A rephotographic survey of sorts.

Oddly enough it was this image that prompted me, in the downtime of my mother's care a few years back, that I set out to remake this photograph as a homage to someone I hold in high regard. Jim Megargee is his name, and I, years ago was his assistant. You see he, Jim, was probably the most influential guide in my life as a photographer. We shared a link in Pennsylvania. He once lived near where my mother spent her years after I left Philly.

I had an uncontrollable urge to find this spot. Armed with a shitty screen shot, I went milling around the area I suspected it was made. Numerous conversations with locals lead me to the bridge above in Phoenixville, PA. There was no parade that day but I waited and waited for a moment with the flavor of his moment. It never came. I settled for an empty bridge void of Jim's elegant sense of time and passed it along via the U.S. mail.

I've come to realize it was the pursuit of that spot that was the actual homage to Jim. The strength of a photograph to guide someone somewhere to see where an image was made. A fraction of a second to push the button, hour after hour to print the image (sidenote: Jim once told me you can't make a good print without scotch and cigarette ashes in the developer) and the nerve to share it with the world.

I stood in the same spot, with the same single stroke Leica M3 adorned with Summicron bugeyes some 30+ years after this shot was made.

Thank you, Jim.