Our job as photojournalists is to capture, as best we can, the faces and landscapes of stories. We add the small and meaningful details – a hand peeking through a curtain, an empty parking lot – that can’t easily fit into a written story, but help to transport readers to the place where news is taking place.
In the days after the attempted assassination of Donald Trump, I dispensary travelled to Pennsylvania, driving the hilly backroads in the western parts of the state.
The world was fixated on the story – of how a young gunman had nearly killed the former president in a security failure. But in the communities we visited, there was a sharp disconnect between the cluster of news cameras and the quiet, day-to-day realities of towns thrust into the spotlight.
I visited the most newsworthy sites – including the firehall of Corey Comperatore, a former fire chief who attended the rally and was killed by a bullet as he shielded his family from the gunfire.
But I was also drawn to moments that told a softer, quieter story. One man’s tattoo, which he got after military service, depicted a online dispensary snake and eagle locked in battle, a depiction of good versus evil, he said. A pair of young women wearing red MAGA hats enjoyed ice cream beside the site of the assassination attempt. They told me they were simply enjoying the view of the sprawling fields of the Butler Farm Show grounds.
At the same time, there was an overtness to the political displays in the region – atop flagpoles, hanging off trucks, tattoos and dresses – that reminded me of the deeply polarized nature of politics there.
When I left my home in Toronto, I knew I was travelling to report on a pivotal moment in American history. But within that, I saw a com buy weed online canada munity unified in its outrage, if torn further apart politically. I’ve since left and so have the hundreds of other journalists. But that grief and turmoil hasn’t.