Friday, September 9, 2011

Lights Out, San Diego

"My husband just texted.  They lost power out in El Cajon too" I heard from the lady across from me.

"Okay...so this is a fairly big deal" I thought (maybe 10 seconds after the power first went out).  My next thought was "Okay, I can get in my car and head home this second, or I might be waiting a while."  After witnessing the mass scare of 9/11...the general public is pretty predictable when it comes to scares.  Everybody freaks out.  We run to gas stations to fill up our cars, to the grocery for food and water.  The one thing I've learned is...you're probably better off not doing what everybody else is doing.  Sure...keep a spare tank of fuel in the garage; most importantly, some extra water under the house, but never...I mean never...get in your car in Mira Mesa at the same time everybody else is.  You will surely regret it.

After a couple hours, I headed home just before sunset.  As I got to the house, Linda had dozens of IKEA tea lights scattered throughout the house.  You don't see beautiful flickering light like this everyday.  What a treat.  She pulled meat and green beans from the fridge, and we had a romantic dinner out on the back patio.  In our neighborhood, it was amazing how clearly you could hear the few people rustling around.  One guy out in his yard playing the acoustic (I'd soon be doing the same).  You could hear all the insects around beating their wings, rejoicing at how much more natural the city now felt.

As a photographer, I knew that I needed to go out for a shoot.  My first thoughts were "I could either go atop Mount Helix and get a view of the lines of cars on highways parting the darkness, or head downtown and see what the city looked like from Coronado."  I ended up choosing the latter.  There was a definite allure to see skyscrapers and stars.


When I arrived at the Ferry port, I quickly noticed that I wasn't the only photographer around.  There must have been 25-30 of us out with our tripods and digital SLRs.  The city wasn't exactly what I expected either.  There were still several backup lights on, probably from diesel generators running on the building tops above.  And the red airplane safety lights dotted the skyline for all but the twin Harbor Club buildings.  Now, I don't know if this is some kind of city requirement, but if it is, Harbor Club, you failed the test.  You are totally busted.


From the residual light, the stars were still not visible at the lower levels of the horizon, but I still saw stars above the skyline (probably the only time I'll ever witness that).

I struggled to find the right shot.  I started by shooting the backs of people gazing out at the dark city.  To me, it was enjoyable to see the old retired navy officer chatting with the student from the middle east.  A simple, virtually meaningless tragedy had brought them together this night.  Unfortunately, the old man certainly took offense to me shooting their blurry forms during a lengthy exposure.  Technically, I have every right to post them, but at his discomfort...I agreed to scrap them.

The moonlight was a blessing and a curse.  It cast beautiful shadows and provided great light to work in, but it was difficult to get shots that really portrayed the darkness I needed...the reason I was there.


The red safety lights allow you to make up
the outline of the skyscraper.  The American
flag stays illuminated with backup power.
After a few shots, I was content...enough anyways.  I put my gear away, when everything lit up around me.  At 11:43, it appeared that SDG&E and flipped a switch, and the entire skyline came to life again.  Across the bay, you could hear hundreds of people shouting out their windows from the tall building - a harmony of "Woos" filled the air.  There wasn't a single soul near me who wasn't smiling.

Well, I hope you enjoy the photos...and any unique situation you might come across.  You can find enjoyment in almost anything if you look closely enough.

Cheers,
Ryan