The Time I Almost Lost Wedding Photos

I’m going to be honest, I NEVER EVER - EVER wanted to share this story NOR planned to, but I’ve realized a few things as the years have passed:

1. Mistakes don’t always mean you are bad at your job… if you learn from them, they actually mean you are better. 

2. I’ve only had two bosses in my life (outside of myself lol. The first one never let me do a task I had messed up while learning. I constantly moved to a different area of work when I would make a mistake until I felt like I failed at everything. My second boss was so the opposite. He taught me that if someone made a mistake, instead of never asking them to do that again, they should be the FIRST person you ask. Because they will be the last person to make that mistake again. He taught us responsibility and learning from our worst moments. 

3. It is important to make sure others in your community do not feel alone in their darkest moments. I had a friend go through a similar situation, and it was great to be there for them. No one should have to be ashamed and alone - I was just really thankful she knew to call me because I had shared this story. 

4.  Its quite the story - ALMOST comical from how horridness it was. Its a party story for sure when people ask me “what's the worst thing that's happened to you?”

Anyways. Shall we? Well, it all started on a Wednesday. I flew into a small city on the East Coast - STOKED to shoot a friend’s wedding. That evening I pulled out my laptop to do a little editing. I took a photo of my cute set up with my laptop and mason jar of water, sitting on an Instagram worthy window seat… little did I know the next 6 hours would be overwhelmingly emotional. Long story short… my laptop never turned on that day. Nor the next day or the next. It had crashed. I was 3 hours from the closest apple store. I felt alone and absolutely powerless (pun intended). My laptop kept restarting and making that sound that apple macs make (OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN. I sometimes still shutter when I hear a mac turn on… no joke. I cried on the phone for an hour to what I thought was apple care… it wasn’t. I almost got scammed because I furiously called the first googled number to “apple care”. LESSON #1 - only contact form the apple website. I Called two friends who actually WORKED at apple for help - they couldn’t do anything. I was using every combination of letters and numbers they use to reboot a mac. My friend who I was planning to stay with after the wedding offered to take me to Best Buy. I knew if I wasn’t going to be able to back up the photos I would take the next few days, I had to make sure my memory cards were reliable. I bought $200 worth of CF and SD cards to hold me for the wedding. I felt smart and prepared. This would NOT affect the weekend or my ability to serve and preform, and it actually didn’t really!

Friday I took my mac to an Apple-certified store. They did an MRI (as I anxiously waited like a mother in a hospital) and was crushed to hear my laptop was beyond repair here; it would need to be sent to apple for sure. I took my invalid mac home and cried a little more. 

That night I photographed an amazing shoot with my friends on a mountain top. We got caught in a major storm on our way down. It was insane rain! I had no idea that would be the least of my woes to tell from the week. 

The next morning I woke up at 5am to shoot my wedding couple’s engagement photos. We drove two hours away and went hiking. It was awesome. We really did have a fun time. I was so thankful they had chosen me to photograph the weekend!

That night I got to photograph another couple in beautiful summer green fields and forests. Despite the crashed mac, I was feeling like the weekend was turning out to be a killer trip. 

Sunday: Wedding Day

That morning I woke up excited. This was a dream wedding. My friend has impeccable taste and had designed her wedding so beautifully. Flower crowns, hoops, barn wedding - I mean, it was going to be beautiful. Who wouldn’t be stoked? I set out to collect all my batteries charging around the house, and then format all my memory cards. I shoot dual-slot (CF - compact flash and SD - Security Digital) I copy raws to both to ensure not even a corrupted card would mean loss of images. This is why I invested in the expensive gear. wanted to be beyond an accident. I never wanted to lose photos. 

So, I put in my first CF card of the day… and it didn’t show up on the camera. I pulled it out, blew in my camera - tried again. “Cannot read CARD 1” popped out again. Lil sweaty-palmed, I tried a new CF card. “Cannot read CARD 1” UHM, excuse me?! I had bought this Canon 5D Mark IV just two months prior. I tried multiple cards and finally looked into my card slot. There was a single bent bar. I could not BELIEVE it. Talk about flimsy… It was essentially a brand new camera.

Well, I thought, “I’ve shot the first few years of my business on a single card system. it's not impossible. I’ve never had a card corrupt before… I mean." I have no choice.” So I formatted all my SD cards, texted my best friends to pray for protection over my cards, and packed up everything. 

