Trumping the digital images of Saturday night are two mental images, memories that I cherish.
Behind the curtains in the left wing, a father and son occupied a pair of folding chairs set against the stage wall. It was clear that the boy suffers from some sort of disabling condition, his small body frail and his limbs twisted.
His spindly hands gripped a kid-sized Epiphone electric guitar, and throughout the concert -- I mean without stopping -- he "played" along with the show. He seemed to know every song, every lick and every break, jamming and dancing with unbounded joy, a broad grin on his young face.
I stopped shooting the on-stage performances several times to photograph him, which only made his grin bigger and his strumming more energetic. I still don't know who he is.
Now, as then, the thought of this boy brings a smile and a tear.
Toward the end of the Reunion, headliner McGuffey Lane and friends performed arguably the band's biggest hit, "Long Time Lovin' You." I heard the familiar opening strains while crouching between the drum and keyboard risers, framing a shot of lead singer John Schwab approaching his microphone.Instead of pressing the shutter button, I turned the camera off, lowered it to my chest and quickly made my way off the stage. I hustled down the ramp, through the crowd and to the table where my wife and spawns were sitting.
I extended my hand to Mrs. KintlaLake. She smiled, stood and wrapped her arms around me. We slow-danced to "Long Time Lovin' You," just as we do every time we hear it.
The rest of the world could wait -- it's our song.
Placing a kiss on her cheek as the music faded and the audience cheered, I turned my camera on again and went back to work.
Yes, I love my photography and all of the heady behind-the-scenes stuff, but I love that woman a whole lot more.
