It’s admittedly a strange photograph to lead with.  It’s empty, it’s bleak, and there is definitely no moment to speak of.  But the space itself is a portrait of a place that bears a certain significance to the story it’s hooked to.  The pile of rubbish marks the exact spot where Lachrica Jefferson’s body was discovered in South Los Angeles in 1988.  

These kinds of stories have become a larger and larger staple of what I’ve been shooting over the past couple of years.  Typically, the main subjects are inaccessible for one reason or another though the publication still requires visuals to supplement the narrative.  Assignments like this can be challenging because the benefit of expression and moment are largely done away with.  Instead, the photographs have to be conceptual, consistent, and anchored to something that may not be readily available upon first inspection. The viewer may (dare I say it) have to do a little reading to get to the meat of the story.

Given the hurdles posed by these kinds of assignments, I suppose they may seem a little less glamorous than the more traditional “front row to history” approach to photojournalism.  It’s not always sexy, not always fast-paced, and isn’t exactly the kind of photography I thought I’d be doing when I started thinking seriously about this endeavor as my career.  

That said, I absolutely love shooting this kind of work.  It’s challenging and requires a bit of visual problem solving that I find really engaging and rewarding.  

Lachrica Jefferson is just one of a string of women who were shot and strangled by a single killer dubbed the Grim Sleeper in South Los Angeles over a 30 year period.  Most of them were tossed out along with the trash within a mile or two of where the alleged killer lived with his wife and children.  After decades without any significant leads, Police were able to tie the killings to Lonnie Franklin, a former sanitation worker and sometimes auto mechanic, by searching for familial links in California’s DNA database.  Familial DNA is a controversial and new forensics technique that allows investigators to search for partial DNA matches rather than direct ones.  In Franklin’s case, investigators found a partial match through his son allowing them to hone in on Franklin.

During the search of Franklin’s home, Police discovered a trove of evidence including a gun matching the one used in the killings and hundreds of Polaroid photographs of women, many of whom were among the list of bodies attributed to the Grim Sleeper.  

Police allege that Franklin preyed on women who frequented the prostitution and crack-addled streets that defined South Los Angeles in the mid-1980s.  Based on the accounts of one of his surviving victims, it is believed Franklin invited his victims into his car before sexually assaulting and killing them in the passenger seat of his orange Pinto.  Most of his known victims were hastily discarded in alleyways, stuffed in bags or covered over with trash just blocks from his home.  Dead women turned up for nearly 30 years until police were finally able to tie Franklin to the killings through DNA evidence.  

From a visual perspective, the challenge posed by this story is that most of the main characters are dead, Franklin is locked in jail waiting for trial, and the actual scientific process of linking a suspect through familial DNA is as visually deserted as the computer screen that runs the match algorithms.   That said, the story had a few building blocks to work with.  First, Franklin had a peculiar obsession with documenting the women he allegedly victimized.  He catalogued pictures he made of them using a Polaroid camera and kept them in his garage.  Second, the killer’s modus operandi for disposing of bodies was relatively unceremonious.  The Grim Sleeper left them in the same alleys that Franklin worked while picking up garbage as a sanitation worker.  

Based on Franklin’s own alleged compulsion to catalogue his victims, I worked with the magazine to develop a similar, parallel concept to catalogue the spaces where he discarded them.  The idea was to use a noir-ish aesthetic to make a large portrait of the places where the killer operated and to showcase exactly how open and flagrant the Grim Sleeper was in disposing of his dead: he simply put them out with the trash.  The resulting layout spanned several pages and included the concept-driven images of the murder scenes interspersed with photographs of some of the key players involved in cracking the case.   

If you’re a TIME subscriber, you can also view the article, here.  It’s a really nice piece written by Terry McCarthy that examines the case by looking at the controversial familial DNA method used to nab the killer.  If you do subscribe, it’s worth the read.

A plane on final approach to LAX flies over South Los Angeles.  The constant stream of air traffic flies day and night over the alleys and streets where the Grim Sleeper’s crimes were perpetrated.

GPS coordinates for the location where Alicia Alexander’s body was dicovered.  Most of the located bodies were dumped in alleys within two miles of Lonnie Franklin’s home in South Los Angeles.  

The intersection where Enietra Margette Washington was dumped after being shot by the Grim Sleeper in 1988.  Washington survived the attack by crawling from the intersection to a friend’s house and waiting for help.  She is one of two women believed to have survived an attack by the Grim Sleeper.

Grafitti marks he exact spot in the alley where Barbara Ware’s body was discovered in 1987.  Police allege that Franklin called 911 himself to report the body being dumped.  The caller explains that someone “threw her out … the only thing that’s hanging out of ‘dis … like he threw a gas tank on top of her and, uh … and, uh only thing you can see out is her feet.”  Ware was discovered sandwhiched among auto parts, brush, and trash.  

A billboard visible from the alley where Barbara Ware’s body was discovered in 1987.  

The Hernandez family plays near the site where Barbara Ware’s body was discovered in 1987.

Murder victims, including those killed by the Grim Sleeper, on a bulletin board in the California Crime Laboratory in Richmond, California.  The lab is home to CAL DNA, a program that tracks DNA profiles of convicted felons.  The lab ultimately linked Franklin to the murders by expanding their search to include close family relations of the killer.  Franklin’s son, who had been arrested for an unrelated felony, scored a hit as a partial match and ultimately led investigators to Franklin himself.

The alley where 18 year-old Alicia Alexander’s body was discovered in September of 1988.  Alexander is thought to be Franklin’s eigth victim, however police are unable to affix a precise count and believe that other victims may be buried along with the city’s trash in one of Los Angeles’ dumps.  Several women in Franklin’s Polaroid collection have yet to be identified or located; Franklin worked as a trash collector in these very same alleys during the 1980s.  

A plane flies over South Los Angeles.  The constant stream of air traffic  from LAX flies day and night over the alleys and streets where the Grim Sleeper’s crimes were perpetrated.

A discarded doll rests among debris in an alley where Debra Jackson’s body was discovered in 1985.  Jackson is the Grim Sleeper’s first known victim; she was shot three times in the chest.  Three years passed in the wake of her murder before ballistics results indicated that a larger string of murders was occurring.  

Lonnie Franklin’s house in South Los Angeles.  Police allege that Franklin is responsible for a string of murders of mostly young women over a thirty year span of time.  Franklin was linked to the crimes through familial DNA, a controversial and new forensics technique that allows investigators to search for partial DNA matches rather than direct ones.  After Franklin’s arrest, police discovered a trove of Polaroid photographs of victims they believe Franklin killed.

Detective Dennis Kilcoyne.  Kilcoyne took on the role of Lead Detective on the Grim Sleeper case and is credited with cracking the investigation after it remained unsolved for decades. 

It's admittedly a strange photograph to lead with.  It's empty, it's bleak, and there is definitely no moment to speak of.  But the space itself is a portrait of a place that bears a certain significance to the story it's hooked to.  The pile of rubbish marks the exact spot where Lachrica Jefferson's body ...