The day went off without a hitch. Though rain flirted with us all day, the ceremony was outside as planned, and the sun came through the clouds just in time for sunset portraits. It was a wedding of dreams. I laughed, cried, danced, and enjoyed each moment…. until I didn’t. 

I drove to my friend's house to go to bed. I thought about my cards and how they were the only thing I had since I couldn’t back them up on my computer… I would guard them with MY LIFE. They wouldn’t leave my side through the next couple of days at home. *if you don’t feel a sense of for-shadowing, you should….

Right before I turned off the lights, I thought “I should go through the photos. Just to see them and make sure everything is good”… this isn’t uncommon. I think I can speak for all wedding photographers that we live in paranoia the night of a wedding, we panic that something has gone wrong. I definitely did not think anything really had gone wrong. I put in each memory card to scroll through quickly. I went through all the memory cards

“Wait. Something was missing!?!” I went through it all again (thinking I was just paranoid and tired. It was 11pm after a full wedding day and a long weekend of shoots.) “Something is definitely missing. Where were the wedding party photos? Or their portraits after the ceremony?!” My stomach dropped, panic began to seep in, and my whole body felt cold. I pulled out my memory card cases and frantically scrolled through every single one. My hands shaking, I checked every pocket of my bag- emptying the contents on the floor. I pulled out my phone and texted my friend who had just gone to bed in the room next door. “I can’t find a memory card.” 

She immediately came out of her room. I was shaking and asked if we could drive back. I would drive alone if she couldn’t go because she had work in the morning. We grabbed our phones and a flashlight. I texted the planner and the venue owner as we pulled on our shoes. 

We searched that night for about an hour and a half. The wedding coordinator and the venue owners assured me it would be easier to search and to spot the missing card in the sunlight. My friend drove us back home and made me take a Benadryl to sleep that night. I woke up the next day - feeling worse than I ever had. I pulled on a t-shirt and leggings.. Headed back to the venue. It started raining. I looked that day alone for about 8 hours. Some of my dearest friends, Taylor, Emily, Kyann, and many others stayed on the phone for hours listening to me cry. I was distraught. This had never ever happened to me before, and I was in shock.

The venue owners were absolutely incredible. They came out to pray with me and look with me at different points of the day. My dad comforted me on the phone, helping me walk through that day step by step. Kyann, Matt, Taylor, and Zack were all in Florida together. I think they kept me on facetime for close to four hours just so I could hear conversation not feel totally insane staring at the ground looking for a tiny little black square. I was losing hope. WHERE WAS IT. It physically was sitting somewhere - I felt like I was crazy. I knew where to look, but it wasn’t there. I was walking around fields, gravel roads, reception barn floors, and log cabins porches.

I went home empty-handed and hearted. I was flying out the next morning, early. The only hope I had was that the venue owners would find it while mowing or while walking around getting ready for the wedding that next Saturday. I was in shock and had to start planning how I would tell my friend, the bride. How do you even apologize enough? I knew it was a freak accident - I knew I hadn’t done anything negligent but it was still my fault… I cried at the airport, I cried on the plane, and I cried when my dad picked me up. I texted my mom before take off, “I just can’t believe it's over. I mean I’m leaving. No one is going to look like me. Me leaving is me giving up. I can’t believe I’m getting on this flight.” That's when she told me she wanted to drive me back after I got home. I wasn’t sure if we should, but the fact that my mom was offering to help me look after feeling so alone meant so much. We went straight to the apple store from the airport to get my Mac worked on. That felt like the least of my problems. Apple said there was a high chance they would need to wipe it clean. I praised the Lord for all my back up systems and paranoia that meant I wouldn’t lose anything important. The frustration that my systems had all flopped in the same weekend stung. That night I barely slept, woke up at around 7am and hit the road. My mom drove us 11 hours back to the town. I crunched on ice the whole ride. My wonderful friend let us stay with her and her husband again. As we drove in, we stopped by the venue. I wanted to show my mom the place, the locations we would need to look, etc. We could set up an action plan for the following day. There was an ironically gorgeous sunset that evening.

