evidence of absence

[jazzfish]

Back in mid-February, my cousin Paul went to Helena for my uncle Jim's funeral. He took some photos while he was there. I paged through them last night. Some are of various places around Helena, and you really get a sense of how ovwewhelmingly /poor/ the city is. Most are of Jim's place: the machine shop, the house, the field.

I was doing alright up until I got to the shot of Jim's bedroom, and then the one after (a very cluttered counter with, among other things, a Budweiser can with a note under it reading "POP'S LAST BEER").

It's easy for me to romanticise Jim. I never had to live with him, so all I saw was the good times, and all I heard was the good stories from people who didn't want to remember the bad things. Still, to me he was good people, and interesting, and (from what I could see) doing what he wanted to be doing.

And now I have reference photos for whenever I get back to working on that damned story.