Longshot!, Witnessing Homecoming

The documentary film The Way We Get By is a moving narrative about three senior citizens in Bangor, Maine who greet U.S. troops departing for and arriving from the war in Iraq. Cinematically filmed by award winning photojournalist and co-director of photography, Dan Ferrigan, The Way We Get By captures the emotion and sentiment about growing old, solitude, war, and mortality.

In a phone interview I conducted for Longshot! magazine, Ferrigan talks about the one narrative that escaped his lens throughout the entire film. He shares his personal perspective on the untold story in The Way We Get By, the ultimate Comeback—returning home from war. Alive.

All photograpy Copyright © Dan Ferrigan

What was it like to experience firsthand, to witness through the lens of a camera, a soldier’s return home?

At first it is hard to soak it all in when you are working through the lens. That first time you capture the troops leaving or arriving, you are concentrating on the film. Determining the look. Finding the best angle. You become pre-occupied with how best to capture what is happening.

The Way We Get By was filmed over three years and we had developed some comfort with filming over time. You learn what to expect and look for, recognizing the important elements for the film (e.g. when the greeters provide cell phones to the troops upon arrival).

Once you move beyond how you want to capture the film, the perspective changes. You start to feel as though you have been let in on a secret. Or more accurately, you have let yourself in on a secret. It is like when you were a kid lifting up a rock and find a bunch of insects underneath. You think, holy crap there is a lot going on here.

When you take a step back and look at what is happening, you become aware of a very big idea. Bangor International Airport, where our three greeters were filmed, represented a significant piece of U.S. soil for the troops. If you were arriving from Iraq, it was the first bit of U.S. soil that you set foot on. For those leaving, it was the last piece of U.S. soil you stepped on. If you deployed from Bangor International Airport and never made it home, it was the last patch of U.S. soil you set foot on—for the rest of your life.

Looking under the rock of The Way We Get By is a surreal experience. The airport was like a crazy sci-fi portal and the three greeters were the gatekeepers to that portal. You felt emotionally invited and thankful to not be excluded from witnessing what was happening. These incredibly intimate moments for the troops that were either a first, or a last.

All photography Copyright © Dan Ferrigan

U.S. Troops were flying in at all hours of the day and night. Did you get a sense they expected anyone to greet them?

The soldiers never expected to see anyone. Even though many had heard about the phenomenon of greeters at airports where U.S. troops would arrive or deploy. If they had an idea beforehand, it was quieted by the fact that U.S. troops had been coming and going for a long time. At some point the rest of the country had returned to their lives, so it was easy to not think anyone would be there to greet their arrival or see them off.

Greeters, however, are relentless. At Bangor, they never missed a flight. Troops were met with cheering. A lot of times the soldiers would be looking behind them, down the line to see what celebrity was following. For the greeters, the soldiers were the celebrities. They would exchange hugs and hand out cell phones so the soldiers could contact their loved ones.

It was a phenomenon that transcended all political beliefs and affiliations. It didn’t matter how you felt about the war, or decisions made by the government. All of that was out the window. The return or departure of troops from Bangor International Airport was larger than political biases.

The narrative of the film centered on Joan, Bill and Jerry—the three greeters, did you have an opportunity off camera to speak extensively with the soldiers coming home from Iraq?

Yes, we did. The soldiers had a strong sense of what they were getting into. Regardless of their reasons for enlisting, each of them made a choice to serve their country. The older soldiers in particular, some who had even served in Vietnam, were interesting.

They seemed to have something like a haunting burden. When you consider all their years of service, the burden makes sense. Their lives seemed to sum up the weight of the situation. One soldier in particular said that in all his years of service, “this is the first time I have ever been greeted by my country”.

It was a powerful emotion. You find yourself immersed. Draw in by the soldiers and the weight of their experiences.

All photography Copyright © Dan Ferrigan

Did you find yourself later reflecting on the troops experience of safely returning home?

Reflecting on the experience later was unavoidable. You go into it trying to find the best way to capture and share the story. In the beginning you have somewhat of a work mindset. In a way, that mindset can give you blinders. It allows you to film. You start with a blank canvas and every time you film, it gets splattered with an image from the story.

Later, you go home with a picture of the canvas in your head and you reflect on the story. You start to think about how you were actually a part of it and it stays with you in your quiet time. In a way the troops are a lot like close family. You find yourself asking, “Why did they have to leave? Will they return safely?”

In the end you feel appreciative as it makes you reflect on your own life. A lot. In comparison to the troops in Iraq, my life isn’t in the same ballpark. On every level you can see the sacrifice they are making and you are aware of what they are giving up for their country.

Is there any greater ‘Comeback’ than returning home from the war, alive?

The troops who never return have an even greater Comeback story. Even though they never made it home, we are reminded of their contribution. We remember and honor them. Their sacrifice comes back to us. Like the older soldiers with the heavy burden of a lifetime of war, we are burdened by the responsibility of making sure the troops did not die in vain. We are burdened by the responsibility to ensure we make their sacrifice count.

