Photographers Blog

McClellanville, South Carolina

By Randall Hill

In a thick strand of woods in rural Georgetown County, South Carolina, the self-proclaimed “Gullah Huntsman” Bill Green prepares for his latest drag fox hunt. It’s a cool day in early February and the stocky built African-American man sits comfortably atop his trusted horse.

“You got to treat these animals with loving kindness,” he says with a smile referring to the fox hunting hounds and horses he trains for these events. “If you don’t treat them well they won’t do what you want.”

Green pulls from a stained and worn saddlebag a wet rag tied to a long rope. The strong, pungent smell of fox urine covers the area around him like a cloud when he opens the bag. It’s an odor so strong one doesn’t need the olfactory prowess of a dog to detect.

On this day Green is portraying the fox in this hunt presented by the Middleton Place Hounds, a foxhunting club of Charleston. The club has traveled to plantation land in nearby Georgetown County owned by one of its members.

The members of Middleton Place Hounds take pride in conducting drag hunts where no live foxes are used or killed in events. With that idea, Green is hired to drag the urine soaked rag through the woods, giving the hunt club’s hounds a scent to follow and their horses a path to chase.

By Sara Stathas

As a photographer, I am inspired to make work about people who have an extreme passion and enthusiasm for something near and dear to them. I seek out the quirky interests that Americans, in particular, have intense love for and use that as inspiration for making photos. I moved back to Wisconsin, the place that I grew up, after being away for a decade, and I’m rediscovering and seeking out some of the passions unique to Midwesterners.

The draw of the largest freshwater surfing event in the country, the Dairyland Surf Classic, held in Sheboygan, Wisconsin, sounded right up my alley as a photo opportunity.

I headed up to Sheboygan on Saturday of the Labor Day weekend, the busiest day of surf and paddling competitions, according to their schedule. I rolled into sleepy downtown Sheboygan at about 8:30am, noticing a Honda Camry with a surfboard strapped to the roof following me east towards Lake Michigan. I parked along the bluff at Deland Park, near a group of dudes peeling off their wet suits after their early morning surf session.

By Mark Makela

July 20, 3:30am; Wise, Virginia. Early morning darkness covered the hills and valleys. Despite the rain 500 people had already lined up for free medical and dental care. You know it is a unique shoot when your assignment begins here.

The day before I had driven 10 hours from Philadelphia to get to the Remote Area Medical (RAM) three-day clinic in southwest Virginia. RAM has been providing free healthcare since 1985 for uninsured and underinsured Americans and for people worldwide. This would be their 674th expedition. RAM began as a parachuting operation in the Amazon founded by the humanitarian, Stan Brock.

GALLERY: REMOTE AREA MEDICAL CLINIC

I knew that there was positive foreshadowing when my first frame was of a bemused chihuahua named Bella standing on her hind legs with her owner.

By Michael Spooneybarger

“They are fast, smart and dangerous – the most prized hunting animal in ancient Greece, the wild boar. Considered a test of bravery, wild pigs have thick bones and a tough hide, making anything but a death shot a potentially fatal mistake.”

That was the first message I got after agreeing to a weekend hog hunt in Alabama. I have hunted pig many times as a BBQ aficionado, but that has been scanning a menu trying to decide on pork ribs, pork sandwich or going with beef.

SLIDESHOW: HOG HUNTING IN ALABAMA

The next memo from writer Verna Gates: “Photography equipment should be as silent as possible without flash as pigs are very keen and will run away. We don’t want the other hunters shooting at us….”

By Randall Hill

Sweat pours down the face of Scott’s BBQ pit worker Willie Johnson as he uses a large mop to apply sauce on a rack of chickens cooking in the pit house. The smoke pouring from the sides and tops of the 10 pits in use that day hover over him like a white translucent blanket. The early morning light pierces through the blanket and forms contrasting shades of light that seem to bounce around the ceiling looking for a way to escape to the outside.

Johnson has been at the pit house all night, like he has done many times before, watching over the process of the 12-plus hours it takes to cook the BBQ at Scott’s. It’s very hard work to cook BBQ the traditional way they do at the Hemingway, South Carolina restaurant and pit house.

SLIDESHOW: THE LOST ART OF TRUE BBQ

Workers, mostly family members of owner Rodney Scott, have to gather and cut the large amount of hardwood needed for the process. The rear of the pit house contains a large supply of oak, hickory and pecan cut in large sections to be later split and burned.