your-true-underdog-story-blog

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Here's a photo of one of my dearest friends, Claire. She is wild and wonderful and always challenges me to be a better me. -Ella Tzinberg, Asheville, NC

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This is a picture of two of my friends experiencing a moment of utter joy. The two of them embody a love worth chasing after, full of respect and what seems to me to be a patience and understanding they both have for each other. It was Lane's birthday and we all were there to celebrate her. Yeah, it's blurry, yeah it's out of focus - but who the fuck cares? I captured their smiles and that's what this moment was about :) --Autumn, Atlanta, GA

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Ricky Emmons and Owen Wilson would like to know, "tennis, anyone?"

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“I’m particularly sensitive to posting too many flauntingly happy and annoyingly adorable photos with my boyfriend on social media. I mean LOOK at those dumb faces! The act of being vulnerable and sharing my deep love on the internet usually feels underwhelming and trite. So I usually don’t. But truth be told, love DOES have its almighty grasp on me and I AM that annoyingly happy.”

Nika Ezell Pappas, Harlem, New York

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“This is my ride or die festi hopping friend Sie and I eating pizza loaded with shroomiez at Counterpoint Festival this year :) We were already on another planet…but this blasted us into a another dimension in a far away galaxy.” -Autumn Hamilton, Atlanta, GA

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“So let’s start off by saying that the city of Dresden is highly creepy. It’s all fake, almost every single square foot of it. The U.S. bombed the ba'jesus out of it for arguably no reason in WWII. 50 years later, the city is rebuilt, looking as it did before the war… But with the extra spice of pressure washed exteriors.

As I’m touring this fake city with a group of high schoolers I’m chaperoning, I see a face I recognize. It’s a bust of Ron Swanson, resting awkwardly on a doorway. Literally this bro is Ron Swanson, from the mustache to the goofy smile. I started thinking what Ron would say if he was in Dresden. I’m assuming it would be a mix of something patriotic and anti-government at the same time.” -Monica Flamini, Atlanta, GA

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I found this one buried deep in the bowls of my inter-web and it immediately spoke to me. Less than a minute ago was the first time I have seen this photo in almost ten years. Goose-bumps, frog in the throat. Very emotional. Extremely happy and grateful. Right now I may or may not be crying. The above photo was taken on the second night of my very first Long Distance Backpacking trip. The day before was my first of many subsequent summits of Mt. Katahdin. The Northern Terminus. The Mountain of The People of Maine, and it was glorious. Life altering. The next morning I slung my heavy backpack over my shoulders and with a single step walked past that as yet unfamiliar white blazed tree and into the unkown. The Hundred mile Wilderness. My first section Southbound on the famed Appalachian Trail. Anxious, terrified, Green. The silhouette you may or may not see perched next to the fire in this unassuming, poorly lit, garbage bin grade digital photograh, is a Southbound Thru-hiker whom I met that first night in the wilderness. He called himself Warraghiyagey, 'A man who undertakes great things,' is the native Mohawk translation. Warrgy, as he was to be affectionately known, had taken this day off from hiking. Having climbed the Mountain two days earlier, Warrgy, as Green as I, but exponentially less prepared, had hauled a massive load into the 100 mile wilderness. Multiple changes of cotton clothing. Fully bound leather editions of the classics, and at least 15 pounds of camera gear. I tried to lift his pack fully loaded but couldn't budge it from the shelter floor. His back was wrenched after his first 10 miles into his trek thanks to that gigantic load. This man was most obviously physically and mentally beaten. This night. At my very first Appalachian trail shelter, on the second day of a journey into the rugged North Maine Woods, Warraghiyagey ceremoniously burned the contents of that gigantic backpack. At this particular snapshot in time, this brave man told the story of his mentor, his teacher, his sachem, from whom he had learned what it meant to be a man, someone who took care of him, and in turn, was taken care of. Simultaneously and non-nonchalantly, Warrgy tossed a visibly worn, frayed cotton t-shirt bearing an image of Native American art, a Wolf's head inside a dreamcatcher, if my memory serves me correctly. It was obvious that this shirt had served its purpose and its wearer well through many many seasons. As he finished his story, Warrgy began to cry, and then continued, explaining that the fibers that remained as the fire burned that wolf was what was left of his mentor's favorite shirt. The last and only gift from a dying man to his loving student. During the next 300 gloriously difficult miles Southbound, I had the pleasure of walking with Warrgy. He became my mentor, and my very good friend. He read passages from Dillard's 'A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek,' which subsequently changed my outlook on life. He taught me how to teach, and he showed me how to be patient. I learned how to live, and how not to live from Warrghiyagey during our time hiking through mountains of Maine. And it dosn't seem like ten years have gone by. This brave man remains one of my closest friends and confidants to this very day. We talk regularly, but not as we should. We plan trips that never end up panning out, but that's okay. I'll see him again, and we will go for a walk. What a profound ten minutes I just had. Owing it solely to the inevitability that I've already seen this episode of Seinfeld, like six times, and, I'm a sucker for junk drawers.. I have physical drawers full of random pictures..and loos playing cards, magnets, and those little yellow corn on the cob handles that I refuse to throw out but never use. Digital drawers full of pictures that I pray won't ever be shared, or worse, lost somewhere in this vast inter-web that I will never understand or even began to contemplate. Yet to this enigma which I naturally shun and dismiss, I am so extremely grateful, as it allows instantaneous access and communication to those I care about the most in this world, but can't see as often as we deserve. People like Warrghiyagey, and my great friend Lane. A huge thank you and long distance air hug to you Lane, one of my best and closest friends for this incredibly creative and eye-opening project. We all have so much tucked away in all of our little drawers, boxes, folders, pockets and zippers. It is immensely important to hang on to these treasures and visit them once in a while. It is the least we can do for these under-appreciated misfit reminders of oh so important memories of the events which shape our lives forever, . I, like many reading this to be sure, have had the pleasure of learning from Lane, another of my life's true teachers. Tolerance, openness, forgiveness, sillyness and playfulness, and lots of other ness' that I'm sure all of you out there can relate to. Lane, you and I are 'The Fox and the Hound.' I don't know how it happened but it did and I'm forever grateful and humbled to count you a friend. What a great, big, mysterious, and beautiful World we are so lucky to be a part of. "The language of friendship is not words, but meanings" -HDT With loads of Love, Nathan L.

