Looks like an accident up ahead. Traffic is backing up on Grant Road west of Country Club Rd. All three westbound lanes are blocked, including the suicide lane, that middle turning lane that from 7 to 9 in the morning runs west, and from 4 to 6 in the afternoon flows east. I merge into the far right lane. I'm heading west toward downtown, to the day job. I'm going to be late.
As I get closer, I see a blue plastic tarp covering something. A body? I don't know. A mangled bicycle is lying in the middle lane. Fluids are on the pavement, probably radiator fluid. I hope not blood. No Ambulances. Cops measuring marks on the pavement. This looks bad.
I leave Annie sleeping as I exit her front door and go to the truck to get the tripod and my Rollei. She's cool with me leaving her bed. It's a little after midnight on a Saturday night.
It's only a two block walk to the site of the accident. Traffic is pretty heavy on Grant tonight. Bar traffic. I dash across the street to the north side where the cross is. I noticed this blue cross just a week or so ago.
His name was Dale. He was riding his bike across the street in the crosswalk that morning. Someone speeding in the suicide lane, didn't see him and didn't stop, in spite of other four lanes of traffic that had stopped for him. He died later that morning. He was less than a half a mile from the Junior High school that he attended when he was hit.
No really good angle here but I want the lights of the passing cars in the shot. Nighttime seems the best time to photograph Dale's cross. Some lilies have been placed at the base of the cross. The candle by the cross has burned out. As I reach for my lighter, I notice a small folded note under the candle. I unfold it. Written in a teenager's hand, were these few words:
"Dear Dale,
I didn't know you.
But I'm sure your family is very sad and that you are with God.
Me and Sarah are very sad and very sorry."
That's all it said.
I refold the note and place it back under the candle. Using my lighter I light a piece of dry grass and light the wick deep down inside of the candle. Wax mixes with the grass and I drop the grass into the candle. It flames bright and strong. The camera is already set up. I take a 15-second exposure, then wait for another line of traffic to arrive from the stoplight at Grant and Country Club. I open the shutter for a 30-second exposure this time, just to make sure I get the shot.
Before I shoot the last couple exposures, I say my own prayer for Dale.
The candle continues to burn high and bright. The bar traffic continues to drive by. Life goes on for me, for Annie, for the people in the passing cars. But not for Dale. Not this life at least.