Categories
Features

Award-Winning Photographer Shares His Adventures While Capturing Animal Species on Camera (Photos)

During the pandemic, when we were denied access to the world and were left only with our personal spaces—our homes, our backyards, at most our neighborhoods—photographer Joel Sartore, recipient of this year’s Indianapolis Prize Jane Alexander Global Wildlife Ambassador Award, found some comfort in the fact that people were finally finding joy in the small things.

Undistracted by big jobs, big journeys, or big plans, people started focusing on their inner lives, their families, and their communities. Some took up gardening, bird-watching, or drawing. They saw the detail, they appreciated the quiet. They seemed to have grasped that the small things in life mattered hugely. For a while, at least, they gave the small things the recognition they deserved.

Mr. Sartore was pleased to see this because, for more than a decade and a half, he had been beating the drum for the tiny creatures we rarely find the time to notice. “I’m the person who captures the insects and amphibians, the mollusks and minnows, and all the other creatures that get no airtime in debates about the catastrophic extinctions that are happening on our planet. I hope my photographs give a voice to the flying, crawling, swimming, walking, wading, breathing beings that live and die unseen and unheard.”

Portrait of Joel Sartore. (Joel Sartore/National Geographic Photo Ark natgeophotoark.org)

A Mammoth Task

In truth, Mr. Sartore, a career photographer who has won the world’s largest prize honoring animal conservation efforts, is in the process of photographing all manner of animals—great and small—for his remarkable National Geographic Photo Ark project. His plan is to eventually document every species in human care—that is, in zoos, sanctuaries, aquariums and the like—as a way of highlighting what we stand to lose if we do not wake up to the damage we are doing to our planet. As of the time of writing, he has documented 14,702 out of an estimated 25,000 in human care, and he has no intention of stopping. “The fact is, we actually don’t know how many species there are,” he said, “but if we do not change our behaviors, there will certainly be far, far fewer by the end of the century.” The Photo Ark is his way of trying to prevent that catastrophe from happening. “We are destroying oceans, prairies, marshes, forests, and in doing so, we are making so many animals extinct. Just wiping them out. We ignore their loss at our peril.”

Mr. Sartore draws an excellent analogy to illustrate his point that every species we drive to extinction brings us one step closer to our own destruction. “Our ecosystem is like a beautifully balanced Jenga tower. Removing even a single piece could destabilize it. And yet here we are, taking out one block after another. If we don’t stop, we’ll reach the tipping point, after which—well, after which, the whole lot will come crashing down, taking us down with it.”

Close Encounters, of the Wild Kind

He started the Photo Ark in 2006, after his wife, Kathy, was diagnosed with breast cancer. Before that, he’d been out in the field almost constantly on assignments for National Geographic, traveling from pole to pole, from sunrise to sunset, in freezing temperatures and baking ones. He has a talent for taking once-seen, never-forgotten images: shots that sear themselves onto the mind and which inspire wonder at the sheer miracle of nature. It’s impossible to grow tired of looking at the spellbinding picture of a golden lion, high in a tree, all aglow against a midnight sky; or a bloodied polar bear, peering through the window of Mr. Sartore’s truck, minutes after having put its face into what remained of a whale carcass. And then there is the extraordinary shot of a grizzly bear, jaws flung wide open in anticipation as a salmon flies straight toward it.

Mr. Sartore photographs Johnny, a serval, at the Lincoln Children’s Zoo in Lincoln, Neb. (Joel Sartore/National Geographic Photo Ark natgeophotoark.org)

In others, it is the interaction between him and the animals that arrests. Butterflies dance on his face, mosquitoes drain his feet of blood, walruses bask alongside him as he snatches a nap. Each one has a story; each one is a story. “Ah, the mosquito one—that was something. It was taken on the North Slope of Alaska, an area renowned for its mosquitoes. I’d been there for a few days, but wasn’t thrilled with anything I’d done, so I took off my shoes and socks and let them at me for about 20 minutes. I can still hear the noise of them—crackling, taking their fill. I scratched my feet raw, but I got one of the most talked-about pictures of my career.”

He’s also been charged by grizzly bears and musk oxen, been pooped on by Marburg virus-carrying fruit bats in Uganda, and survived leishmaniasis, which he developed after being bitten by a parasite-infected sandfly in Bolivia. The infection spread to his lymph system, destroying the flesh on his leg. It took surgery and chemotherapy to help him beat it.

