Half a Tank: Along Recession Road

The End of the Road

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 08:08:11 -0500

A self portrait Michael made in North Dakota. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post It’s the one question Michael and I heard most: Did you fight? The truth is, if we had, I probably would’ve blogged about it. There was a moment early on when Michael told me how he grew up in foster care and how easily he could’ve turned out like some of the more vulnerable people we were meeting. We were barely getting to know each other--we hadn’t met before this assignment--but I had to decide that night if our personal conversation was part of our journey, if it ought to be part of Half a Tank. On June 8, I posted a piece about our exchange under the headline: Mirrors, Thin Walls and Cheap Motels. As newspaper journalists, most of the stories we cover require us to step out of the picture. That’s where both

Out Of The Debris, A Survival Story

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 06:49:12 -0500

Danny Glass holds a photo Michael took of him four months ago, just days into our cross-country road trip. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post When we first met Danny Glass, he was sitting in a tent, half-naked, too weak to put on pants. He knew he was dying. "Can I ask a favor?" he said to Michael Williamson, the Washington Post photographer with whom I traveled across the country this summer. "Can I use one of those photos for my obituary?" That was in June. Flash forward to a couple of weeks ago: Michael and I stand in that same tangle of woods behind a motor vehicles office in Woodbridge, but we see no Danny, just the rain-soaked remnants of his belongings: a stained couch cushion he used as a mattress. A plastic water bowl for a dog he surrendered to a better home. A hospital wristband with

Helping One Another

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 11:02:21 -0500

Scene outside of Kokomo, Indiana, one of the areas hardest hit by the recession. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post Because of you, a young couple can now buy the wedding ring they desired. A family of five who feared every day that their lights would be turned off no longer needs to be frightened. And an out-of-work engineer who struggled with moving his family into a shelter now has housing options. All summer long, Michael and I saw people helping one another survive across the country. Still, the outpouring here on Half a Tank surprised both of us. Several of you didn’t just comment about the stories you read, you acted. Right now, five envelopes sit on my desk, each with a check addressed to either Justin Hamby or Holly Rogers, the couple who got married without the $186 ring they wanted. The lowest amount on any of

When Home Goes From A House To A Room

Mon, 05 Oct 2009 12:42:17 -0500

Michael and I met Ron and Yolanda Vazquez at a homeless shelter in Woodbridge and they agreed to share their story with us, even though it was difficult for them and their children. The story will appear in the Washington Post print edition tomorrow, but in the meantime, here is the story with photos you will not see in the paper or online elsewhere. Ron Vazquez was earning $85,000 a year, but after losing his job in January had to move his family into a homeless shelter In August. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post Ron Vazquez was not a drunk. Not a drug addict. Not mentally ill. For weeks, he repeated those three phrases to himself and anyone who would listen. He and his wife used to fight over walk-in closet space and which BMW to buy. Yolanda Vazquez is the quintessential PTA mom -- organized and energetic. Ron's

Silence From Lives On The Edge

Thu, 01 Oct 2009 10:03:55 -0500

Juan Rodriguez had one final wish: To die where he was born. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post Juan Rodriguez never called. He was supposed to when he got to San Antonio. The 75-year-old, who had been diagnosed with terminal cancer, hadn’t seen the city of his birth for more than half a century. He had no family there, no sense of what it looked like now. But it’s where he wanted to die and he said nothing was going to stop him from making the trip there from Sacramento. Not his rundown motor home. Not his broken van. Not his empty pockets. The last time we saw Juan, he estimated it would take him two weeks to reach San Antonio. That was a month and a half ago. He should've called by now. He promised he would. There are some people Michael and I met on our summer-long

Possessions Lost, Perspective Found

Wed, 30 Sep 2009 12:03:09 -0500

Anita Prins lost her job, her two homes and a closet full of clothes because of the economy, but she said she has gained new perspective. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post Anita Prins no longer cries every day. That's a change from when Michael and I last saw her a month and a half ago, standing outside a condo in Colorado that wasn't hers. Little in her life was. A former business proprietor who once owned two homes, Anita had been staying in borrowed space, eating donated food and relying on public transportation to get around. Her life had leaped from one extreme to the other--from coveted autonomy in which she relied on almost no one else to forced dependence in which she had no choice but to lean on many. It would take the recession, she told me when I called yesterday, to help her find a

In Las Vegas, A Slow Recovery

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 11:26:10 -0500

Cynthia Lucero goes through a scrapbook that holds photos of some of the things her family lost in the last year. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post It took just three months for Cynthia and Timothy Lucero to lose it all -- the 22-foot boat, the Ford Bronco and the three-bedroom house in a neighborhood where their two teenage sons felt safe. It will take much longer, the Las Vegas couple said, for them to get any of that back. “It’ll take a year for me to get on my feet, but it’s slowly going uphill,” Timothy Lucero said. “At least it’s not going downhill. I don’t know if it could have gone much more downhill.” When Michael and I first met the Luceros toward the end of July, they were living in a two-bedroom apartment in a neighborhood where clothes left outside to dry risked being stolen. Their

Mourning A Local Family

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 09:36:34 -0500

Many of the mourners at a vigil for a Maryland family killed in a murder-suicide were high school friends of 14-year-old Charles Dalton, Jr. who was shot by his father Charles Dalton, Sr. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post Hundreds stood with candles in hand Sunday night outside a Mount Airy home where a father struggling to survive the recession killed his wife, two children and the family's dog before turning the gun on himself. At the vigil, the childrens' classmates wrapped arms around one another, crying, trying to understand how this had happened. The deaths were the latest of several family murder-suicides in Maryland. Here's the story that ran on the Post's Web site after the bodies were discovered. Jennifer Neuman comforts her 6-year-old son Brandon as they visit the house where a family of four was lost to murder-suicide. Brandon used to ride his bike around the

