Big Piece

A few months ago, I visited a traveling Titanic exhibition that came through Dallas. It offered a compelling narrative of the disaster, told through artifacts from the White Star Line—including a single cup that had been smuggled off the ship before the tragedy. The storytelling was powerful and immersive.

This week, I had the opportunity to explore the Titanic artifact exhibition at the Luxor in Las Vegas. While similar in theme, this exhibit focused on items recovered directly from the wreck itself. There’s something profoundly moving about seeing objects that were actually aboard the ship during its final moments—each one offering a glimpse into the lives of the passengers and crew. It made the story feel much more real and personal.

The most striking piece for me was the “Big Piece”—a massive section of the ship’s hull that broke off as it split apart. Standing before it, you’re dwarfed by its sheer size. It’s a haunting reminder of the ship’s scale, with hundreds of rivets still visible and portholes through which someone—perhaps a worker or a passenger—once looked out.

The entire experience was somber and deeply reflective. It brought the reality of that fateful night into sharp focus in a way that words alone never could.

SS Hurricane Camille

I’ve written about the SS Hurricane Camille before, but this time I decided to take a deeper look at the tug over the years. Washed ashore during Hurricane Camille in 1969, the vessel became a well-known Gulfport, Mississippi landmark, a rusting reminder of what was once thought to be a once-in-a-lifetime storm. For decades, it stood as a silent witness to the power of nature. But in 2005, Hurricane Katrina devastated the Mississippi Gulf Coast, and in the wake of that destruction, the storied tug was finally scrapped — closing the chapter on a symbol of survival and storm-battered resilience.

My grandmother, mother, aunts, uncles, and cousins stand in front of the SS Hurricane Camille in 1969.

Here is one from the Early 90's of me, my sister and parents in nearly the same location.  

Another one from the late 90s with me, my sister, mom, and a family friend.  

This one I took in the early 2000's prior to Katrina.  

One taken about 6 months after Katrina.  

Please excuse the flash — this photo of the plaque was taken before Hurricane Katrina.

This was an experimental photo series I shot in the early 2000s, with the idea of developing the film and assembling the images like a puzzle — this was the final result. 

Somber Sky

The Hawaiian sky stands as a silent guardian over the USS Arizona, resting in eternal repose at Pearl Harbor. Sunk during the infamous surprise attack on December 7, 1941, it remains a solemn tomb for 1,177 men. Seeing it in person was a deeply emotional and reflective experience—a powerful reminder of its history and the events that followed. us.

 

 

Vibrant Memorial

The vibrant colors of Hawaii add a poignant contrast to this solemn scene. Here lie the remains of the USS Arizona and the brave men who went down with her during the attack on Pearl Harbor. The radiant sky and lush greenery surrounding the memorial stand as a quiet yet powerful tribute to those who were lost, a reminder of beauty and resilience amidst the weight of history.

 

Also linked to: Sunday Best.

Fortunate Souvenir

 

Some passenger boarded the Titanic for a brief journey from Southampton to Queenstown. Before disembarking, they discreetly tucked this cup and saucer into their bag—a small, forbidden keepsake from their time aboard the "Ship of Dreams."

I can imagine their pride, admiring this beautiful piece of contraband in the days that followed, a tangible reminder of their short voyage on the largest and most luxurious ship of its era.

And then—tragedy.

Suddenly, this stolen memento was no longer just a souvenir. It became a haunting relic, forever linked to one of the most infamous maritime disasters in history.

Now, 113 years later, this once-hidden treasure has transformed into a museum-quality artifact, a centerpiece of a traveling exhibit dedicated to the ship whose fate it narrowly escaped.

SS Selma

Built in Mobile, AL in 1919, the SS Selma was the largest of a unique class of concrete ships. She remained in service for only a few years before striking a jetty in Tampico, Mexico, in 1920. Towed to Galveston for repairs, she was ultimately abandoned in 1922 and allowed to sink just off Pelican Island, about a mile north of Galveston. Today, she remains the only permanent shipwreck in the Houston Ship Channel, a lasting relic of maritime history.