I’m typing this from my phone. While taking a seat and giving my very tired feet a rest. Filming has just begun. We’re shooting tonight in this old dive restaurant that I am very familiar with.
For a large portion of my childhood my family came here to eat nearly every single Sunday after church. The food is not particularly good, but I do remember being adventurous once at age 10 when I tried fried oysters for the first time. I liked them and that became my regular. I’m not supposed to have a lot of specific work to do tonight, just need to stick close by incase something comes up. The last two days and nights have been so exhausting, finishing up and 3AM and 2AM.
I was back up this morning on very little sleep and still battling nasty allergies with a long to-do list trying to tackle it quickly in the morning so I could take a midday break at home before another shoot into the wee hours.
Working with a friend, or rather working for a friend on this film has been a learning experience with its share of bumpiness. Brandon is ten years my junior and my mentor also has become a mentor to him in recent years.
This is his first film project and his anxiety translates into crabbiness very quickly. Doesn’t like it when things don’t work out exactly as he planned or if you do something in a different way than he does it. And he doesn’t communicate his planning, what little of it he does, very well. He is talented and capable, just immature and unpolished.
So this morning I was certainly not feeling my best. We scheduled a time to meet and clear the house we filmed at last night.
I got to town and he was ordering breakfast at this little bakery, chatting up some friends. I know he just wanted to sit around and spit ball some ideas for set and prop pieces for later in the shoot. I wasn’t interested in that and he’ll just make up his mind on his own, without much input from me, so I told him I was headed to the house to start working on the thing we could actually do right away.
Again I admit I was just cranky in general at this point. We had just finished dropping off some furniture that was borrowed from friends in the area. Driving down a quiet and hikes or almost idyllic road in a very nice residential area of town.
Noticed a van parked on the street at a home being renovated. It was a work van for a local plumber named James that Brandon and I both know well. We slowed down to see if he was on the work site in hopes of saying a quick hello.
I saw a young guy that I didn’t know sitting on the ground, he was rolling a body over into his lap. Rolled the window down and asked if everything was OK. The young guy has a stunned look on his face but answered immediately with “Please call 9-1-1”.
I started dialing and we jumped out of the car. As I approached I could see this was my friend James laying on the ground. He was completely still, blue in the face. The young guy was fanning him. Brandon darted to the front of the house to find there exact location. I passed that info onto the emergency operator.
The operator had us lay his body flat on the ground. I checked for a pulse, but didn’t find one. Checked his airways for any signs of breathing. Nothing. There was a clear bile coming from his mouth. The EMTs arrived quickly, maybe two and half minutes. They started trying to revive him. Asking us what happened.
James’ young employee stated he said he wasn’t feeling good and sat down. Told him they were going to call it day and he should start packing up the tools. He took something to van, Carmen back around the corner and saw James lying face down on the ground. Moments later we drove by and stopped.
More emergency personal started showing up. The employee got ahold of James’ wife Becky. A local police officer took statements from us.
I drifted away from the scene. Couldn’t bear to stand around and watch. Walked about half a block away and sat on the curb. I knew it. I knew from the moment I saw him and looked him over. I just sat there praying. Occasionally looking back toward the chaos.
Becky arrived. I saw her from a distance. Rushing to him. Then the screams. Sometime later their oldest son Dalton showed up. I stayed back, gave them space. Probably more for my own benefit than theirs.
Brandon and I had spent over an hour there. He overheard the paramedics telling the family that it looked like an aneurysm and that James likely died instantly. We had to pull ourselves together and get back to work. I barely made it home to grab a quick shower before heading to the set.
I nearly called L. Of course I wanted to call her first when something traumatic or big was happening. But I refrained from doin so. I know she wouldn’t have minded me calling her given the circumstance, but even still I just couldn’t.
I didn’t want a friendly ear to pour my heart out to. I wanted my wife. The love of my life. I was thinking about her in this terrible, tragic moment. How I wanted her because I was in pain & shock.
I thought about how James was a happy husband and father. His family meant the world to him and he did everything in his power to give the world to them. I couldn’t help but think about how I’ve lost my path to finding and building that kind of happy life. And how badly I still want it. Specifically with her.
