Reflected

Reedsburg's Veterans Memorial, a photo by meagan.porter on Flickr.

Maybe I'm getting a little sentimental in my old age, but I'll admit to tearing up a bit last Monday at the dedication of the new Veterans Memorial in Reedsburg.

It really seems like not so long ago that Jeff and I went to the groundbreaking. It was one of only a handful of events we've ever covered together, and I was only an intern at the time. The speakers then focused on a grand vision for that tiny corner of Nishan Park, and I had a hard time picturing it. As they stood there with their ceremonial shovels, posing for photos, the completion seemed so far off in the future, still a someday, still a dream. Three years later on July 4, the Memorial was finished.

I've visited my future in-laws in Washington D.C. a few times now and have hit up most of the touristy monument stops in the area. But I have never been moved the way I was last Monday, viewing the Reedsburg Memorial in its finished state for the first time. The glossy black granite panels display scenes from the US's past and current conflicts and fittingly, they also reflect the viewer. I went back early on Tuesday morning to get some shots of just the Memorial, including the photo above that I put on the front page later that day. Sitting on the warm cement in the exact center of the site, the environment was calm, quiet, meditative, the Memorial and flagpoles looming above me, stretching into the sky.

I grew up in Reedsburg, and I constantly marvel at how working for the Indy gives me a totally different perspective on my humble hometown. In the last three years, we've covered every fundraising effort for this Memorial, every Vet Fest, every raffle, every donation, and the Packer Tailgate that came to town last year just to name a few (of many) off the top of my head. Had I been just a citizen, I might have been too wrapped up in my own life to notice what was going on in that corner of Nishan Park, and how the citizens of Reedsburg were tirelessly working to make that dream a reality.

I've had very few profound moments in life, where everything seems to move slowly, where time stops, as though the world is in a vacuum and centers on that one moment. The last time was the June 2008 flood, walking away from Pineview Elementary, clutching my flood clean-up kit. This time the experience was positive. On Monday, a few hundred people came together to welcome this Memorial into the community, listening to speakers, exploring the grounds, celebrating the hard work and dedication of so many people. On Tuesday, I was fortunate to be able to spend some time with the Memorial, taking it in, observing and photographing and experiencing the stillness of the place. It was a privilege to cover this story over the past three years and to see the Memorial come to fruition.

More photos on my Flickr.

Take Me To Your Leader

Monona Terrace, October 2010.


I love the wacky architecture and unexpectedness of Monona Terrace in Madison. I've taken photos there before, striving to be different than the stereotypical touristy looking photos. The photo above captures that, I think.

It was taken after a particularly gluttonous trip to the Great Dane for dinner when John and I attempted to consume a turtle sundae for dessert. Big mistake. It was huge! I joked that we were going to have to be rolled down the hill toward home. Instead we waddled over to Monona Terrace, trying to walk off all that ice cream.

I barely remember taking this photo but I'm quite proud of it, as I haven't quite figured out how to take effective night shots. I have also been struggling to find a way to make those light fixtures look interesting; it has been difficult for me to capture the angles I can clearly see in person but have been unable to recreate on camera. The photo above does both nicely.

Wisconsin State Capitol Stairs

Wisconsin State Capitol Stairs, 2011.


John and I visited the State Capitol a few months ago to check out the Assembly Chambers as a possible wedding ceremony site. I hadn't been in any of the Capitol rooms since grade school field trips and barely remembered what they looked like. I'd read online that couples could use rooms in the Capitol for their ceremonies, and I knew at once that was where we'd get married.

I remember hearing once when I was younger and just starting to drive in the big, scary world on my own that all roads in Madison lead to the Capitol. It's sort of true; Madison is a concentrically designed city, with the Capitol as the center point and all major roads branching out from it like spokes on a wheel.

But since I moved downtown, I've started to think about that phrase more and more in a philosophical sense. We are always around the Capitol - going out at night, restaurants, Farmers' Markets, getting from here to there. Even when we're not near it, it's a beacon on the skyline, and I always get a little shiver when it unexpectedly pops into view, towering brightly over everything else.

So it was only fitting that it was where John proposed, and it would be the location where we would hold our wedding ceremony, in the grandness of the Assembly Chambers.

A month or so after John and I woke up early on a Wednesday to visit the Capitol during business hours, the building was flooded with protestors, the drama unfolding on the national stage. Suddenly everyone, everyone was talking about the Madison Capitol building, the Assembly, the protests. A building that was virtually empty less than a month before was overflowing, bursting with people and noise and heat. After a frantic call from the Sergeant at Arms, we finally secured our date a month after we originally intended, which is fine. "I've worked here for 14 years," he told me on the phone, "and I've never seen anything like this."

I assured him I was fine with it, that we didn't have our hearts set on the date but we were not willing to compromise on the location.

The photo above was taken on our first visit to the Assembly Chambers, long before Scott Walker made his announcement, long before the protestors came in droves. I was attracted to the scrollwork on the stairs, the lines and framing, the attention to detail.