Director’s Statement

Keeping the May River Wild

I came to the May River on a temporary mission in 1981. I’d been hooked by its subtle beauty a few months earlier, after my parents retired to Bluffton, S.C. And my mission – to care for my dying father – while a heavy downer, offered a unique chance to understand and experience a unique place.

Along the way, I “got marsh mud stuck ’tween my toes,” as the natives say. I split after Dad died, but within a few years I was back, with a wife and twin sons we would rear on the river’s shores and in her marshes. Before returning, I had begun – with infants in tow – a master’s degree from Ohio University.

“Keeping the May River Wild” is something I had to do. It comprises my work and knowledge gleaned from nearly 30 years of living, photographing and rearing my family on a unique, tidal body of water. It also fulfills my final requirement for a Master of Arts in Visual Communication from Ohio University, an effort that took 26 years. Producing it tested  every part of me, but particularly the skills and knowledge gained from class, from workshops and from my own study.

I’m known mostly as a still photographer, but about half my career has involved writing and editing words, including interviewing cinematographers. In 1999 I joined the first Platypus Workshop to teach video storytelling to still photojournalists. I learned my varied background prepared me for movin’ pitchers. I invested in a Canon Optura camcorder. But it took more workshops and my readmission to Ohio to move me forward from dabbling to a serious project.

I spent a quarter on campus, filling in blanks left in my transcript. But there was no room for me in production and editing classes. I had to learn Final Cut Pro on Lynda.com, with help from friends and my now-grown son. I learned how to adapt my interview style to video. I wrestled with syncing sound from a separate digital recorder. And Lew Hunter’s “Screenwriting 434” helped me turn 10 interviews and two decades of photography into the script for a documentary short.

The biggest effort was in some ways the easiest: packing myself and my gear into a kayak, morning after morning, week after week, paddling into the marsh and seeing what I found. On the surface, I found mud, heat, cold, corrosive saltwater, voracious sand gnats and that I could pee into a bottle. But beneath, I learned how to find and relate to wild creatures. I learned more patience than rearing children taught me. I confirmed my fears for the river. And I learned I could produce compelling work with simple tools.

I’m thrilled others – locally and far abroad – can sense the joy and loss my tale tells. And I hope, against odds, this makes a difference.