In the run-up to the World War II, the whole population of the village was evacuated. It was 1943 and most of Salisbury Plain was owned by the MOD. Somewhere was needed for the American troops to practice street fighting in preparation for the Allied invasion of mainland Europe, and Imber must have seemed the obvious choice. The inhabitants were given 47 days’ notice to leave, which apparently they did willingly in the expectation that they would return after the war. This never happened, despite controversy following the war (including a rally in 1961 involving 2000 people).

The village is still controlled by the Ministy of Defence, and as such is closed to the general public. However, once in a while it is opened up for people to visit, as it was last weekend over Easter. It was a grey, cold April day, which somehow seemed quite suited to visiting a ghost village. Driving to Imber across Salisbury Plain, it was apparent how isolated the place is, down an unmarked track off the main road, past numerous roadside signs warning of unexploded debris, and then down into a wooded valley. You first see the pretty 700-year old church of St Giles (which is still maintained) through the trees, though on coming down the hill it’s apparent this is no ordinary English village – apart from the church, there’s not much that survives of the original village apart from the shells of a few buildings. Near the fenced-off church are some military buildings constructed in the 60′s. And that’s about all there is to it. But it’s fascinating all the same, perhaps for its inaccessibility, and perhaps for the fact that you can’t help thinking of the village as it once was and the community that lived there.

One particular morning we left our campsite in Alabama, and once we were on the road we switched on the radio expecting the usual mix of banter and music. Instead, whichever station we turned to, we seemed to be arriving half way through a report describing a major news event. It was of course September 11th 2001, but coming to it late as we did, it took a while to piece together quite what was going on. We pulled over at a Radio Shack in Birmingham, Alabama, to see if there was something about it on one of the TVs in the store – and in fact all the TVs in the store, in horrific unison, were showing replays of the events of the morning, culminating in the extraordinary scene of the collapse of the Twin Towers.

I took a number of photos in the following days, both of scenes and people, many of which I’ve not done anything with in the ten years since they were created.

One interesting phenomenon we noticed while driving around in the days following Sept 11 was that fast-food joints and other establishments that advertised their services on the side of the road were replacing their deal-of-the-day with a patriotic message, often with a religious twist. Wendy’s and Discount Auto Parts had a straightforward ‘God Bless America’, while Mrs Winner’s Chicken & Biscuits proclaimed ‘Let Freedom Ring’, and the Grand Casino Tunica promoted ‘One Nation under God’. They were interesting to us as outsiders in that they seemed to neatly package the ideas of Christianity, American national pride, and commercialisation that we experienced as being so integral to the USA  – the very ideas one might argue that Bin Laden was aiming his terror at.

Individuals too were keen to go out of their way to declare their allegiance to their nation – something which wasn’t lost on the T-shirt vendors of New Orleans. While on the road it was already clear to us that the US flag was a potent symbol of patriotism that people were proud to fly in their front yards. And indeed it was usually the Stars and Stripes that featured most heavily on the shirts, more often than not accompanied either by a religious message or some sort of taunt directed at Bin Laden, be it a fighter jet or simply the word ‘asshole’.

The Deep South proved to be a varied and fascinating place, as much for the people we met as for anything else. I took a number of portraits during the month we were there, and those photos in a way act as place markers when I remember the trip – our neighbour in the Nashville motel, the man sitting on his bed in Louisiana State Penitentiary serving life for murder, the swamp guide in Cajun country, the self-harming kids in New Orleans…

But the one place that stands out, just as it must do for everyone else, is the place we were in when we heard the news that morning of September 11th – in our case, a TV shop in the middle of Alabama.

Another interesting one was photographing the Wimbledon Junior range for spectacle lens manufacturer Rodenstock. It was an outdoors shoot at Wimbledon tennis club, so we were praying for good weather. Inevitably, it chucked it down and was blowing a gale! But with a bit of help from the magic from a couple of Profoto Pro B3 packs and Leo’s assisting skills we dashed out in between showers and managed to get something that *almost* looked like it might have been shot in summer…

Corporate headshots for PR company Ketchum was another good one, thanks to Andrew who passed the work my way due to being laid up (poor guy – that’s another story). Normally this sort of thing would be flash lit, but their bright airy offices meant there was enough daylight to shoot it all with available light. Inevitable colour balance shifts during the day, so there was a bit of Lightroom tweaking involved afterwards…

Plus lots and lots of photos of our own baby model… (10 weeks old now, and starting to grin like a Cheshire cat)

Random photo from the archives #1.

Have a look & see what you think…

Little Ollie arrived 5 weeks ago now and has proved to be a very willing model. Here are some of his portfolio moments…