For the past two years I have procrastinated on doing a full-blown edit of image files from the In Search of America Project. This is not to say that I haven’t edited at all, I have, many times, for editorial pieces, and fine art prints: but that process is much different than editing for an exhibition.
While I was shooting the project I flew by the seat of my pants, primarily. For 4 ½ years I followed my gut. Any type of research was irrelevant. This project was, in a sense, a dichotomy. On the surface it was the search for answers to one single question, but that quest quickly became a labyrinth of explorations.
As I reflect upon the project now, I see that it became so much more than it set out to be. Yes, the project did present me with the answer to my initial question, but it also illuminated a much deeper insight into what America is about.
As the title of this piece states, the labor force is still the backbone of life in America, and it still remains the most overlooked, and underrated segment of our society by politicians, and even the media.
Throughout my journey I engaged with this segment more than any other. It was their stories that I listened to, and their ways of life that I immersed myself into.
As a photographer, and as a teller-of-stories, it is my obligation to keep my biases out of the equation. One of the best examples of this is the piece I did on coal miners. I was working on a commissioned story in Grafton, West Virginia - a State where the coal industry is big. I was invited to photograph at the Leer Coal Mine, which is the major employer in Taylor County.
This was a key part of the overall story I was working on, and I must admit that I was intrigued by the experience of going deep underground; but I also knew that I am vehemently against coal mining, and coal usage because of its devastation to the environment.
What I came to realize, once I set my strong biases aside, is that there is a vast difference between coal mining, and being a coal miner. In many places, where mining is big, coal miners are generational. It is a generational way of life. In places like Taylor County many of the miners are first generation. It was the draw of the big - and very steady paycheck. It was the incentive of financial security, especially in an area that was economically devastated.
As I write this I am reminded of a young man that I photographed years ago, while working on my first photographic documentary: A Mountain Dignity, regarding the Appalachian Culture of southeast Kentucky. His name is Chris Sexton, and at the time Chris worked as a coal miner.
When I asked him why, he told me it was the only job that would pay him enough to help his family, financially, and to pay for his college education.
As I waited by the elevator. with a small group of miners who were waiting for the shift change, I was intrigued by the expressionless faces, and a seemingly disengagement from one another. I came to realize that this was a psychological preparation for entering the mine for the next eight hours
What I found, when I entered the coal mine, were people that worked as a team, where each person had the other person’s back. I found people with a powerful work ethic. The conditions of the mine are far better now than they were when I photographed Chris; but even now the conditions are brutal.
There is a constant chill in the air, and a heavy dampness that permeates one’s bones.The noise level, even with industrial ear plugs, is deafening. The filtered masks keep coal dust from entering the lungs, but they also hinder one’s vision downward, forcing one to dip one’s head to see the ground - which is covered in obstacles. There is lighting, intermittently, but much of one’s vision is illuminated by headlamps.
Everywhere there is heavy machinery, some with six-foot cutting wheels that pass along a long passageway, stripping the coal from the seam wall, just several feet from where I stood. Inches above my head were thick steel plates that held up the earth above me, now that the supporting coal had been cut away
Also above my head, running for miles throughout the network of shafts, were two thin cords that, in case of a collapse, or a fire, one could hold onto these cords to know which direction to travel to safety. I will admit that throughout my time in the mine I questioned, repeatedly, if I could successfully navigate using this method.
Coal miners, even if only subconsciously, live with these fears every time they enter the mine. There is an elevator that takes the miners deep underground. This, in and of itself, reinforces the fact that one is transitioning from one world to another. Once in the mine there are miles of shafts running in numerous directions. Once I had reached my final destination I was more than two miles from the elevator..
I came to admire those who do this work. After spending only a few hours in those conditions I was ready to leave. In addition to everything I have mentioned, there is also a sensory deprivation that I can’t quite describe - but it is real and intense.
Besides the bleakness that comes roaring through in the photographs, the description of the cold dampness that permeates the bones makes your piece visceral, David. It looks tortuous. Nice job capturing miners' daily lives. Brutal, man.