Even in the freezing cold, New Yorkers visit the bronze 9/11 plaque dedicated to the brave firefighters who lost their lives on that dreadful day.

 

 

For whatever nonsensical reasoning I can come up with for explaining my being out in the freezing cold last week; there I was, camera in hand, eyes darting around like a hungry jackal, looking for something to shoot. After an hour or so of meandering around in the cold shooting anything that looked remotely interesting, I came upon the NYFD Memorial Wall. I had photographed there before, but never at sunset, and I was intrigued by the way the sun hit the memorial. This time I was more interested in the small details than the monument itself, I was drawn to the line of flags that flapped in the wind, above the memorial and equally enamored with the line of individual roses tourists and visitors routinely lay at its base.

 In 2001, the usual quiet of an ordinary September morning was shattered when, at 8:46 AM, a passenger airliner, piloted by Islamic extremists, struck the north tower of the World Trade Center bursting into flames and spewing hundreds of gallons of highly flammable fuel into the structure. At 9:03 AM, a second airliner struck the south tower of the World Trade Center. The intense heat of the fuel-fed inferno compromised both structures causing the south tower to collapse in  a mere 56 minutes, at 9:59 AM; sending

thousands panicked New Yorkers frantically running away to avoid being engulfed in a cloud of suffocating dust several stories high; the north tower collapsed 27 minutes later at 10:28 AM. That day, New York faced the most challenging, devastating and harrowing day in its long and illustrious history. According to New York Magazine, in the aftermath of that tragic morning 2,753 persons perished, including 343 NYFD firefighters, 1 volunteer firefighter, 23 NYPD police officers, and 37 Port Authority police officers. There was property damage estimated at more than $20 billion and fires of various sizes and intensities continued to burn for more than three months.

 Witnessing the carnage unfolding before him that fateful morning, Glenn J. Winuk a volunteer firefighter with the Jericho, NY fire Department, a trained EMT, and partner with the 1,200 attorney, law firm of Holland & Knight LLP, ran into the fray. He had to do something; anything to help his fellow New Yorkers; in his desire to save lives and assist those in need, Winuk made the ultimate sacrifice that day. Wishing to commemorate and honor their fallen partner, Holland & Knight through their  Holland & Knight Charitable  Foundation raised over half a million dollars  to honor those who fell that day.

 Unveiled on November 10, 2006, the wall commemorates the 344 NYFD firefighters, who lost their lives on the terrible day in September, 2001. Firefighters, who ran toward the danger to do what they do best, save lives. The solid bronze relief, designed by Budapest born sculptor, Joseph Petrovics, is 6 feet high and 56 feet in length and depicts the tragic events and heroic actions of that day; the relief is also inscribed with the names of the 343 NYFD members who perished that day, as well as a plaque honoring, Holland & Knight LLP partner, Glenn J. Winuk. The die was cast by Bidi-Markky Art Foundry, Brooklyn, NY.  When completed, the 7,000 pound relief was then transported to the city in three sections.

 Since its 2006 unveiling, each year, thousands visit the memorial to lay flowers, honor, and remember the sacrifice made by these heroes. The Plaque functions as a memorial for those perished that day, an acknowledgement of those who serve today and as inspiration to those who will serve in the future.

There is no better way to end this than with the words of Jay Winuk, brother of Glenn Winuk, I think this memorial is nothing short of a statement to the world that in this city and country we value life; we value courage; we value honor; and we honor those who sacrifice for others… we survive adversity and then we flourish.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The thrill of shadow and light and the agony of the missed shot



Enclosed walkway at  NYC Penn Station

 

In the final analysis, this image may just constitute a throw away; but I want to tell the story anyway. There must be some type of work going on at Madison Square Garden, NYC, because there is a walkway enclosure in some areas. Basically it is an enclosure with temporary walls, acrylic windows, and a roof; you know, a walkway, nothing really special except, that light… that wonderful light and, of course, the way the sun hit the enclosure from the perfect angle creating a beautiful array of light and shadow. Being addicted to photography as I am, there; I’ve said it, I’m a photo junkie, I thought it would make an interesting image, and a particularly interesting black and white image; chromatic greyscale, if you insist; but, I also needed a subject in my scene, I needed a person, to add dimension to the image and I needed them quickly. You see, I was on my way to a workshop, at B & H Photo, and did not want to be late. Suddenly, there she was; the woman of my dreams, or at least, the woman of my image; she was standing at an opening in the enclosure smoking a cigarette, and by the looks of it, she really needed it; smoke was swirling back into her face and behind her filtering into the enclosure; and believe me, this woman was in ecstasy, her eyes were rolling around like two runaway marbles racing down a steep hill. Now I had shadow, light, a subject, and, the topper, smoke. No sooner did I set my exposure and framing, two other persons walked through the enclosure, blocking my smoking lady. I politely stepped aside so they could pass; but by then, my muse was gone. Usually, I would have camped out there until another suitable subject presented themselves; however, as I said, I was running late, so regrettably, I had to leave, but not before I made this image. I still like the shadow and light, I still like the scene, but I miss that woman with rolling eyes and a hammerlock on her cigarette.

