A Door, Man...

A door, man... August 2010 >> I used to see him almost everyday. He was stationed near the front door of the school where I worked. He came across as a very quiet, seemingly unassuming guy. He was pleasant enough. He smiled; I smiled; and we exchanged the requisite “good morning” greetings as I walked through the doors most days. “Who is this person?” I often asked myself. He was hard to read. He was rather quiet and to himself. He didn’t offer up much information in our brief daily exchanges, but then again, neither did I. This day, as I was leaving, I saw the sunlight through the doors, and shadows on the walls as he was noticing me leaving (as was his job). I asked him if he minded if take a couple of shots. He hesitated, and had that familiar, semi-confused look on his face that photographers often field that says "why do you want a picture of me, here, and now?" "There's nothing to see here…" Oh, but there was. As I sat down on the floor to shoot upward, he asked me what I wanted him to do. I said, "whatever you normally do." He stoically looked down and began pretending to write; I clicked the shutter, got up and thanked him, and then left. I only saw him a handful of times after that day. I'm glad I stopped. I know he was more than a doorman...