[b]
New Member
My first thought was that there had been a shooting at the mall by my apartment. Or maybe even a bank robbery. Whatever it was it was big news.
Just the day before, my photography teacher and I were talking about what we were allowed and not allowed to take pictures of. We also discussed what to do in situations controlled by the police.
So, as I turn on the road to my apartment I can see that the cop cars are on converging on the spot of the area's largest arcade. At this point I am pretty excited. Whatever is happening, I am going to be the first one there and I am going to document it.
I park, jump out of my car, and start snapping pictures. I get pictures of an ambulance coming in and then leaving, lights on, siren off. I get cops directing traffic, huddled in groups talking, and a dozen police cars with lights flashing...and the whole time I am still excited.
I venture in as close as I can. The cops, while shooing other people away, seem to be ignoring me. I feel like an honest to goodness photojournalist, and, as I'm leaving, I see the staff photographer and reporter for our local paper just arriving. I am proud that I have shots they will never get a chance too. I scooped them even if the scoop was just for me.
When I return home I excitedly tell my roommates what transpired and cannot wait to get the film developed to see if my pictures came out.
I found out that last night, a police officer was killed while investigating a home invasion robbery. His assailant ambushed him, he never had a chance to defend himself. He was shot three times in his vest and once in the back of his head.
The scene I arrived at was where, after being pursued at high speed, the suspect, a recently released convict, had been shot at by police officers. He surrendered and was not wounded.
I have mixed feelings about all of this. On one hand, I am very excited about the pictures I took. I was there and I did what photographers are supposed to do. I documented the scene. I took pictures of what was happening. I photographed the faces of those around me, onlookers who did not know what was going on but were just as curious as I was.
People turned to me and asked if I knew what was going on, simply because I had a camera and was out there taking pictures.
Pictures I have not developed yet.
You see, I feel slightly guilty. Last night I felt important, I was excited, I was doing what I have wanted to do almost my whole life. But it was at the expense of one man's life and another man's freedom.
I did not cause, nor want, either of these events to happen. I made myself a bystander and by taking those pictures, made myself a part of the night's activities.
I am sorry you were killed last night Sgt. Green. Thank you for protecting the lives of the women in that home. May someone protect your family with that same sense of duty and same selfless act of sacrifice.
You touched so many lives that night. You brought home many things for me that I never truly understood before. You have also helped me to understand that the excitement is a part of job, and that the job is what is important. Your sacrifice has helped me take one more step down my life's path and I appreciate that.
Just the day before, my photography teacher and I were talking about what we were allowed and not allowed to take pictures of. We also discussed what to do in situations controlled by the police.
So, as I turn on the road to my apartment I can see that the cop cars are on converging on the spot of the area's largest arcade. At this point I am pretty excited. Whatever is happening, I am going to be the first one there and I am going to document it.
I park, jump out of my car, and start snapping pictures. I get pictures of an ambulance coming in and then leaving, lights on, siren off. I get cops directing traffic, huddled in groups talking, and a dozen police cars with lights flashing...and the whole time I am still excited.
I venture in as close as I can. The cops, while shooing other people away, seem to be ignoring me. I feel like an honest to goodness photojournalist, and, as I'm leaving, I see the staff photographer and reporter for our local paper just arriving. I am proud that I have shots they will never get a chance too. I scooped them even if the scoop was just for me.
When I return home I excitedly tell my roommates what transpired and cannot wait to get the film developed to see if my pictures came out.
I found out that last night, a police officer was killed while investigating a home invasion robbery. His assailant ambushed him, he never had a chance to defend himself. He was shot three times in his vest and once in the back of his head.
The scene I arrived at was where, after being pursued at high speed, the suspect, a recently released convict, had been shot at by police officers. He surrendered and was not wounded.
I have mixed feelings about all of this. On one hand, I am very excited about the pictures I took. I was there and I did what photographers are supposed to do. I documented the scene. I took pictures of what was happening. I photographed the faces of those around me, onlookers who did not know what was going on but were just as curious as I was.
People turned to me and asked if I knew what was going on, simply because I had a camera and was out there taking pictures.
Pictures I have not developed yet.
You see, I feel slightly guilty. Last night I felt important, I was excited, I was doing what I have wanted to do almost my whole life. But it was at the expense of one man's life and another man's freedom.
I did not cause, nor want, either of these events to happen. I made myself a bystander and by taking those pictures, made myself a part of the night's activities.
I am sorry you were killed last night Sgt. Green. Thank you for protecting the lives of the women in that home. May someone protect your family with that same sense of duty and same selfless act of sacrifice.
You touched so many lives that night. You brought home many things for me that I never truly understood before. You have also helped me to understand that the excitement is a part of job, and that the job is what is important. Your sacrifice has helped me take one more step down my life's path and I appreciate that.