First, there is darkness.
And in the darkness stream forth the sparks of a blade.
The sparks arc away from where a spinning saw blade slices through the roof in the gymnasium of the old Robert E. Lee High School building on Churchville Avenue in Staunton.
How many basketball games were played in this place?
How many fans cheered and how many memories is scattered about the corners?
Although not exactly shrouded in true darkness, the massive room is dimly lit with work lights along with an assortment of workers and equipment involved in the renovations.
When a sliver of light appears in the ceiling above, we are reminded of just how low the lighting really is.
When three of the four sides of the section being cut away are complete, the form of Joey Henderson of Mathers Construction appears through the newly cut opening.
Saw in hand, the construction worker considers the best way to finish the final cut for what will become a skylight overlooking the future atrium at Gypsy Hill Place.
Often, we walk around a small city such as Staunton without knowing or really seeing the local history that has transpired and passed away.
As with people, localities evolve and change with the times.
If they do not, they disappear and are lost among the rubble left in the wake of the next modern age.
One of the blessings of my job is that as a photojournalist, I am a witness to not just history, but the evolution of our localities.
When people walk through downtown Staunton, they marvel at the historic beauty and flavor of the place.
They take in the brick sidewalks, the renovated buildings and even the final touches such as the illuminated sign above the Stonewall Jackson Hotel.
But for me as a photojournalist, I remember what it was like to live through the “Big Dig” that ripped up the sidewalks in downtown Staunton and replaced concrete with red brick.
I also remember the years of darkness when the Stonewall Jackson Hotel’s sign remained unlit.
It was back in the days before the hotel’s restoration to its current glory.
And as with the R.R. Smith Center for Art and History a block from the hotel, I remember what the old buildings looked like before they were wrapped in scaffolding and reborn.
When the dust settles, these places add to the local flavor in new ways, yet their past history, renovations and changes often become the forgotten building blocks in our own history.
So as I watch the first hole being cut into the ceiling for the first of the skylights in Gypsy Hill Place’s atrium, I capture images of a quiet moment in history when an old building gains new life and evolves alongside our community. |
