Vanishing breed: my rural post office project Part 1

On the closure list, Hoytville's office might be spared, but at the cost of being reduced to two hours of operation a day Photos Aaron W. Gonya 2012

        Anyone who follows the news is aware of the difficulties affecting the U.S. Postal service. Although it now seems that the imminent closure of thousands of rural post offices has been averted, the new strategy, which involves cutting the hours of operation of many offices to as little as two hours a day will also have far reaching consequences.
        To many people who live in larger towns and cities the Post Office is often little more than the carrier delivering the mail from their ubiquitous mail truck.
        To the citizens of rural areas and small towns the U.S. Post office takes on an entirely different character. There are no fleets of postal trucks, no familiar carriers walking the neighborhood with their bags of mail.  In fact in most small towns home delivery is not even offered. For the vast majority of Americans who live in a small town getting the mail involves a walk or short drive to the local Post office.

Grelton's post office is the corner of the
town's grain elevator

        If you live outside of a town, your mail might come in a any number of vehicles. From aged rusting postal jeeps to Subaru wagons to well worn Wranglers and Cherokees rural carriers supply their own vehicle to handle their routes. Far removed from the fleets of trucks and mini-vans used in urban areas.
        I set off, on what might be a race against time, to capture the rural postal service before it fades away.  Although the closings are now on hold, e-mail and package services such as Federal Express have eroded the business that has kept the U.S. Postal service in operation. My goal is to document the face of the rural post office, far removed from the monolithic buildings, vast fleets of vehicles and automated sorting centers of the more urban areas.
      Almost every small town post office is unique, the few who share an architectural style are time capsules direct from the very early 1960's. The rest range from repurposed store fronts, old banks and houses and all across the gamut to the basement of a Legion hall and a corner of a grain elevator office.
      In the city, or even a larger town everything is kept up to date, uniformly marked with the current USPS eagle logo. (In use since 1993).  However the farther you venture from the major population centers, the less the passage of time seems to have touched them. Step into a rural post office and you might find the older signage still displayed, a service information center (tack board) from the 1950's still kept up to date with the important events of the town, brass post boxes and no shortage of improvised, home made and hand painted signs. The local postal employees were generally residents of the villages they served and the post office became a  reflection of it's Postmaster (Or in the past, often it's Postmistress) and it's community.
     The economy has taken a harsh toll on far too many of these small towns, business close, and younger people move to cities where jobs are easier to find. Villages like Grelton, in Henry county once had four gas stations and several stores, now little remains but the grain elevator.  Grelton's post office might be a window into the future of the rural postal service. Grelton is a C.P.U., a Contract Postal Unit, Grelton elevator employee Eric Norden  handles the mail for the village in addition to running the grain elevator.  It's a system that seems to work very well for the town.

   The interior of the Grelton Post Office

     I've had a very positive reception so far in talking to the postal workers and visiting and photographing these offices. Uniformly they are proud of what they do. Many of them have 20-30 year careers with the USPS, and they all come across as very proud of their offices and the communities they serve.

Amtrak's history special visits Toledo

   Amtrak's historic display train spends the night at Toledo's
 Union station.  

   Whenever in the city for a few days I try and keep an eye out for interesting events going on. Amtrak's 40th anniversary display train was going to be in town for National Train day, which took place Saturday. National train day is an Amtrak sponsored event showcasing  rail travel in the U.S.
   Driving past the downtown Friday night and passing Union station I decided to take advantage of the chance to do some night photography of the train. The lights were on at the station and I had my tripod in the back seat (as always) so I grabbed the camera and headed down. I'll admit to a bit of trepidation after having been asked to leave the area on a couple of occasions in years past (In the aftermath of 9/11) Fortunately for me, a tripod toting photographer encumbered with gear must not seem like that much of a threat. I did however do the right thing and talk with some of the Amtrak personnel and let them know my intentions.    
   I spent close to two hours photographing the Amtrak train, with it's locomotives specially painted to reflect Amtrak's 40th anniversary (Last year Amtrak marked it's 40th year). My only company were a pair of rail enthusiasts and a few passengers waiting to board a later train.  As everyone should near railroad tracks, I crossed the tracks only in the marked areas and maintained a high state of awareness. Anytime you are near a railroad track you should expect a train.

Amtrak Locomotive #822 represents the railroads

 current high tech  equipment. 

