It’s story time! I recently sat down with The Milty’s World Podcast for a conversation about Bruce Willis, 2 Chainz and where my photography career began.
So, if you wanna hear some stories and see my big forehead now is your opportunity! 😂
Thanks!
-Daniel C. Shippey
Daniel Shippey talks with Bruce Willis while on the set of a movie in Jackson, Mississippi in 2021 | Photo by Brittney Roberts
Bruce Willis | Photo by Daniel Shippey
2 Chainz for Amazon Music | Photo by Daniel Shippey
My photography studio has been open for 15 years this month!
I distinctly remember the day I opened the studio. It was late February of 2009. At the time, my landlord's office was around the corner in an old former train depot in downtown Tifton, GA. After signing the papers and handing over my deposit, I received a key. I walked back to the studio from my landlord's office and used the key to open the back door by myself for the very first time... Voila, I have a studio.
Granted, I had no studio lights, no backdrops or very many clients. Only a single mediocre DSLR circa 2006 with a mediocre kit lens. I didn't even have internet for the first couple of years. I would mooch wifi from the apartments surrounding my studio. When I couldn't find an open network, I would carry my laptop outside to the back parking lot so I could use the neighboring library's wifi. This is how I operated for a good while. It was very humble beginnings.
I was 23 years old.
The photos above were taken shortly after I opened the studio in 2009.
I would go to my studio and sit on one of the old vintage sofas and think to myself, "What have I done?" And then came a rush of internal questions about myself and the career path I was going down. I questioned whether I was truly a professional photographer or not. I asked myself if this was indeed a viable career choice. I wondered if people genuinely liked my work enough to pay for it. Mostly I asked myself, "How can I make this work?" I still frequently ask myself that same question. It's an endless stream of doing what I love mixed with the challenges of being a full-time, creative photographer and small business owner. These challenges help keep me humble yet sharp still today.
I had already been doing photography professionally for about five years when I opened the studio. And I use the term “professional” very loosely to define what level of skill and ability I was at between the ages of 17 and 23. In spite of those being formative years, I do consider that time period to be very important to my photography journey.
Opening the studio changed everything for me, though. Having the studio made me a business owner. Whether I understood what it took to own a business or not, I had officially opened one. I did not have any formal training on marketing, finances, websites or even photography. I had to learn those things on my own for the most part. I had to readjust my approach to pricing in order to pay for the studio's bills. My standards for work and how I handle clients changed, too. My portfolio became more cohesive as my style continued to develop.
I still believe in pushing the equipment you have to max because I was unable to afford very much of it early on. On my film cameras, every shot had to count. No freebies or looking at the back of my camera to decide if it turned out okay or not. I like to think I took that same mentality into the studio with my digital cameras. A lot can be accomplished even with minimal gear.
When I did finally get some lights and backdrops I started to experiment. I loved to incorporate tricks and techniques that I had learned on my film cameras. Long exposures and multiple exposures have always been fun for me on film and I didn’t want to leave those techniques behind after I switched to a DSLR. When I opened the studio I had only been using a digital camera for about 3 years. 📸
The photos above were taken between 2009-2014 at my studio - The first five years.
It was great to suddenly have access to clients outside of my friend group. My name, website and business number were on the windows of a building in downtown. In addition to the calls and emails, people would occasionally walk into my studio from off the street and book a photoshoot. It was sort of astounding to me at first. 😂 It’s just the memory of some random person walking through the door and me standing there not knowing how to talk to them. Somehow it worked out and I booked my first walk-in photoshoot.
Since then I have photographed bands, actors, athletes, models, lawyers, real estate agents, doctors, babies, families, products and more at the studio. Creative Portraits and Headshots are my favorite things to photograph at my studio.
The studio has meant a lot to me over the years. I still personally enjoy spending my mornings and afternoons listening to music while editing at my desk. The old building has been my personal haven and home-away-from-home. I like being there. The way the afternoon light hits the molded tin ceiling to cast long shadows is something I always look up to see. The ceiling is one of the first things many people notice about the studio when they walk in. It is certainly very old if not original to the building. The wood floors appear to be original as well. It’s an interesting old building.
I will never forget the first time someone told me the studio was haunted… 👻
One day I was editing in my office just after lunch when I heard the front door open. Little bells on a ribbon tied ‘round my door handle jingled and a woman introduced herself. I cannot remember her name today but she was interested in local history and wanted to see the building. She told me to research old fire insurance maps to see if I could figure out when the building was built. I looked into it and discovered that the studio was built sometime between 1904 and 1907. I found a map from 1904 and it wasn't on the map but it appeared in the 1907 map. The only words providing any information about the building was the word "music" written within the outlines of the structure on the map.
The woman was walking around the studio commenting on the old tin ceiling design as she walked through the threshold of the door leading into the back room. This room is the largest in the studio and is where I do most of my photoshoots. When she entered this room her entire mood changed. She stopped talking and looked a little stunned. She said she was suddenly cold and then looked at me and said, "You have a presence here.”
Take that for whatever you will. Over the years, I have had multiple people tell me stories about what they have experienced in the studio. Visitors have claimed to sense a presence in the studio, particularly in the back two rooms. I have had clients pause during sessions to tell me they felt a rush of cool wind next to them. The most unusual tale involves two separate sightings of the ghost of a little girl wearing a white dress. Two people who do not know each other both told me they had seen the figure of a girl move quickly from right to left across the threshold of the back room. This is the same room where the lady had first told me she sensed a presence.
Yes, I do think about these stories often when I am at the studio alone late at night. The building has been sufficiently prayed over countless times by myself as well as others. I personally have never seen nor experienced anything at the studio that could not be explained.
However, one of the strangest experiences that I have ever had in my 120 year old building did occur while I was editing photos late at night. So, it is an old structure and the reality is old buildings sometimes have critters. Well, one time I had a massive rat take up residence between my ceiling and the upstairs apartment floorboards. Ever so often I would hear its feet tapping as it scurried across the tin ceiling panels. It was particularly awkward whenever I had a client in the studio for a shoot and they would ask what that funny noise was. I would usually brush it off and say something like, “The upstairs neighbors have a cat.” All the while I knew it was a rat!
On this particular night, I heard the rat take off running and then suddenly there was a loud whoosh noise as a sand, nails and wood fell through a hole in my ceiling… And down with it all came the rat! I ran into the room and saw a huge rat on the ground, motionless but still breathing. From the tip of its snout to the end of its tail, this rat was at least 18 inches long. I scooped it up with a snow shovel (no clue why I have a snow shovel in South Georgia). Then I placed the rat into a big plastic garbage bag and walked to a dumpster behind the library to dispose of it. I wonder if it died there or if it was only stunned from the fall and came to life to find itself in a smorgasbord of dumpster delight. Either way, I was happy it was no longer in my studio.
The photos above are from early Acoustic/Art Shows between 2009-2014.
I remember the first Acoustic/Art show I hosted at my studio. Booking shows and events was something I had never considered until I opened my own business. At the time I was doing promotional and tour photography for several bands from Tallahassee, Jacksonville and Atlanta and decided it would be cool to host acoustic shows that featured them.
I hosted these so-called Acoustic/Art shows at my studio from 2009-2018. A few times a year I would host a night of original music and artwork. Most of the bands that played were people I worked with. Bands like Stages and Stereos, Hello Danger and Select Start. Many locals also played these shows including Derrick Dove, Kade Williamson and Hagin Henderson. The bands would play music in the back room in front of the exposed brick wall while the crowd sat on sofas and the floor or stood. Visual artists would display their work in the front rooms of the studio. Painters, wire wrap artist and other photographers all displayed their creations and sold them.
The last show I hosted was in February of 2018. Derek Sanders from Mayday Parade was the headliner. It was the largest show I ever hosted. Roughly 200 people purchased tickets in addition to the artists, bands and friends I let in for free. We had to turn away people at the door because it was so cramped and crowded in the studio. I was so full of joy yet also overwhelmed by the season of change. It was a night of mixed emotions for me.
The photos above were taken by Matt Zagorski and Scott Strickland on February 24, 2018. It was the last show at my studio before I moved to Tennessee. Pictured: Daniel Shippey, Daniel Lancaster, Derek Sanders, Erica Bitting, Kade Williamson and Derrick Dove.
That same year I moved away to Nashville, Tennessee and thought that a chapter had closed and another one opened… I thought the show would be the last one I would ever host and no more photoshoots in the studio were to be. I was about to close my studio for good. My hometown newspaper even ran a story on the front page about my last show and studio closure. I had been wrestling with the decision for months leading up to and after the last Acoustic/Art show. That’s when an idea popped into my head.
