You're welcome here, kind stranger...

The Be Good Tanyas' version of "The Lakes of Pontchartrain," a civil war-era folk song, kept ing in my head all weekend. Here I slapped a verse on a photo of a pretty doorbell. It wasn't actually the doorbell to the house of the kind folks who hosted us, but the basic idea (welcoming Southern hospitality) is there. Some of the vignetting happened in-camera, but, again, I used photoshop to make it more prominent.

Our hosts were Patrick (who goes by Patrap), his wife Theresa, and their 15-year-old son, also Patrick. They started off as strangers to us-- Molly's aunt knew them from Weather Underground, where you can read Patrap's tips for hurricane preparedness. They spent 26 months living in a FEMA trailer, so they would know. I was struck by the pride they took in having endured that, in having rebuilt and returned, the pride they took in their city was phenomenal. They welcomed us into their house with open arms, sharing stories, inviting Molly to sing with their son at a coffee shop, and even leaving the key to their house with us when we went out that night!


Here they were playing with their sweetie of a dog while watching the weather on TV. It was Saturday, so everyone (and I mean every single New Orleanian I talked to) was worried about Dolly. (Side note: I've got an entire upcoming post dedicated to photos of their adorable dogs.)




I wanted to show both of the last two photos together because they're very similar, and together they tell a lot. In the first one, Theresa is knocking on her neighbor's door to see if they want to come out with us tonight to a coffee shop where her son is performing. Friendly Southern neighbors, sharing a porch, a backyard, an evening's entertainment. Beautiful.

You can't see Patrap in the second because he was around the corner behind me. "This North wind is really freaking me out," Patrap said, "It was like this right before Katrina." He said it with a mixture of fear and pride and confidence in his knowledge of weather, and here Theresa is standing on her front porch, a social center of deep Southern culture, thinking about the wind direction, and about (then Tropical Storm) Dolly.

Multimedia! From This Tragedy: The Murphys' Story

This was my final project for my Multimedia Journalism class, Jo518. It's kind of a heavy story, so make sure you've got 8 minutes to sit down and pay attention before you hit play.

It was my first time tackling a project like this and I'm really happy with the way it came out. I'd love your feedback.



I owe a big thank-you to Chris Conte, who had access to a fantastic story that he shared with me, and who helped everyone in our class learn to edit using Final Cut. The class was set up such that we captured footage on the same story with a partner, and each edited a separate package. Chris's version of the story is on YouTube.

To Chris and Michelle Murphy, we absolutely couldn't have done this without your help and support in sharing all that you did. Here is The Murphy Sisters Foundation website for anyone interested.

Sports Action & Sports Feature

Sports photos I shot for a weekly assignment in my Portfolio class.

(April 19, 2008-Boston, Mass.)
Sal Daher, 52, from Weston, stretches before a Squash game on Saturday morning at Boston Racquet Club. He joined the club in February of 2002. "This saved my life," he said, "without it I'd weigh 400 pounds."
(Photo by Sarah Beth Glicksteen)

(April 19, 2008-Boston, Mass.)
Johnny Iodice, 27, a trainer at Boston Racquet Club makes a serve during a Squash game against former trainee Jim Fox on Saturday morning.
(Photo by Sarah Beth Glicksteen)

[EDIT: I added two more from this shoot.] I like the shape of Johnny Iodice's legs and the lines on the court in this first one.


This is just a nice moment. John Fox, who you see here, had quite a few years on his former trainer and his shirt was covered in sweat even though Johnny, well, wasn't quite sweating. Fox won the match, though! It's always fun to shoot people who can laugh at themselves, and these guys were great.

If it's merely decorative it's a waste of time.

Albee plays are some of my favorite things to read, and last night I was lucky enough to see one live for the first time. It's only playing for another week, but I very strongly recommend you get student rush tickets to see Three Tall Women at the Lyric Stage of Boston.

I snapped this one as we were leaving. The play was quite an experience, and afterwards I felt a really strong sense of solidarity with the other audience members, especially the women, regardless of age. I think everyone felt it, because when I smiled at people they smiled back.


I also read this quote of his on the wall which I thought was appropriate for my photoblog:

Just Thom.

I live right across the street from the Planned Parenthood in Allston. There are often anti-abortion protesters on the sidewalk outside (not closer than 35 feet to the clinic entrance thanks to last year's buffer zone law), so it often looks like a circus to me. It's not unusual to see people waving signs, flyers and dolls, or shouting at each other on the sidewalk at any given time.

On April 12, though, this guy Thom was balancing on his double-decker bike in front of the place and I just had to grab his photo on my way out the door. At the time I didn't have time to run across the street to get his name, but since it's Allston, I ran into him on the street on up near Twin Donuts on Saturday night and he was friendly enough about chatting with me (though insisted his name was "just Thom".) He seemed excited about the photo, but I doubt he'll remember the name of my blog.