None of this deterred him from shooting out in the wild. It was only his wife’s illness that grounded him, literally and metaphorically. “I wanted to stay home in Nebraska with Kathy,” he said. “Even after she recovered, I decided the time had come to draw a line under my field work. My focus had changed, plus I realized that the big picture—creating compelling images that might encourage people to consider the impact of their actions on wildlife—might be served by the small picture, that is, a portrait of an animal, with captions that told you all about it, and whether it was in danger or not.”

A koala with her babies at the Australia Zoo Wildlife Hospital. (Joel Sartore/National Geographic Photo Ark natgeophotoark.org)

Animal Close-Ups

Each creature is photographed against a stark black or white background, and, whenever possible, looking out at the viewer. Eye contact is key, said Mr. Sartore. “It brings immediacy, it brings intimacy, it brings empathy. I hope it brings understanding and awareness.”

In some cases, people are looking straight into the abyss of extinction. In 2015, he photographed Nabire, a northern white rhino, at Safari Park Dvur Kralove, in the Czech Republic. She died one week later, which means there are now only two of her species—both females—left. Mr. Sartore tries to keep his emotions under control when working, but he admits that photographing Nabire was profoundly moving. “I felt I owed her an apology, on behalf of the human race,” he said.

As such an impassioned animal lover and conservationist, does he feel in any way conflicted or saddened about seeing and photographing animals in zoos? “No, not at all. Zoos and sanctuaries preserve and conserve species, and they aim to educate millions of visitors every year.”

It was on trips to the zoo with his parents as a child that his passion for wildlife began. “Those visits, and the books we read as a family, shaped my path. I remember finding out about the extinction of the passenger pigeon, and feeling so sad that that had been allowed to happen. And yet here we are, all these decades later, still losing species. I hope people will look at all the animals in the [Photo] Ark, from the largest to the tiniest and from the ones we coo over to the ones that we recoil from and realize that they all have their place in the world, and that humankind should do its best to protect them all.”

An endangered Coquerel’s sifaka, a species of lemur. (Joel Sartore/National Geographic Photo Ark natgeophotoark.org)

What We Can Do To Help

If there is one message Joel Sartore would like to communicate, it is that each and every one of us can do something to help preserve our planet’s incredible diversity. Here are five foundational tips he says we can all follow:

1. Consume less. Whether it’s food, clothing, water, or utilities, try to reduce your usage. Buy from thrift stores, swap clothes and books with friends, and shave 30 seconds off the time you spend in the shower. Tiny changes to your daily routine will have a big impact.

2. Think before you eat. Cutting down on meat is good for your own health as well as that of the planet, but try to make informed choices about the rest of your groceries. Many processed food products contain palm oil. Conversion of tropical forests to oil palm plantations devastates plants and animal species and increases human-wildlife conflict as animal populations have their natural habitats destroyed.

3. Flick the switch or unplug your electrical equipment and devices when you’re not using them.

4. Ditch single-use plastic. Always pack your water bottle and coffee cup with you, and avoid products that come in plastic, such as potato chips. Try to save any plastics you have accumulated and take them to a recycling point if your curb-side collection doesn’t include them.

5. Quit pesticides, herbicides, and fertilizers. Plant nectar-bearing plants and milkweed to attract monarch butterflies and other insects. Let parts of your garden go wild. You might be amazed at the creatures that move in.

From Oct. Issue, Volume 3

Categories
Features National Parks The Great Outdoors

From Ashes to Beauty

Nature has always been at the forefront of photographer Colin Tyler Bogucki’s life. Growing up, he and his family lived in Outing—a small town in “Lake Country” in Northern Minnesota. Surrounded by woodland and lakes, he felt it was the perfect place to grow up. “I was outside all the time and always connected to nature,” he said. Swimming, fishing, and hunting were a few of his passions. In 1991, Tyler attended college, studying psychology. After completing his coursework in 1995, he traveled to Alaska for an internship at a counseling center, where he immediately fell in love with the untamed wilderness.

