Have you ever asked yourself that question? “WHY AM I HERE?”
I often ask myself why was I at a certain place at a particular time. Why did I stop and speak with this man or pet that dog…or take that certain photo. What was the connection? Why did I open this dialogue?
Recently I had many of these “life” questions answered for me in a sad and shocking way. The writing couldn’t have been bolder on that wall for me.
A few months back, while I was escorting an elderly friend to the cemetery to visit her late husband, I was introduced to an amazing spirit. Upon our first meeting this man dropped to one knee, right there in the cemetery, and he serenaded me. Luckily I had the sense to sheepishly lift my camera and capture that moment.
On another day I had a young photographer visiting with me and I decided to show her the ancient Jewish cemetery located inside of our town cemetery. There we came upon this man, Karl Heinz as I learned was his name. He had his tiny granddaughter with him and was bringing her to visit his Mother, her Great Grandmother who also rested in this place. Though an intimate moment, something told me to steal away this moment with my lens.
I would see Karl Heinz on and off for the next year…a disc of these images sat on my kitchen counter for him yet I always seemed to forget to take it along with me on my walks for the day we had yet another chance encounter. The opportunity just never seemed to present itself.
One winter’s morning I headed out and I turned left when I normally turn right and there in front of my friend Karl Heinz house was the mortician and his large dark car….wheeling a gurney out of their home. All the air seemed to leave my chest…it couldn’t possibly be. Perhaps there was an elderly family member I was unaware of who has passed during the night. Sad and shocked faces of neighbors gathered about the street. I looked to their faces for answers but could only find the one I didn’t want to find.
Later in that week I got the courage up to walk to the cemetery and read the announcement board. With eyes full of tears I read: “Karl Heinz Weick, dead at 68″.
I told several neighbors the story of my meeting Karl Heinz and that when the family was read, I had photos of him that I would love them to have…when they were ready. The family contacted me and were enthusiastic to have the images…he had told them about meeting this American woman and her camera and that she had taken photos of him. These were the last photos ever taken of him.
I am honored to call Karl Heinz friend even if it was but for a short while. To me he eptiomized that saying, “The candle that burns the brightest, burns the shortest”
Now I know, WHY I was there that day….WHY I stopped and talked with this particular man….For the honor of photographing him, as he was in life…for the very last time.
by lthek
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