We woke up pretty early the next day to get a head start. We bought yarn to create a grid over the grass/gravel. We weren’t going to leave wondering if we had looked detailed enough. My dad had packed us knee pads, racks, and gloves. We spent the day on our knees, crawling down rows of grass. We listened to Harry Potter on audio book. We took a break to get Chipotle. My mom’s first chipotle run! It was almost humorous how ridiculous the day was. I couldn’t believe it hadn’t showed up. We were sifting our hands through blades of grass, praying. We scoured the hills. Looked over the same spots over and over and over again. We would walk through that day again and again. I was positive if it had dropped the memory card, it would have been during a card swap I made while standing on a little patio walkway by the ceremony site. BUT nothing was there. We even crawled under the porch to be sure it wasn’t kicked under there or maybe fallen through the cracks above. Everywhere else we looked was just to be sure it didn’t fall out of my bag while I shot for the rest of the day. But the last time I saw it was when i switched memory cards at the spot by the ceremony…

Leaving that day was the worst feeling yet. It took me around 2 hours to finally agree to leave. I kept asking to look again. “One more time.” It was somewhere. It was just going to pop up. I knew it. As we drove away, I felt that sinking feeling again… I was leaving -it would never be found. No one would look like me. No one knew where to look like me. I had walked through the day over a hundred times… I couldn’t look at anyone in the face. I’m not going to lie, this was one of those moments when hearing the words “God knows where it is!” made my blood boil. If He did, why wouldn’t he show us? It was confusing and hard. We packed up the car and left early the next day. I tried to think about telling the bride - it felt unbearable. How do you tell someone you lost their family photos, first kiss, wedding party, and wedding day photos of the two of them? 

No amount of money repairs it, and I knew that. 

So we drove into Nashville and my dad met us there with my car. They were headed on a road trip up north. I said goodbye and drove to Memphis alone. I decided to just put on my jams and sing along. Try to shake the overwhelming sadness. It was a good drive. 

That next day I got my laptop back. It was “fixed”. I write that with quotation marks because it wasn’t actually. I turned it on and that sound of it starting up over and over again started. I was a wreck. I drove back to the apple store, and they did some tests. It would need to be shipped out for another week or two. At this point, I was a week and half-backed up in work. I had no choice but to say yes, but good grief, can I catch break. 

So I know the questions you are burning to ask me through the screen. DID YOU FIND IT?!? HOW DID YOU TELL HER? 

To say that was one of the most unbearable weeks is an understatement. I mean not to be dramatic but yeah. I know its just photos - no one died or anything. There is tragedy far far far FAR worse. I knew that. I still felt wrecked. I was terrified for my business. I was scared to ever shoot a wedding again (I had one the next weekend), I wondered if she would ever forgive me. If it got out that I had lost photos, would people hire me? 

I texted my bride, “When you get home, we need to talk on the phone. Let me know if you can chat Monday evening.” The days blur together now looking back, but at some point in all this, my iPhone broke for no reason. Like I’m not joking. I had to drive to the apple store, and they straight up couldn’t fix it. I had to buy a new phone and everything! 

The whole week felt like a joke. Like a really mean Punk’d episode. “Next week, Tune in to watch A Wedding photograph’s nightmare comes to life! You don’t want to miss it”  My camera had broken, my phone had broken, my laptop had broken, and I had lost wedding photos. When it rains IT freakin POURS. I was not brave enough to tell many people the extent of the week… I looked like a walking ghost. I would just say “laptop crashed - hard week” when someone would run into me in public. 

She texted me back to confirm talking on Monday. They were driving home. 

And a few hours later, I got this text. 

How do I say, uhm “yes, but also maybe no?! And it could be really important, but like also could not be…” 

She calls me. 

I start to explain the freak series of events leading up to that day, and how I wasn’t sure if this card had the missing images. I did not want to get my hopes up. I asked if they had any computer that could read raw images. They put it on their Apple computer… and we waited the longest minute of my life for images to load. 

Y’ALL. IT WAS ALL THE MISSING PHOTOS!

I mean, I bawled.  I hadn’t cried in a few days at that point. I had become so numb and upset. BUT when I say I cried, I CRIED. I sent the text I had wanted to send since day 1. I had my seven best friends on group message. I had prepped the group for when I did find it… I had lost hope though - I didn’t think I would get to send that text. I texted the venue owner as well. She called me in the middle of a wedding in tears. We were all so relieved. It was such a moment. 

