Webcam Archive

The term for urban renewal in the black community was 'Negro removal.'

This telling quote courtesy William Boone of Clark Atlanta University.

In Georgia this week visiting family, I'm absolutely haunted by the Macon Telegraph's front page before and after pictures of Macon's long-lost, poverty-stricken, African-American community of Tybee.

In the first shot, taken in the 1950s, shacks surround a landmark coal chute.

In the second shot, taken in 2005, the coal chute still stands, but thanks to "urban renewal" the shacks are gone.

In place of the shacks? A billboard encouraging Negroes to celebrate their individualism by drinking Hennessy.

Jesus.

The last 25 minutes were the worst part of the flight. She was crying, kicking, screaming.

But here she is not even one minute after we touched down. Still braking on the runway, her head falls on my lap and she's out cold.

"No she didn't wait until NOW to fall asleep," said the woman seated behind us.

"Oh she knows what she's doing," I said. "She mocks us all."

Daughters defy their daddies.

She finally took to drawing with the pen and paper we'd been offering. Just 5 minutes of respite. They went by so quickly.

Planes and 19-month-olds don't do so well together. This one is lucky she's cute. Consider this a virtual apology to all of our fellow passengers.

Yes, that's my side of the bed. Yes, that's a laptop. Yes, it's 5:00 a.m. Yes, I've been up for quite a while already.

This is what I do.

1:30 a.m. The wee hours of a Sunday morning. I'm completely zonked on the train back to Albany from NYC after a long day of recording with Jed for the Rise and Shine project.

I awake to EVERYONE in the car clearing out. So still half asleep, I rush to get my crap in my pack and bolt off the train after them.

See that first landing? That's where I rhetorically asked the couple ascending the stairs in front of me: "Wait, this isn't Albany, is it?"

They share my look of horror. "Oh no, dude, this is Rhinecliff."

I run back down the steps before they finish. No matter. The train is already headed to Albany. And I'm an hour away. Alone. In the February cold. Outside of a closed Amtrak station. In Rhinecliff. At 1:30 a.m.

Here I am, three weeks later, on the train back to Albany from NYC. We make a brief stop at the Rhinecliff station.

So that's what it looks like in daylight.

This is just a shout out to Heather and A.J. for dragging me to Central
Park to see the Gates the morning after the show.

And yet: can you find even one head in this picture that's turned to face the performer?

Maybe it's like Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark.

"Marion, don't look at it. Shut your eyes, Marion. Don't look at it no matter what happens."

But if that's the case, then why didn't the guy with the camera turn to ash?

(Um, that guy with the camera would be me. This is my webcam after all.)

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