I had become accustomed to renting studios for shoots whenever I would travel to cities like Nashville, Atlanta and New York. And the thought occurred to me, I can give photographers in my area access to what I can offer.
Today, my studio is rented several times a month by other local photographers. They have access to my lights, backdrops and entire space for their own shoots. I also encourage them to bring in their own lighting and gear. I hope it has been a good thing for the local photography community. I would love to see a few other photographers make use of my space. No matter what skill level, shooting in a studio is a good, fun challenge. I encourage people to reach out to me about renting my studio.
Eventually, I returned from Tennessee, bought a house in Tifton and continued my work at the studio. I still travel constantly to places like Tennessee, West Virginia, New York and Florida for photoshoots. I relish the days I am able to do a photoshoot in my hometown from the comfort of my very own studio space.
The studio has allowed me to grow in so many ways as a person and a photographer. The excitement of a creative process to the mundane business work of writing checks and doing taxes has provided a broad spectrum of experience for me. I’m so glad I took a chance and opened a photo studio 15 years ago. Photography has truly only been part of owning the studio for me.
These photos of my studio were taken in February of 2024.
Thank you Tifton, GA and everyone from my hometown who has ever given me the opportunity to photograph them. Also, thanks to everyone from out of town who has ever driven to my studio because they liked my work. It means a lot. Truly. I couldn’t do what I do without the support of others.
I would also like to thank my parents, Herbert and Sue Shippey, for always standing by me in my endeavors. They have helped me and encouraged me throughout the highs and lows. Their support has been tremendous. Mom once told me, “If you can make it through the first five years you can make it through anything.”
Saying thank you to my girlfriend Olivia Richardson wouldn’t be enough for all of her support and understanding with this weird, unpredictable career of mine. Olivia once told me something along these lines: “Dating you is like watching a TV series but starting cold turkey mid-way through the show’s 7th season all while trying to understand the previous seasons.” Haha There’s just a lot to get caught up on, I guess. And I have to say thanks to Olivia for being the best test subject for new ideas and for-fun photos. I enjoy making the memories. Thank you for loving me!
There are no plans to close the studio. I might have it another 15 years, I might not. Only time will tell. The hourglass ensures us all that time is just on loan. Until the end, I hope my favorite photoshoots and memories at the studio are still yet to come.
-Daniel C. Shippey
Saint James | Restaurant in Thomasville, Georgia. Photographed for THOM Magazine, Fall 2023 issue.
Food and Restaurant photography has been something I have done quietly for nearly a decade. It began mostly as an adjunct to my editorial photography for THOM Magazine as well as other publications like Good Grit Magazine and South Magazine. I learned food and restaurant photography fast and out of necessity for the editorial pieces and ads I was assigned to. These sort of assignments usually center around unique restaurants, bars as well as their creative owners and chefs.
Now it’s time to share some of my food and restaurant work. I hope to collaborate more with restaurants to refine this area of my photography.
I received a text from my friend Justin via another friend Durrell asking if I was down to photograph 2 Chainz in Atlanta. Completely out of nowhere! The production house was looking for an entertainment photographer. So, I was put in touch with the right people and was headed to ATL a few days later.
The photo shoot was ultimately for Amazon Music. 2 Chainz was the host of an Amazon Music Live concert series that aired after every NFL Thursday Night Football game the past season. The show featured live, never-before-seen performances from currently trending artists.
2 Chainz started freestyling in the middle of our shoot… 🤯 I never know what to expect when I work with musicians and actors! They’re either cool, not cool or simply trying to get through the day… 2 Chainz was cool to work with. We didn’t talk much beyond what was necessary for the work but he seemed to like what he saw on the screen of my camera.
I was sitting at The Pub in Tifton, GA when I saw the commercial for the show for the first time. You can view the which aired on national TV HERE.
The project required me to be at the production studio all day. I had two separate sessions with 2 Chainz. One portion of the shoot we used a giant LED wall with brilliant colors. The other on my white seamless paper backdrop. Here are some of the images I captured:
“This is the most fascinating and peaceful place in the world to me. It’s rich in wildlife, history and infinite beauty. The great Okefenokee Swamp. The Land of the Trembling Earth. My name is Okefenokee Joe. This swamp was once my home. I lived here. I learned here. This is where I became… Swampwise!”
I was sitting at Reagan National Airport in Washington D.C. waiting for a flight back to Georgia when I learned about the passing of Okefenokee Joe. I wasn’t sure if it was true or not so I picked up my phone and called his number…
Okefenokee Joe was known across the state of Georgia, South Georgia in particular, as the host and narrator of Swampwise on Georgia Public Broadcasting. He was a musician, educator, conservationist, storyteller and notable cultural figure. Okefenokee Joe passed away on Monday, January 9, 2023 at age 90.
I would like to share my memories and personal experience with Okefenokee Joe. To do that I also need to share some factual information about him. First, let me simply state what a tremendous impact Okefenokee Joe had on a large number of people. We have truly lost a great man and a cultural icon.
Long before Okefenokee Joe there was Dick Flood. He was born on November 13, 1932 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. From an early age he had a knack for guitar, singing, songwriting, storytelling and the outdoors.
Flood served in the U.S. Army during the early 1950s in Korea. After his time in the Army, Flood started his first band, The Luzon Valley Boys. By 1956, Flood was given a regular spot on The Jimmy Dean Show. From there he did various USO tours of Europe, Africa and Asia to perform for U.S. troops abroad.
He moved to Nashville, Tennessee in 1959 to pursue music. There he co-write many songs with Golden Era country artists such as Jimmy Dean, Bill Anderson, Roy Orbison, Fred Foster and many others. Flood also performed at The Grand Ole Opry nearly every weekend for two years straight between 1960-1961.
You can listen to his music here on Spotify.
After leaving Nashville in the early 1970s, Flood ventured south where spent many years in the Okefenokee Swamp in Southeast Georgia. He also spent considerable time in the Everglades in Florida. He would spend the better part of a decade living off the land in very primitive ways. He immersed himself in the outdoors and learned much about nature.
Flood eventually changed his name to Okefenokee Joe in the 1980s. He decided to share his knowledge of environmental and conservationist efforts and began speaking at schools, creating documentaries and appearing on Georgia Public Broadcasting shows such as Georgia Outdoors. Okefenokee Joe went on to win an Emmy Award for his documentary, Swampwise.
I encountered Okefenokee Joe as a young child. I remember watching his programs on TV at my parent’s house and finding everything so interesting and entertaining. He had a very specific mystique or persona about himself that was alluring. Okefenokee Joe embodied something like a mountain man, an old Indian chief and a great-grandfather all somehow rolled into one man.
Of course, the years passed, I got older and Okefenokee Joe became memory. One late night in the summer of 2021 Okefenokee Joe came up in conversation between me and my friend Nick. I told Nick I used to watch Okefenokee Joe on TV when I was growing up. I wondered if he was still alive and thought to myself just how many years had gone by. Sitting there on my sofa, I decided to look him up and discovered a Website and Facebook page. I located an email address and sent a brief message. I expressed how much I enjoyed everything he did and I proposed that we do a simple photoshoot. The next morning, to my surprise, I received this email from Okefenokee Joe:
Hey young Daniel Shippey! Glad to hear from you. And I thank you for remembering me. Sure I am interested in that photoshoot. I am not as pretty as I once was. I am now almost 89 years old and can't help the way I look (or feel). For the past three years due to a left hip replacement gone bad I have been a semi cripple. But I am real busy writing and promoting my books and recording some more of my original songs. Anyhow heck yeah I'm interested in that photoshoot. I live in the woods about midway between Augusta Georgia and Columbia South Carolina now. Phone # *** *** ****
Give me a call.
Okefenokee Joe / Dick Flood
I called Okefenokee Joe that day and had a wonderful conversation. The gravelly, baritone voice coming through the phone sounded kind and friendly. It was a little hard to believe it was actually him talking with me. We set up a date for the photoshoot and a few days later I was on the highway.
My girlfriend Olivia joined me and we left Tifton, Georgia early in the morning on August 11, 2021 to drive up to South Carolina. Okefenokee Joe lived in a very specific and unique fashion even into his old age. Once Olivia and I left the main highway we proceeded down a narrow, sandy dirt path that twisted through pine and oak trees. His house appeared in a small clearing. It was a small house built of wood with a red tin roof and a small garden nearby. Various odds and ends were scattered around the front porch. Barrels, baskets, old rusted saws, firewood, an American flag and three old wooden rocking chairs.
Click on the photos to enlarge.
I knocked and after a long moment the doorknob rotated slowly, the door opened and there he was… Okefenokee Joe!
