New York City
I can't remember exactly what he told me, but my biological father gave me a pink envelope with his address on it and asked me to be sure to let him know when we got to our destination. I took the envelope that my father had given me and put it in my inside coat pocket, trying to be very protective of it. And that night, why, of course, like all kids, we went to sleep. The next morning I woke up and I guess the first thing I thought of was my pink envelope and I reached in my pocket and it was gone. And I was kind of heartbroken, of course. And I asked Leo to get down on the floor and help me look for it and we were looking for it when one of the caretakers came by and asked us what we were doing and told her that we were looking for the envelope. I was afraid to tell her anything else because punishment sometimes was a little severe. And she told me to get up, get in my seat, where I was going I would not need that envelope. |
I had just finished eating and the patron came by and tapped us along the head "Your going to Texas, you're going to Texas." Well some of the kids you know clapped and laughed, but when she came to me I looked up and said "I can't go. I'm not an orphan my mother is still living. She's in the hospital right here in New York." [the patron responded with:] "You're going to Texas, no use arguing." |
Jacob Riis |
"The slum is the measure of civilization." Jacob Riis was a well-known photographer and journalist. He focused his work around the poverty in New York.
His pictures capture what words cannot. |
"When nothing seems to help, I go look at a stone cutter hammering away at his rock |