Apparently, the best man had seen the memory card (on the patio walkway I had MENTIONED I was convinced it was!!) and he picked it up. He took it to the father of the bride, who put it in his pocket. It was in his pocket for the rest of the wedding day! That night, when dropping off all the presents and decor at the couple's apartment, he remembered the card and put it on their counter. SO when they came home, she noticed the memory card and thought it was mine from when I had stayed with her before the wedding. 

WILD. RIGHT?!

So the story is over, right? FALSE. Freakin false. 

I asked the bride to back up the photos on their computer, and then send it in the mail to my grandparent's house (because my parents were out of town and my apartment mail system is not great.) I texted my grandmother for her address just to be sure I got the zipcode right. I forwarded it to my friend. 

It was shipped! By then I had photographed another wedding successfully with dual memory cards. I was so anxious to get these photos and put this behind me. This would never happen again. 

Every couple of days, my friend or I would check in to find out where the packaged was and when it would arrive. I had a wedding up north I was flying out to in just a few days. Still no package. Well the morning before I left, I replied “no” to her asking if it had arrived. And she said, “That’s weird because it says delivered.”  

I frantically called my grandpa, “are you SURE it isn’t on the porch?” I was racking my brain on what to do. My grandpa was on the phone with the shipping company. And then the most random thought popped in my head, that truly I can only source to the Holy Spirit. I pulled out my phone, scrolled through my texts with my grandma to find where she had sent me her address. I asked her on the phone for her address. The one she had sent me for the package was ONE DIGIT off. The likely hood of this was so low, they’ve lived there since the year I was born. The fact that even I didn’t catch it when that address was the only address in America I knew all of my childhood. SO who had the package? 

Long story short, my grandpa found the house in the neighborhood, but no one was home. We tried calling, but no one picked up. My grandma remembered she knew a friend at church who KNEW the woman who lived there. So we back-channeled all the way to her mobile number. We called her at a funeral. I felt so bad, but she said, “Yes! The little package is on my counter at home. I can give it to you tomorrow!” This was unbelievably relieving. I mean, if we hadn’t found the address, if I hadn’t thought to double-check, that package would have never been found because it had my last name on it, not my grandparent's last name. 

My grandmother picked it up around 5am and came to my apartment to drive me to the airport for my next wedding weekend. It was surreal to finally receive THE PACKAGE. I didn’t dare open it until I was calm, still, and ready to BACK IT ALL UP on a hard drive. 

I clutched that little white padded envelope through security, running to my gate, waiting in line, boarding, and FINALLY after take off, I ripped the top. There I was. All wrapped up in bubble wrap and a Ziploc. I hadn’t touched or seen the images on this memory card since the moment I put it in the camera and took the photos three weeks prior. I backed up every last image. I edited the wedding in a week and delivered the whole wedding to the couple.

AND that my friends, is how I almost lost wedding photos. 

I know that not just my fellow wedding photographers are reading this story. Past, current, and future clients could even be reading. think as photographers. we are often terrified of sharing our mistakes and our freak accidents because it's then public, for anyone to read. Our clients could not trust us or see us and unprofessional.I want to push past that though. In fact, I found out in those weeks that there are MANY stories of similar situations among photographers. I got a few calls and texts from strangers who had been connected to me through some of my close friends. “I went through the same thing two years ago, I know it feels horrible right now. “ and “I had a hard drive crash and lost two weddings. I can help you figure out what to say to your client. It was awful, but I made it through it, and they don’t hate me!” It made me feel so much more normal. I wasn’t a complete failure. I had been photographing for years, and this had never happened. In fact, I had set up back up systems, made keeping up with images habitual, and invested in gear that would have my back, even if one card went missing or corrupted. This was out of my control. And it just happens. And even if that memory card hadn’t been found, I would hope that just like my old boss, my clients would still trust me. That, not to brag, but I have the absolute BEST mom, who was willing to drive 22 hours in two days just to crawl through fields of east coast grass, pinecone needle forests, and gravel roads for me and my clients. That, even though it was a hellish week, I would do it all over again if I thought I had a chance of finding that memory card. I also want to say to my fellow photographers far and wide, if you need support in a time similar to this, reach out. DM me or email me. There is light at the end of the tunnel. I think more of us have been there than we want to admit. I hope you’ve laughed while reading this roller coaster of a story. Its been a couple years, and I laugh even now. 

This is the sunset of the night I finally had ALL the wedding photos backed up on multiple hard drives: