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'VE ALWAYS WANTED to do something meaningful in life. In my 37 years, I've hit many mile-stones. I served my country. Went to college and obtained a degree. Started a career in a field that I love. Married the best woman I've ever met and started a family that has become my universe.
However, I was still searching for a purpose that would lead to greater individual achievement and personal fulfillment. I want to someday look back on my life and be secure in the knowledge that I used my time to accomplish some good in the world.
I never dreamed that it would take an event as epic as Hurricane Katrina to launch me toward my goal.
Operation Photo Rescue was born out of a personal need to do more for the storm victims than the old clothing, canned foods and meager monetary donations that I was able to offer initially to those in need.
It was also important to me as a journalist, who has witnessed enough of the tragedies of others, to be able to put my camera down and stand face to face with those in need--and tell them that I'm here to help.
OPR's mission is simple: to save as many of the storm-damaged family photos as we can get our hands on, all free of charge. Insurance can't restore memories--but we can.
This grass-roots organization, started by staff photographer Becky Sell and me, with substantial support from The Free Lance-Star, has truly blossomed into the fulfillment that I have been searching for. It's also an effort that has taken on global proportions, as we have heard from volunteers from as far away as Europe and Africa.
I'm in danger of OPR taking over my life. It is an exciting and trying time. In my sleep, I have even dreamed about restoring photographs.
Our goal--and the path to what I see as my life's greatest achievement--is to create a permanent non-profit organization that will continue to restore the images damaged by Katrina--and to restore those that will be damaged by future disasters.
The effort has been full of highs and lows. It's the greatest feeling in the world to see the tremendous gratitude in the eyes of those we are helping.
And it's devastating to tell some that the only photos that they have left are beyond saving.
The big pictureWhile the tremendous support and the vast number of volunteers who have joined our effort amaze me, I've also experienced some disappointment with the photojournalism community by the overall lack of attention to our cause.
Sure, we have received plenty of attention from the media--and our story has been broadcast and written about several times over. However, it was Becky's and my hope that our idea would take flight with others in our professional community--photojournalists, editors, and perhaps newspapers following our lead and pitching in.
Sadly, that hasn't happened, with the exception of our own co-workers, a select few individual photojournalists, and a large number of the photo staff at the St. Petersburg Times in Florida.
We hope to be able to rally more troops when we make presentations about OPR during a couple of upcoming photojournalism conferences.
In a way, I think the lack of professional support is very telling about the nature of the society in which we live. If a story is on TV and makes the headlines on the front page, then people talk about it.
As soon as the media attention wanes, general interest does, too.It won't be a hot topic again until a year later, when it's time to write and tape the anniversary follow-up stories.
Meanwhile, those people who are living it are left to fend for themselves.
ReflectionsDriving into Pass Christian, Miss., for the first phase of OPR on Jan. 28, I was immediately overcome by feelings of bewilderment. I simply couldn't believe that I was in America anymore.
It wasn't the level of devastation that created an alien landscape, but more that nothing much seemed to have changed since Hurricane Katrina tore through the area back in late August.
Homes and businesses still lay where they fell. The police station looked as if it had burst at the seams.
Debris littered the branches of the mighty oaks that line the town streets. The air in the beach-front community was eerily missing the cries of seagulls.
Life goes on in the Pass. Steadfast residents and small pockets of determined volunteers, like the young men and women of AmeriCorps, are working hard to clean the land and rebuild the town--but I can't help but wonder why more isn't being done.
Where's the American spirit of "United We Stand"? Why isn't there an army of volunteers helping these people?
Sally James, the children's librarian of the Pass Christian Library, can attest to this. Immediately after the storm, they were inundated with donated books, movies on VHS tapes, and some new electronic equipment like computers and VCRs.
Months after the storm, James is grateful for all that's been given, but a little frustrated that very few think about what's needed now.
"We keep getting books, and that's wonderful, but we still need help just paying the electric bill to keep the lights on," she notes.
Becky and I won't let OPR be the type of charitable organization that swoops in, does some good, and then hits the road. I don't mean to be critical of anyone or any organization that gives freely of its time, resources, and efforts. Anyone who helps deserves credit for doing so. As a country, though, we need to realize that problems like this can't be cured with Band-Aids. It takes long-term commitment to help our fellow citizens to get back up on their feet.
Operation Photo Rescue is in it for the long haul--and then some.
