Digger's New Year's story | my Yellow box of photography

Digger’s New Year’s story

Digging right before New Year’s day. Nobody expected such an end.
date: 30.12
Exploration object : “Sarkanā Zvaigzne” former-moto factory

Early morning was rising as we arrived on our four wheel black horse to an
abandoned building. The backside had fallen off long ago, and enormous holes had
grown in the place where the best motorcycles once stood.





The man’s name was Harry. He cleared the floor with his jacket and laid down, using the bag he carried as a pillow. He told himself that this is not for long, only for a while, and made a more comfortable pillow.
Days were passing by and sober mornings became occasional memories.
During the rapid walk to the church that was ten minutes away, December sunlight was giving him hopes of merciful winter this year. He remembered winters of his youth, when he used to walk home from musical conservatory keeping his tired fingers deep in his pockets. Cold breeze was freezing the nose and he could always see his breath.
Every year it snowed but not this year. Standing in the queue he didn’t speak to anybody, he had only several friends he was acquainted to since then. Two years ago he had lost his flat, he felt anger for some man, even though he understood he had not been cheated. This was the moment that brought him here, to this queue, to another reality of life.
Every day seems the same. He wakes up, has breakfast, and all day long keeps searching the trash for things that he could sell and get some money to buy himself a drink.
First time I faced him, we took a minute to understand each other in silence. He said his name and shook my hand.

We agreed to meet later that at night time to see and hear about his life now.

It is 10pm and we are here. Our flashlights are showing the way through the darkness and ever hungry holes. Broken glass is cracking under our boots making screaming noise in this black silence. I can hear my heartbeat, I don’t know what to expect from this stranger. I am close, a few steps in and I stop .. loudly I say: Harry! Harry!


I have always wondered about these people we can see on the streets, people we pass by. After-all he is a part of me, isn’t he ?



“I’m here!” he replied and invited to come in. He was surprised that we kept our word and came to speak. He lit a candle and we suddenly felt the usual atmosphere here at this hour. I was looking at this man trying to roll a cigarette from tobacco that he kept in a beautiful metal box, and I was wondering about the reason he ended up here.

“I finished music conservatory when I was young, and during that time I was trying alcohol and light drugs just as many of my friends did. Later, one day something went wrong in my mind and I decided to rob a flat and I got caught. And there were no warnings, no second tries, no apologies to make, I had to go directly to prison. And this is how my life turned around,” said Harry.

“Prison life didn’t teach me good things, and even after I was released I continued to do things for what people are being put in jail. And eventually I went to prison again. During that period I was sent to work in a wood factory. I was a good worker, but still I had my own problems.”


“My good behavior was my second ticket out of that place. I found a job and a place to live. Only one thing was pulling me down – alcohol.”

“Now alcohol is my medicine to be able to fall asleep.
Too much stress from this strange synthesis of life.”


Greetings in the New Year !