He dressed in a tank top and shorts. His hair was pulled back and he wore a leather necklace bearing a simple image of an eagle. His eyes twinkled and he smiled broadly. He was very welcoming to us.
Okefenokee Joe used a walker to join us on the front porch. The three of us sat down in the old rocking chairs together. He continued to express how poorly he must look but we encouraged him and told him he looked absolutely fine to us. He was excited to have visitors and was eager to talk with us. We settled in and began talking about various things.
Click on the photos to enlarge.
I had my guitar with me and some papers of old songs I had written years ago. I haven’t really performed or played for many people over the last decade. Only here and there has anyone heard me sing or play the guitar. So, I opened my guitar case, gave fair warning that “this might not be very good” and played a song or two for Okefenokee Joe and Olivia. He seemed to like it and said something to the effect that I had a “young, strong voice.” 😂 I wasn’t sure what to think about that but was eager to hear him play.
After a while Okefenokee Joe invited Olivia and I to come inside to show us some of his songs and other things. He opened the refrigerator and offered us his leftover pot roast. We politely declined since we had already had food earlier.
Okefenokee Joe’s house was dimly lit but comfortable and cozy. We followed him from the kitchen, through the living room and in to a back room. Everything hit me when I entered this room. All of his accomplishments and knowledge was on the walls. The room also told me that he was still very actively creating and collaborating.
This room was decorated with relics of the past and present. There was a computer and microphone that he used for recording on the far side of the room. Native American items given to him by various Seminole people decorated all four walls. Some items he said were purchased at Pow-Wow gatherings but others were personal gifts including several pipes, flutes and knives. Brilliantly colored Native American inspired fabrics covered the windows and walls. Dreamcatchers with feathers hung from a windowsill. Books were everywhere, too. Some that he had published and others he had collected. And I couldn’t help but notice his old Martin guitar.
Photos of Okefenokee Joe posing with massive alligators and snakes were scattered here and there. Framed certificates, awards, plaques and newspaper clippings were all over the place. Two things that I took notice of were his certificate for winning an Academy Award for Swampwise as well as his induction to the Atlanta Country Music Hall of Fame.
Click on the photos to enlarge.
I asked him if I could take some photos and videos of him as we talked and he said that would be fine. I had already taken several photos of him on the front porch earlier that day.
After being seated, Okefenokee Joe almost instinctively picked up the Martin guitar and began to fiddle with it as we talked. He offered the guitar to me and I hesitated at first but took it from him and gently strummed a few chords. This is a really old guitar. Not only that, it was the same guitar I had seen him playing in several photos from his time in Nashville during the 60s. Dick Flood played that guitar throughout his career and the thought crossed my mind, who else had played this guitar?
Click on the photos to enlarge.
I handed the guitar back to Okefenokee Joe. He immediately started playing his well known song, Swampy the Dog, Skeeter the Cat and Me. You cannot help but smile when you listen to this song. It was an honor to have him play it live for us in the comfort of his home.
“Okefenokee Georgia. Population three. Swampy the dog, Skeeter the cat and Me!”
Okefenokee Joe performs Swampy the Dog, Skeeter the Cat and Me
After he finished playing he told us, “On my way south, when I was leaving Nashville, I stopped at the Okefenokee Swamp park and talked to the manager there and I told them I had left Nashville for good and he offered me a job. I said, ‘no, no I don’t know what I’m gonna do,’ but three or four months later I said, ‘what do you mean I can’t take that job!’” and he chuckled for a while and reflected before continuing, “I ended up working there at the swamp. That’s how I got there. That’s how it happened.”
“I carved a living out of life,” Okefenokee Joe said. “I’ve been Okefenokee Joe for over 40 years. I drove my car up and down the highways to different schools for 40 years. I’d do maybe 75 a year. I also did a lot of sportsman’s shows.”
He continued to speak and perform and had events planned well into 2023.
He talked for a while about the swamp itself. It was interesting for me because I have only visited the swamp one time for a brief visit. I have to visit again soon.
“When I lived in the swamp in Georgia most of the time I would cook over the open fire. I like it better! Inconvenient in some ways, or a lot of ways, but I like it. A minor inconvenience. I think it’s healthier too. That’s what I think. I call it the smell of freedom. You smell that wood fire?”
Okefenokee Joe lifted his head up and sniffed the air. And sure enough, his home did have a slight residual hint of smoke. It was comforting.
He continued with a laugh, “You gotta use the right kind of wood or else you’ll have a hell of a smoking fire!”
I asked him about his time in the Everglades. He went on to explain that he spent several years there as well. He once knew a Seminole Chief as a personal friend. Okefenokee Joe spent considerable time on reservations learning about Native American customs and culture. He became friends with many indigenous people in South Florida.
Okefenokee Joe shared wanted to share one story in particular: The Devil’s Garden
“Not many people know it today but way back in the early 1800s that area of Florida was known as the Devil’s Garden. One man was responsible for that land. One man, and he was known as the Devil of The Devil’s Garden. He wasn’t just a chief or a brave warrior but he was supreme spiritual leader of the Seminole. And his name was Abiaka and the white people called him Sam Jones. They named him after some famous Broadway show person or something. In Tampa he sold fish to the soldiers and settlers but was actually spying on them. Trying to check out what sort of weaponry they had and how they were trained. During his time he mapped out escape routes all through the Everglades. That’s how the Seminoles always escaped the army. If you look at the history of the Seminole Wars, almost every battle, the Seminoles won.” Okefenokee Joe sat back for a while and continued, “He only attended one treaty meeting. Sometime around 1855 or somewhere around there. Abiaka didn’t like something that was said and when he stood up and the entire platform that the generals were sitting on collapsed. And then he walked out and never met with the whites again.”
Okefenokee Joe explained that the Chief he knew personally had allowed him special access to historic records and materials. The Chief wanted Okefenokee Joe to create songs, poems and prose to honor the tribe in a dedication of a monument to Abiaka. The Chief commissioned the building of a modern day mound site.
The mound supposedly has a group of statues to memorialize Abiaka and the various Seminole clans. He claimed one statue is a bronze structure of Abiaka that stands nearly 18-feet tall and faces to the east. Other statues are dedicated to the clans of the Seminole people. These statues depict the forms of a bear, panther, eagle, rattlesnake, otter, toad, deer and wind.
Okefenokee Joe wasn’t sure of the current status of the mound site and I am not either. He told us that there was never a formal public ceremony to dedicate the mound site. Therefore, the songs and stories he wrote for the occasion were never used.
Okefenokee Joe said, “One song is called The Devil of Devil’s Garden. You want to hear it?”
We said we would love to hear it and settled into our seats to listen. At first he tuned to his computer as if to play a recording but he waved his hand saying he didn’t need to play it because he could recite it as a story for us from memory. Okefenokee Joe began to speak:
“This is the bloody tale of the Devil’s Garden and the fearsome man for which it has been named. If you travel deep in Southern Central Florida you’ll be standing on this once hostile terrain. And the ghosts of all those haunted souls who died here are cursing and calling out his name.
‘Sam Jones! Same Jones! You Devil you Sam Jones!’ Mother, don’t be looking for me at Christmas. I won’t be coming home. Not until we capture that rotten Sam Jones.
The white man never understood the Glades. And the Seminole warriors moved without a sound. Many soldiers met their final fate in ambush and their bones will never leave the battleground. There, heaped in grotesque piles and left to rot. The Indians called them blue coat mounds.
‘Sam Jones! Same Jones! You Devil you Same Jones! You’re a murderin’ heathen savage for which you must atone. And one day we shall hang you, Sam Jones.’
The man of four souls, as people called him. His powers as a shaman soon were known. He could cast a spell that killed the soldier horses. And like a wisp of wind he would fight and then be gone. And it was true that he was feared by his own people but he lead them well as history now has shown.
‘Sam Jones! Same Jones! You Devil you Same Jones!’ Campaign after campaign the war dragged on and on because of the elusive Sam Jones.
The Seminole removal took its toll. The suffering and the pain and hatred grew. When those 40 years of bloodshed finally ended there came that bless’ed peace, long overdue. More than 15,000 soldiers lost their lives here. Sam Jones was never capture nor subdued.
And now you know the tale of Devil’s Garden and the fearsome man for which it has been named. When you travel deep in Southern Central Florida remember this was once hostile terrain and the ghosts of souls who died here are cursing and calling out his name.
‘Sam Jones! Same Jones! You Devil you Same Jones! You have won your people’s freedom. To the world let it be known you remain unconquered, Sam Jones.’”
