#26acts

The photo on the front of the card

Friday I got a voice mail. It was explaining that on December 29, 2012; "because Congress has not acted, my federal extended unemployment benefits will stop."

That small drip from the faucet that has been keeping us afloat, is no longer dripping. When I told my wife sitting across the table about it, the color drained from her face. I retreated inward, trying very hard not to show my anger, frustration, and self-loathing I have had for myself. This was just another night where I thought there was a light at the end of the tunnel coming and I feel like I just got run over by the train that was coming. All of a sudden all the money we have saved, all the sales we found to help Santa deliver an amazing Christmas for our kids seemed like a stupid stupid decision. We felt guilty. We felt stupid.

I was scared. I was uncertain. Not only did unemployment help pay the rent, but it also helped pay Audrey's school tuition. Now all that was up in the air. What was going to happen? My wife was visibly upset. Fighting tears all night and losing that fight a few times. She's been working all that she could possibly work to keep our family treading water in the sea of uncertainty.

In situations like this I have felt that my friends have grown tired of hearing how bad we have it. I often feel like you are growing tired of my ranting and venting on what has been happening. I had no intentions of even writing this post, because people have come forward to try and help where they can. I don't want anyone to feel like their help isn't/wasn't appreciated, because it is. The emails I have gotten from folks. The people who have come back into my life working behind the scenes to make something happen for me and my family. Their efforts are all appreciated and one of the greatest gifts I could have ever asked for.

Saturday morning was a groggy morning. I know Jenn cried herself to sleep and so did I cuddling on the couch with my 10 year old Friday night. Feeling like a failure does that. Whether or not I am a failure means very little when you feel like it. So when I woke up, I hear friends are driving from PA to see us before Christmas. They had a "card from Santa" which, because of their ongoing generosity  over the years, was probably a card from them that we would reject if it had any kind of financial help in it. Our friends shouldn't feel any obligation to help us outside of being friends. I don't ever expect friends to give us financial help and they are simply my friend because they are good people.

When they got here they brought lunch and handed Jenn a card. It simply was a card with Santa in the forest. On the inside it said Merry Christmas. What was inside was completely amazing and when we said, guys we cannot take this, they looked at us and said, "it isn't from us...we had nothing to do with this other than to deliver it". They were just told to drop it off. It wasn't from their parents or family. The card was simply a card from someone anonymous who said to tell us, simply, it was from Santa.

I got up and left the room. My daughters have probably seen me cry once. I fell to the floor in the other room and started sobbing like a baby. Last time that happened I was by my Grandfather's side as he slipped into the other side. I haven't been this overcome with emotion in a long time.

It was an amazing gesture and the second time someone we didn't know came to help when we thought all hope was lost and we were in a corner. My mom has been saying for this entire time, you have to have in Trust Him. She said our way of thinking is changing. It isn't changing, it has changed.

I can't help but think of Ann Curry's 26 acts of kindness campaign. I have been sitting here thinking of various things I could do. Lots of people have given money to people, like paying for coffee for the people in line at the coffee shop, or donating to charity. I have not been able to do those financial gifts. So what was I going to do? I have been giving all the coin change from the stores to the Salvation Army, the only thing I could really do. We give them a smile and a Merry Christmas, but I felt like it was nothing compared to the generosity of what others have shown strangers and, in particular, us.

Watching the news I never thought I would be on the receiving end of an act of kindness like the one shown to us, not just this past Saturday, but since May. That isn't just me trying to be humble, that is a God's honest truth.

I have had some friends grow closer, some grow apart, but I love every single one of them. My way of thinking has changed forever. Life is teaching me to be a better friend, a better brother, a better son, a better husband, and a better father.

To Santa or whoever you enlisted to help you, I say thank you for helping us. I know you didn't do it for public adulation, but I say thank you many times anyway.

I hope the job interview I had this past week turns out well. I will find out the second week of January.

I hope you have a Merry Christmas, because I know this Christmas is unlike anything I have ever experienced. I hope it has been amazing for you too.

Our Saturday Distraction

I was sitting in the band room. My hand folded in my lap, eyes foggy with tears. The band director came into the room, closed the double doors to the room and took his seat on the director's podium. Trying to situate himself in his seat he realized he was up above the class. He moved his seat from the perch and get down to our level.

In the coming 45 minute period we all spoke. Shared our grief. Shared our concerns. Shared our own brush with this kind of violence in our school.

Once we all said our peace, our band director outlined his plan for safety and what he would do should this same tragedy happened in our school.

That was April 21, 1999. I was a senior in high school. It was the day after the Columbine school shooting. That was 13 years ago, and if you asked my 18 year old self then that we would still be having this conversation, I would tell you no way, let alone with a daughter of my own.

So 13 years later I am rushing out the door. My destination was Kent, Ohio where I was invited by a fellow fire photographer to cover a live fire training at an apartment complex marked for demolition. The night before, I asked Audrey if she would like to go. I gave her the timeline and she politely told me she would like to stay home. A 7:30am departure time is early for a kid who likes to sleep in on weekends.

I was just pulling off my street when I got a text saying she would like to go. Had it been any other day I would have kept going, calling her and telling her that she cannot decide once I left to change her mind. She would have to live with her decision and maybe next time she will get up and go. But it wasn't any other day.

I told her she had 5 minutes. I turned around and headed back to the house to pick her up. I was already 10 minutes behind, I am just going to get further behind, but it was important to have my daughter with me today. Thirteen years ago I needed a distraction. I needed something to focus on that was not the news. What better distraction would be to witness an apartment building burn?

