In early 2018 I deplaned after an 18 hour flight when my phone rang. It was Steve Hartman. He called to share an idea with me; to photograph bedrooms of kids that had been killed in school shootings, in which the parents have largely kept their kids rooms intact. It’s a headful. After that call about six years ago, I still do not have an "elevator pitch". I guess it's because I don’t often talk about this project. It is too difficult.

I am always working on self funded passion projects, but this is beyond comprehension for me. It is by far the most difficult project that I have ever worked upon. Yet when Steve explained his idea and asked me if I would like to be involved, without hesitation, I said yes. I have been friends with Steve for about 25 years. There is no way that I would not have partnered on this with him.

Frankly, I did not think we would get any families to agree. Frankly, I was hoping they would not. Emotionally, I was not sure how I would get through it. However, within a few months I was on my way to Parkland, FL. Alone. I’m not sure that I realized that I would be on my own. But here I was.

Who am I. My Linkedin profile states: I am an on-location commercial photographer, focusing on people and pets with an aesthetic approach that is driven by creating compelling, honest, textural and connective moments for large brands.

So how do I approach this project, when there is no one present to take photos of, due to the most brutal of reasons?

My challenges were creative and emotional.

CREATIVE: Creatively, my mindset was to make a portrait of a child who is not there. I wanted to capture his / her essence in the most sacred of places to these families, their children's bedrooms. Most poignant to me was that there was a feeling in each room that a child was just there and that they were coming right back. That’s the way they left their room. They went to school in the morning and were coming home afterwards.

Like most kids, these bedrooms seem to be their very own special places. Their personalities shined through in each and every one of them and I learned to lookout for the smallest of details, such as hair ties on a doorknob, an un capped tube of toothpaste, a ripped ticked for a school event and the list seems non stop. I looked everywhere, without touching anything. I photographed inside of trash cans, under beds, behind desks. In each and every room, my hope was to uncover glimpses as to who they are. I felt like all of their rooms were perfect examples of that.

EMOTIONS: The parents that I spoke with seemed grateful that I was there. However, “getting there”, emotionally, was not easy for me. It was brutal. Over the course of 6+ years I / we visited with 8 families around the country. Each and every time that I received a call or text from Steve about a new family, my heart sank. It meant that another family had lost a child. The fact that this is even an issue, that kids are being killed at school, to me is unfathomable. It is so far out of my realm of understanding, it simply makes no sense and it's impossible for me to process. The night prior to each one of the family visits, I didn’t sleep. I knew that it going in. It’s not a self fulfilling prophecy. It is nerves. And empathy. And sorrow. And fear.

The following is a deeper dive into my behind-the-scenes world and are my “field notes” that I made after that first call with Steve and early on in this project.

5/16/2018

This is going to be one of the most difficult things ever, emotionally, for me, and not just work related. As I read my research documents, I start sobbing. I'm sitting in 6H balling, coming in from Nairobi as I write these thoughts. Thankfully the cabin is dark, people are sleeping.

When Steve presented this project to me, how could I say no? I'm not now, nor ever will run from uncomfortable circumstances, especially if some good can come out of it. But what good can possibly come from this?

I want to stay away from politics. I am not going there.

These kids in FL that survived are intense, so proud of what they have brought to the table, the things that come out of their mouths are poignant and I hope that they can help make change.

As I continue read these research documents, I can't help thinking about Rose and what if. I've lost sleep over envisioning the what “if’s” well before Parkland, I guess that’s what Dad's do.

When I read about April & Phillip and Lori's plight, I somehow, for some reason put myself in their emotional position even though that is impossible, I have no idea, it's beyond comprehension, I do not know what they feel. I do not know what I am going to say to them, I'm scared beyond belief. And alone.

5/19/2018

10am I photographed Alyssa Alhadeff's room, first one. Emily Price, family friend, greeted me and I have to say I was shaky, but not as much as if I was meeting Lori, the Mother.

Emily opened the closed door of Alyssa’s room and as I entered, my lungs could not get enough air. Emily told me that her Daughter and Alyssa were best friends, there was a photo of the both of them on the table upon entering. She said that she couldn't be there and left abruptly.

The room was a beautiful teenagers messy room. My emotions were kept in check the way that they usually are; By hiding behind the camera. I removed my shoes before entering. My heart was pounding and it reverberated through my body & soul, I felt like I was in one of the most sacred & special places on earth. I was so careful not to touch anything.

As I said good bye to Emily, tears flowed. My emotions have been amplified for days and I felt ready to explode in sadness. And Anger. How can these kids be shot at school? It makes no sense.

1p I photographed Carmen Schentrups room. Her parents, are April and Phillip. This one was the one that I was scared about the most. Meeting the parents. Together. Certain social situations are awkward enough, but this is beyond. I feel so much pain and compassion for them and I don't want to say the wrong thing, drop cliches etc. I spoke to Steve for guidance. He said, just be you. That’s all I can do. Just be me. He was right, those three words helped carry me through this entire project. Just be me.

I was being myself. April let me in. I took my time but worked fast. I was nervous to meet Phillip also. He appeared as I was leaving. The conversation felt like we all three were just trying to hold it together. I cannot imagine what they are going through, my heart hurts for them. This was / is such a painful project, and reconciling it will be impossible.

I think about how anything can happen at any time to any of us. Literally. You never know. I needed nature and a moment to write and breathe. I've been to Whole Foods twice today. I needed to force myself to not only eat, but to eat familiar food & drink. I needed to ground myself.

And just like that I'm gone, about 16 hours on the ground in Florida and I've wrapped one portion of the most emotionally difficult projects that I've ever taken on. However, this project is a must. Yet I dread that next call from Steve about the next family. It could be many years from now, tomorrow, or it may never happen.

Today is 10/14/2024 and we have completed the project. There was also a documentary crew filming us working on this project. Steve’s piece will air 11/17/2024 on The Sunday Morning Show. This is not a typical Steve Hartman segment. While I have not seen it, there is no way that it can be. I mean how? I know that he was struggling as well. We have seen a to of time processing this. There is no positive message to end with here that I can comprehend. Whatever it is, I hope that it can facilitate change. Someway, somehow. After the news cycle ends, these families will still be living with an incomprehensible nightmare.

An early August evening I left the home of one of the family's, obviously devastated and within minutes I passed a ice cream shop that was crowded with other families, full of joy, laughter, seemingly carefree. The juxtaposition of those two scenes, mere minutes apart, cracked my soul.