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HEY EVERYBODY! This is a public service announcement to encourage folks to keep submitting! Put the neglected photos that are just taking up memory in your phone to good use. Share them with me! Tell me their stories! Don’t let the “rules” of social media dictate your idea of beauty! Damn the man, save the empire! Follow the project at @a_true_underdog_story to check out the really wonderful submissions I’ve received so far. I would love to add yours to the collection. Submit via email (atrueunderdogstory@gmail.com) or Tumblr (your-true-underdog-story.tumblr.com)

Ps…This is my underdog story. I was never going to publish this picture on any social media site. You can’t really see Grace’s face, the lighting kind of sucks, and, to anyone else, it’s just a lady in a kitchen. But I love it. I love it because this was our very first night in our new house in Boone. Everything was still in boxes and we had gone our separate ways to nest as we needed. The kitchen will always be Grace’s kingdom because it is where she is truly herself: a lady of talent, poise, and passion. This picture makes me grateful. -Lane Emmons, Boone, NC

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HEY EVERYBODY! This is a public service announcement to bring your attention to a new lil project I'm working on. Put the neglected photos that are just taking up memory in your phone to good use. Share them with me! Tell me their stories! Don't let the "rules" of social media dictate your idea of beauty! Damn the man, save the empire! Follow the project at @a_true_underdog_story to check out the really wonderful submissions I've received so far. I would love to add yours to the collection. Submit via email (atrueunderdogstory@gmail.com) or Tumblr (your-true-underdog-story.tumblr.com) Ps...This is my underdog story. I was never going to publish this picture on any social media site. You can't really see Grace's face, the lighting kind of sucks, and, to anyone else, it's just a lady in a kitchen. But I love it. I love it because this was our very first night in our new house in Boone. Everything was still in boxes and we had gone our separate ways to nest as we needed. The kitchen will always be Grace's kingdom because it is where she is truly herself: a lady of talent, poise, and passion. This picture makes me grateful. -Lane Emmons, Boone, NC #love #food #atrueunderdogstory (at Rich Mountain (Watauga County, North Carolina))

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“At this point, I was still wringing myself out to dry. Everything was just soaked I don’t know how I ended up so drenched, but it just kept coming. We stopped the car and waited. It was good to be still. It was good to be even more quiet.” -Ella Snyder, Nashville, TN

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“My sister made these sugar lollipops today, and I took a bunch of pictures of one for our blog. I loved this the most but she thought it was ugly so we posted another one (perils of blogging). I still like this one more, though. Is this what this blog is for? I’m not sure. I’m not very deep. Also… HOW PRETTY IS THAT SKY?” -Johara

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“Everyone seemed to need a band-aid that day. With stubbed toes and fingers caught in doors, we all experience trauma. I asked her what was wrong when she came requesting for her own band-aid: ‘It hurts…it hurts right here.’” -Ella Snyder, Nasheville, TN

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“My grandma is 93 and not the best mentally. About a year or so ago her caretaker had a baby and started bringing her to my grandma’s house when she’d watch her. My grandmother completely fell in love. She calls her "my baby!” She’s always asking, “Have you met my baby?” “Where’s my baby?” This baby completely gave my grandmother life. She’s happy and vibrant again. She smiles all the time. She’s mentally more with it. I took this picture right after the baby came over and immediately ran to my grandma and leapt into her arms. Seeing the joy and comfort they get from each other is amazing.“ -Claire Rigsby, Portland, OR

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“I took this photo after a fun day with my friend Jo. As the sun was setting, we drove off to pick up our friend Kayla from work. We crossed a bridge that often has a beautiful view, and I have often fantasized about stopping to take a photo, but never did. There was still some time before Kayla would be released, so I looked at Jo and said "I’m pulling over”. We ran onto the bridge and tried to do the sky some justice with our camera phones.
The day was highly documented, so I never uploaded this photo. But I keep coming back to it and thinking about how rich this day was; how the sky looking so pretty is rare, and how a fun day with a friend is rare. Even if it feels ordinary at the time.“ -Lee Fitzgerald, Albany, NY #poetry #photography #incarswithfriends #sky #atrueunderdogstory

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“I love this photo of me and my ladyfraynds out to dinner around Christmas. The picture is too blurry and hectic to post, but it just reminds me how vibrant and beautiful the women in my life are.” -Claire Rigsby, Portland, OR

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This photo was taken at the publix parking lot at Chastain square. Pretty sure I sent this to you, Lane, but I didn’t post it because it’s a shitty picture. But look at it. Look at the dog. He’s staring at me. What does HE WANT. -Ricky Emmons, Atlanta, GA

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“‘Why are you taking a picture of the floor?’ 'It looks like space! We’re walking on space. Isn’t this incredible?’ 'I don’t get the things you say or do, but you’re my eldest daughter so I guess it’s ok.’” -Sarah Qaaid, Abu Dhabi, UAE