A moment that haunts me

An East Timor family arrives at a makeshift morgue in Dili to recover the body of their son killed the day before in clashes between pro independence factions and paramilitary thugs.

​As a wire service photographer for more than 30 years, I have seen my share of death and misery.  It started back in 1984 when I was assigned to help AP Photographer Lenny Ignelzi cover the funerals of the victims of the San Ysidro massacre where a lone gunman shot and killed 21 people in a McDonalds.

Watching people grieve over the loss of a loved one and then attempt to photograph that without being disrespectful to the family of the victim is done with either empathy for the people or you can just be a jerk and blast away figuring you will never see these people again so WTF.

During the funerals of the Edmond, Oklahoma post office massacre I realized immediately the victims were almost family to me.  Suddenly a fine line between doing my job and just walking away was drawn for me.
For a long time when I had to photograph a funeral, I chose a telephoto lens and just stood back.  No need to get close, just frame it up and shoot.

Fast forward a couple of years, I had taken the post as the southeast Asia photo editor for the Associated Press responsible for covering such things as the independence vote in East Timor.

Now I bet money that the average American can't spell East Timor much less find it on a map.

But for the past 25 years (back in 1998), it has been a part of Indonesia and is not far from the island where the famous Komodo dragons live.  Indonesian President B. J. Habibie had brokered a deal with the United Nations by where they would monitor the independence referendum making sure it was fair and square.  
Leading up to the vote there had clashes between pro-independence factions and paramilitary thugs loyal to Jakarta.

Almost the entire population of East Timor came out to vote, seventy-five percent approved the measure to leave control of Indonesia who had invaded some 25 years earlier.  The violence began almost immediately following the vote.  I had arrived a couple of days before the vote and in my posting on East Timor 1998, I detail that.

What I want to share here is a moment.  It is not a pretty one though.

This is the moment when this family realizes their worst nightmare has come true.  Their son killed the day before in a clash between East Timor Pro Independence factions and paramilitary thugs has been placed in a makeshift morgue in Dili.  

This photograph haunts me to this day some 20 years later.  I can not look at it and not feel sad for this family and their loss.  I can not look at it and not feel anger for those that killed him.  I feel certain no police came, no report was taken and then just a funeral for this young man that afternoon.

I photographed that funeral as part of the ongoing news coverage of the East Timorese story.  Many times I have been welcomed into a home where tragedy has struck and so, in this case, it was similar to others I had photographed.  A very poor family dealing with the loss of their oldest son while outside in the capital of Dili the situation was going from bad to worse.