My Atiq Billy, who cannot see this photograph I took of him, yet I believe he will love it just as much as if he could

This is my Atiq Billy, held in the arms of his father Scott Huntsman and reaching out to his mother Emma. I have been slowly, slowly, slowly crawling my way through my Kivgiq pictures and now, after about ten days of initial editing of my five day take I finally reached the point in day 2 where Atiq Billy appears.

In the Iñupiat way, your Atiq is someone with whom you share a name. In the traditional way, Atiqs share not only the same name, but a deep spiritual link. On this night, as the maktak, caribou soup, frozen fish and other Iñupiaq foods, plus spaghetti, were being served and eaten, I came by the table where Billy sat with his parents.

"Your atiq is here," his mother told him.

"Is it Bill Hess?" he responded.

I was amazed. Bill is a common name, even on the Arctic Slope, and all of us Bills are also Billys. I knew this Billy had many Atiq Billys. Furthermore, he is blind and we had never actually met. How did he know of me and how did he know this particular Atiq Bill was me?

His mother explained to me they had attended the November 26 funeral of Eli Solomon and she had told him his Atiq Bill Hess was there, taking pictures. He wanted to meet me, she told me. "Once we tell him who the person is, or when they tell him who they are; he never forgets. He can recognize them by their voice, feel and sometimes the way they walk." That would be the sound of the way they walk. 

"His senses are superb and one of them is his memory." When Emma forgets someone's name, Atiq Billy will ask her to describe the person and tell him where they met him or her. Then he will tell her the person's name. "He is my memory bank," she says.

So, on this night, as he ate his food, we finally met by introduction. We shook hands. I felt something - not just the flesh of my hand in contact with the flesh of his hand, but a connection of spirit. I felt something strong about him. Not one day has since passed without the memory of that meeting asserting itself back into my consciousness. I did not take a picture of him right then, but a little bit later, after the dinner tables had been folded up and the congregation had been reseated in rows and the Kivgiq Singspiration had begun, I came by and said something to his mother.

"Is that my Atiq Bill Hess?" he stated - more as a greeting than a question.

Atiq Billy had recognized me. I took this picture.

Atiq's parents adopted him at birth, not knowing of his blindness. Emma - or UvaNa Iñupiaq - told me his eyes are perfect. "It is the optic nerve that registers from the brain to the eyes that had not fully developed," she explained.

Billy studies in Braille and has been named student of the month at Ipalook Elementary school, where the teachers describe him as "a role model for all students." He goes out duck hunting with his dad and he plays on playground equipment.

He cannot see my photographs, yet when we visited, he seemed to like my photographs, to be proud of them. Although he is blind, I think his mind sees much that many sighted people miss.

I am proud of him - my Atiq Billy.