Every time I’ve returned to Gary the last few years, it’s with a feeling that I’m coming to flog a dead horse. After all, I’ve been visiting this city for going on fifteen years, and it always seems there isn’t much left to see. But each time, the horse is still floggable. Or alive. Or dead but worth flogging. I don’t know, I flunked idioms.
Anyway, on a trip last spring, most of our time was spent shooting outside. A small playground close to the interstate proved an interesting find, wild and overgrown. We then meandered through the surrounding neighborhood. The homes we found weren’t too compelling on the inside, but some exteriors proved dramatic and haunting. Here’s some shots from that brisk April day.