Journey to Alaska

December Sunrise, Eagle River Nature Center, Alaska. (Colin Tyler Bogucki)

Equipped with a Minolta point-and-shoot film camera, he drove all the way to “the last frontier” in his little Toyota pickup truck. Tyler considers that trip as the greatest journey of his life. Struck by the natural beauty and scenery, he was hit with newfound inspiration. Words flew from his pen onto paper, taking the form of elaborate poems. “And I just had to keep pulling over and writing all these lines that were coming to me as I was driving,” he said. Tyler would go on to spend many days capturing the many wonders of wildlife through pictures and poems. “I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want to arrive in Anchorage—I just wanted to keep journeying because it was so inspiring,” he said.

After finishing his internship, Tyler decided to stay as a substance abuse assessment counselor. However, he was far from happy. “It just wasn’t for me,” he said. Outside of work, he would take every opportunity to practice his photography skills. It was not until a few grueling years that he decided to take the plunge and leave his job to work on his art. In 1996, after being gifted his first professional camera for Christmas—a Nikon SLR film camera—Tyler had one of his photos published in the Anchorage Daily News. Even when offered a lucrative career opportunity with the federal probation system in Alaska, Tyler instead chose to follow his heart. “I knew I was walking away from financial stability,” he admitted. “But I could not bring myself to do that work.”

Struggles and Setbacks

Tyler spent the next few years in Minnesota, juggling between bartending and manual labor jobs while honing his photography skills. Finally, in 2007, Tyler moved back to Alaska and found work in a small portrait studio where he learned portrait photography and studio lighting. “I ran that for about five or six years in the little town of Eagle River, which is where I live now,” he said. While Tyler enjoyed the skills and techniques he learned while working at the portrait studio, he primarily sees himself as “a nature and wildlife guy.” After leaving the studio in 2013, he was once again at a crossroads, battling for financial stability. He fought off many moments of regret for not going on to graduate school or seeking what he called a “professional career.” Despite many things seeming hopeless, Tyler was very grateful to be renting a small cabin on two acres of land in the woods of Alaska, located on the end of a road, with a creek running in the back of it. Tyler and his cat, Spike, lived a life that many would only dream of. In the summer, wildflowers and strawberries would grow all around the house. “There was also a deck out back where I could play my guitar and listen to the creek,” he said.

Tyler playing guitar in Akaroa, New Zealand. (Joshua Dean West)

April 22, 2013—Earth Day—Tyler was awoken to smoke alarms screaming. The cabin was on fire. “And I did everything I could. I had a couple of fire extinguishers and I started in the front,” he told me. “I emptied the extinguishers, I threw snow at it from outside. I couldn’t control it.” At some point, Tyler ran out of the back door but then attempted to go back in for his cat, who had gotten into the basement; however, a blast of smoke and heat nearly knocked him over. This was the point when it dawned on him that he would probably not be able to rescue his beloved friend. “I stood there and yelled and yelled for him,” he said, his voice breaking.

He spent the next few hours in his neighbor’s house, who had called the fire department after waking up early and witnessing the horrific event. Tyler explained that where he was living, there were no official firefighters—only volunteers. “So it was more than an hour before they were there spraying; then a tree came down, power lines came down and blocked their path so they couldn’t get near it because of the live power lines,” he said. As the fire got bigger and bigger, Tyler’s hopes became smaller. “I was at my neighbor’s, watching, thinking okay, they get here soon, maybe the house can be salvaged. Okay, maybe not. Maybe my cat can be saved, maybe not.” By the time the firefighters were done battling the fire and smoke, the cabin had been reduced to rubble. Spike had also passed away due to smoke inhalation. This event left Tyler pondering the reasons for such a catastrophe during a time when he was already experiencing so many setbacks. Today, he realizes that he had to go through this to discover his life’s true purpose.

Double rainbow, Eagle River Valley, Alaska. (Colin Tyler Bogucki)

Rising From the Ashes

Tyler always expressed a deep desire to travel and explore the world. He was often approached by friends asking him to accompany them on their photography travels. He would always decline. In 2012—the year before the house fire—a good friend of his from Montana invited him to explore India with him for two months. “I said, man, I’d love to join you but I can’t. I have this house, I have a cat—I can’t leave for two months,” he explained. A year later, after the house fire, Tyler was reminded of his friend’s offer and realized there was no longer anything stopping him. He had kept important documents in a file cabinet, but most of the contents in it had been destroyed in the fire—except for his passport. Firefighters found the document on top of the snow, completely intact. “I didn’t realize how significant of a sign that was until a few weeks later. I called my friend and said, well, you know, if the invite is still open, I want to join you. I want to go to Asia and India with you.”

