|
 Rick
Falco:
Over the last few days I have worked in a cloud of shock and disbelief,
pale dust and smoke a constant companion. Today was a little different.
One of my assignments was the Memorial Service at St. John the
Divine. The service began with a solemn procession moving slowly
down the aisle in the direction of the alter. As they moved, the
smoke of incense rose into the air climbing toward the vaults
of the cathedral ceiling. Again smoke. My heart froze for a moment.
Enough, I thought. However, in that same instant the voices of
the choir rose up. Beautiful and mighty, the sound surged upward
surpassing the incense and reaching beyond the confines of the
cathedral to something more infinite - more absolute. A momentary
sigh of relief filled me. After watching another kind of smoke
rise from the wreckage of the city, for the first time in days,
I saw good instead of evil. I realized that even the shortest
glimpse of good in times of adversity can plant a seed in which
hope will rise.
|
|
 Tom
Franklin, Staff Photographer, The Record, Bergen County, NJ:
I have never fully aware of the power of photography until I made
this photograph of three New York City Firemen raising the US
flag atop the rubble that was the World Trade Center, I have received
literally thousands of phone calls and hundreds of e-mails, mostly
from strangers. From around the world people have told me how
this photograph has touched them, and that has touched me. Some
have told me about their lost loved ones, others about how they
escaped certain death, and yet others just wanted to tell me how
this one photograph gave them hope and optimism in the wake of
this horrible tragedy. Although it has been hard for me to separate
myself and my sudden notoriety from this picture, it has given
me some comfort to know that in some small way I may have helped
Americans get through this tragedy. And I am hoping that with
the sales of this photo, we can help raise money for victims of
this disaster. And that also speaks to me about the immense power
of photojournalism. Peace.
|
|
|
 Steven
Frischling:
Monday, Sept. 11: I dropped my daughter off at a quiet and safe
day care in Northampton, MA as the first reports of an aircraft
into the World Trade Center came over the radio. Somehow I made
it to the sidewalk beside New York City Hall between 9:10 AM and
11:59 AM. On the radio I heard of the collapse, but as a native
New Yorker it did not sink in at all until I hit the Bronx and saw
a massive plume of smoke, but figured some part of the building
was under the smoke. As I made my way past 220 Broadway I looked
to my right and was just horrified. I saw only a few floors of Tower
2 burning out of control, and under a cloud of dust a leg, nothing
attached to it, just the leg. In the corner of my eye a child's
backpack covered in ash.
The entire drive down I had no idea how bad it could be, and, the
entire drive back on Tuesday, just wondering how it could have been
that bad. Covered in ash and having yet to sleep or bathe I stopped
by my daughter's day care to see her, and, since it was nap time,
just to kiss her and look at her. I am so grateful that the destruction
was not "here," but it still happened in my "home,"
and I am just devastated physically and emotionally. I do not think
I will be sleeping for a while. I think the sounds and the smell
will linger very much longer for me as I block the images from my
mind. |
|
Carmine
Galasso, Staff Photographer, The Record, Bergen County, NJ:
I was horrified and angered on different levels. I'm a New Yorker.
I was watching my city be bombed by terrorists. I felt we were
let down by our intelligence. On a personal level, I had two cousins
unaccounted for and didn't realize they were OK until the next
day.
|
|
|