 Newark Public Library holds a Martin Luther King Jr. Tribute

 

 Even today; the mention of Doctor  Martin Luther King Jr.’s name elicits many emotions in American citizenry; for some, sadness mixed with joy, pride, and remembrance of a seminal period of race relations in our country; for others, an opportunity to finally speak out, in force, against the injustices many of them had witnessed being perpetrated on innocent men women and children; still, for others, the name conjures up feelings of uneasiness, fear, resentment, anger, and sometimes, downright hatred; and, of course, there are those who equate Doctor King’s name and memory with the destruction of American democracy, at least ; their definition of American democracy.

 However; for a moment, let’s forget the historical significance of Dr. King; let’s set aside his status as a social justice paragon; let’s discount those who would describe him as a modern day Moses; lets disregard the notion he was one of the most persuasive and prolific speakers of the 20th Century; let’s ignore he put himself, front and center, in a fight he could easily have avoided; finally, let’s remove his race from the equation. I know; I know, my argument has just lost all credibility; because persons who lose their minds usually lose credibility as well; but ride this horse with me for a few more words while I explain. Though in the overall scheme of things it is hard to separate an iconic ethic symbol from their ethnicity; however, once we peel away the 2 square meters of troublesome, but necessary, skin that covers us all, we cease to see everything through that internal filter through which we invariably view the world. Once that filter is removed, or, at least, disengaged, we can sing along to the 70’s Johnny Nash hit “I can see clearly now”. For then and only then, can we see those important traits; those endearing qualities; those defining characteristics of the person in question that really matter. That is when you can clearly see a person’s ideology, talent, drive, passion, morality, character, and humanity in its true light.

 Doctor King, to some degree, deserves all of the above listed accolades; but I want to look at him as a man; not as a perfect man, not as a flawless man; but, as a man, as an American Citizen; as the epitome of what type of man America is, and always has been capable of producing. Not only was Dr. King a product of the American dream; he was the embodiment of the American dream. Below is a short summary of his accomplishments; and let me remind you he achieved all of this in 39 short years:

·         King was born in 1939

·         At Age 13 he became the youngest assistant manager of a newspaper delivery station for the Atlanta Journal

·         At Age 15 he passed an entrance exam for Morehouse College

·         Graduated Booker T. Washington High School at 16

·         1948 Graduated Morehouse College with a degree in Sociology

·         Elected student body president of Crozer Theological Seminary in Chester, Pennsylvania

·         1951 Graduated Crozer Theological Seminary

·         1954 Became Pastor of Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, Montgomery, Alabama

·         1955 Received his Ph.D. systematic theology, Boston University

·         1955 Led the Montgomery Bus Boycott

·         1957 Co-founded the Southern Christian Leadership Conference

·         1958 Authored Stride toward Freedom: The Montgomery Story; a memoir of the 1955-56 Montgomery Bus Boycott.

·         1958 Narrowly escaped an assassination attempt at a book signing.

·         1963 Gave his now famous “I have a dream” speech, one of the most memorable of the 20^th century, to a quarter of a million attendees of the march and untold millions via television while standing before the Lincoln Memorial.

·         1964 Awarded the Nobel Peace Prize

·         1965 Organized marches that proved instrumental in the passage of Voting Rights Act.

·         1967 He began to speak out against the Vietnam War

·         April 4 1968 King was assassinated

 

 The point is; Dr. King, his life, death and accomplishments are NOT a black American story; his, is an American story. The American Dream is based on the construct that every American can possibly achieve success; not only was his life the consummation, of the American dream; his life is every American’s dream; to see and live life, seize the moment, pursue your dream, maximize your potential, evolve and grow as a person, find a purpose in life, and perhaps most important, make a difference in your world.

 I attended a MLK tribute a few weeks ago at the Newark Public Library. It was fabulous. Among those on stage was Jerome C. Harris Jr. Interim CEO of New Jersey Institute for Social Justice, who acted as Master of Ceremonies; an absolutely fantastic group of singers, The Special Ensemble Youth Choir; they were simply amazing, who said there are no good kids out there? There was a wonderful poet, named Jaleesa McEachin. Lastly, there was the keynote speaker; author, philanthropist, Kevin Powell, who alternately entertained, informed, cajoled, inspired and challenged those in attendance. His presentation was followed by a question /answer segment and book signing by the author. Of course I was there; camera in hand making a nuisance of myself as usual; but, hey; that’s what I do.