For Richer or Poorer

Fri, 25 Sep 2009 09:06:47 -0500

Justin Hamby and Holly Rogers share a kiss as they eat pizza in the kitchen of their home in Oneida, Tennessee. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post Love stories sometimes end like this: A bride in blue, a groom in jeans and a ring that holds a promise of better days. Michael and I first told you about Justin Hamby, 24, and Holly Rogers, 21, back in June, near the start of our summer-long journey across America. They were the couple in Tennessee who were hitchhiking home from a job that didn't work out and wanted nothing more than to get married. But there was one small detail stopping them: A ring. Hamby had told Rogers to pick out whichever ring she wanted. She chose a sterling silver one from Walmart for $186. But the couple couldn’t afford even that. Hamby and Rogers had each lost their jobs. So

Coming Home

Wed, 23 Sep 2009 10:27:05 -0500

Dana lost her job in the food services industry, but, for now, has been able to hold onto her apartment in Prince George's County. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post A woman stood near the Wheaton Plaza mall in a floral dress that made it clear she cared about her appearance. She held up a sign that told of her pained, but not yet crippled state. “Jobless,” it said, “not -- yet -- homeless.” A box was drawn around the last three words. The woman, who gave her name only as Dana, said she lost her job at a restaurant and is clinging to her apartment in Prince George’s County. She panhandles in Montgomery County, she said, because people there are more able and willing to give. When Michael and I started our trip at the beginning of the summer, Wheaton Plaza was one of our first stops. We

Feeling the Pinch in Maine

Tue, 22 Sep 2009 09:29:32 -0500

View of Matinicus, Maine from the small airplane that carts not only passengers to and from the island, but also mail and groceries. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post MATINICUS, Maine--It was going to be an embarrassing day. We just didn’t know it yet. All Michael and I knew that foggy morning in Matinicus was that lobstermen start their day early, so we hurriedly -- and mistakenly -- shoved down breakfast at the island's only B&B. (The two-mile-long strip of land about 25 miles off the coast is a smudge on the map, small enough that there are a lot of onlys – the only store, the only cab driver, the only airstrip). I checked the clock: 6:50 a.m. We downed the last of our coffee, took an English muffin to go and started walking down a dirt road toward the dock where we had planned to meet Clayton

A Harvest Ripe with Tension

Fri, 18 Sep 2009 14:34:36 -0500

A group of apple pickers head deep into the orchard where they will work for the next few months in Wolcott, N.Y. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post WAYNE COUNTY, N.Y.--In an apple grove of beckoning trees, a Fairfax high school graduate labors alongside six Mexican men, filling crates with freshly picked Galas and Lindamacs. “All of them?” one man asks in Spanish, unsure of which ones to drop in the bucket that hangs around his neck. “All but the bad ones,” Chris Wagner, a 1986 graduate of Robert E. Lee High School, replies in his best, but stunted Spanish. If Michael and I had met Wagner a year earlier, we would have found a man in charge of his own business, earning $50 an hour. But when we met him on our way through New York, he confessed that he was doing a job “not too many white

One Woman's Dogged Effort

Wed, 16 Sep 2009 15:12:02 -0500

Dawn Thompson walks across the back porch of the house in Falconer, N.Y., where she lives and operates a canine rescue. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post FALCONER, N.Y.--A cat with a shattered voice that sounded more like a dove's coo than a purr kept her distance as eight or so dogs charged out of Dawn Thompson’s house and into her backyard. The cat had been thrown from a car. And in their own ways, many of the dogs, too, had been broken. There was Duke, a small mutt that was brought to Thompson after his owner moved into an apartment that didn't allow pets. Duke walked slowly through the yard, trailing the other dogs. Then there was Ringo, a chihuahua and rat terrier mix that survived an illness that felled his siblings. He jumped high for attention. Diesel, a black lab and rottweiler mix, ran wildly through the

Featured Advertiser

Wed, 16 Sep 2009 15:12:02 -0500

A Model Business Plan

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 13:13:13 -0500

The sign in front of Chuck Kimmeth's Corvette toy business in Erie, Pa. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post ERIE, Pa.--The hand-painted sign outside Chuck Kimmeth’s store said it all: "Dream of owning a corvette? Everyone can afford one here!!" Without saying it, the sign acknowledged that there are those who are not going to get their dream car this year, who will have to push aside that fantasy, along with other goals and hopes at a time when necessities alone have strained budgets. But the sign also offered a solution: Model-sized Corvettes. Small ones. Large ones. Corvettes made of plastic and Corvettes made of metal. Corvettes honoring Hollywood icons and Corvettes decorated with Disney characters. Inside Cj’s Corvettes, tens of thousands of models hang from racks, line the shelves and fill the basement. They are the culmination of a collection that began as Chuck Kimmeth's personal hobby --

Where The Buck Stops

Mon, 14 Sep 2009 16:11:02 -0500

It's easy to feel watched in Gene Clemens' North Ridge Taxidermy shop in Geneva, Ohio. Photo by Michael Williamson/The Washington Post GENEVA, Ohio--“There’s a story to them all,” Gene Clemens says, standing in front of about half a dozen deer heads mounted on the wall. He's flipping through a photo album, its pages filled with men in baseball caps and jeans grinning wide next to their lifeless catch. “He had a little doe mounted for his boy,” Clemens says looking at one photo. “Oh, this one’s a sad story,” he says, turning the page. “His brother-in-law got killed not long after he picked up his deer.” “Here’s a deer that got hit by a car on Route 2,” he says of another. “It demolished the car.” Whatever you think of the morality of hunting, there are many parts of the country where it is a way of life. The