"Sometimes you don't find a story," journalist Charles Bethea relayed to me. We were driving down from Atlanta to attend the Hangout music festival in Gulf Shores, Alabama. Press passes in tow, we entered the grounds with hopes of finding a story that would introduce us to the underbelly of the festival.
Charles mentioned it would be interesting to find a festival going drug dealer to follow around, and I agreed. We figured Charles' back brace, (courtesy of an injury from a few days prior) was our best hope for getting approached, that in recognizing a festival attendee in need, a dealer would approach us to offer pills or some other sensory /physical remedy. But that was a spectacular failure. "Sometimes you don't find a story," but sometimes the story comes out of what you don't find.