Okefenokee Joe told other accounts of Abiaka’s mystical ways. He told another brief story about the Seminole people being backed up to Lake Okeechobee by U.S. troops and suddenly the Indians disappeared. It is assumed they used some sort of secrete trail or pathway to escape. The Florida Seminoles are known as the “Unconquered People” to this day. It was intriguing to hear everything he was willing to share about the Everglades.
You can find the story above in the form of a song via Okefenokee Joe’s website here.
Okefenokee Joe talked about his time visiting schools and speaking to children about various animals and nature. He was dedicated to educating people about the nature of the swamps.
“About everybody I knew is gone except for me. Everybody I knew in the Army, everybody I knew everywhere… In Nashville. Except for Bill Anderson. He’s the only one left alive that I know that knows me. I’m alone,” he chucked.
“But I’m alright! Even my friend Oscar up there, he’s gone,” he laughed again and nodded toward the photo of him posing with a giant alligator. “I’ll be gone too sometime soon.”
Okefenokee Joe was keen on spending time with his adult children in the months to come after our visit. He said, “I might even drink a beer and get a little silly!”
His mind was sharp and his wit was on-point. He loved to make people laugh.
Okefenokee Joe told us about his days on The Jimmy Dean Show. He told us about performing for two straight years on The Grand Ole Opry.
Somehow Little Jimmie Dickens came up and Okefenokee Joe said, “I used to eat supper at his house a lot. He was a good friend.”
“Heck, I was on the road with almost every act out of Nashville at one time or another. I got to know all of them and they got to know me. We got along pretty good. Almost every one of them are gone now. I know Bill [Anderson] is still alive. I think he’s younger than me by I think a little bit. I was on the Opry as a guest the first night he appeared on it. And I told him myself, ‘We oughta be calling you whispering Bill.’ I said that back then. I’m not claiming ownership to that idea but I said that to him way back then. ‘Cause he kinda whispered when he sang and spoke.”
Okefenokee Joe pulled out a book called “My Walk Among the Stars” that he had published. He thumbed through the pages and showed me an excerpt that quoted Bill Anderson in the form of a letter that he had sent to Dick Flood.
Okefenokee Joe (Dick Flood) is known to have toured and played shows along with Golden Era Country Artists such as Johnny & June Carter Cash, Patsy Cline, Red Foley, George Jones, Ray Price, Faron Young, Minnie Pearl, Ferlin Husky, Bill Anderson, Roy Orbison and many others.
Click on the photos to enlarge.
While we sat with him in the small room, Okefenokee Joe played countless songs for us on his computer that he had recorded the 60s until the present. He told us about how he was currently selling songs for TV shows. Some of the songs he shared were too personal to recount here in this blog. Some for himself as well as others he had written for friends.
He discussed the common issue songwriters have to overcome when they’re stumped about what the next line of a song should be should be:
“I get mind bogged every now and then. Just not sure about the next line to a song. It takes time. I call them God lines. Whenever I’m stuck… See, I’m stuck and I can’t think and I walk out of the room and go somewhere else and ‘Wow! There’s the line!’ and all of the sudden there it is. God gave the line to me.”
“I could never play very well. I was never a great guitar player. I was always a songwriter and a storyteller and an entertainer. Not a great singer, just a singer. I’m lost in the 60s. Lost in the 60s again!” he said laughing.
I told him how strong the messages of his songs were. That the words are the most important part. I also told him what a great performer and singer that he was.
The brand of country music Dick Flood (Okefenokee Joe) was gifted at has essentially vanished from modern radio but will never be forgotten. It holds a valuable place in history. Below are several of my favorite songs by Dick Flood / Okefenokee Joe.
Eventually the conversation shifted from Nashville back into his storytelling. He mentioned The Battle of Horseshoe Bend. The battle between Native Americans and the Creek Indian tribe effectively ended the Creek War in 1814. Andrew Jackson defeated the Red Sticks in what is now central Alabama.
Okefenokee Joe had another old Indian friend who had passed away years ago. He recounted a story that his friend told him about an ancient tree that supposedly still stands at the battlefield to this day.
The friend explained to Okefenokee Joe that his grandfather had taken him to the battleground and showed him the old tree:
“He said, ‘You see that big oak tree there? He says, that’s where General Jackson got up on those limbs right there and talked to his troops to give them orders for the beginning of the battle.’ So, I wrote this song about [what happened] all around that tree.”
Okefenokee Joe then recited “The Battle of Horseshoe Bend” for us”
“It is said Andrew Jackson once climbed a tall oak tree. And from its sturdy branches, as far as the eye could see, there was a massive blue coat army, determined to defend its honor and its country in the Battle of Horseshoe Bend.
From that tree he shouted orders and soon the battle would begin. I remember each word spoken. I sat that close to him. Cannons roared destruction and ranks formed to attack. And as I watched I wondered, how many would come back?
And the muddy Tallapoosa would soon be flowing red with the blood of all the wounded, the dying and the dead.
In the early 1800s the Southland was the home of the great Creek Indian Nation and its boundaries were well known. Yet thousands of white settlers in haste to fill their needs would ignore the terms of treaties… And the boundaries paid no heed.
Some Creeks would befriend them. Even lend a helping hand. Others were determined to drive them from the land. These men were known as Red Sticks. The color meaning war. And each of them vowed to return to their ancient ways once more.
They built a wooden barricade across the neck of horseshoe bend, believing in the prophecy that they would be safe within. But Red Eagle warned Chief Menawa, and this I heard him say, ‘wooden walls cannot withstand the weapons of today.’
And the muddy Tallapoosa would soon be flowing red with the blood of all the wounded, the dying and the dead.
The Red Sticks were outnumbered by the soldiers three to one. Since they had few modern weapons they also were outgunned. Jackson’s friendly Cherokees and White Sticks then appeared. They had swum the icy river to assault them from the rear.
A bayonet charge was ordered! Now the fight was hand-to-hand. The blue coats scaled the barricade and chaos took command. I heard screams of pain and war cries and shouts of cursing men as brutality showed no mercy in the Battle of Horseshoe Bend.
And the muddy Tallapoosa now was flowing red with the blood of all the wounded, the dying and the dead.
The outcome was decisive. Andrew Jackson’s men had won. Red Sticks by the hundreds lay rotting in the sun. The Tallapoosa River claimed 400 hundred more. This carnage was the worst defeat of all the Indian Wars.
It was March the 27th. 1814 was the year. The Great Creek Indian Nation had lost what it held dear. All organized resistance from that day forth would end. Their Spirit had been broken in the Battle of Horseshoe Bend.
The victory helped turn Jackson to the highest office in the land. And where that slaughter took place a monument now stands to remind us our history and to honor those brave men who fought and died and gave their all in the Battle of Horseshoe Bend.
And me? I’m still standing in the spot I stood that day. The horror of that dreadful scene will never fade away. And it’s true that Andrew Jackson climbed that tall oak tree. You ask me how I know this? Well, you see, that tree was me. That tree was me.”
All I could say was, wow. It was a remarkable story and interpretation of the very real historic event at Horseshoe Bend.
“Imagine if trees could talk, man. Oh boy… Some trees are 500 years old. The stories they could tell,” he chuckled. “Well, there’s one that could talk. That tree is still there.”
All of Okefenokee Joe’s stories are worth telling. He knew life would likely draw to a close in the near future. He continually returned to this point through out the duration of our visit.
“I don’t know anyone but me now. I like it that way and I don’t like it that way. Nothing I can do about it so I might as well not argue with it,” he said smiling.
I reminded him that he had now met us and has us as new friends. He nodded his agreement.
“I’m going to let my hair grow until I die, by the way. I got a wild hair in my mind and I decided to let me hair grow until I die. Just for the plain hell of it.”
The three of us sat for a while longer chatting about various things. We eventually had to announce that we needed leave, of course. I was torn between wanting to stay longer and getting on the road. I told him we planned to go into Augusta, Georgia for dinner and a movie that night.
He responded with a smile, “I wish I could stay up and watch the movie! It has been good to see you both.”
I expressed to Okefenokee Joe how much we appreciated him making time to visit with us. It was interesting and very fulfilling and inspiring. Hearing him tell stories and talk about life was fantastic experience.
On the way out of his house I turned around once more to shake his hand with both of my hands. I told him, “This has meant a lot to me,” and he said “Same for me.”
Okefenokee Joe - August 11, 2021
I sent him the photos and video clips I took. I wasn’t sure if he was able to properly access them but a few months after our visit my phone buzzed and it was Okefenokee Joe calling. I answered and he told me he finally managed to access the USB drive I mailed to him. He told me how thankful he was for the photos and video clips and expressed again how much the visit meant to him. It was great to hear from him.
