------Or Choose a story from below------
Rio: City of Wonder and Poverty
A Million Needles: Catching the King
I finally arrive at Nassau Street. I see a few taxis parked along the side of the road but they are not in service. I walk along the street in hopes of quickly getting a taxi. Several drive by, all with customers. This makes me even more frustrated. Finally, a taxi stops and I hop in.
“Where to?” the driver asks.
“The South Street Seaport,” I respond. The driver nods.
It feels as if I am home free. We take a quick left turn off the sidewalk and are stopped at a light. About two minutes pass and the light turns green but we are not moving. I sit up in my seat to see what is going on and I see the flashing lights of a police car going through the light. I figure an accident must be holding up traffic. I then see a line of motorcycles following the police car. I am rather confused and I ask the driver what is going on. He tells me he doesn’t know.
The motorcycles keep coming in numbers that would be impossible to estimate. Five more minutes pass and they are still coming. I have never seen anything like this. Why does this have to happen today? I look over at the driver and he is having a good chuckle.
I don’t find it as amusing as him because not only am I in a hurry, but I realize the price meter continues to tick even as we are stopped. We engage in some small talk and finally the motorcycle rally subsides.
We drive for about five minutes along the water and arrive at the seaport. I’m glad that I made the decision to take the taxi because that would have been a long walk. The driver drops me off and I pay and thank him.
I get out of the taxi and cross the street to buy my ticket which is disgustingly overpriced at $30. "It is only a 15-minute ferry ride," I think to myself.
It's already 30 minutes after noon, and the first band is supposed to come on at one. I find my place in line and see other photographers that I made friends with in the previous weeks. I tell them my story of the struggle to get here. They find it pretty amusing.
Walking towards the gate of the ferry just as it starts to sprinkle, I walk quickly towards the ramp that leads to the lower section with a cover, so I can try to stay dry and manage to get a seat below and avoid getting wet for the time being.
The ferry starts up and we are on our way. We pass the Manhattan Bridge on our left and then the Statue of Liberty. This statue was a gift from the French and was dedicated to freedom on October 28, 1886. This marked the centennial of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Frederic Auguste Bartholdi sculpted the statue out of copper. The inner structure was designed by Alexandre Gustave Eiffel, designer of the Eiffel Tower. This statue is one of the most infamous landmarks in the world, as it was the very first thing that immigrants from Europe saw on their journey to the United States.
We finally arrive at Liberty State Park. I walk towards the venue and see a massive line of people still waiting to get in. This confuses me because the gates were supposed to open at noon. I ask one of the people in line why they haven’t opened up the doors, but it appears they are just as confused as I am. I wait in line for a few minutes and make my way to the front of the line wondering if I can come in early because I am press. The girl nods her head and lets me by.
Walking across the massive field and past the three stages, I see numerous people fiercely wrapping up equipment and tying things down that could blow over in the wind. There is a massive storm coming. I walk over to the press tent, set my backpack down and lay on the grass, using my bag as a pillow. It feels so good to relax. Then the rain really starts to come down. The wind gusts strongly making it rain at an angle.
Water starts to pelt me in the face, and I no longer find it relaxing. I sit up just as the first band comes on. I quickly put on my poncho that I brought just in case. I grab a Safeway bag from the press table and wrap up the lip where the lens is attached to my camera body to avoid water entering the inner workings of the camera. I walk to the far stage and into the photo pit and begin shooting as the rain pelts my hood and backpack. I can already see that the plastic bag is going to be a big annoyance in my shooting if the rain doesn’t stop.
The rain continues for a couple of hours but finally stops around four. I am finally able to unwrap my camera and take off my poncho. Now I can start to enjoy myself. Much to my surprise my clothes are very dry underneath. Thank God I bought that poncho.
Osprey - JournAlum - The Lumberjack - KRFH/610 AM - Travel