I know her as “Alice”

I saw her walking across a park in Savannah, Georgia, talking incoherently to herself. Her face had such amazing character that I knew I wanted to photograph her. The problem is I’m terrible at approaching strangers and asking for a photograph. I’m not even good at asking people I know for a photograph. This time though, I had to do it. I needed to make a photograph of her.

I changed my route through the park so that our paths would cross. When we were close I channeled every bit of courage I had, pushed back all my nerves and started to speak. I told her how amazing I thought she looked and asked if I could make a photograph. She walked right by me, continuing to talk incoherently to herself, completely ignoring me and my request. I wasn’t sure if she didn’t hear me or if she was unable to comprehend what I had said.

I took it as a rejection. I turned to watch her as she continued her path through the park, disappointed that I wasn’t able to get the photograph.

When she was most of the way across the park, I stopped watching her and turned to walk away.

Then I heard it.

“Where’d you go? I’m ready for my picture!”

I turned back and there she was, standing on the grass looking at me. She had chosen a spot in the park and stood there waiting for me to come and make her photograph.

I rushed over, checking my camera settings as I moved. When I reached her, I didn’t even try to move her. She had chosen that spot, so that is where I was going to photograph her.

I made one photograph and lowered my camera to chimp. She turned and walked away. There would be no second chance.

I didn’t have an opportunity to offer her some money, which I would have gladly given her for allowing me to make this photograph. I didn’t even have the chance to ask for her name.

To me, she has always been “Alice”