I had spoken with Okefenokee Joe by phone as recently as September of 2022. We talked about setting up another visit. Unfortunately that was not to be.
I wasn’t sure if the rumors of his passing were true or not so I picked up my phone and called his number…
The phone rang once or twice before someone answered. I could hear others in the background talking. I asked if Okefenokee Joe was around. The man on the other end of the line was slow to speak and not sure what to say. He paused and said, “No… He’s not.” The man paused again and asked who I was. I explained that I considered Okefenokee Joe a friend and told him about our visit in 2021. The man brightened up and told me that he was one of his sons. We talked for a while and he shared with me that Okefenokee Joe had “gone home.”
I’ll never see Okefenokee Joe again. What a pleasure it was to have met him. I’ll never forget that day.
“By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water...”
The beginnings and endings of memorable seasons in my life have brought a deeper respect for intentional contemplation. As I drove through morning rush hour traffic in Nashville, Tennessee, it was tempting to turn around, go back to the apartment, and crawl into my bed and fall asleep again. I wrestled with the decision to go all the way through Kentucky. When I saw the Ohio River in Louisville I knew I had made the right decision. Without a doubt, I needed to go somewhere to be alone, and the week ahead on the top side of America would teach me lessons and reveal truths. I remember standing at the edge of Lake Huron for a long time early one morning, lost in deep thought, and I was glad for the moment. Hot tears rolled down my face and I sat alone. This experience and taking these images stirred up emotions that I’d either lost or were never there to begin with. Considering relationship commitments, career goals, and personal dreams certainly deserves deliberation.
I chose Mike Posner’s record “A Real Good Kid” as the soundtrack for my drive times. It’s a good record that drives home the sentiment of purpose, confusion, loss, pride, struggle, and moving forward.
The Upper Peninsula of Michigan had never been on my radar. I hadn’t studied the U.P. very well or ever known anyone from there. I didn’t know jack about the area or the lakes I would see. I still don’t know very much but I tried to absorb as much as I could. I left Nashville, TN early in the morning on August 20. I reached Louisville, KY where I crossed the mighty Ohio River… My favorite river. I drove into Indianapolis, IN, switching to I-69 which took me through Fort Wayne, IN and then to Lansing, MI. After I exited the Lansing area I knew the territory before me was completely new. I drove along US-127 as evening approached. I joined I-75 near the ghost town of Pere Cheney, MI.
Vintage motels were my nightly residence on this road trip. The first of these was in Mackinaw City, MI. I got comfortable in the room alone and sat down to write a letter to my girlfriend, Katie. I never turned on the television. I eventually turned off the light, got in bed, pulled up the covers and tried to sleep. A street light in the distance illuminated my room only slightly, just enough for my eyes to fixate on the ceiling fan above. It was swirling ‘round and ‘round in the very dimly lit room. I drifted off to sleep.
When I awoke in the morning I felt well rested yet somehow still very tired. My body ached. The air was cool in the room and it felt right to be getting busy with the day so early. I packed my journal and cameras away and closed the door behind me. The motel was located directly on Lake Huron and I walked down to the water’s edge. It was an overcast morning. A swing set, a few chairs and a picnic table were all that stood with me on the sandy beach. No one else was around. The lake was calm and almost placid. The temperature must have been in the low 60s. It was very quiet. I knelt down at the water’s edge, reached out and touched the cool, wet surface of the massive lake before me. I looked out across the expanse, unable to see the other side. I stayed there for a long time, lost in contemplation. Hot tears rolled down my face and I sat alone. It was simple, it was beautiful.
Click on the photos to enlarge.
I didn’t eat breakfast that morning. Instead, I drove into the center of Mackinaw City and caught the Star Line Ferry to Mackinac Island. I really had no idea what to expect of Mackinac Island as I boarded the ferry. I found my place on the upper deck and in the front. We pushed off and started out across the waters of Lake Huron near the Straits of Mackinac. The mainland was behind me and Mackinac Island before me. An old lighthouse was visible as well. One of the ferrymen came and sat with me out of no where. He asked about my camera, where I was from, why I was alone… We talked for 10 minutes or so. Somehow the conversation lead to spiritual things without my directing. It was good to talk with some one. I thanked him for the conversation when the boat landed at the dock.
After disembarking I found myself in a maze of people, bicycles and horses in a quaint historic setting. Suddenly my senses were heightened and my eyes started racing around the scenery. I was wide awake now, adjusting from the quiet whirring of the ferry engine and the lapping of water to the static bustle of a crowded street. It was nice though. I just hadn’t expected it. Mackinac Island, as it turns out, is one of the premier destinations in the Great Lakes. First settled by Europeans in the 1600s, it was previously home to the Odawa people. It quickly became a fur trading headquarters as well as Jesuit missionary causes. It was also the site of two battles during the War of 1812. Horses, bicycles and walking are the only means of transportation since cars are not allowed on the island. As a result, Mackinac Island has a very specific vibe and presence. It feels like you’ve stepped back in time in some ways. The island became a resort center in the late 1800s. Opulent resort lodges as well as simple frontier homes are scattered throughout the town. The architecture is diverse and contrasted from the Grand Hotel to the McGulpin House. There were cliffs along the fresh water beaches. Flowers and trees grew in abundance.
I almost forgot it was summer time in the cool air of Northern Michigan. Briefly, my heart stopped beating so hard and heavy. For a few moments I didn’t care that I have no idea where my life is going these days. I can’t run away from myself, especially when I go far away and go alone. Then, in those moments, I am truly all alone. And then, everything flows back into my mind, slowly and steadily, like the water flows in and out of the locks at Sault-Sainte-Marie. How can you ever hold back so much water to begin with? I knew I could never hold back my emotions or direct the course of my life. Everything is as it should be. I must experience it all.
I wish I could have stayed longer on Mackinac Island, but I boarded the ferry to return to the mainland. I had a fancy lunch at KFC in downtown Mackinaw City. After a phone call, I started out across the Mackinac Bridge, a massive suspension bridge and causeway crossing the Straits of Mackinac which connect Lake Michigan-Huron.
The Upper Peninsula is remote and densely forested. In fact, I nearly ran out of fuel. I pulled into a gas station in Sault-Sainte-Marie, Michigan with 1 mile left in my tank according to my car’s computer.
Sault-Sainte-Marie is pronounced “Soo” or “Sue” like my mother’s name. I’d gone most of my life having mispronounced the name until this trip. It’s at the very tip of Michigan at the northern terminus of I-75. Canada is just across the St. Marys River. The same interstate also passes through my hometown of Tifton, GA. It was a little odd being on the same highway but so far from home. I-75 in the state of GA is very crowded, especially in Atlanta. I hardly saw a soul while driving up seventy-five in the U.P.
After having a look at the town from the top of the Tower of History I ventured to The Soo Locks to watch the big boats roll in and out. I sat there most of the late afternoon and early evening watching ships enter the locks and exit the locks. Lake Superior is higher in elevation than Lake Huron by about 26 feet. Vessels must enter the system of locks and let the water level either rise or fall according to which direction they were going. A series of shallow, rocky rapids prohibits boats from passing between the lakes. Before the locks were built some boats were carried overland to go between the two lakes.
I watched the CSL St-Laurent and the MV Saginaw pass through the Soo Locks. It was impressive and interesting to watch such an important engineering and navigational process work.
The MC Saginaw was closest to the observation deck when it entered the locks. You could almost reach out and touch the 640 foot long ship. Hard looking bearded, burly men covered in black soot moved about the deck quickly, attending to the moorings and waiting for the water level to drop. The ship was coming from Lake Superior and entering Lake Huron. Several onlookers yelled out questions to the men: “What kind of fuel does the ship use?” one man asked. Another asked, “How many crew members are there? Where are you from?” The men answered that the Saginaw runs off of a bio-diesel fuel mixture. It has a crew of 21 men, most of whom are Canadian. A deep and sombre sounding fog horn blew right before the Saginaw made its way through the open side of the lock and into Lake Huron. It was a sight to see.
I drove a little over an hour westward from Sault-Sainte-Marie to the tiny town of Newberry, Michigan. The road was long and mostly straight. I saw very few cars or houses along the way. I did run across a few interesting abandoned buildings, though. The sun went down and I was still driving. Finally, I pulled into the parking lot of another vintage motel to spend the night alone again. After checking in, I sat down at the desk in my room and wrote another letter before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up early the following morning and got on the road towards Munising, Michigan. Munising is beautifully situated old logging town on a quiet bay of Lake Superior.
