edwards – and I asked where he was headed. “You mean tonight or at the end? I’m headed home to Washington State, but I was hoping to make Cape Girardeau tonight. The way things are going, I’m going to be lucky to make it to Anna.”

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings by asking, but do you want to throw your bike on the rack? I’m headed to Cape.” His legs hurt more than his feelings, so he quickly stripped off his gear and piled it into the van. His next stop was St. Louis and the KATY Trail, so I suggested he take Rt. W, go through Altenburg, Frohna and then drop to to the Mississippi River flats to Chester.

Free-camping to save money

When we got to Cape, I asked where he wanted to be dropped off. He said that bad weather and flooding had caused him to spend all his lodging budget by May, so he was free-camping on the side of the road to save money. He defined “free-camping” as finding any place he could spread out a ground cloth and sleeping bag. Cemeteries and church yards were good places, he said. He tries to be gone before anyone even knows he’s been there.

Almost all of the places that I thought might work have been victims of development. We stopped at Jones Heritage Farms on Rt. W where a very nice woman called the owner to see if he could camp there, but he was turned down. “Maybe if he had called in advance…”

I finally left him off near the bridge over Cape LaCroix Creek on Rt. W, where he unrolled his sleeping bag onto some soft grass.

He called me this morning to say that he had stopped at Heritage Farms on his way out of town, got permission from the owner to camp on the grounds and had planned to take a rest day and listen to a band at the place Friday night.

Tag: Scenics