I’m a 20-year-old African-American freelance photographer. My work usually consists of my travels and explorations of cities and abandoned areas as well as the photography I do at my job for Nike.

When I’d gotten word of last week’s demonstrations in Baltimore after 25-year-old Freddie Gray died after suffering injuries while in police custody, I immediately felt the need to be there. I’m not specifically from the city — I’d grown up in the surrounding area — but because my family and I would consistently be there, I consider Baltimore to be a large part of my identity.

I knew I just wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t make myself a part of what Baltimore was going through, so I decided to capture it on camera. Here’s my story and a gallery of my photos:

…

BALTIMORE — I’d been watching the news at work April 27 when I noticed the peaceful demonstrations had taken a violent turn. Suddenly, my TV screen was filled with coverage of the rioting, looting and fighting. I’d seen what happened in Ferguson, Missouri, in the news — but this was different.

This was my city.

So I decided to drive to Baltimore as soon as I got off work.

After clocking out, I went home and quickly packed my Canon camera, two lenses, some water and a knife. I knew strongly I wouldn’t need to use the knife because I was well aware the violence was more directed toward the police. But given the situation I was going into, it was better to be safe than sorry. I left for Baltimore at about 9:45 p.m.

On the way, I started to reconsider whether I should go through with the trip — I was driving alone into what’s now considered one of the most dangerous days of the rioting — but I felt compelled to go in and document everything.

Driving into the city was extremely eerie. Heading north on Interstate 95, I exited where most people would, where you drive past Camden Yards and the Inner Harbor. I didn’t see a single vehicle entering the city, so I turned off my music and rolled down the driver’s-side window.

It was complete silent, except for sirens going off in the distance. No one was on the streets in this part of downtown. When I got to the harbor area, I saw heavy numbers of riot police, positioned in front of The Gallery at HarborPlace. I believe their priority was protecting the stores and restaurants there, as it’s the city’s most popular tourist spot.

I started driving toward West Baltimore, and on my way, I witnessed signs of a riot — people were looting.

After seeing someone throw something to break a Save-A-Lot’s window, I turned around into the store’s lot and parked in a corner farthest away from the grocery store. I walked cautiously toward the looting and saw people running in and out with merchandise. The interior of the store was completely ravaged.

Looted Save-A-Lot

Some of the looters had bandanas to cover their faces, and many were concerned about me taking photos.

I asked one of the looters why he was doing this.

“For Freddie,” he said.

Did you know Freddie Gray personally? I asked him.

He replied: “No, but the city knew him.” He then ran off with his companions, carrying whatever it was they had taken from the store.

Looter

It seemed as though the looters were mainly using Gray’s death as an excuse for personal gain, and initially I felt very upset. But then I thought about the large number of people who are living in extreme poverty in Baltimore. The things they were looting were necessities such as food, drink and toiletries — stuff the average person takes for granted.

An undercover police car drove past, and I used that as a cue for me to leave the scene so I wouldn’t be stuck answering questions — or worse, be accused of looting.

Next I drove past a group of four journalists, who appeared lost. The area we were in was pretty dangerous enough at night without the rioting, so I turned around and asked whether they knew where any hot spots were.

“We’re from The Daily Caller. Are you a journalist, too?” they asked me. I said I was for tonight, and I gave them a ride to the large fire they were trying to locate. Luckily, we caught a break when two police cars raced past us while we were stopped at a red light, so we followed them.

What happened next was pretty surreal, and I can only compare it to what would happen in movies. I sped up — driving between 80 and 90 mph — to catch up while keeping a safe distance so it wasn’t obvious. This went on for about 10 minutes before I lost the police cars because of a red light.

By the time we’d arrived, the fire was almost completely put out, and heavy smoke and dozens of emergency vehicles, including fire trucks, ambulances and police vans, still flooded the streets.

Driving around and waiting for leads next led us to North Fulton Avenue, where two cars that had been doing doughnuts in the intersection had crashed into each other. Rioters had lit them on fire.

Car on fire

I got close to the cars in flames to take some photos — whenever any reporters tried, they had rocks and bottles thrown at them — and I noticed, from the corner of my eye, there was a massive group of riot police up the street with military vehicles and SWAT trucks. I wanted to get closeup shots.

I posted up near a building with outdoor stairs that led underground to a basement. Every now and then, a police car or fire engine would drive past the burning vehicles only to have them struck by rocks and bottles from angry rioters, who had looted two nearby liquor stores.

One time, a person drove a car straight at the riot police as though he or she was going to ram into them. At the last second, the driver whipped the car around and sped back up the street.

Finally, the police were able to push the rioters away from the burning cars by shooting rubber bullets. They surrounded the firefighters to protect them as they put out the fire.

The whole time this was happening, a few residents came out of their homes and began voicing their opinions to the line of officers. One woman, in particular, kept yelling for everyone to “get the f— out of here.”

She would glare at everyone who held a camera, including myself, and shout: “What the f— are you out here for? A paycheck? Get out of here!”

Baltimore riot woman

As soon as they finished and left, two young men threw a couch onto the cars’ remains, squirted gasoline over them and set them on fire again.

I returned to the city that Wednesday and Friday (after they announced six officers would be charged with Gray’s death) with a couple of friends. Saturday night, the last time the curfew was in place, I went alone.

A helicopter dissuaded us from staying too long after curfew Wednesday night. Saturday, the riot police were out in full force after curfew, so I didn’t stay long, either.

Friday evening, however, was interesting. A large group of protesters marched to Baltimore City Hall, where they listened to people speak, in what I think was one of the most powerful and peaceful rallies of the week.

But I started to notice a pattern through each night the curfew was enforced. On Saturday night, an absurdly long line of police vans and cruisers trailed a group of about 50 protesters as the curfew drew closer.

Similarly, riot police started to gather at the edge of the field opposite of the protesters as curfew approached Friday. It made me uneasy.

Baltimore officers and riot police join forces

At about 10:10 p.m., they stopped giving out warnings to go home and stormed the field. They converged on the protesters, and everyone started running. Instead of running with my friends, I hid behind a news van and continued to take pictures.

After reuniting with my friends, we bumped into another group of police, who I felt WANTED to arrest us — and I believe, as horrible as it sounds, if one of my friends hadn’t said the name of an officer he knew whom we had happened to see and speak with earlier, we would’ve been arrested right then and there.

Luckily, though, we got out of the city, safe and sound.