But I can’t dwell on that. My thoughts and prayers will remain Becky, Dalton, and all of James’ family and friends.
For a large portion of my childhood my family came here to eat nearly every single Sunday after church. The food is not particularly good, but I do remember being adventurous once at age 10 when I tried fried oysters for the first time. I liked them and that became my regular. I’m not supposed to have a lot of specific work to do tonight, just need to stick close by incase something comes up. The last two days and nights have been so exhausting, finishing up and 3AM and 2AM.
I was back up this morning on very little sleep and still battling nasty allergies with a long to-do list trying to tackle it quickly in the morning so I could take a midday break at home before another shoot into the wee hours.
Working with a friend, or rather working for a friend on this film has been a learning experience with its share of bumpiness. Brandon is ten years my junior and my mentor also has become a mentor to him in recent years.
This is his first film project and his anxiety translates into crabbiness very quickly. Doesn’t like it when things don’t work out exactly as he planned or if you do something in a different way than he does it. And he doesn’t communicate his planning, what little of it he does, very well. He is talented and capable, just immature and unpolished.
So this morning I was certainly not feeling my best. We scheduled a time to meet and clear the house we filmed at last night.
I got to town and he was ordering breakfast at this little bakery, chatting up some friends. I know he just wanted to sit around and spit ball some ideas for set and prop pieces for later in the shoot. I wasn’t interested in that and he’ll just make up his mind on his own, without much input from me, so I told him I was headed to the house to start working on the thing we could actually do right away.
Again I admit I was just cranky in general at this point. We had just finished dropping off some furniture that was borrowed from friends in the area. Driving down a quiet and hikes or almost idyllic road in a very nice residential area of town.
Noticed a van parked on the street at a home being renovated. It was a work van for a local plumber named James that Brandon and I both know well. We slowed down to see if he was on the work site in hopes of saying a quick hello.
I saw a young guy that I didn’t know sitting on the ground, he was rolling a body over into his lap. Rolled the window down and asked if everything was OK. The young guy has a stunned look on his face but answered immediately with “Please call 9-1-1”.
I started dialing and we jumped out of the car. As I approached I could see this was my friend James laying on the ground. He was completely still, blue in the face. The young guy was fanning him. Brandon darted to the front of the house to find there exact location. I passed that info onto the emergency operator.
The operator had us lay his body flat on the ground. I checked for a pulse, but didn’t find one. Checked his airways for any signs of breathing. Nothing. There was a clear bile coming from his mouth. The EMTs arrived quickly, maybe two and half minutes. They started trying to revive him. Asking us what happened.
James’ young employee stated he said he wasn’t feeling good and sat down. Told him they were going to call it day and he should start packing up the tools. He took something to van, Carmen back around the corner and saw James lying face down on the ground. Moments later we drove by and stopped.
More emergency personal started showing up. The employee got ahold of James’ wife Becky. A local police officer took statements from us.
I drifted away from the scene. Couldn’t bear to stand around and watch. Walked about half a block away and sat on the curb. I knew it. I knew from the moment I saw him and looked him over. I just sat there praying. Occasionally looking back toward the chaos.
Becky arrived. I saw her from a distance. Rushing to him. Then the screams. Sometime later their oldest son Dalton showed up. I stayed back, gave them space. Probably more for my own benefit than theirs.
Brandon and I had spent over an hour there. He overheard the paramedics telling the family that it looked like an aneurysm and that James likely died instantly. We had to pull ourselves together and get back to work. I barely made it home to grab a quick shower before heading to the set.
I nearly called L. Of course I wanted to call her first when something traumatic or big was happening. But I refrained from doin so. I know she wouldn’t have minded me calling her given the circumstance, but even still I just couldn’t.
I didn’t want a friendly ear to pour my heart out to. I wanted my wife. The love of my life. I was thinking about her in this terrible, tragic moment. How I wanted her because I was in pain & shock.
I thought about how James was a happy husband and father. His family meant the world to him and he did everything in his power to give the world to them. I couldn’t help but think about how I’ve lost my path to finding and building that kind of happy life. And how badly I still want it. Specifically with her.
But I can’t dwell on that. My thoughts and prayers will remain Becky, Dalton, and all of James’ family and friends.
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