Some things in life cannot be explained. Or understood.  There are no words.

This morning I uploaded this portrait of  my dear friend, Suzanne, to my album.  I took it  while studying black and white photography at The New School, in New York City. We were teachers at J.H.S. 47, the largest public (then oral) School For The Deaf in the country. We were part of a pioneer team that created a standardized form of Signed English for the school. We used American Sign Language as well, after the traditionalists allowed us to move a section of the school to another building, so we wouldn’t taint the oral program.

Suzanne and I were best friends; this photograph was taken on a grade trip to the Museum of the City Of New York. I still remember. It was in 1977.

The joy of b&w is the developing process and the darkroom work. It brought me back to my childhood; my father used to do his darkroom work in the kitchen. But as an adult, b&w gave me a feeling of total control. I was using my father’s pre-WWII Leica;they don’t make those Zeiss lenses like that anymore, with a light meter. None of this point and shoot. Settings, thought, work, went into photography. And then more work in the darkroom. Chemicals, mixing, measuring, pans. Not to mention the storage and set up. But watching those images come up gave me a high like no other. Or maybe it was the hypo.  At any rate, I love to document moments.  Faces.  Feelings.

And as for Suzanne, she was 40 years old in the summer of 1989, when she worked in a school program. When she was done, she and a fellow marathon runner, hopped a plane to Sydney, Australia for a well earned vacation. They arrived without issue, checked in to the hotel and went out for a walk. It was about 7:00 a.m.

They were standing on a quiet street corner waiting to cross.  A car came down the street, hit a parked  car, and the parked car hit them.

Margaret survived; went through intensive rehabilitation and is back to running marathons–with Suzanne’s sister.

There is no more Suzanne.

reply daisydo wrote on Dec 29, ’07 That is so sad. A life ended much too soon, I am sorry for your loss.

reply vaziry wrote on Jan 26, ’08 I  am very sorry to hear about your loss !!!