***
About Dan Ferrigan Award-winning photojournalist Dan Ferrigan has worked on four films including The Way We Get By, Getting Rid of Libby, and BLUR. In 2007, Dan traveled to India where he worked on India: A New Life, commissioned by PBS-Frontline World. Dan currently is a photojournalist for New England Cable News (NECN). In 2006, he worked on The Long Journey Home, a 30-minute documentary on the “Face of America 2006” bike ride for able-bodied and disabled veterans that aired on New England Cable News (NECN) and had showings across New England. Dan worked for ABC affiliates around the country as a photojournalist before settling down in Boston. He has won an AP award, an American Heart Association award and was the photographer on an Edward R Murrow Award winning project.

About Longshot! Over a 48 hour period from noon August 27, 2010, through noon August 29, 2010, hundreds of writers, editors, artists, photographers, programmers, videographers, and other creatives from all around the world came together via the Internet, and in offices in Los Angles, Portland, and San Francisco to make a magazine from start to finish.

Rapha, A Brief Review

Recently I received a piece of sample range from Rapha—the high-end cycling performance clothier based in the UK. They were interested in my thoughts on one of their undergarment offerings, so a member of Rapha USA forwarded some of their riding stock . Below is an excerpt from my review at Freeman Transport,

“When you consider the upper echelon of cycling performance wear—I am far removed from a riding clothiers target audience. When I mentioned this notion to brother Ferencz, he captured the sentiment by stating that I am a, “big brother trying to hustle in a small man’s world.”

Please click through for more on my latest contribution at Freeman Transport.

Black History, Memorandum

Whenever Black History is mentioned in everyday conversation, on television, or in a newspaper or magazine — history is reminisced to the familiar tune of King Jr having a dream, Parks at the front of the bus, and X by any means necessary.

Black History, however, goes far beyond the names of those we learn during our childhood and it goes far beyond the struggle of Blacks that has been watered down into made for television movies on BET.

History is a narrative. A story of acts, ideas, or events that will or can shape the course of the future; and there are so many stories in Black History that have yet to truly be shared.

While doing research for a journal article, I discovered a narrative about the 25^th Infantry Bicycle Corps; the original Buffalo Soldiers. From Fort Missoula, Montana (a place familiar to me as it is home to my friends at Freeman Transport) — the 25^th made history by simply riding a bicycle.

Written as a memorandum, my recent contribution to the Freeman blog takes a brief look into how the men of the 25^th Infantry Bicycle Corps rode into Black History with the turn of their pedals.

Heart, Like A Wheel

One of my new obsessions lately is to acquire rare and interesting books about bicycling. One book in particular, C.R. Woodard’s Scientific Training for Cycling, had been on my list for some time.

Originally published in 1951, Woodard’s notions about cycling, training and fitness would prove valuable to even todays competitive cyclist.

The chapter on Women in Cycling stood out among the rest given the ideas that C.R. Woodard was pioneering during a time when women in the 50s were returning to the household after starring as Rosie the Riveter in the second world war.

My latest contributor piece, Heart Like A Wheel (on the Freeman Transport site) delves into why C.R. Woodard believed women were just as competitive in cycling (if not more so) than their male counterparts.

He was definitely on to something. Marinate.

Good Habits, Clean Living

In the past few years living in Massachusetts, I have really gained a respect for the history of this place and the narratives of many of its historical figures.

One in particular is Marshall Major Taylor, a velodrome world champion in the early 1900’s from Worcester, MA.

My short piece about Taylor’s values on good habits for clean living recently published on the Freeman Transport blog — it is amazing how these notions can still be useful in todays modern society.

OPEN Creative Habits

In the book, The Creative Habit, written by Twyla Tharp, there is an entire chapter on Where’s Your “Pencil”? The question refers to our American Express, Don’t Leave Home Without It, tools that fuel our creativity. In our everyday lives, there exists a metaphorical pencil, which is the necessary puzzle piece that drives our creative hustles.

Every time I visit OPEN, Joshua’s hands are perpetually covered in bike grease. When I see him, we dance through our customary social greeting which habitually begins with him saying, “Sorry man, my hands are dirty…”

The fact that Joshua’s hands are always grimy is comforting to me. His greasy hands are symbolic of Joshua’s creative passion for what he and Zack, both, hope to bring to the familial and collaborative space they have created with OPEN.

For Joshua’s hands, gloved in filth, hardened and sometimes scarred from a day spent repairing and building bikes, the grease represents his pencil and is the one tool that feeds [your] creativity and is so essential that without it [you] feel naked and unprepared (Tharp, The Creative Habit).

What is the pencil for your creative habit? For me, quite literally, it is a pencil. True to my hustle, it is called the perfect pencil. As a writer, my pencil helps capture the world around me through finished narratives, or by sharing the fractured elements of stories without a voice.

Where’s your pencil? What creative spark to your habit will it bring to keep your fire burning? I suspect that once you discover the tool, the only thing left to pursue is your passion. Like Joshua, with his hands perpetually covered in bike grease, this is one habit you will never have a need to apologize.

* * *
OPEN Creative Habits was originally published at openbicycle.com. copyright © 2009, Do You KNOW Clarence?™ All rights reserved.