Before arriving , Gladstone, or one of his assistants, would contact at least one resident by telephone and tell that person that he was working on research for a book and wanted to meet to talk.

“I’d never say that I wanted to photograph anyone; I’d say that I just wanted to talk to them,” Gladstone said. “If you say you want to photograph them the reaction is, ‘Oh no, I’ll break your camera.’ … So you can’t say you want to come shoot them. You say you want to ask them questions.”

Gladstone and his assistant arrived in each town just before sunset, when the light was perfect for shooting outdoor portraits. Then they scoured the area looking for someone to photograph. If they didn’t find anyone, they called their contact and went from there.

Then, Gladstone and his assistant would wake up early in the morning, shooting more photos of either the same subject or a different subject. Nearly everyone, he said, was willing to be a part of the project once he explained the concept and showed off examples of the quirky photographs.

After the morning shoot, Gladstone and his assistant left for the next town on the list, where they would repeat the routine.

“It was fast,” Gladstone said. “Your head is going like a slot machine on three wheels – look at that guy or there’s nothing here. You have to set yourself in scan mode.”

Gary Gladstone looks on as Doska O. Adkins, squrrel hunter from Big Ugly, W.Va., shows off her hunting rifle.