By John Gress

The setting sun shimmered off of wind swept waves on Lake Erie as my plane took off for Chicago and I headed back to normal life, knowing that the people who I covered over the past three days will need a lot more than a 400 mile flight to return to their normal life. I flew to Cleveland on Monday after three women, Amanda Berry, Gina DeJesus and Michelle Knight, and a child escaped from the home of Ariel Castro after allegedly being held there for about a decade.

This was driven home to me on my last emotional stop in this northeast Ohio city, visiting Michelle Knight’s grandmother, Deborah Knight, at the end of a brick street that had more in common with a roller coaster than a freeway. While capturing her interactions with neighbor Sandra Guisao, I could tell that the news of Melissa’s escape was causing her to experience a range of emotions. One could only imagine the horror these women had to endure after allegedly being held captive and raped for about a decade and the excitement they must have experienced when they made their escape.

On the morning that I met Deborah Knight, I was also in the room with Castro as he was arraigned on the charges. He seemed meek, staring at the floor. I read in a newspaper that some observed him chewing the collar of his jump suit. His mouth was close enough in the photos, but I can’t say I saw it myself as I was too focused on trying to capture him when he looked up just enough so I could see his eyes. In these situations, the defendants never carry themselves the way you expect, leaving you with more and more questions… questions we will probably never get the answers to.

Both of these moments were in stark contrast to the day before when I photographed Amanda Berry’s and Gina DeJesus’ homecoming. At the Berry house, we were told that Amanda would make a statement when she arrived. Instead a chaotic scene erupted when she arrived in a van under what appeared to be a blanket. Her sister, Beth Serrano, then made the statement instead. Serrano caught me, and I am sure a lot of the other media, off guard when she quickly moved up within 10 feet of the phalanx of media and began to give a statement while holding back tears. We had expected her to speak from the porch and many of the cameras were left without a shot causing the media to crowd in, pushing and shoving, to capture the petite sibling. Being a tall photographer sometimes has its advantages as I was able to capture the moment… if she had only stayed on the porch.

Before Gina DeJesus made here arrival, the cameras were all set until a van passed with the victim inside and the police decided to allow us closer at the last minute, causing a crush of neighbors and photographers.

My height came in handy again when I was able to capture DeJesus’ victorious thumbs up while shooting over another photographer.

Michelle Knight remains in the hospital, awaiting her reunion with her grandmother.

By John Gress

It’s not every day that an assignment teaches you something about your own childhood.

When I was 7 years old my father, who shared my name, passed away and when I looked down today, I saw a boy, Ronnie Chambers Jr., who is about the same age as I was back then, sitting at my feet with RIP carved in the back of his hair. He was there mourning the loss of his father, who also shared his name.

Ronnie Chambers was shot in the head on January 26. His mother Shirley Chambers, has lost all four of her children to gun violence.

Seeing Ronnie Jr. today caused me to choke up a little, thinking about the parallels between his life and mine. Seeing him move about the church seemingly unaware of the gravity of the situation, explained to me in that moment why all I can recall about my fathers funeral was sitting in my uncles lap during the service and a photo of my father in his casket my mother used to keep in the glove box of her car.

For me, as significant as that day was, to a child it wasn’t much different than many other church experiences we have while navigating through the adult world. The situation was already emotional for me having met Ms. Chambers last week during an interview. Looking her in the eye and saying my goodbyes, I was left speechless, knowing there was nothing I could do to comfort her in her bereavement, other than a long look of solace and my silence.

By John Gress

UPDATE: January 24th

You never know how the assignment is going to go when you decide to put on the same clothes you had on the day before. Why? Because they smell like smoke!

I made a return trek to the ice castle today, an abandoned warehouse which has been burning for three days. Quite surprising considering most of the building has collapsed and is covered in inches of ice.

While covering the blaze today, I photographed firefighter Michael De Jesus covered in icicles. When he told me his name I asked, “Do you know Charley?”