A Bengal tiger on the trail of a tigress in Bandhavgarh National Park, India. (Colin Tyler Bogucki)

The pair traveled to Thailand and Cambodia before spending a whole month in India photographing tigers in various national parks. Tyler considers his trip to India as an inspiring, transformational journey that allowed him a means to express himself through his photography like never before. In India, they visited four parks and only managed to spot a tiger in their third park. During this time, he found that many people on social media waited eagerly for new updates on his journey. “People were following my story with anticipation. They would learn on Facebook every day and see what happened next,” he said.

The day they had their first encounter with a tiger, Tyler said that he could almost feel it nearby. “It was like I was hunting again, waiting for something. I just had this feeling in my gut that my cat was there with me and that today was the day.” When attempting to locate tigers, one should try to listen out for any warning calls from other animals. Sure enough, the call from a nearby deer confirmed his instincts. “We drove up the road, and there was this giant male Bengal tiger right in front of the jeep,” he said. The pair of friends were ecstatic by their discovery after all their effort. By the time Tyler sat back down in the jeep, he was trembling, and his eyes were watering. “We went all this way for this reason,” he said. Tyler had brought some of his cat’s ashes to India in a little container that he carried with him inside his camera bag. The day after spotting his first tiger, he returned and left his companion’s remains in a watering hole close to where he had spotted the tiger. That same day, either through fate or a stroke of luck, he had a rare encounter with another big cat, this time a leopard.

Spotted leopard in Bandhavgarh National Park, India. (Colin Tyler Bogucki)

Before the fire, Tyler admitted that he never would have thought about traveling around the world, but “life changes really quickly.” After his trip around Asia, he spent a brief amount of time back home in Minnesota before embarking on yet another extended trip to New Zealand. There, he took part in a program designed to connect willing workers with organic farms around the country, in exchange for food and lodging. “Sometimes it’s just a home with very elaborate gardens and landscaping. Others are actual farms or wineries,” said Tyler. He noted that it was a great way to meet locals and other travelers and that none of this would have been possible if it hadn’t been for the fire.

From Hunter to Photographer

After a summer in Valdez, Tyler decided to move to Eagle River Nature Center in Alaska—close to where he had been living before—in October 2014, as a resident volunteer. He has since been living there as a resident staff member and has acquired the position of Assistant Manager. His backyard now consists of the beautiful Chugach State Park with its abundance of wildlife.

Living in Alaska and observing the wondrous wildlife caused Tyler to view animals through a different lens. Hunting with family used to be one of his favorite pastimes; however, through photographing animals, Tyler developed a new admiration for them, and a softer, more compassionate side of him was awoken. Having the opportunity to express himself through various creative outlets played a great role in this transformation. “I had an English composition writing instructor who really inspired me with poetry. And that was in high school. He had a profound influence on me,” he said. Years later, Tyler sent him copies of his poetry, and the pair stayed in touch for a brief period. After the fire, he was pleased to discover that his little book of poems, which he had worked on during his first drive up to Alaska, had remained intact. “I thought they were gone forever,” he said. “I was just so overwhelmed that I was in tears.”

Some of his first wildlife photographs took place in the late ‘90s in the vast natural plains of Alaska, particularly in Denali National Park. He was just starting to learn about composition and lighting—which were all new to him. A significant turning point for Tyler was when he traveled to Katmai National Park and Preserve in 1999 to photograph bears. “I just had a wonderful time because there was beautiful scenery and just bears all around,” he said. He loved photographing those bears and felt very connected to them. “I just gained a great appreciation and respect for them.” To this day, Tyler considers this experience pivotal in helping him establish his passion for wildlife photography. 

Alaskan brown bear looking for salmon in autumn. Eagle River Nature Center/Chugach State Park, Alaska. (Colin Tyler Bogucki)

Photographing wildlife helped Tyler experience a greater connection to nature than ever before. Through collecting pictures, rather than trophies, he began to appreciate nature for what it truly was. By appreciating smaller aspects of the scenery, smaller animals, and even insects, he has developed a keen interest in animal behavior, and his relationship with wildlife has only increased. “I’ve learned to read their body language, and just developed such a different appreciation for the natural world because it’s no longer just a target.” Now, he simply wishes to capture these brief magical encounters with wildlife through his photos, and share them with the rest of the world. What initially started as a hobby has blossomed into a full-time career, a passion, and a goal. “People appreciate what I do and what I share as it brings them joy, inspiration, and a sense of serenity,” he added. For this reason, exploring, creating, and sharing his photography with the world has become a central focus of Tyler’s life; it is in these moments when he truly feels he is accomplishing what he was born to do.

