Sean, 47

'It's Not Written'

“I’m from Alamosa, [Colorado], a small town. Dark secret – pretty dark. Has to do with my mom’s side of the family. My grandmother was a high school teacher. Her husband, my grandfather (trails off, makes a grimace). An insurance policy … my grandmother was killed over it. It’s hard to even find it on the computer. [Grandpa] was questioned. It’s hard to talk about. I don’t know exactly how it worked. When I was growing up I was told this, that and the other thing about how she died. And, so, when I started digging a little deeper, recollections started coming back. Know what I mean? Freshman year of high school was very, very, very weird for me because when I went in, put my books down on the desk, that’s where she was shot. It put a wrench in my river, that’s for damn sure.

I came out here for school and graduated in Clearfield. I have a trade diploma, better than any high school diploma or college degree, I think. I know some things about welding. I built electrical grids. I had five different welding jobs I could tell you about. My first job was putting up sprinkler systems in Nebraska for farmers. Everywhere I worked was in Columbus. The best job I ever had was probably working for Behlen Manufacturing. I ran a plasma cutter. With plasma, it’s the fourth state of matter. That means, instead of welding it together, you push the steel apart. I had that job for three and half years. One of the bosses didn’t like me. That’s alright, though.

I was 13 years sober for methamphetamine. When I got to Nebraska, I still held on to that sobriety for 10 years. I fell off in Lincoln – it was after a whole bunch of party nights. I actually owned homes out there. I had money. I lived those lives right there (points to homes across the street). I lived that society right there. I made good enough money each year.

I actually have nine [children], but two of them are stepkids. I haven’t seen them in years. It means my children have been taught their dad is nothing but a methed out monster. Self medication is not the right way to go in the first place.

I have no idea what the future holds for me. It’s not written. Probably this ‘til I die. I don’t mind it.”

Photograph and story documented by Stephen Speckman.