He replied. “That’s my dad!” “Oh, I took pictures of him yesterday on the back side of the building.” “I know. He’s on the cover of the Red Eye,” Michael explained. Despite my conversation with Michael, I really didn’t expect the photo on the cover of one of the local papers to be my picture, because there were a lot of photographers covering the story. But sure enough, it was.  

I’m still stunned that my best pictures from both days were of people from the same family.

January 23rd: I woke up this morning, tossing and turning with all kinds of thoughts and ideas running through my head as I came up with concepts for a photo shoot I have on Friday. Then, the phone rang, it was Reuters Editor Hans Deryk asking me to take photos of a warehouse fire, apologizing for the early call. I told him, “Are you kidding me? I have been waiting for this for 10 years!”

Ever since I moved to Chicago I have heard about houses and buildings encased in ice following fires and yet I have never seen one with my own eyes. Keep in mind, it rarely snows in my native Portland, Oregon, so winter is a bit of a treat.

SLIDESHOW: CHICAGO’S DEEP FREEZE

Getting to the scene, I started to scope things out, seeing where pictures looked their best and feeling out how the police would act as I got close. Thankfully, today they were more concerned with keeping the public back and less inclined to exit their warm squad cars to keep the press at bay.

While the leeward side of the building was covered in ice, making great frames of icicle covered windows and firefighters in aerial platforms spaying down hot spots, I knew I had to make my way all around the building.

Once I made my way over ice, icy water and a little debris, I was on the windward side of the warehouse, sucking smoke and looking at trucks encased in ice, leaving my mind to wonder if their windows would still be intact once they thaw.

This winter wonderland is where I found Chicago Fire Department Lieutenant Charley De Jesus, making his way over the ice, keeping an eye on his men and occasionally breaking through a top layer of the glaze and sinking down to the snow and slush below.

It’s about this time that the inevitable happened… the hole in my boot that I had been thinking about ever since I left the house was now betraying me. So much for dry socks!

By John Gress

Every afternoon I walk through the front door and step over my mail. When I pick it up, I never think about where its been or how its made it to my home – God only knows, I guess, well sort of…

After spending most of Thursday with United States Postal Service employees, I know a lot more about how it made its way to my door than ever before.

At the dawn of each day, these dedicated civil servants handle amazing volumes of mail and packages (or as I learned during my time there, ‘the post”). I met a letter carrier who was slated to deliver a van load of mail and she said it was a light day.

While a lot of mail is electronically sorted, carriers begin their day by sorting some mail by hand and integrating it with the pre-sorted mail. At the same time, clerks sort packages by route and often times the letter carrier I met will begin her route by delivering mostly letters and then make a second round delivering packages.

So this week when I send off one of my ebay packages, I will think of the people I met who were up to their arm pits in boxes and appreciate even more the work they do to keep our economy moving.

By John Gress

Most of us climb stairs.

Some of us do it for exercise, some of us do it because there is no other option.

Many of us would complain that it’s a burden to ascend three floors, but for Zac Vawter climbing to the third floor of the Willis Tower on Sunday was an accomplishment – making it to the 103rd floor was historic.

Vawter took approximately 2100 steps to climb 1353 feet with the world’s first neural-controlled Bionic leg, according to the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago. Their Center for Bionic Medicine has worked to develop technology that allows amputees, like Vawter, to better control prosthetics with their own thoughts.

The first time I heard of the bionic leg was in April of 2011, when I watched 20-year-old Hailey Daniswicz, who lost most of her left leg to bone cancer, operate the leg of a computer avatar using her thoughts and electrodes attached to what was left of her own leg. It was inspiring seeing the technology and the sheer joy it brought to Daniswicz’s face.

Seeing Vawter, who lost his right leg to a motorcycle accident, now use the same technology to scale the Willis Tower, only made me wonder just how difficult his journey has been and just how empowering this moment must have been for the father of two. I am sure the joy he felt is something many of us have never experienced.