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THE HOLE Once upon a time on Planet Earth, a Roman satirist and philosopher noted, in a more philosophical than satiric moment, that: “He who does not prevent a crime when he can, encourages it.”
On August 6, 2001, in Crawford Texas, the President of the United States of America was provided with a PRESIDENTIAL DAILY BRIEFING (PDB) titled ” Bin Laden Determined to Strike in US.” We learned later how much (or how little) note was taken by the American President. The photo I have taken, was in
a place where hundreds of thousands of workers, tourists, neighbors and
those in transit, moved daily. Lunchtime brought hundreds outside to dine
in the plaza. Children played on the sculptures. Tourists, singles, couples,
families and gaggle’s of camera toting groups, snapped photos. Readers
caught up on the news, or a couple of chapters in the book of the moment.
Bright warm days brought out sun lovers, heads turned upward. Musicians
played, hoping for some loose change. Languages from A-to-Z were heard,
nothing very extraordinary in any way. Oddly enough, tour busses now stop there, offloading those interested in spectacle: a photo op. They are offered hats, tee-shirts, crystal images and photo albums. The anti-Disney tourist attraction. We are still fragile here. Loud noises give pause. Blackhawk helicopters show up, patrolling rivers and beaches. Fifteen police cars wail by in rehearsal. Machine guns in the subway and train stations are the new normal for us, and the rest of the world as well. A tip of the hat to the man who read MY PET GOAT while the first and second planes crashed into the buildings in NYC, while still others were known to be off course. I will end as I began, with a quote, this one from John Donne: “No man is an island. What happens to one, happens to us all, for we are all made of clay and stardust. We share the same moments of time.” mjnk (Mary Jane Nolan Kelly)
ONCE UPON A TIME, MY MOM…
Morning light The crucifix is hanging This God gave her the strength to love “How am I gonna survive without you Mommy?” Marion Piekarec - France
BEAUTIFULLY IMPERFECT WORLD August 6, 2007 at 8:15 AM, Metro Manila, Philippines. My mornings usually involve getting ready for work - take a shower, brush my teeth, get dressed, go to the office, check emails, work, work, work…and the day goes on. However, when I woke up on this day, I felt this would be a different Monday morning.
Today, I took the time to step out onto the balcony of my studio apartment. I inhaled a breath of fresh air and began to observe my surroundings. My apartment is located on the fourth-floor, therefore, it is no surprise that my view consists of my neighbors’ rooftops, more apartment buildings and the MRT. Jeepneys, one of the means of transportation in the Philippines, jam-packed with passengers. The Jeepneys pass by my street on their usual route, I see someone buying ‘Pan de Sal’ (local bread) from a nearby bakeshop. I see a couple of women chitchatting and giggling. I hear the usual hustle and bustle of the main road. I feel an extraordinary breeze that is somewhere between cool and humid. The sky looks gloomy, as if to welcome another typhoon. I am very glad that I spared a few minutes of my busy Monday morning to appreciate the stunning, panoramic view of the city. At this time, I could not put into words how I truly feel, but I know deep inside, I belong to a beautifully imperfect world. I wish everyone well; For in the grand scheme of things, we are all connected. Jed Quiambao - Metro Manila, Philippines
SEVEN CODES OF THE SAMURAI On August 6, 1945 at 8:15 AM, Takashi Thomas Tanemori was 8 years-old. He was living in the mid-sized Japanese city of Hiroshima. He was the son of a Samurai.