  Toledo's Union station was built in 1948 as the last major Union station constructed in the U.S. Before it's construction the multiple railroads serving Toledo each maintained their own buildings.
    I went back to the station Saturday afternoon to help staff  our historical societies table at the event, but regrettably didn't get the chance to tour the train, maybe next year.

  Amtrak locomotive #406 represents
  the companies past.

My final blog post on PHO245, but my blog will continue on.

   As the semester quickly winds down, and we all rush to tie up loose ends and frantically turn in assignments that probably should have been completed weeks ago. I'm taking a few minutes to convert my blog from a class project in PHO245/Intro to Photojournalism into my general photography blog.  I have already changed the name, and used it as part of an assignment for the careers course I took this semester. Having three months of content on my blog already has to count for something!
    If anyone continues to follow this blog, rest assured the tone will not change all that much. Most of the personal projects I have lined up don't stray that far from the photojournalistic style that I enjoy, and that Lori and Dave reinforced so well over the past several months.
 PHO245 was probably the most interesting, enjoyable and definitely one of the most difficult "shooting" classes I have ever taken.
   Lori, our instructor asked us to make any suggestions on how the experience could be improved for the next semesters class.  Quite honestly the only ones I could think of were also brought up by my classmates, so all I can really do is echo them here.
   Shooting should start earlier, much earlier.  Personally I think a group field trip/shooting assignment should be worked into the first month. It would get everyone more acclimated to being around the general public with their camera, and editing the take in class would be a good reinforcement of what we look for with human interest and composition.  I think it would be a good jump start to getting past the initial apprehension that most of us felt about shooting in public.
    The camera ops-slide show should be back in, but due as a mid-term project. I was inundated with other class work near the end and would have had to hack it together at the last second, had Lori not removed it from the requirements. Personally I was thrilled about that, but I also think it's important and needs to be reinforced at every opportunity
    Like several other people have mentioned, I think the due dates for the class, and personal projects should be staggered by a week or two. For me, everything in all my classes coming due at the last second put a major rush, and a lot of pressure on me. It's done, and it was probably a good lesson in handling stress, but I feel that my work could have been better had I been able to stagger, (which I could have on my own, of course) the assignments.
    I  can't think of anything else, except to thank Lori, Dave, Sydney,Shalisha,Maria,Paul and Christian for one of the best class experiences that I have ever had.

My individual story is a great opportunity only half accomplished.

Gerry Dumas, father of Dr. Nick Dumas

 (PHO245/Aaron Gonya)

     At the end of every semester I tend to reflect on all the opportunities that I missed. Now don’t get me wrong, I have put a hundred percent into every class I took this spring. I drove hundreds of miles and took thousands of pictures.  I have to be satisfied that I did all that I reasonably could under the circumstances.  But I’m not. I have spent the last two weeks thinking about what I could have done better, how I could have handled things differently, and wishing I had spent more time chasing down good ideas.    

    I had my individual project for this class handed to me on a figurative silver platter, Gerry Dumas, a local HVAC contractor, was the only spectator watching team Red take on Black at the Tam-O'-Shanter in Sylvania. Gerry yelled down to ask me whom I was shooting for, and we ended up talking for nearly an hour.  Gerry is an interesting character, from talking to him I could tell that he is a man of deep convictions, articulate, never at a loss for words and one very proud father.  Gerry's son Nick is a player on team Red and a successful local chiropractor. Nick is an energetic player, always in the heat of the action,  On a couple of occasions in the penalty box, I had an awesome human interest story delivered and ready to assemble.  

 Nick Dumas, in the penalty box

    Thankfully, I had the foresight to set the Canon 7D down on my coat, point it up towards Gerry and start recording video. That much I did correctly.
     Oh, I started off on the right foot, following the Sylvania senior hockey league for the next several weeks. The night I met Gerry I got about 10 minutes of decent background audio of him talking about his son. I took hundreds of pictures. (too many)  I knew that I’d be able to go back and get clean audio, detail shots, and good portraits of my subjects. As well as background images to give it some flavor.  Red team dutifully skated it’s way all the way to the championship, emerging victorious if unheralded.  Sure, I’d have time to flesh it out just a bit more.  I didn’t go out after a second story when I had time, thinking I had it wrapped up. 

     

Nick Dumas works past a white team defenseman.

