Sometimes I have a really hard time shooting news photos. Sometimes I wish I was being paid to do something entirely different than recording photos of disasters. As I was returning from an assignment on Friday, a reporter said "let's go - there is a mobile home on fire on Struve Road." Ugh - My stomach drops and my walls climb tall with each call that comes through the scanner. Inevitably my adrenalin begins to rush. The drive there is usually rushed and frantic as we try to navigate our way to a scene that may have nothing worth viewing by the time we get there. We have to try to get something - a flame, a gun, a victim.
On Friday we rushed to a mobile home park in which a home had been destroyed by flames moments before we arrived. The windows were broken out and charred. Firefighters were hosing down areas that had the potential to flare up again. This home was absolutely gutted. I walked around and got the photos I thought told the story. I was speculating about who the homeowner was until it became painfully obvious who just lost everything. A woman was 100 yards from the scene near some trees - as if she was hiding from her reality. She was talking on her cell phone, crying hysterically. This woman's belongings were ash, she didn't know the whereabouts of her cat, her nest was no longer. I felt for her. I thought of this woman and her home several times this weekend. All I could do was think positive thoughts for her and hope my photos of her charred home will remind one person to keep their home safe from fire.