Upon ringing the buzzer to his apartment, visions of what he must be like reeled through my mind. As the door opened, I awaited eye contact and was met instead by a much lower set of eyes, those of Yuki, his white Lab, with Takashi beaming, in tow. We spoke first, about how I had come to find him. He then led me into his apartment down a small-carpeted hallway. We turned a corner and there was a door held ajar with a wooden peg. Piles of white paper, desk lamps, a gargantuan computer…then color, everywhere! Confetti-like color illuminated every dull surface government housing offers. In addition, there was Takashi, a glowing ball of life, sitting upon his handmade quilt. He spoke before I could ask any questions. He began by telling me that he has had a very tough time meeting other survivors. He says; “Many of them are holding onto their pain and are victims in their own lives, which is something I can no longer relate to, personally.” When he speaks of his tale of forgiveness,
his mannerisms at no point hint at his age. He leaped from the bed with
excitement as he told his stories, grappled at the sky, stretched his
arms out wide, and rolled backwards on his bed, kicking his feet in the
air with laughter. When Takashi almost died of a heart attack at the age of forty-eight, he lay in his hospital bed in disbelief of his situation. How was he, a survivor of Hiroshima, going to die of a heart attack at such a young age? As he told me this, that irony shot him back onto his bed, with laughter, he sprung back, clapping his hands, his eyes shut, showing the exact expression that has carved the wrinkles around his eyes. As he refocused on the story of his near death experience, he remembered the promise he made to his father. His first thought being “I can’t die now, I’ve got a lot of work to do.” Once again, he is jolted back in giggles, and I found myself hoping that when he does this in public, he is surrounded by soft things, as he is now. Upon his realization of the true hopes of his father, Mr. Tanemori, he began his path of forgiveness with the writing of his first book, “Hiroshima: Bridge to Forgiveness.” He is currently writing his second book “How to be an Urban Samurai.” As the time of our photo shoot arrived, at exactly 8:15 AM, the phone rang. Takashi’s daughter was calling him to say, “I wanted to phone and tell you that we are thinking of you at this moment, and we send you all of our love,” and he replies, ” Thank you my beautiful Princess, I love you.” Takashi encompasses everything a teacher of the world’s children could aspire to be…he is patient, accepting, rebellious, creative, and a great storyteller. Above all, he inspires those who meet him to let go of all that binds them, and that allows him and his vision of a white crane of trust, to guide them on the rewarding path of a life without hate. Thank you Takashi Thomas Tanemori for being the inspiration that you are. Shayla Dopp
LIFE UNDER THE BRIDGES OF PARIS August 6, 2007 at 8:15 AM in Paris, France. I awoke this dreary Monday morning, still not knowing what my photo would be. I had thought about it for months, but to no avail. At 7:00 AM, I left my apartment and began walking the streets of Paris hoping to find an inspiration, as a light rain began to fall. While I walked, the motto of France; “Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite,” kept running through my mind. “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity” are principals that are dear to every human being on this planet, but are denied to so many, whether they are Black, White, Asian, Indian, American, European, African, Christian, Jewish or Muslim, etc…they have been denied to one group or another throughout the course of human history. How many wars have been fought in the name of religion in the long history of humanity? How many wars have been fought over the belief that one group is more superior to another? How many people have died for the cause of “Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity” or the lack thereof, throughout time? On this rainy morning, I found myself standing on an island in the middle of the Seine River, in the heart of this beautiful city. Standing face to face with the very symbol of my own country’s struggle, for these same principals…The Statue of Liberty, which was a gift to the United States of America from the people of France in 1886, as a gesture of goodwill between our peoples. I sat there at the feet of this incredible model of Peace and Justice, remembering the history of the world. It was frightening to think of the numbers of people who have died in the past 150 years alone, in the name of power and control. In the United States, 618,000 men died during the Civil War, from 1860 to 1865, in order to secure the rights and freedoms we hold dear. During World War II, more than 50 million people died for the cause of freedom, 6 million Jews deliberately murdered, 5 million others slaughtered for the sake of supremacy over humanity. An estimated 80,000 people were killed in a single blast of an Atomic Bomb, designed purely for destruction. Some 60,000 more people perished from its after-effects. However, this was not enough, again, 3 days after Hiroshima, another bomb was dropped on the City of Nagasaki where an additional 73, 884 people were killed in a momentary flash of light, 17,358 more from radiation poisoning…and the list goes on. Is this the cause of “Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity?” Brother fighting brother, country-fighting country, nations killing nations, have we not learned from the lessons of history? Here I sat, at the feet of the beacon of liberty and freedom, and I thought of the poem inscribed at her feet… The New Colossus --Emma Lazarus
Diego is from Germany, born to Spanish parents who left Spain during the fall of the “FRANCO REGIME.” After the war, life was very difficult for Diego’s family in Germany. When he became an adult, he left for France to begin a new life, trying to make a living with what little resources he had at his disposal. Now, some 30 years later, he found himself living under a bridge in the heart of one of the most beautiful cities on earth; his view from his living space…the Statue of Liberty and the Eiffel Tower, on the waterfront near a busy freeway. His life as a homeless person has been hard, being chased from one location to another by the police, to keep him from becoming a nuisance to the population of the city. This quiet and reserved man, who was willing
to sit and chat with me, a complete stranger, seemed to be a respectable
human being in a very bad situation. My heart went out to him. I had stumbled
upon the perfect subject for my photo, living in the shadow of “Lady
Liberty.” “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me; I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
This is the legacy of humanity; “Love thy Neighbor as thy self, for if you do unto one, you do unto mankind.” Ron Modro |
