Sunday, November 23, 2008

The Curious Case of Madeline Cook

(I'll completely understand if you don't read through this entire thing. It's a bit longwinded and doesn't really come to any viable conclusion.)

When it comes to protests and rallies of the sort, San Antonio is not quite high on the list as a hotbead of activity. Sure, groups will gather, chant slogans and march to the Alamo. But it's not a Seattle, or Washington D.C., or even Austin, where there is seemingly a daily protest at the steps of the state capital.

In San Antonio activist groups seem to have trouble finding sheer numbers of people who believe in their cause so much to get them to disrupt their weekend for drive into downtown. So you end up with small to medium sized groups, many consisting largely of anti-establishment types recruited to march. These are the ones that love a good protest, no matter what the cause. Ask them a few good questions about the 'cause' and you'll find they don't know much. But they're out there, ready to exercise their freedom. They get to march through the streets, banging on makeshift bongos, chanting catchy slogans and feeling like they are flirting with the law. They are the ones who yell admonishments about trusting the 'mainstream media' — the same mainstream media they sent press releases to to get coverage of their march. These are the same people who cover their faces with bandanas, as if there is some covert federal operative secretly recording the event for a future bust. They are the ones who, if you ask their name for ID in a caption, they go into a long rant about rights to privacy (yes, the people walking in a group on public streets, carrying signs, yelling through a megaphone at bystanders — they're the ones who want privacy!) Fine, I didn't want your name anyway. Oh, and by the way, nothing says 'poser' more than someone who doesn't want to give their name in support of a cause.

Saturday, I had an opportunity to cover a last-minute march through downtown. The day's topic: the Federal Reserve Bank. They want it abolished.
Cool. More power to them.
They gathered in front of the Federal Reserve, waved signs and chanted slogans before starting their march to the Alamo.
They were a nice bunch. They obeyed traffic signals, came ready with pamphlets to hand out to bystanders.



There was a young lady carrying a large sign who 'looked the part.' I focused on her for a few moments, making her picture as she flashed a peace sign and chanted slogans.
Later, I approached her and asked her name. She was very pleasant and replied rather apologetically "No, I'd rather not. No offense."
I told her that was cool. I understand. She's exercising her rights.
Then she offered she could give me a fake name. I told her we don't make a habit of running fake names, but if she gave me a name there was not really any way I could know if she was lying. We don't make a habit of asking for official identification. We just do our due diligence.
She was about to give me her name when I told her I would use the camera's built-in audio recorder to record her name. She balked. She didn't want her voice being recorded.
So I got out a pen and paper and after a moment of hesitation she offered her name: "Madeline Cook."
Over the years, I've learned little tricks here and there that help me do my job. One of the tricks: when I think someone is giving me a fake name, I'll butcher it when spelling it out to see if they correct me.
So I start "M-A-D-D-A-I-L-L-A-N-E..."
"No," she said, and corrected the spelling. "M-A-D-E-L-I-N-E."
Now I knew. It may not have been hers, but she was giving me a real name.
"I didn't know it was possible to mis-spell a fake name," I said.
"It's my grandmothers name," she said.

So, this young lady is skeptical, or fearful, or believes some sort of conspiracy theory to the point the she doesn't want her name known, or even her voice recorded, but she's ready to offer up her grandmother's name? Does this make sense? Am I overblowing this whole thing? Probably. But it's been weighing on my mind. Why would someone sell their own grandmother out like that?

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Fight Night

The other night, I tagged along with Billy for a fundraiser boxing 'gala' where local politicos duked it out to raise money for...something. Billy was stuck doing the nuts and bolts, daily coverage, so that freed me up to just kind of wander. It was fun.

From photomark


From photomark


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From photomark

Recent Stuff

Recent Stuff:

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From photomark

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Election Night Ramblings

I've covered many elections in my career. They're all the same. Supporters gather at the watch party on election night, mingle and cheer their candidate as they step up to the podium to give their victory/concession speech. This usually occurs just before or at 10 p.m. to afford the news stations their sound bites and live shots.

Election night 2008 was different. My assignment was the AlamObama election watch party. Needless to say, their candidate wasn't going to be making any appearance at El Tropicano Hotel in downtown San Antonio.

As the night progressed supporters filled with anticipation. One state after another was projected won by Obama and the exuberance grew.

Finally, CNN declared Obama winner:

From photomark
The flash never seems to go off when I want it to!

Everyone erupted, just as I expected. Just as they do every election. But this night would be different. The celebrating didn't stop. The outpouring continued as supporters relieved themselves of anticipation, expectation, reservation, shock and surprise. Smiles turned to tears. Jumping turned into dancing:




When I'm shooting events, the analytical part of my brain sort of shuts off as I just concentrate on what's unfolding in front of me. Later, after shooting, I'll make sense of it all.
Again, this night would be different.
As I continued shooting my mind kicked in and I began thinking of just how important this moment was. I thought about race and politics and people's hopes and expectations. I thought about being alive during this time and wondering how it compared to the civil rights movement. I thought about the future of the United States and the path our future president would steer us to. I thougt about how so many people didn't put race first. It wasn't just blacks whose eyes swelled with tears. Everyone knew the importance of this day.

I also thought about the mindset of voters so frustrated with how things are they would choose the unknown over the status quo because it at least brought with it the hope for something better.
The truth is, we don't know how effective our future president will be. But, it seems people unified behind an idea — whether it's right or wrong — can be more beneficial than a correct idea that divides people.
Taking it all in.

As President-elect Obama gave his victory speech, local supporters gathered around several televisions to listen and watch.
This might as well have been Grant Park that night.
The group listened intently, with adoration in their eyes.

One older lady waved back at Obama through the television as he made his appearance.

This man who so many have pinned their hopes on, who seems so much larger than life, was so accessible.


As Obama left the stage, the locals filed out into the streets, heading home amid the blare of car horns ringing throughout downtown. They left with an optimism that had been missing in the past. Confident that with a refreshed mindset, this country can achieve greatness.