Male Bengal tiger in Bandhavgarh National Park, India. Recognized by National Geographic editors and placed in the Top 10 out of nearly 12,000 images. (Colin Tyler Bogucki)

Tyler’s work has often been recognized in National Geographic, where he won numerous photography competitions over the years. His image of a male Bengal tiger was selected as one of the winning images in National Geographic’s “My Shot” photo contest, out of a total of 12,000 entries. His Northern Lights photography also captured the attention of the United States Postal Service and was featured in one of their commemorative stamp sheets as part of a collaborative arctic climate research project.

Sharing the Magic of Wildlife

With the successful sales of his photography prints, Tyler managed to travel again. He visited Australia for a few weeks, and then Cuba, where he provided photography tours to keen wildlife enthusiasts. This new endeavor brought Tyler newfound joy and inspiration. Traveling to different parts of the world and photographing wildlife had become his passion, so he and a photographer friend decided on creating Nat Expo Tours. According to their website, their mission is to share the amazing natural wonders of the planet while offering photo tips and techniques to touring participants. Future tours are planned to take place in three exotic locations: Iceland, Cuba, and Namibia.

The tours allowed Tyler to look inward and share his knowledge and appreciation of photography with others. “Seeing them grasp the concepts and start to understand things is a great feeling,” he said. Tyler believes the best feeling for him is when people attend the tours and come away with something that they wouldn’t have otherwise captured. “It’s just wonderful.”

Tyler photographing the Fagradalsfjall Volcano in Iceland. (Courtesy of Colin Tyler Bogucki)

Tyler enjoys exploring different creative media to express his art, with videography being his newest venture. In late 2021, he released a mini-documentary featuring the active Fagradalsfjall Volcano near Reykjavik, Iceland, during one of his photo tours. Tyler looks forward to incorporating this new form of storytelling into his art.

Tyler and his cat, Spike, in front of their cabin in 2007. (Michael Gandolfo)

Constantly on the move, traveling from one location to the next and photographing stunning wildlife while meeting people from all cultures and backgrounds, Tyler has established lasting connections with the world around him. Pursuing a career in wildlife photography has led to each day being different from the last.

Through loss and grief, he has discovered adventure. His travels have taught him more about himself and led him into discovering his true purpose in life, and while he often misses his furry companion, he believes that he was liberated from a life of fear and uncertainty to one full of excitement and creativity. “As long as I’m exploring, creating, and sharing, then I feel like I’m where I need to be,” he said. Today, he proudly displays a tattoo of Spike’s paw print on his right shoulder—a tribute to their everlasting friendship.

 

Categories
Features History

Photographing President Eisenhower

On a summer’s day in 1955, the stars aligned for an airman second class at the Lowry Air Force Base in Denver, Colorado. This was just before the days when Camp David became the official presidential retreat, and President Dwight D. Eisenhower used a property near the base known as the “Summer White House.”

Twenty-one-year-old Al Freni was assigned to the president as his official photographer. On August 16, he and several other photographers were shooting Eisenhower (known as Ike) and his grandson, David, as they were recreating on a nearby ranch, owned by one of Ike’s friends, Aksel Neilsen.

Freni took the picture that would kick-start his career. It’s of the pair fishing at a pier, bonding as grandfathers and grandsons do. This picture would be republished in books and magazines and exhibited for decades thereafter.

Freni’s story begins in 1933, when he was the second son born to Italian immigrant parents in the Jackson Heights neighborhood of Queens, New York. His birth name was Alfredo Giuseppe Freni, but several years later, an editor felt it would take up too much space in his publication and, in an Ellis Island-style move, insisted he simply go by Al Freni.

At 10 years old, Freni purchased his first camera, a Clix Deluxe, for $1.79. Soon after, his older cousin purchased a basic darkroom kit for Freni, and he started developing and printing his own pictures in the bathroom and what was the coal bin in his family’s house.