It was here that I tried my first “pasty” for lunch. I had the foresight that I would probably mispronounce the name so I asked exactly what they were. It’s pronounced pass-tee. The tiny bakery-like shop owner explained to me that a pasty originally derived from a Cornish dish. She went on to explain that they were important food for miners in the iron ore mines of the U.P. Miners could hold the crust of the pasty without ingesting toxic residue from the minerals they mined. A pasty is shaped similarly to a samosa but tastes more like a pot pie. I ordered a traditional version of the dish that consisted of beef and vegetables surrounded by a delicious pie crust.
After lunch, I boarded a boat to have a closer look at The Pictured Rocks. Canada was 165 miles due north of Munising. The captain warned us that the lake was choppy that day with waves between 3-6 feet. He said, “If you’re not okay with being on a carnival ride for 3 hours then now is your chance to get off.” Several people gathered their belongings and went back to the dock. I was a little apprehensive myself but I was determined to see the Pictured Rocks. As it turned out, the lake had calmed down some by the time our boat reached open water. I had never seen a body of fresh water with such large waves, though. The Pictured Rocks National Shoreline was unique and beautiful. I saw interesting landforms such as rock arches, spires, and white cliffs. The cliffs were impressive and showed colorful remnants of mineral deposits. It looked like someone had poured paint on the rocky faces. Even the clouds in the sky above looked more like those in a painting than real life. The sun was beating down but it was cool outside. The boat swayed back and forth with the high waves. My eyes were everywhere, capturing my surroundings via my camera.
“By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water...”
I remember my dad reading that to me when I was a child. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote “The Song of Hiawatha” and chose The Pictured Rocks of Lake Superior as the setting for the story. I made the long drive to the Upper Peninsula alone to explore and reflect. I got a little sun burnt that afternoon and that’s my own fault. I’m glad I got to see this incredible area of the U.P. I can’t really describe with words how the experience made me feel so I will let the photographs speak for themselves.
Eventually I had to leave Munising. I drove slowly and took in the evening sunset along the water. I stopped at a pretty sandy beach at the mouth of the Au Train River. I only stayed for a little while but the moment stands out in my mind. I was alone on this freshwater beach that felt like the ocean.
I visited Marquette, Michigan briefly and walked around downtown. Marquette is the largest town in the U.P. with around 21,000 people. Their harbor has a giant rusted out iron ore dock that stands out from the surrounding horizon.
I drove from Marquette across the U.P. southward and down the shore of Lake Michigan before crossing in to the state of Wisconsin. “Hello Wisconsin!” 🔊
That night of my trip, I stayed in Green Bay, WI. I wrote another letter before bed in another lonely motel room. I woke up the next day and decided I should take advantage of the fact that my motel was half a mile from Lambeau Field, home of the Green Bay Packers. I toured the historic NFL stadium. Definitely something I’d never considered doing, but was well worth the time.
I eventually continued my trek southward through the cities of Appleton, Oshkosh, and Fond du Lac, Wisconsin. I walked around downtown Fond du Lac because Jason Isbell mentions it in his song entitled “Live Oak”. I played the song as a I drove my car around the streets. I visited the shoreline of Lake Winnebago as well before leaving the town. I passed through Milwaukee and Chicago and on to Indianapolis and Louisville again. I got back to Nashville, TN late at night, or morning. I slept long and hard. The next day I went to my niece's birthday. Gaby turned 1 year old on August 25, 2019. She’s so precious.
I’m sitting in my studio on this November day as I finish this blog. I have gone on yet another trip (to West Virginia) since taking this one. I’m learning to take deeper breaths, to simply feel stuff again, and to be okay with my past. I have had to accept the many facets of my experiences, both negative and positive, in order to posture myself to go into the future as a better man. When I die, I want to die empty. No shoulda-coulda-wouldas, no unspent effort, no unused talent, and no love held back. I want to be poured out.
-Daniel C. Shippey
Wonderful night shoot with Katie Dickens in South Georgia to ring in the Halloween spooky vibe! Something amazing about walking around farmland in the cool Autumn air under the light of a full moon. It was crisp, bright, and full of fun.
All of these photos were taken using my Canon 5D Mark IV with a 24-70mm 2.8 lens. I mounted the camera on a tripod to keep it steady. Some are simple long exposures while others are double and multiple exposures. All we had to work with in terms of lighting was moonlight my car’s headlights.
October 24 was a full moon which not only helped add to the spookiness but offered some unusually strong night time light for my camera to play with.
One the photos found placement as the cover artwork for a new single release by my friends in Stages & Stereos. The new song “Hesitate To Kill” was released on Halloween and can be listened to via iTunes and Spotify.
See the cover art along with several other selections from the shoot below!
Warped Tour started in 1995 and is traveling around the country for the last time during the summer of 2018. The tour has been a catalyst for so many band's careers as well as an outlet for people who love punk, pop punk, post-hardcore, and other genres of music. Warped Tour gave spotlight to bands like Blink-182, My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, Paramore, Katy Perry, and Mayday Parade. The tour grew to attract over 750,000 attendees nationwide and is the longest running annual national music festival. It has had a very strong run.
I was able to spend the day with my old friends in Mayday Parade at the Nashville, Tennessee date. When I first arrived I noticed there were two parking lots for buses. I went to the one that was closest to me. After walking around a bit I realized this was a lot for production vehicles instead of the bus parking for the bands. I saw a man sitting outside of a bus under a tent using his laptop. So, I asked for directions to the other buses and he told me. Remember this man...
I had not seen some of the Mayday guys in a few years. I tend to see Brooks and Derek more since they're still living in Tallahassee. Derek had recently played an acoustic set at my studio in Georgia as well. So, it was great catching up with everyone. As usual, the band put on a stellar performance to a large and energetic crowd. Even though I have never been a part of the entire national Warped Tour it did feel a bit strange throughout the day knowing that this would be the last time I will ever go to Warped Tour. It has been a summer tradition for many years for me.
After the Mayday's set I ended up walking around with their manager Josh Terry. We ended up back at the production parking lot. Josh approached the same gentleman I had asked directions from earlier. They shook hands and began talking. I noticed the man's walkie talkie had the name "Kevin Lyman" written in black on yellow tape. Kevin Lyman is the man who invented and started Warped Tour. I had never been able to meet him until that day. So, it was cool to meet the founder of Warped Tour on the very last year of it.
I never made an attempt at some sort of end-of-the-year summary for 2017 as many of my counterparts did. Here it is, over half way through 2018 and this is my first effort at getting back into blog posts. I haven't created a new post since September of last year. Sure, there were many experiences that yielded opportunities to write. Traveling, photography, business, creativity, ideas, heartbreak, Spirituality, and renewal are some of the things that come to the forefront of my mind. I'll try to be brief as I catch those interested up-to-speed with what I have been up to the past few months.
SUMMARY OF 2017
2017 took me to 37 different states.
I launched an entirely different photography and video brand for weddings named Passenger Atlas.
I photographed over 130 shoots (not counting days while on tour).
I toured the nation photographing Less Than Jake, Kash'd Out, Pepper, Red City Radio, Brightside, We The Kings, Cute Is What We Aim For, Stages and Stereos, Rookie of the Year, and Ashland.
I photographed Grammy award winning artist Yonrico Scott, formerly of The Derek Trucks Band.
I was published in THOM Magazine, Rovers Magazine, Good Grit Magazine, Clutch Magazine, and Blues Magazine.
I photographed an ostrich skin leather vest by The Row (Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen) that was valued at $35,000 list price.
I loved deeply and genuinely. I lost love profoundly. The world that I thought was permanent fell apart completely and the trajectory of my life took a nosedive. I will not be sharing any specific details in the blog post. I decided to take a serious look at myself in the aftermath of everything. Feelings of heartache, worry, betrayal, anger, and uncertainty all but consumed me. I made some terrible mistakes, too. My drive for creativity was eroding. My shrewdness for business was diminishing. My faith and hope in love was damaged. I needed help. I had never been to formal counseling in my life until November of 2017. It ended up helping me a lot. My family and true friends have been an invaluable source of encouragement and support. They are a blessing. There is always Peace to be found in the midst of chaos. Also, I can still affirm that God is real and working in my life.
I was grateful to get away from Georgia when my family announced we would be spending Christmas in Nashville, Tennessee. My mother's family is originally from Nashville. As I grew up my family would travel to Nashville for the Holidays or during the summer for vacation. It has always been a second home for me. While I was in town I did some thinking and took several afternoon drives around town. I enjoyed the time with my family, too.
