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Jeremy Hack: Green River Catfish Festival Day 3: A Photo Journal
I arrived home from the festival Saturday night with my memory card full and in high spirits. It took roughly half an hour to transfer the image files from the camera to my external hard drive. Being so excited to work on the photos, I found myself in editing until around 2:30am. I then wrote a small bit, perhaps only the first 500 or so words of the journal entry. I found myself heading off to bed around 3am. I had no trouble falling asleep.
The following morning was quite busy. I still had around 400 photos to sift through before editing. I finished the photos and the writing sometime before 3:30pm. I knew that I had missed some things at the festival but I also knew that today was pretty special because I'd be driving a vehicle in the Classic car and hot rod cruise in at the Festival. I was quite excited because I had never taken direct part in a festival event before.
The family had made agreements several weeks prior to the festival that we would each drive one of the family cars. I was issued the 2005 Saleen Mustang convertible. I truly love that car. It's a joy to drive and has just enough power to make it feel semi-aggressive on the road. Other vehicles within our convoy were the 1973 Chevrolet Vega drag car, 1970 Chevelle SS, and the Camaro (The year eludes me, but it is one of the later body styles). We agreed to meet at dads house sometime before 4pm. When I arrived I was greeted by my 23-month old nephew Mr. Carson Hack. He hobbled toward me flailing his arm toward the Chevelle "Doe! Awraay, daa! Doe? Ooooo!" He said. I'm convinced that he was telling me that he'd somehow be driving the Chevelle. "You driving the Chevelle little man?" I asked. "Whooahhaa! Doe!!" He replied.
We departed Oak Ridge and made our way into Morgantown to unload the Vega. Though the Vega can be driven on the street, it's likely not a good idea as it's been built for the drag strip. So the decision was made to unload the car in Morgantown and drive it to the rendezvous location at the Casco building. Mr. Ty Smith rode to town with me in the Saleen. After prepping the Vega for the cruise in, we each got into our respective vehicles and waited for the police to escort us and the other entries through Morgantown and into the Catfish Festival.
I'll say that it was very interesting to drive through the festival. I had burned a CD for the occasion. Driving down vendors row, I was blasting "I Stand Alone" by the band Godsmack. Occasionally clutching to rev the engine at people I recognized. Though I desperately tried to be the cool kid on the block in the Saleen, I was drastically outshined by the angry monster creeping in behind me, the Vega. Simply idling down the row, the obscene stroke of its engine thundered through the park and turned every head in sight.
We were guided into our parking spots at the Eva Hawes Complex where we exited the vehicles and retrieved our complimentary glass bottle Coca Colas and bags of popcorn. I had little time to socialize here so I captured a few engine photos and some of little nephew before heading to the carnival grounds.
I arrived at the first pavilion to photograph the Troubadours.
After this I proceeded to the carnival grounds to search for untapped photo opportunities, yielding few results. With thunder echoing in the distance I remembered the convertible I drove to the festival and proceeded back to the car show. It was nearly time to announce the winners anyway.
The administrators of the event wasted little time in calling the winners, whom in return wasted no time in getting in their cars and hitting the road. This to me was very easily understood as some of the cars in this show were worth more than an average home, and they likely didn't want to put the cars through a thunderstorm. So suffice to say, I didn't get the opportunity to photograph the winners with their winning car. I did get the information, however. I was proud that dad got first runner-up. He was surprised, because he didn't enter with the intention of winning anything.
After everyone had left, I entered the Eva Hawes building to photograph some 4-H work. However, I ended up more so talking with Mr. Saylor about 4-H and what it does for our young people. After quite some time, my old friend Adam Williams sent me a text asking if I was around and saying that he was near the midway trying to capture a shot of the lightning over the carnival grounds. I bid farewell to Mr. Saylor and headed back to the midway. Though it was still early, night had fallen with moderate rainfall, thunder, and lightning abound. The rides had shut down and the visitors had gone home due to the conditions.
The only remaining sign of life was a moderately-sized crowd squeezed under the first pavilion at the Don Thomason show.
Aside from that, the midway sat abandoned. The familiar feeling of isolation called to me again, so I attempted to capture and personify it at the midway and carnival grounds. I photographed through the rain a bit more before heading home for the night. I was a bit disappointed that I didn't capture more variety, but I can't control the weather nor the decision of people to leave the festival.
Please stay tuned for my final journal of the 2016 Green River Catfish Festival.
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