Sports play a quintessential role in experiencing the American Dream. On the field, court, track, pool or rink is where our heroes are born. It is a place where even those coming from less than ideal circumstances can rise above their social station. These venues are secular churches to the American Dream: a place where people can congregate, worship the spectacle of conflict, and adore those with seemingly superhuman abilities. On the western edge of Gleason Park in Gary, Indiana is such a church. Concrete walls are collapsing around the narthex. Weeds grow unfettered in the sanctum of the football field. The roar of the crowd in the pews are not but the chirping of fleeting birds. With no gods to worship, the American Dream is essentially dead at Gilroy Stadium.
Sports, money, corruption, the KKK, and Michael Jackson are all a part of my latest American Urbex article.
An excerpt about my sustained and so far unsuccessful job search on the American Urbex website.
When I am photographing an urbex location I see remnants of the American Dream. I see it in the ingenuity of the massive steel machines left behind in factories. I see it in the peeling paint on an abandoned home. I see it in the fading logo of an American made pickup trapped in a collapsed garage. When reconciling the past with the present I can’t help but wonder when America will wake up from the dream. One thing I try to accomplish with my photography is to show comfortable Americans that, yes, this nightmare is the part of the American Dream that is conveniently omitted.
If you have any job leads, I’d like to know.