Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • There is a moment in every protest in the street, when it stops, it stops before the camera eye stops time to capture it.

    The faces come together, the street as if in a dream assembles, as if random human energy moves into one place for just that one-sixtieth of a second.

    We call it an era, a time, an anti-war walk, we call it cops, policemen, shopkeepers, guys, gals, women, men, a movement, we say it was summer in New York City. We say: Chambers Street, July 1970.

    But it was time. Time stopped. And then the camera moved in.

    The camera took my hand and put it to my eye. I was the camera's apprentice.


    (Photo by Susan)
    • Share

    Connected stories:

About

Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.