Beech Tree News Network

I went to bed the previous night with the best of intentions. I was going to wake up at the crack of dawn and be super journalist Hack. I didn't care what time it was when I went to bed, tomorrow was the big day and I just didn't care. The 4th of July for the past 4 years has been my yearly capstone project.

For those who are unfamiliar, in college we were each assigned a capstone project as our "Master Final" to prove our worth for our degree. Capstone projects are especially common in highly technical fields. The term "Capstone" refers to something which is placed at the peak of an established structure. In the case of a capstone project, the structure is a metaphorical representation of newly-learned skills and knowledge. With that being said, a capstone project is a project which is intended to exhibit the pinnacle of skills attained and polished. Though Google will yield various definitions of a capstone, this was our definition in Nashville.

Unfortunately, I failed to take into account the lack of proper sleep I received over the weekend. In fact, I had slept on the couch every night since the festival began because I washed sheets and hadn't yet found the time to put them on my actual bed. My phone rang and woke me up sometime near 10am. I had missed the terrapin race and the old fashioned games. I felt a bit disappointed with myself. I answered the call. It was John Embry. He called to see if I'd mind covering the dog show at 11. I was still in my sleeping clothes, having just woke up. No caffeine. No shower. I threw on my cleanest dirty shirt and jeans and lumbered out the front door. When I reached the porch I was blasted with a wet and sticky air. The light was overcast and it just felt so mundane and uninspired. It was "morning" to me, and I simply wasn't feeling sharp because I had just woken up.

I started my vehicle and proceeded forward down the driveway. I spotted a doe near the road. That doe would have been there even if I hadn't gotten out of bed, just as the events at the festival today would unfold regardless of rather I went or not. Just a small reminder that things aren't in the realm of our control, but we are welcome to join in the ride.

 

Heading to Morgantown, I thought to myself on how stressed I felt at this time last year doing video. I'd never trade that experience, but I began to realize now that having cut my workload that perhaps I could have the time and breathing room to be more creative. The day truly looked nasty. It was gloomy and humid. I arrived at the festival at roughly 10:40am and requested that the parking officials allowed me to leave my vehicle at the Eva Hawes lot, as I was in a bit of a rush to reach the furthermost pavilion to cover the dog show. I parked the car and arrived at the pavilion. By this time, I had found a bit of mental clarity. Likely due to my listening to "Late Goodbye" by Poets of the Fall on repeat on my drive over. The dogs were lovely. The owners had done a wonderful job with preparing them and it was very obvious that each animal came from a love-filled home. They were all very well-behaved. There were some children present as well, so I couldn't ignore the opportunity to gather a few preshow images.

 

At the end of the dog show, an announcement was made that they had a limited quantity of wrist bands available to visitors, so that they may be free to leave the festival and re-enter without paying. Unfortunately I was preoccupied with retrieving the winning statistics to fall in line and claim mine. My next order of business was to trek downhill to the Chamber of Commerce trailer to retrieve my wrist band. The walk was easy, with few visitors present. A very mild drizzle fell from the sky, but it wasn't a hindrance. I found it to be a refreshing alternative to the humid and sticky air from shortly before.

 

Not a moment after I gained entry to the chamber facility, the sky released it's fury. A torrent poured relentlessly from the sky, the likes of which I hadn't witnessed for some weeks. I could have waited until the rain eased a bit. But today was the big day. I required of myself that I faced difficulty and was an outlier in some way. What is the point of making art if you wait under a tent for the rain to stop so you feel comfortable? Though it may be a bit grandiose, I slowly but proudly walked through the torrent for the entire length of the park.

Needless to say that by the time I reached the Eva Hawes lot I was soaked, equivalent to jumping into a lake. Fortunately I had placed my camera into a plastic bag for carry. I decided to wait in the car for a bit to see if any brave dog show attendees chose to face the downpour and leave. Of course, listening to "Late Goodbye" on repeat. After perhaps 20 minutes, I made my way up Festival Street and headed home to catch up on an article.

 

It was quite honestly time well spent away from the festival. The downpour temporarily rendered my internet disabled so I opted to shower and put on clean clothes. After a short time, the service returned and I was able to polish some images and format my card. At some time in the process, Mr. Adam Williams contacted me asking what time I'd be returning to the festival because he would like to ride along when I came back through. I knew at that point that the day would likely improve, so long as the rain held off. I do much better in the presence of other photographers. Sometime between 4:20pm and 4:30pm Adam and I arrived at the festival, though still quite murky it was now free of the downpour. We temporarily parked at the baseball field atop the hill. We decided to interact with the firework team and see what they had going on there.

 

I found the sheer complexity of the pyrotechnic system to be quite impressive. Adam and I talked with the gentlemen for a bit as they worked before heading down the hill to the first pavilion, where I hoped to capture an image of Mary Cutter performing.

 

For the most part, the visitors hadn't yet arrived so we decided to check in on John King & the Mud River Revival at the third pavilion. They were already present, though their show wasn't slated to begin until 8. They truly have a passion for working toward the perfect sound, so they were already conducting sound tests among many other things.