Sharing your passions with your children is important. Telling them you really like something and showing them how much you like it is quite another. My dad used to be into martial arts. He found it to be an outlet once he left the military and special forces after Vietnam. He used to be in great shape. When I was growing up I heard all about how much he loved it, but he never showed us. He showed us pictures. He told us stories. Never once did she show us in the flesh how he could break a brick with his hand.

My goal in life was to always be the dad to my daughters that I never had. The guy who was at every thing I could possibly be in. Make it to more things than I missed. Volleyball games, gymnastics recitals, practices, school activities, and being there for her when she needed me. So taking her to a photo shoot that the main subject was smoke, fire, and firemen seemed like a good opportunity to show her how much I loved taking photos of them, and teach her a few things about fire safety.

Up until this point she had never seen anything but a campfire. So seeing a large building catch on fire would be a spectacle. Training burns aren't quick, they are exciting at times, but most of times you are looking at smoke, firemen milling around, and it is usually punctuated with fire.

Between shots I was showing Audrey how I set up shots. How I approached safety. I got over 840 shots from the 4 hours we were there, and in the end, the one I love the most is of her, over looking the fire ground wearing a bunker jacket. If you could see the front, her eyes were wide, jaw on the floor, and it appeared she was enjoying every single moment.

I was proud of her that day. Not because she came, but because she was getting cold, feet were hurting, and smoke was starting to make her second guess her decision to come, but she never complained, always paid attention, and in the end, gave me a huge hug and said thank you.

I am really the one that should be thanking her.

A picture in words

It is 6:30am. I have been awake for an hour and I have been staring at the blinking cursor on the screen. I have had my self-rationed 2 cups of coffee already and contemplating breaking my 2 cup rule. I have gone over and over what I have wanted to write several times in my head. It is right there, right about to come out, and then I lose it. Perhaps I am trying too hard, but perhaps the thoughts I do have just aren't done cooking.

Maybe my mind doesn't want to face the reality that not only our country is about to go over the proverbial fiscal cliff, but so is the family if I cannot get employed and fast. As this roller coaster gets close to the top of the hill, I am not scared. I find a great peace in accepting a fate I have no control over at this point. All I can do is continue to put my hat in the ring of several career paths in hopes that someone will bite. I have a feeling something may break loose; although I have been saying that for months now. 

An extraordinary group of people have started to advocate for me in a few places I never thought to explore before. Not because I asked, but because they offered. They understand that your worth is not the contents of a resume or a punch card of accomplishments. It is the ability to adapt, learn, and teach. Life isn't about what you accomplish, it is about what you leave behind. I have met a lot of rich people who have accomplished a lot and leave behind only money for their next generations. Money does nothing for anyone unless they understand how to use it to their advantage. Like a regular guy winning the lottery, it is easy to go bankrupt and then what did you leave behind?

This summer I have learned more about myself than I can possibly imagine. I learned how humble I must become and how much pride swallowing I had to do when all of a sudden I found myself without a job. I learned that my worth to my wife goes beyond the amount of money I put into the bank. I also learned that I am a terrible housekeeper (this shouldn't be a surprise). But in the end I learned that despite all the bullshit my wife and family has had to endure, we still love one another and would rather go through this all together than apart. 

Life has a funny way of teaching you what is important. I took what I had for granted. This summer, fall, and winter have taught me a lot about myself and even more about my family and friends. We are resilient, we love each other, and no matter what we are in it together and couldn't be happier. 

Here's to a new career and the start of a legacy. 

Subway Controversy

Today the New York Post published a shocking shocking photo on the cover. A man, pushed onto the tracks of a New York subway is attempting to get back onto the platform as a subway train is bearing down on him. The man in the photo was killed by that oncoming train and sparked a controversy.

The photographer, a freelance photographer for the Post, snapped frames of the ordeal. He states he was "attempting to get the driver's attention with his flash" to save the man's life. What is important here is not what the photographer was attempting to do.

He is a photographer for a news gathering organization, his job is to capture news. This photo shows that he was in close proximity to the victim, close enough to maybe lend a hand. Photos can be deceiving when it comes to proximity. Look at some hotel sites in major cities. There are some great photos showing how close to something each hotel is, but in the end, that is not always the case.

But this whole situation sheds light on the role of a photographer. Are they there to help or are they there to take pictures. This photographer is not a first responder. This situation might have happened so fast, the only thing he could do is to throw up his camera and snap a frame. This photo doesn't show how fast that train was moving. This photo doesn't show a realistic view of how close he really was to the victim.

This controversy of photographers is nothing new. Take the photo Kevin Carter shot in Sudan in 1993 for instance. He frames a chilling shot of a starving child being stalked by a vulture. People were critical of Carter for not helping the little girl, but was it his responsibility to do so? His job was there to capture the news. Bring light to a subject often in the dark. He was told not to touch the victims of the famine. The guilt Carter lived with had to be astronomical because three months later Carter committed suicide.

If we are putting the onus on the photographer of this photo to have helped this man, why aren't we putting anything on the crowds of people who were also on that platform? Why aren't we up in arms that other folks didn't jump in and help? If you want to blame a photographer for doing what he saw as the only thing he could do, you also have to blame every single person on that platform at the time for standing there and letting it happen. Why didn't the crowds of people subdue the man who pushed this guy onto the tracks? Because when humans see things that are unbelievable they freeze. They stare at them and sometimes they may never understand what they just saw until it was over. Firemen, paramedics, soldiers, and police officers are trained to run to danger. They are trained to help people; a photographer in the subway waiting to get on a train is not.

This photographer should not be lambasted. This was an unfortunate situation that had a terrible outcome.

I happen to think the photo is a metaphor for America.