Wilma J. Grey, NPL Director was there to welcome the crowd

Master of Ceremonies Jerome C Harris  

The Special Ensemble Youth Choir was simply amazing

The Special Ensemble Youth Choir had people practically dancing in their seats.

Poet, Jaleesa McEachin

The Special Ensemble Youth Choir takes a well-deserved break.

Keynote speaker, Kevin Powell

The attendees thoroughly joyed; and were inspired by, Kevin Powell’s presentation.

Powell implored those in the audience to become the new leaders.

After the presentation, attendees lined up for a book signing & a private chat with the author.

Celeste Bateman and Harriett Cramer; holding down the fort.

 

Breast cancer walk, NJ

Breast cancer walk

A few weeks ago, I photographed the Making Strides against Breast Cancer Walk in Newark, NJ. The event, sponsored by The American Cancer Society, was really inspiring. I watched, and photographed thousands of women who gathered at Newark’s Military Park, who came together to march , in support of finding a cure to breast cancer; reconnect with old friends; support one another ,and to commemorate and celebrate the lives of the thousands of women who have succumb to this dreaded disease. More important, it was not a women’s only event. There were fathers, brothers, uncles, sons, grandfathers, and friends, they were young, they were old; it was a true family affair. There were also people of all races, colors, cultures, and religions marching together to find a cure for a disease that has killed so many.

With all of the unrest over the past few weeks; we are reminded, we are all human beings, we are all mortal, and breast cancer is an equal opportunity killer that does not discriminate, but threatens all. This is truly an instance when, the ancient Indian adage, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend”, is apropos. We should not be fighting one another; we should be fighting against cancer.

New Yorkers; Hanging on the Telephone

 

 

Back in 2011, mall employee, Cathy Marrero flipped, face first, into the mall’s fountain while texting on her smartphone, becoming a media and Internet laughingstock in the process; then, between attempting to sue the mall’s security company, falling prey to journalistic scrutiny, and eventually dropping the lawsuit, she warned against the dangers of being oblivious to your surroundings while texting. Since then, sales of smartphones, the preverbal Swiss army knife of portable technology, have skyrocketed; soaring from 27.5 million units in 2011 to an estimated 41 million in 2014, and smartphone service subscriptions have ballooned to over 320 million.

 It seems we, New Yorkers, are fascinated by and addicted to our smartphones. Our smartphone is the first thing we engage with in the morning; in fact, it’s probably the phone that wakes us. Want to know what time it is; let me check my phone; want to know the weather; let me check my phone; want to remember someone’s birthday; let me check my phone; want to find that hot new art gallery that has SoHo all Abuzz; at the risk of becoming redundant, let me check my phone. Through our smartphones, we tweet; we text; we shop;we connect; we follow; we inform; we do everything except actually speak to one another.

Probably the most interesting facet of smartphone usage is the phone itself is not the most important, or used feature of the product. In fact, an article recently appeared in the Huffington post citing a study conducted by European telecom giant O2, that indicated making and receiving phone calls does not even account for ten percent of total smartphone usage. According to the study, smartphones are used most often for browsing the Internet, checking social media updates and listening to music. Personally, I fall into this category; for me, there is nothing worst than being on the train and having a couple of persons  polluting the air with the inane babble they think passes as conversation; especially when there are multiple persons who cannot sit together; but must sit several seats apart and then shout to one another. In these stressful moments, I simply insert my earphones, initiate iHeartRadio, turn up the volume a bit and tune out the noise, or at least, trade up from an annoying form of noise to a more palatable form of noise. If I have not said it before, I love New York, and New Yorkers they are just so energetic, so accessible so, photogenic which leads me to this week’s blog; New Yorkers, hanging on the telephone; aptly  named after the Blondie song from the group’s hit album Parallel  Lines, a personal favorite.

 We New Yorkers love and embrace our toys; however, before we get all caught up in our technological snobbery, we are not number one when it comes to smartphone usage; that distinction goes to Dallas Texas…go figure.



I’ll have a fish sandwich, some fries, and…oh wait, someone just tweeted me.

                  

 

It's all in the eyes

 

 

Hold on, I just have to update my status.

Oh God, I Can’t even talk on my smartphone, without some guy trying to count my teeth.

I’ll check my email; then I’ll look where I’m going.



No, you can’t borrow my phone; it’s my lifeline.



That girl is going to kill me if I’m late.

 

 

Anytime, anyplace is good for checking Instagram.

The battle of the dueling smartphones

Even the freezing cold cannot keep us from using them; it was so cold on this day, the mirror in my beloved Nikon locked; but many braved the cold to run outside and talk, text or tweet on their smartphones.

Whoever said you actually have to look where your walking?



Hey, I’m going to be on Tim’s blog.



I’ll order it through my smartphone, now and pick it up at the store on the way back, a perfect plan.



Some use their smartphone to actually speak to other people… that’s just so passé.



I may have mentioned this before; but, I LOVE New York.