On Friday, August 22, former Nightline executive producer Leroy Sievers, 53, died from complications of metastasized colon cancer. I followed his blog almost every day for two years like thousands of others. His wife Laurie has continued it in his honor. One of the common sentiments readers made after hearing about his death was that they cried for a man they had never met, someone who like a gentle giant touched their daily lives with grace and humility. In a tribute to Sievers broadcast online, his oncologist had the courage to expose the human side of being a doctor and honor his patient’s inspiring character.
Two months earlier, on June 25, Randy Pausch passed away of complications from pancreatic cancer. He was 47. Randy touched many with his now-famous speech, The Last Lecture.
Two giants who poured their hearts out with good intention and deepened the dialog of cancer, are gone.
The third and final showing of the Human Condition exhibition landed in suite 212 at the Farmani Gallery in Dumbo. Anne Cameron Lagerberg and Elizabeth Barragan organized a great show. Several photographers whose pieces were included attended the event. Andrew Glickman makes incredible documentary images of Washington, DC commuter train life. I also met James D’Addio, an architectural photographer from Westchester. Dumbo is looking great these days.

A good crowd turned out for the opening of “The Human Condition” at the Farmani Gallery.

Documentary photographer Andrew Glickman flew up from D.C. with his family.

Architectural photographer James D’Addio traveled in from Hastings-on-the Hudson to check out the show.

Next door at Rebar on Front street, a Latin jazz band played late into the night.
Last year I interviewed Ronaldo Brunet at StoryCorps’ Grand Central booth which has since closed. He seemed an easy choice for a first try at the burgeoning oral history organization’s booth which gives the public a convenient way to document individual stories. In talking to Ronaldo I hoped to continue a dialog I had heard many times during late nights in Soho. But when you formalize a conversation, there are certain walls and occasional hesistancy.
At the wake of my friend Greg’s father, Lisa and I talked about recording a conversation with our fathers before they, well…art in heaven and have their names hallowed. It was back in March where we eventually set a date for mid-August. A risky proposition perhaps, to bring our fathers together who had never met and were unclear what this interview idea was all about.
Lisa wanted to cover her father’s days prior to getting married, his time growing up on the lower east side and later joining the police force. Since my father recently retired, I thought I would talk exclusively about his long career at the Staten Island Advance, the daily newspaper. After riding the ferry in together, we took the R train to City Hall, walked to the Foley Square StoryCorps booth and made our interviews. Lisa and her father found their time passed very quickly. My father felt the same and that can only be a good thing when you interview someone. I’m glad I kept it specific to one area of his life. It shaked out to be more of an overview while realizing my job is to dig deeper where the stories emerge, the ones almost forgotten, to pry them from memory. We’ll have to pick it up again.
The five of us had dinner in Little Italy at Il Cortile, then trekked down on foot for the return ferry. Mario, 72, and Joe, 83, welcomed the early evening walk on a humid summer eve.

Mario, Joe, Lisa, and Joel get ready to disembark the Staten Island Ferry in downtown Manhattan.

Mario DiCrocco peers through the O of the StoryCorps window in Foley Square.


(Photo by Lisa Delsante)