James Douglas

May 10, 2024 | neighbourhoodpaper.com | John Dale |James Douglas |Justine Landis-Hanley

I appeared to be standing in the midst of a mass grave. The endless rows of cold, grey, concrete steles resemble a procession of coffins waiting to be tucked under their national flags.  It was winter, and the melting snow left tear streaks down the sides of their faces. Some stood defiantly upright like sentries awaiting orders; others seem to have succumbed to their fate of being swallowed by the earth.