The idea was elegant in its simplicity. Let’s send out a dozen reporters, editors, photographers and hangers-on to take photos at midnight. It’s kind of a creative way to show Reno a view of itself that it hasn’t seen. Assignments were made and accepted. Phone calls were placed. Babysitters were arranged.
Then someone had the bright idea of including our Facebook fans in the process. “What the heck,” was the logic, “if someone drops the ball, it’d be good to have some extras.”
So, here ya go, Reno. This is you at the Witching Hour.
My friend Stephanie Balicki waits with me at the corner of Virginia and Second streets. I’m taking test shots and checking my light levels when a guy comes up and solicits us to get into his car. We are with our bikes and wearing T-shirts and jeans. There’s no fucking way we look like hookers. Basically, there is a surprising amount of inactivity downtown. We were just poking around looking for someone to take pictures of, and then we had the ultimate moment.
Photo and caption by Audrey Love
Ann Marie Palaroan and Jared Dalen shop at Save Mart on Plumb Lane. The young couple is picking up a few things as they prepare to leave town on a camping trip.
Photo and caption by Daniel Auerbach
Sprinklers water the lawn at the empty Reno Aces Baseball Stadium looking south at midnight. The stadium is seen from the Freight House District, where lively crowds are enjoying drinks and music.
Photo and caption by Megan Berner
Thursday night is a calm night, perfect weather at midnight. Small groups of people pass occasionally, and their laughter competes with the flowing sound of the water. I’m not a night person, but it is so cool that there’s a whole world I’m missing out on just because I need to sleep. This shot was taken on the Sierra Street Bridge looking toward the Virginia Street Bridge.
Photo and caption by Dana Nöllsch
There’s a kind of hush all over the airport at midnight. A worker vacuums the carpets. Since stores and restaurants are closed, the few travelers sit reading or pace. Two TSA workers sit in a closed McDonald’s (chairs on the tables) talking in the dark. A lone chauffeur, name placard in hand, waits for a flight to arrive. Car rental clerks chat or catch up on paperwork. It feels like there should be some slow, mournful jazz playing.
Photo and caption by Dennis Myers
Stephanie Petersen sinks into an Awful Awful—the Biggest Little City’s most notorious hamburger—at The Nugget on Virginia Street. At midnight, the place is jam-packed, as usual, with hungry meat-lovers hunched over with their burgers at the little diner’s long counter. Petersen and a couple of her friends have decided to sit in the casino area of The Nugget for a roomier taste of the Reno classic.
Photo and caption by Kat Kerlin
The Gold-N-Silver Inn is an old-school Reno eatery. The appeal of the place lies less in the quality of the cuisine than in the authenticity of the atmosphere. It’s a real <i>Nighthawks at the Diner</i> joint. It always feels like a perpetual aftermath, like the setting for a scene in a movie after the climax. The midnight clientele reflects this—cowboys after the rodeo, glum couples after a big fight, and rock bands after a show. I show up at 11:56, and after floundering around for a minute or two, decide to document the moment of midnight with a shot of one of The Gold-N-Silver’s many clocks. With seconds to spare, I ask two nearby patrons, Hailey Leavens and Jessica Olsson, to be in the shot, and they are immediately game.
Photo and caption by Brad Bynum
Midnight, outside The Knitting Factory, this guy, Ronnie Nigra, just got kicked out of the Kut-Pile show for having too much fun in the mosh pit. His face is actually a little cleaned up here. Never a dull moment in Reno.
Photo and caption by Jenn McConnell
The population at 911 Parr Boulevard is hovering at about 1,050 souls, said Sgt. Don Gil, who’s in charge of the night time shift at the jail. While the days at the jail are busier, with people moving to courts and work and counseling, the nights have their own rhythms. “Every day has its poison, depending on what the courts are doing and other factors,” he said. In this photo, Jesse Razo, left, and Chris Bailie work at midnight in the jail’s laundry. Working in the laundry is an unpaid privilege, with prisoners getting a little more freedom within the facility. Still, privileges can be abused, and sometimes the laundry is where small amounts of contraband are exchanged.
Photo and caption by D. Brian Burghart
John West, a social worker who helps ex-prisoners return to society, works out at Sports West Athletic Club at midnight after he gets off work. He enjoys the late-night lifting because most of the machines and weights are unoccupied. His logic is good, since there is only one other person in the gym when the clock strikes 12—and <i>he</i> soon heads for the locker room.
Photo and caption by Joy Souza
Mark just cleared the pre-midnight rush. Moments before, the North Virginia 7-Eleven was populated by college students refilling beer supplies and men sporting “Got weed?” shirts. But now, when the clock hits midnight, Mark is all alone in the fluorescent glass box. He lines products behind the shelf and sorts through labels for the taquitos. Outside, people filter past the convenience store attracted by the loud music coming from the Little Waldorf Saloon’s college night. Inside the only things moving are the dual rotating hotdog and Slurpee machines. So Mark steps out for a cigarette.
Photo and caption by Clint Demeritt