2018 TO PRESENT
2018 started out pretty randomly for me. I was in the corner of an Irish pub known as JP Fitzgerald's. There I stood in a crowded room on the outskirts of Buffalo, New York watching an Irish folk band complete with kilts and bagpipes when the clock struck midnight... Except it wasn’t midnight? The entire room erupted with joy and celebration five hours before midnight when Dublin, Ireland ushered in the New Year. Then again, at midnight local time, Buffalo, NY rang in 2018 with its Western New York style— Wings, Beef on Weck, and Beer. The Buffalo Bills defeated the Miami Dolphins to make their way to an NFL playoff appearance for the first time since 1999. It snowed a lot while I was in Buffalo as it usually does. And it was cold, bitterly cold. While in New York I had some good talks with my friends Taylor and Trey over wings and locally brewed beer. Both of them live in Nashville, TN and the offer was extended to me that I could move in with them in the Spring. It was decided… I would move to Nashville in April.
On February 24, 2018 I hosted what I considered to be the "last show" at my photography studio in Tifton, Georgia. I have hosted nights of original acoustic music and handmade arts and crafts for a decade at my studio in downtown Tifton. I wanted the last show to be one to remember. Erica Bitting, Brightside, Kade Williamson, Stephen Carey, Derrick Dove, Stages and Stereos, and Derek Sanders of Mayday Parade all played music that night. Luke Sadler, Katie Dickens, Spencer Young, and myself displayed visual art. I had spent a week taping almost every single print I had at my studio to the wall to create a massive display of my photography work.
When the night started I shared a story with the crowd over the microphone. A few nights prior I had a dream. I was standing in the middle of the desert next to an old, abandoned truck. A set of railroad tracks was nearby. Suddenly an old passenger train rushed by on the tracks with a loud noise. Once it quieted down after the train's passing the wind started to blow gently. I turned to survey the area surrounding me. Someone was with me. A photographer had been standing behind me. I acknowledged them with a nod. The photographer held up their camera and asked if they could take my picture. I nodded again. They raised the camera up slowly and I began to smile on impulse. The camera met the photographer's eye. I felt something falling out of my mouth. My teeth were falling out! The photographer started counting "One - Two - Three". Just before the camera snapped I had stretched my mouth very wide to offer the best and biggest smile possible. The camera clicked and the very last tooth fell out of my mouth and landed in the sand. I told the crowd how weird I felt in that moment. I felt insecure and uncomfortable. I then said to them, "We all have moments in our life of fear and insecurity. And it's okay to feel uncomfortable. We have to keep on smiling even if our teeth are falling out. No matter what happens, just know that you can always choose joy."
Over 175 people came to the show at my tiny little photography studio. The structure was built in 1907 and I'm pretty sure that's the most people to have ever been inside the building at one time. People came out of the woodwork to see Derek Sanders play in such an intimate setting. Two reporters covered the event. One story ended up on the front page of my hometown newspaper. I was an emotional and nervous wreck that night. It was bittersweet but I could not have been more pleased, honored, and blessed.
Since April I have been splitting my months into thirds roughly. 1/3 of the time I am in Nashville, Tennessee. Another 1/3 I am in Tifton, Georgia. The remaining 1/3 I am traveling to-and-fro for photography and personal enjoyment. I am still not exactly sure what I am doing or where I will end up long term. I do know that I am experiencing a sense of renewal and new direction in life. I have also landed some cool work with bands, magazines, and portraits. Rolling Stone even picked up one of my photos.
I also decided to try and keep the doors of my photography studio open. I had the idea to start offering the building as a rental space for creatives. My hope is to attract local photographers, artists, other creatives, and as event space. The future is wide open!
To everyone who has ever cared about my photography or about me as a person I just want to say… Thank you. And thank you for reading.
-Daniel C. Shippey
The first set of photos were taken by me using my FujiFilm X-T1 and 35mm 1.4 lens exclusively.
Pictured below:
• Sonoran Desert near Calexico, California
• Less Than Jake (Santa Ana, California)
• Clemson University Botanical Garden
• Pepper (Scottsdale, Arizona)
• Street scene in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
• Group photo of Ashland, Stages and Stereos, and Rookie of the Year (New York City)
• Wedding venue in Konnarock, Virginia with Mount Rogers in the background
• Niagara Falls, New York with snow and ice
Show flyer for the Acoustic + Art Show at my photography studio in Tifton, GA.
February 24, 2018
Photos below were taken at the acoustic show by Matthew Zagorski.
Photos below were taken at the acoustic show by Scott Strickland.
Colorado is beautiful. Period. Granted, most people don't account for about half of the state being high plains. A vast undulating landscape stretches out across the horizon like a sheet on a giant's bed in Eastern Colorado. Most people think of the Rocky Mountains or Denver when Colorado comes to mind. I have visited Colorado at least 10 times in my life but never had much of an opportunity to explore freely. I've been here mostly on tours with bands, driving tour vehicles, passing through on cross-country road trips with friends, or simply touching down at the Denver airport for a few hours between flights. I was glad for the experience of this adventure.
I should really be writing this blog post for my wedding photo/video brand but I wanted this to be more about the experience than the work. Here's the groundwork that lead to our trip:
Passenger Atlas, our wedding brand, booked a wedding in South Georgia early in 2017 for November. Over the summer the client called me with some news, "We're cancelling our wedding..." My heart sunk a little bit but immediately perked back up when they said "...and now we're eloping in Colorado!" So, after readjusting everything me, Nella, and Robbie flew out to Colorado for the wedding in Estes Park. The wedding turned out great and I hope to post the gallery soon on Passenger Atlas. Enough about the work! We booked EXTRA days in Colorado just to hang out and see stuff!
After arriving in Denver we started west in our rental car. Home base was the town of Dillon. Smack dab in the middle of the Rocky Mountains, Dillon is home to the Dillon Reservoir. The 3,200 acre lake is a water supply reservoir for the city of Denver. Nearby to Dillon are the resort towns of Frisco, Breckenridge, and Vail. Our AirBnB was situated on a steep slope that offered a great view of the mountains in the distance. It was a gorgeous place to be.
We shot the wedding on Saturday in Estes Park. Sunday we explored Vail, Breckenridge, Frisco, and the Dillon Reservoir. Walking around the Vail Farmers' Market was interesting. The vendors were artisan and unique. We had some delicious Spanish Paella from a street vendor. Local cheese, wines, crafts, woodworks, and of course produce were on display and for purchase. Ski slopes were visible from virtually everywhere in Vail, Frisco, and Breckenridge. I have always wanted to ski in Colorado.
The highlight of our trip was Rocky Mountain National Park. We had a great breakfast Monday morning at the Log Cabin Cafe in Frisco before starting our drive. I ate my entire plate of Eggs Benedict and was glad for it later on in the day. It's a good idea to bring along some snacks and water bottles when visiting a national park. I knew this park was going to have some big mountains and amazing landscapes but I never really know what to expect until I get there. And once you're there it's hard to take it all in. Being there is important, I think, when visiting special places.
We approached the park from the west on US-34 coming out of Grand Lake. It was dreary day and I had done my best to accept the fact that many of the views would be obscured by clouds. I also realized that the rain and clouds would make for an interesting experience. It was cold and damp out on the mountains and the mist lingered on my clothes. Clouds were passing right in front of me as I walked among tall trees and even taller mountains. Everything was dark, green, and moody. I loved it.
Trail Ridge Road ventures through the park from Grand Lake in the west to Estes Park in the east. The road runs for about 50 miles through some of the most unique terrain in America. Trail Ridge Road has the distinction of being the highest continually paved road in North America topping out at over 12,100 feet above sea level. Climbing the winding road provided genuine geological display everywhere we looked. We crossed the Continental Divide at Milner Pass, saw elk grazing in meadows, and rain drops falling on the surface of alpine lakes. A good stretch of the road is above the timberline. The trees grew shorter and shorter until they finally gave way to rocky tundra. Snow is on the ground year round at this elevation in places. Even though it was August, the temperature outside was in the 30s and it made me wish I had dressed warmer.
Bear Lake is a clear alpine lake. The fog on the lake's surface, the dramatic peaks rising in the background, and tall evergreens all around created a surreal atmosphere. It was quiet except for our footsteps and faint raindrops landing. Evidence of time and changing landforms are everywhere. Glacial activity carved out Bear Lake and others in the area. Glaciers left behind moraines throughout the park over great periods of time. A few very small glaciers still remain in the park to this day. Bear Lake Coordinates: 40.31324°N 105.648222°W
I'm already wanting to plan another trip to RMNP. I recently bought a nice tent by MSR and haven't been able to use it yet. Camping in the Rockies in late summer would be incredible. Maybe next time!
