Editor’s Note: none of the events referred to in this commentary happened at Kirtland.
Silence befell the dorm, a place that was never quiet. OSI agents were carefully processing the room before permitting me to document. Shaolin the DVD was at its menu screen, the music from the motion picture eerily playing on repeat the whole time I was in the room. The smell of multivitamins, Glade Hawaiian breeze plug-ins and vomit were all mixing in the air. The room and atmosphere became cold and lifeless. The sink was covered in emptied sleeping aid capsules, a blender bottle over filled with a concoction of vitamins and other pills. The agents left the room for me to work without disruption but there was one person that didn't leave. It was the young Airman laying stiff on the bed, with a bag over his head with vomit crusted around his mouth, neck and chest. This was my first alert photography call for a suicide. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be my last.