[Photographer Mike Brodie and a couple friends] were sitting on a couch on the front porch of that punk house (because “in the South, a lot of houses have couches on the porch,” he says). As Scott casually described how a passing train was headed to New Orleans, Brodie made up his mind.
“Probably two weeks after that, I left town by myself,” he says. “I had no idea what I was doing, but I just got on a train and went somewhere.”
He brought a Polaroid Spectra and one pack of film for a three-day trip. He was 17. And that marked the beginning of a yearslong relationship with train-hopping culture and photography.
Trains, Punks, Pictures And Books You Maybe Shouldn’t Read
Photo Credit: Mike Brodie/Twin Palms