-Daniel
West Virginia is one of my favorite states. To me it is a land of wild and wonderful yet obscure places. I grew up going snow skiing in WV at resorts like Snowshoe and Winterplace. In August of 2015 Nella and I stayed at an Airbnb in Beckley, WV in order to do three photo shoots. We enjoyed it so much we decided to go back and see more of the state and surrounding areas! On this trip we stayed in Parkersburg and Huntington and took day trips to Marietta, Ohio; Ashland, KY; Buckhannon, WV; Point Pleasant, WV; and visited Valley Falls State Park as well as Audra State Park.
MAY 10-11: The very first thing we did after leaving home was take in an awesome acoustic set by Joe Purdy in Atlanta. The next day was spent driving through GA, SC, NC, VA, and WV to Parkersburg. We both slept hard that night after the long drive.
MAY 12: On our first full day in West Virginia we actually decided to go to another state to see the sites in Marietta, Ohio. It was an overcast, cool day with occasional brief and sprinkling rainfall. In spite of the dreary day the air wasn't particularly muggy or think like it is in Georgia this time of year. In fact, the high temperature for the day was in the 60s. I've always been fascinated with the Ohio River Valley so I was excited to explore a new town. Marietta was the first permanent settlement in the Northwest Territory and was founded in 1788 by officers of the Revolutionary War who were given land grants for their military service. We drove around the beautiful little downtown and eventually stumbled upon a quaint cemetery at the top of a hill that formed a square surrounded by historic homes. At the center of this cemetery is an ancient Native American burial mound known as Conus and was estimated by archaeologists to have been built between 100 B.C. and 500 A.D. We were not expecting to find this so we decided to explore and take the stairs to the top of the mound. The view was largely shrouded by the tall, old trees in the cemetery but it was none-the-less a great view of the surrounding land. We also located a plot of Revolutionary War veterans. Before leaving Marietta, Nella and I stopped by Jeremiah's Coffee House and it was pretty awesome.
MAY 13: We decided to take a jaunt over to the central part of West Virginia to do some hiking at two state parks. Again, it was a cool and overcast day. I decided to take my Yashica Mat-124 G twin-lens camera along with me on the trails. I don't develop my film very often and have about 5 rolls sitting around my studio — So, I often take a through-the-lens photo to have something more immediate than the physical print. Being out in the hills, walking along rivers and waterfalls with Nella was amazing. We saw some pretty interested sites as we moved on from the parks as well. We came across something known as the "Pringle Tree" near Buckhannon, WV. Two brothers, John and Samuel Pringle, once lived in a hollowed out sycamore tree for the better part of three years starting in 1764. They eventually founded the first permanent settlement west of the Allegheny Mountains. Nella and I got to see the third generation sycamore that occupies the same spot and it too is a hollow tree. We continued on to Buckhannon, WV and discovered that the West Virginia Strawberry Festival was going on! Honestly, it wasn't any spectacular but it was nice and we could tell it meant a lot to the little town. We had the most delicious chocolate covered strawberries and also purchased some strawberry syrup for my mother.
MAY 14: After breakfast at Tim Horton's we left Parkersburg, WV and crossed over the Ohio River. Hugging the river we traveled down Ohio State Route 7 through Pomeroy and Gallipolis before crossing into Huntington, WV. Nella discovered something interesting on the Internet — Camden Park. Founded in 1903, Camden Park is one of the oldest amusement parks still in operation. Walking around this obscure yet popular local fun park was a genuine treat for Americana-Kitsch enthusiasts like myself. As soon as I walked in I couldn't stop smiling. I wasn't sure if it was because I had found the epicenter of working class America, if it was because I has been essentially taken back in time, or both. We took a ride on a 64 year old roller coaster complete with chipped paint and semi-rotten wood. We also got our bones rattled on a ride called the "The Whip". Camden Park has a legit carousel and twister ride called the paratrooper as well. We got raspberry slushes and walked around taking it all in. Being at Camden Park feels like you're watching a 90s movie set in the 1960s.
MAY 15: Our hotel was in Ashland, Kentucky but only because we found a mega cheap hotel there. I think it was $47 per night with tax included. Ashland was a starting point for our next set of adventures. We drove up through Ohio and stopped by the tiny town of Rio Grande, the home of Bob Evan's. Imagine a restaurant like IHOP, Denny's, Cracker Barrel, and Shoney's crammed all into one and you'd have Bob Evan's. At the farms in Rio Grande we briefly tour THE Bob Evan's homestead and museum dedicated to his entrepreneurial spirit.
After that we continued on to Point Pleasant, West Virginia. This town is home to one of America's greatest modern folkloric tales and pop culture elements. Referenced on TV shows, fireside ghost stories, and even a movie starring Richard Gere called The Mothman Prophecies. You should read up on the real legend on your own time but a brief description is in order: Point Pleasant is a small town on the Ohio River that was the location of the Mothman sitings and influence. Many of the town's people claimed to see a large creature resembling a human except it had moth-like wings and red eyes. It terrified the community from 1966 to 1967. During this time hundreds had various experiences ranging from sitings of the creature, UFOs, strange military personnel, premonitions of doom, individuals experiencing unusual emotional stress, and other strange phenomenon. The culmination of events occurred on December 15, 1967 when the Silver Bridge collapsed killing 46 people. Some people in the area claim to have had precognitions of the bridge's collapse. All-in-all it's a very weird account! We thoroughly enjoyed touring the roadside attraction known as the Mothman Museum as well as the Mothman statue in downtown. We even went to the old "TNT" area north of town to explore the military weapons storage igloos dating from WWII. Supposedly Mothman was sited in the vicinity many times.
Out of Point Pleasant we headed south along West Virginia Route 2 hugging the banks of the Ohio River. Outside of Huntington we stopped at another kitschy road-side attraction called Hillbilly Hot Dogs. I absolutely love hot dogs. I tried the Harrison Dog which comes with "hot dog sauce", nacho cheese, sautéed onions, sour cream, and bacon bits. It was insane but good. The attraction to the place is all of the stuff they've collected over the years. Old school buses, cars, strange little artifacts of yesteryear which lost their purpose long ago. They even have a Hillbilly wedding chapel. It was quite the experience.
MAY 16: Once we got to Beckley, WV I had two shoots. One was a video shoot for a friend named Ryan Smith whom I met in 2014 when I photographed his band. This go 'round he wanted a video of him playing acoustic songs to present to venues for booking purposes. His style is traditional mountain finger-picking. His goal is to play more shows at local festivals, music venues, and even churches. The other shoot I did was for Emmalea Deal, whom I had also worked with in the past. After the shoots, Nella and I had dinner that night at Poncho & Lefty's, a Baja style taco restaurant in West Virginia.
MAY 17: It was time make the long drove home. Me and Nella ended up stopped in Asheville, NC for dinner as well as exploring some other things we spotted along our drive home. It was wonderful trip!
-Daniel
Cairo, Illinois is located at the confluence of the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers. Locals in Southern Illinois refer to the region as "Little Egypt". With a turbulent history, Cairo is one of the most interesting small towns in America that I have visited.
The city's population peaked in the 1910s. Though the city's infrastructure was built for around 20,000 people, less than 2,600 live there today. Once a bustling river town and center of transportation, economic depression struck the city over half a century ago — Cairo never recovered. Racial tensions, economic decline, floods, and changes in river transportation were all factors to the city's entropy. Today it is essentially a ghost town with a few roads passing through. The Lewis and Clark expedition also passed through what was to become Cairo in the year 1803.
I have been to Cairo on a number of occasions. The first time was in 2008 with my brother, Philip. The photos in this blog post were taken in the summer of 2015 with my girlfriend, Nella. The city has changed considerably in some ways but hardly at all in others. For instance, when my brother and I visited the first time, it was as if we were in a bombed-out, war-torn city. Buildings had collapsed into the street, empty bottles littered the entrances to abandoned buildings, and stray dogs roamed the streets. I visited in 2008, 2011, 2015, and 2016. I discovered on each trip that a little more of the town was gone. When I arrived in 2015 the majority of the downtown area had been demolished since my first visit in 2008. I would say 85% of what I saw in 2008 was gone eight years later — And who knows how much had already been torn down before '08. The city does look cleaner now. There are more vacant lots but at least the rubble in the streets had been removed. I am not sure why more was not done for the city as it floundered. I suppose there just wasn't enough interested or funds to do anything before it was too late. It's upsetting that Cairo has essentially lost its entire historic downtown.
Each visit to the near-ghost town leaves me with thoughts about the lives of the people who once inhabited the city, as well as those who still call it home. For me, the atmosphere is thick with a lingering residue of depression, racial tension, floods, and all of the hardships the community has endured. I am hopeful for the future of Cairo.
