The Zimmerman's Story in Jacksonville, Oregon

My husband and I were obsessed with the weather during our cross-country road trip.  It seemed that about 90% of our conversations revolved around whatever region's particular climate.  

"It's the middle of May, there is no way we can get snowed in... right?"

"Look, this towel was soaking wet last night. Feel it.  Completely dry! How about that?!"     

"A high of 110 today but tonight it will be 56!  Incredible!"

"Whaaaaat? I made this sandwich 5 minutes ago, the bread is as dry as toast!"  

Since I have lived in the sticky South nearly all my life, experiencing the intensely dry heat out west was fascinating.  At first it was amazing.  Everything was covered in dust -- but my hair never looked better.  Yet as the temperature rose the novelty of bone dry kitchen sponges every morning began to wear off. Then there was that day outside Las Vegas where the sky felt like 1,000 hairdryers in your face.  We learned that tons of people died building the Hoover Dam because of the heat and I totally get it because my hands literally broke out in heat blisters just looking at the dam.  And there was that one time we saw a gigantic rainstorm in the distance.  Oh, how I longed for it as we drove closer and closer to the ominous clouds.  Only to discover it was a Virga rain - a storm that evaporates before it hits the ground.   My bones ached for rain!  At one point, I searched the web for "places with coolest summers in the US".  We rerouted our trip and hightailed it to Flagstaff, Arizona where each afternoon was kissed with a gentle sunshower and peaceful breezes throughout the night.    

There is a word that I want to use to describe Flagstaff that sounds way too fancy to be a Molly Flanagan word, but I am going to use it anyway.  Respite.  Which is a short period of rest or relief from something difficult or unpleasant.   Heat, snow, sickness, injury, car troubles, wrong turns, tarantulas.  Our 77 day adventure was filled with difficult and unpleasant things marked with many glorious respites which made the unbearable parts bearable. Respites in the form of Reeces Blizzards at Dairy Queen, listening to Mystery Show, hot showers that did not require flip flops, and Shawn & Courtney Zimmerman.       

We were only supposed to stay in Southern Oregon with the Zimmermans for a few nights, but our respite somehow became a maybe-we-should-be-paying-rent type of situation.  They took in all five of us.  Four of whom arrived with a stomach virus.  Let us (repeatedly) eat all their food.   Took us to rivers and lakes.  Camped with us on the coast.  And hijacked their friends swimming pool for us.  All while Shawn transitioned to a new job and temperatures soared above 100 degrees every day.  We finally said our good-byes, but then after our 4 year old was injured they welcomed us back so he would have time to begin to heal and we could reconfigure our travel plans. We savored the care and hospitality we received from each member of the Zimmerman family.  It was the most beautiful example of a respite.  

Thank you Zimmermans for opening your home and your hearts to us and for providing us with a respite we will always remember. 

The Ravnaas's Story in Minnessota and North Dakota

I am not sure where to begin, but maybe I will start off by saying photographing the Ravnaas family was an overwhelming honor.  It is complicated.  So I will let Sara tell you in her own words...

“Our story is a long but beautiful one. Our daughter was diagnosed at 18 weeks gestation with a very serious heart defect. After a fairly easy pregnancy, she was born full term in Minneapolis since North Dakota does not have the resources to care for kiddos with hearts so broken like our Elsa’s heart. After a few hours, we were told that not only did she have the one heart defect, but 4 more as well. Her best hope of survival was a series of 3 open heart surgeries to correct the flow and make her heart work more efficiently. These repairs are not a fix, but rather a bandaid to bridge the time before she would be listed for a heart transplant.

Elsa’s situation became more complicated about 2 years ago (she was 5 months old at the time) and we have not been able to get her back home to North Dakota ever since. She has been in our home for a total of 6 weeks in her 2.5 yrs of life. She has spent the majority of her life in a hospital and now with the help of home care nurses, she is able to be in a home setting that we provide for her in Minneapolis. We have been living separately now since March 2013.