Completely by chance, famed Life magazine photographer Alfred Eisenstaedt lived in an apartment building two blocks from the Freni household. Upon learning this, Freni scraped up a dime to purchase the latest issue, never having heard of Eisenstaedt before.

Freni attended the School of Industrial Art (now the High School of Art and Design) in Manhattan for high school, where he took four photography classes per day and was named “most probable to succeed” upon graduation in 1951.

At this point, the Korean War was on, and Freni was of draftable age. For the next two years, he worked two different jobs but decided to enlist before he was to be drafted. He joined the Air Force in 1953 with the plan of working as a photographer.

The Air Force had a different plan. They trained him as a turret mechanic for B-47 bombers. After nine months of it, Freni had had enough and was seriously considering going AWOL. “I couldn’t stand what I was doing,” Freni said. A fellow airman suggested he speak with the base chaplain. Freni took that advice, and the chaplain, a colonel, pulled some strings. He offered Freni a position working for the weekly Air Force newspaper, called Airmen. Freni jumped at the offer.

As airman first class, Al Freni is pictured after his promotion in 1955. (Courtesy of Al Freni)

The good news was Freni was the No. 2 photographer of a two-man photo department. The bad news was that meant he had to shoot the less-glamorous and more difficult assignments, including climbing up a ladder to the roof of a hangar to photograph the president’s plane upon arrival.

“Then the magical thing happened,” said Freni. “The photographer that was assigned to cover the president in 1954 got his orders. They shipped him out. I graduated to base photographer.”

That meant whenever Eisenhower vacationed at the Summer White House, Freni was the official photographer. “Here I am, not even 22 years old,” said Freni, “and I was assigned to be the presidential photographer.”

The day of golfing, horseback riding, and fishing was a photo-op manufactured by the presidential press secretary at the time, James Hagerty. It was so manufactured that, according to Freni, the White House had live trout trucked in and released into the water to ensure the younger Eisenhower would catch a fish.

While the entire day was manufactured, the moment Freni captured was real. David had walked away from his grandfather, and the other half-dozen photographers there, and stood on the pier alone. Ike walked over and joined him. Freni saw this unfolding but was the only photographer to act. “I saw a picture,” Freni said. He then shot the photo that would bring him his most recognition.

All of Freni’s photographs taken while in the Air Force were shot on a Speed Graphic camera, which he purchased in 1949. It was the camera photojournalists had used for decades. It was big, heavy, cumbersome, and took one sheet of film at a time, so photographers spent a lot of time inserting and removing the frames that held the film. If a flash was needed, individual flashbulbs were inserted before and ejected after each use.

The fishing photo ran on the front page of Airmen, as well as the Rocky Mountain News, a Denver daily newspaper. Eisenhower loved it so much that he requested 40 prints. It took Freni three days, but he made 43 11-by-14-inch prints in the darkroom by hand.

An appointment was set up for Freni and the public information officer, a major, to meet in the president’s office, where Eisenhower would sign one of the prints for Freni to keep. Freni got a haircut, shined his shoes, and put on clean fatigues. When they walked into the room, Eisenhower said, “Come in, Sergeant,” and the major’s face turned white.

Freni believes this was the commander-in-chief’s subtle way of saying to the major, “Promote this guy.” Whether it was intentional or not, the major did, indeed, promote Freni soon afterward.

Ike wrote, “For Alfred Freni, with best wishes, Dwight Eisenhower.”

Thirty-nine years later, the grandson, David, signed the photo, writing, “For Al Freni, who took my favorite picture.”

Freni’s photograph is at the Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library, Museum, and Boyhood Home in Abilene, Kansas, and at the Eisenhower Historical Site in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. It’s been published in one of the titles in the Time-Life series, “The Fabulous Century,” as well as many other books and magazines.

Freni has had a long career as a professional photographer in New York. For many years, he had a combination studio-office-darkroom in the Time-Life Building, seeing Eisenstaedt regularly. As a true New Yorker, he never left his Queens neighborhood and now lives in the building where Eisenstaedt lived. But it’s the fishing picture that Freni remembers most fondly.

He often states how “one two-hundredth of a second” can change a person’s life. That one two-hundredth of a second certainly changed his.

Dave Paone is a Long Island-based reporter and photographer who has won journalism awards for articles, photographs, and headlines. When he’s not writing and photographing, he’s catering to every demand of his cat, Gigi.