 

After a short time, we progressed to the first pavilion once more to wait for the closing ceremony to begin. While waiting, I captured a few additional images as the Rose Band were setting up. By now there were quite a few visitors present, more than I had seen at the closing ceremony for many years. It was a pleasure to see my great friend Whitney Capps and her boys as well.

 

The ceremony went well. One gentleman had caught a $1,000 fish and I was very happy for him. A short conversation afterward revealed that he hadn't been fishing in many years. I told him that perhaps his luck had built up.

 

Adam and I decided to head over to the Star Trooper to begin our foray into photographing the rides for the day. Here I captured a very nice wide angle image of this ride as well as the Pirate Ship and Ferris wheel. With the telephoto lens I captured some images of the riders, including Mr. Daltyn Havens.

 

Shortly after this, the sun crept through the clouds and gave a brief moment of gorgeous light across the carnival. I took advantage of this, gaining several more images in the intense lighting.

 

I had promised my friend Jacob Dockery days before that I'd be present to capture him opening for John King at 7:30. Adam and I left the carnival and made a route toward the pavilion, stopping for a cup of delicious sweet tea on the way.

 

We arrived at the pavilion, and Jacob informed me that it would be perhaps 8pm before he opened, so we decided to go shoot a bit of wrestling at the Eva Hawes facility which was slated to begin at 7:30. Once there, the emcee announced that the wrestling would be delayed by 25 minutes. This meant that I'd be unable to photograph wrestling, as I'd need to be at the pavilion to cover John and his group. We departed the Eva Hawes facility and waited at the pavilion for Jacob to open. Adam's family had arrived, so we parted ways and they left to enjoy the festival elsewhere. The show began with Jacob playing his guitar in the style of Jimi Hendrix, upside-down lefty. His opening medley ended with the Star Spangled Banner. I then left the pavilion to the soccer field to enjoy the sunset and wait for nightfall to photograph John, Mike, Matt, and Jason.

 

I had worked with John a few times on music videos. His songs tell great stories, which always made it easy for me to write screenplays for his videos. It was now closing in on dark so I proceeded to make photos of John and his band. 

After only a few songs, I overheard that the fireworks would be starting in perhaps 20 minutes. I left the pavilion and approached the carnival grounds.

 

Shortly after arriving at the carnival grounds I determined that I'd begin firework coverage at the far side of the grounds and sweep downward to end at the Ferris wheel for the finale. I encountered a fellow photographer and great friend, Mrs. Tami Phelps along with her husband. While waiting for fireworks to begin we talked for a bit and I made their photo. I proceeded to the duck pool tent near the ring of fire where I met Elizabeth Kimmel who was also waiting for the show to begin. We agreed that I'd try to make a photo of her daughter with the fireworks when they began. A flare made its way into the sky, giving a 10-minute indication that the show would soon begin. A dampened pop rung through the carnival grounds, exploding into a crackling report, the rides came to a stop, and the fireworks were underway. The Catfish Festival stood silent in anticipation.

 

I can't say that I clearly recall the series of events which unfolded next. This 15-minute period of time was to be the final exam to my year, and a cumulative assessment of my skill in photography, if only to myself. The time of experimenting with ISO, aperture, shutter speed, composition, balance, focal length and color temperature was over. Now was the time to put up or shut up. I was either a photojournalist or I wasn't. I wasn't sure, and I was a bit frightened. I had never taken the time to photograph this event and capture its essence in a series of two dimensional images. I was positioned near the Ring of Fire when the show began. I captured a series of images featuring the swings before progressing down the carnival grounds weaving between onlookers. At this moment I recall reaching an epiphany. My efforts to achieve normality had failed, and as always I was locked into a competition with myself. I hadn't slowed down for this in the way that I planned. Again I was viewing something spectacular through the viewfinder of a camera. Perhaps this was simply who I was and what I had perceived to be normality all the while was in fact an illusion of my own conjuring, as I'd been told.

I was aside the Ferris wheel when the sky caught fire with a glowing crimson which seemed to last for minutes. The deep explosions shook the town and grew in intensity until day night had become day with all colors, and then silence for a brief moment. The festival erupted with cheering and applause and the fireworks were over.   

 

I made  a few more images of visitors shortly after. Including my good friends Trapper Embry, Lindsey Embry, Callie Cardwell and Caleb Beasley.

 

I walked down the midway and up the hillside to my car, capturing one final image at the 2016 Catfish Festival. Two young men had reached the apex of the hill leading to the soccer field.

 

I took a deep breath and started the car. For the final time of the year I drove up the hill on Festival Street out of the park. Making my way through Morgantown, I saw every inch of every parking lot evenly coated with vehicles and pedestrians. This wasn't simply a community event. This had been an exodus into the abnormal in a small Kentucky town which is not unlike so many other towns, but yet so different that it keeps me here. Passing by each cluster of parked vehicles and smiling faces, I couldn't help but wonder what has happened. What is it through time that has led this little community astray from gathering in such tremendous numbers on a regular basis to ask how their neighbors are doing? I wonder why a yearly tradition is required to bring out the comradery among our citizens. Tonight the stars had shined through like any other night of the year, and those same old lights coated the streets, only tonight they cast the shadows of Butler County's own. Perhaps a bit of untraditional tradition wouldn't be a bad thing.     

Thanks for reading and following my journal of the 2016 Green River Catfish Festival.