My husband runs the show back in central North Dakota, and I run the show with Elsa in Minneapolis. We live on a rural cattle and small grains farm and our boys love the school and their friends. We have always wanted to be sure that they were getting their needs met as well in all of this craziness so we decided that giving them the stability of home and school was best for them long term. I have not been to our home since Jan 2014 when I went for a 3 day visit. Elsa is not able to travel back until she gets a clearance from her doctors which will be a minimum of another year if all goes well.”

When Sara heard I would be passing through her area she asked if I could photograph her, Elsa and her youngest son (that would be spending the summer with her) at their apartment in Minneapolis and then travel 460 miles to central North Dakota to photograph her husband and two other boys.  Sara misses home.  She misses seeing her boys off to school in the mornings and hearing their stories when they come home.  She has not seen the treehouse they built in the backyard or the improvements her husband has made to the property.  She doesn't know what new lego creations are displayed on the boys' dressers or whether they are keeping their sock drawers tidy. Any visits the boys are able to make to Minneapolis are crammed into the occasional long weekend -- and even then, only if everyone is healthy enough for Elsa's weak immune system.  It is crazy.  But they are making it work.

So, within 24 hours I was able to photograph them all.  Two homes.  Two stories.  One family.  

In Sara's words...

“Two family stories meshed into one over the distance.”

Elsa is currently in the hospital in Michigan for a new surgery.  She has been experiencing some complications recovering from the surgery.    You can visit her CaringBridge page here.  

The Dickson's Story in Niddrie, Scotland

This Spring I was able to photograph a missionary family to Niddrie, a suburb of Edinburgh. When I told people in Scotland I was spending the night in Niddrie. They would twist their faces up a bit and reply, "NIDDRIE? Why?!" Not your typical tourist town, Government Housing was built in Niddrie in the 1920s to house folks arriving in droves to Scotland to mine coal. The town soon became one of the most drug ridden communities in Scotland. In recent years, an effort to regenerate Niddrie has done away with the old government housing structures and many folks have been relocated to other places, leaving those left behind with a shattered sense of community as everything around them is changing. The Dicksons, originally from South Africa and Wales, left their careers to minister to folks in Niddrie, where they lived in a small flat with their three young boys.  They have recently moved on to another part of Scotland where they are planting a church.  

Subscribe to receive Molly Flanagan Photography News & Updates

The Swanson's Story in Minneapolis

Without boring you with the details, I broke my old website and have had a painfully difficult time transferring all of my content over to a new Wordpress site. After many months of extremely frustrating dead ends I have laid my old site of 7 years to rest.

RIP, old friend.   

Over the past few months of blog silence, I discovered I have more obsessive-compulsive tendencies than I realized. The thought of sharing my client work SOLELY on Facebook or Instagram made me shudder.  It just felt wrong -- and incomplete --  and I could not bring myself to do it.  Not at all a smart business move, as I have turned myself into a cyber-hermit.  Now I am more than 6 months behind on sharing and have forgotten how to put my thoughts into words.  So here goes nothin'... 

This summer my husband, kids and I packed up our Tahoe and a little camper and we spent 77 days traveling around the U.S.A.  I had several Family Storytelling Sessions along the way, where I was able to spend a few hours with each family documenting their day.  No posing or manipulating, just seeing how things played out.   

Which brings me to the below pictures.  Sarah Swanson is an AMAZING photographer (and amazing human being) that took my Visual Storytelling class a couple of years ago.  When I met her in class, I immediately began to daydream about photographing her family, so I can't even tell you how excited I was when it worked out for me to actually do it when we passed through Minneapolis.  Sarah's husband is a pastor in the Northside of Minneapolis where they live in this cool 100 year old house and have basically an "open door" policy with all of the neighborhood children.  Jump ropes and popsicles and lots of laughter.  The Swanson's are a beautiful example of taking an ordinary life and making it extraordinary and I am so grateful that our paths crossed.  

You can click HERE to see galleries of some of my favorite Family Storytelling Sessions.