I then moved through the collapse of Eastern Europe, Ceausescu’s legacy in Romania and on through the brutal realities of child labor in the “City of the Dead” in Cairo, Egypt. I started another phase of my career, looking at religious pilgrimage and devotion around the world before I was devastated and completely overwhelmed with the genocide in Rwanda. Just after this time, I reached overload in my ability to process the amount of suffering that I had witnessed and shifted into a much lighter subject matter, a project that would be called Journeymen. I was the first in countless generations to break away from this tradition. The idea that a son is to follow in the footsteps of ones father. In searching through my family’s documents, I found a small black and white image taken of my grandfather in 1922. He was the first steam train engineer to run the trains from Edinburgh down to London and this one photograph became the inspiration for the entire project. I traveled the world over, photographing these disappearing father son traditions. I made images of the last steam trains in the United States, the last days of the barefoot rickshaw wallah’s in the “City of Joy” in Calcutta, the gaucho’s on the pampas in Argentina and many others.