    But I didn’t, our busy schedules combined with my reluctance to inconvenience people  I don’t really know, kept me from getting the rest of my story, and by then it was too late to start over.  I had to go with something that, in my mind, is half finished. I made too many images, creating for myself an editing nightmare

      The story is great, devoted father guiding his son through life, bonded through their mutual love of hockey, could have been great.  It had great characters, great stories, great background.  It’s heartwarming and positive, and it’s half done.               
       If I’m ever in this situation again, I’ll push, plead and beg for fifteen minutes I needed to get the rest of the material. I learned a valuable lesson.

Sunshine gives us a lesson in courage

Lynn G. and Shelly A. work to prepare the greenhouse at Sunshine Farm for spring planting. (No last names given)  PHO245/Aaron Gonya)

Mauren Sherry delivers

the clean laundry to Sunshine residents. 

    Storytelling is such a vital component of photography, without being able to tell a story all we are doing is making snapshots.  This semester has been a wealth of new experiences, especially with taking intro to photojournalism. I feel that I now have a better understanding of how photographs work together to tell a story. Going to the Sunshine with our class was another great lesson in working together, not just in how our pictures work together to tell a story, but how we as a class had to work together to cover a larger story than any of us had attempted alone.

Steven A. is assisted by Ashley from OTPT.
(Occupational therapy,physical therapy) 

    Working together was a lesson in how each of us, though we all have certain commonalities in our education, life experience and point of view. Each of us brought a different eye to our photographs, and in turn, each of us created very different images.

    I think all of us may have been a little outside our comfort zone that morning.  Sunshine is a very positive environment, but you would have to be a very embittered person not to feel for some of those people suffering bravely through disabilities we cannot begin to imagine. I felt genuine admiration for the courage and dedication of the staff and volunteers  who work tirelessly to give them the best quality of life possible.     

Another great hockey story I could have followed

    And why I need 40 hours in a day and 12 days in the week.

Karen Repass watches her son Jason playing
hockey. (PHO245/Aaron Gonya) 

     It’s almost the end of the semester, and with it comes the end of a class that I had wanted to take since I first learned  of it on my return to Owens.  Pho-245 has been one of the best classroom experiences that I have ever had. It’s been an incredibly fast paced journey these last four months, and I regret that it’s coming to an end.  tempered of course with bloggers complete inability to function effectively.

     I followed Sylvania senior hockey for most of the season, mostly to learn about shooting sports, the difficult lighting and incredibly fast motion have been a technical challenge for me.   More importantly were the host of life lessons learned about dealing with people, and looking for stories in unusual places, and I have learned that good stories are everywhere.   

Repass assists the goalie 

      Karen Repass has watched her son Jason play hockey his entire life. Karen and Jason would have made every bit as good a story as the one I chose.  Karen watched and supported her son through the years  from Jason playing for St. Johns to his career  in coaching to working with young kids learning Hockey.  I  watched “Red” as they are simply called, skate their way through the last month of the season and right to the championship.  And I will hopefully be able,  once this semester comes to an end, go back and do some work with the other programs at Tam-O-Shanter.  For now I just want to share these few pictures from the championship game, and get back to writing a few more of the many stories I found during the semester that I wish I could have shared. 

#24 Jason Repass 

Shooting environmental portraits

True Fox, owner of GT Wheels bicycles in Findlay, reaches for a tool to  adjust  

the brake system on a bicycle. PHO245/Aaron Gonya

   

 Stepping into an unfamiliar situation can be incredibly daunting. My first, ill-conceived attempt at shooting the portrait assignment ended with me stopping short of going inside the restaurant and taking a picture.  I backed away and had to rethink my entire strategy.  

  

       True Fox, owner of GT Wheels bicycles

       in Findlay

   


 The portrait assignment is a challenge, but not of the magnitude of the challenge True Fox faced last fall when a massive heart attack nearly took his life.  The Findlay bicycle shop owner is enjoying a busy spring season with brisk sales and loads of repairs. But a few months ago his future was a great deal more cloudy.  Knowing when to get help and the quick action of the Blanchard Valley Hospital saved Fox’s life.  A dedication to exercise and love for his family and work has kept him on the road back to health. 

    My challenge is the same one I’ve faced all semester, which is to walk into a situation, sometimes an unfamiliar one and get pictures. What makes it even more of a challenge is that some people, like True Fox, don’t terribly care to have their picture made.  Fox said, “I make it a point never to look directly at a camera.” I admit that his disdane for getting his picture taken is still a few steps above my absolute hatred of having my own taken.