Unphotographable: a text account of pictures missed
This is a picture I did not take of a ditch at a bend in Huff Creek Road in Jasper, TX, where two dogs sat on a Sunday morning in early November, eight years and change from a Sunday morning of altogether different circumstances, and even though time has passed and trees have grown up and there's new grass, old leaves and even flowers poking-up in the fields, the place felt haunted -- it was as if there were a sound still in the air, an echo from that night that never really faded away, and as I leaned out my window and the dogs started barking and chasing my car, I kept driving, heading toward something familiar, and now, months later, when I feel occasionally rosy about the state of race relations in the South, I think about that place and that bend in the road and what was found there eight years ago, and how the dogs looked up at me, ready for the chase.

all - home - why - interview
copyright 2004-2007 Michael David Murphy

I kept driving, heading toward something familiar, and now, months later, when I feel occasionally rosy about the state of race relations in the South,...