Jerusalem - 1978 - Via Dolorosa

Jerusalem, 1978. I was young and living in the Christian Quarter of the Old City - not passing through, but staying, becoming part of the rhythm of the streets. People got to know me. I got to know them.

When Easter arrived, pilgrims came from across the world to walk the Via Dolorosa, carrying crosses through the narrow, crowded passageways of the ancient city. It was loud. It was physical. It was alive.

But what I remember most are the faces - the quiet intensity of people utterly devoted to something larger than themselves. To witness that kind of faith, up close, as a young man with a camera — it demanded humility. And it gave me something I have carried ever since.