Photo by cinemafia

For my photo of the year I decided to pick an image of a traffic accident that occurred on Highland Avenue, right off the 101 in the early part of October. It’s a spot that I cross at least two times a day, five days a week, on my way to and from work. More importantly, it’s notorious for staging traffic accidents due to the confusing lane structure and light patterns.

What was different this time is that I decided to stop and document the accident. Most people just rested their heads on their shoulders and bitched about having to be diverted from the northbound Highland lanes to the southbound 101, and some may have even snapped a pic of the flipped car with their cellphone. But I decided in an instant to find somewhere to park, which was by no means easy, and get as close as possible to the crash.

Stowing my car on Cahuenga on the other side of the highway, I ran full speed under the 101, through bushes and to the scene of the crash. Out of breath, I dodged cars being directed to the detour, and finally got withing a stone’s throw of the car, resting silently on its top. Something about seeing this car on its back, like some kind of giant, dead beetle, felt at the same time alarming and amusing. It was something so familiar, only upside-down, and still mostly intact.

The first responders to the accident were two men from AAA, and I asked one of them, Sam, if I could take some photos of the scene from the perimeter that had been marked off by orange cones. He asked me if the shots would be in the paper, and I told them they would. He asked me which paper, and I told him the Times…a lie, but in the end it got me the shot.

Sam motioned for me to come closer and told me to hurry up because the cops were on their way and they were a bunch of assholes who would give me a hard time. I quickly crouched down on the ground right next to one of the cones circling the wreck and began shooting from a low angle. Seeing the scene from this close, without the chaos of the cars being detoured and the human elements involved, it felt serene, like any quiet urban landscape with the surrealist, overturned car thrown in for a gag.

After I took some shots, Sam asked if I’d take a few more of him next to the wreck. He told me that no one ever showed them (AAA workers) any appreciation, and he asked me to mention them and how they helped the victims involved in my article for the paper. I obliged and then thanked him and went on my way, feeling something like any journalist must when they nail the story they’ve been put to.