A week ago today, I was taping cords to the floor of a Philadelphia Presbyterian church. A couple hours later, I was walking up to heavily worn winter coats, under darkly sooted faces. It was a good day.
It was Help-Portrait day.
Here’s a breakdown:
5AM- Wake up. Cold shower. Cold car.
6:15AM Loud music. Drive to Angelsea Urban‘s (photographer) house.
7AM Load vehicle full of toys, cameras and lighting boxes.
7:30AM Leave WaWa after some much needed coffee/tea fueling.
8:50AM Arrive at New Life Church on the busy Rooosevelt Blvd.
9AM-10AM Set up, chug more coffee, make small talk.
10:05AM First Help-Portrait captured.
10:45AM Second Help-Portrait captured
11:15AM Third..
11:45AM Fourth… This was slow moving.
It was supposed to be a busy day: filled with laughs, loves, hugs, and lots of patients for the amounts of people we were going to be photographing. Instead, we were running out of things to do! I was sitting, watching one team of photographers work. The only people coming in were from the church- we wanted to reach many more people than the few congregants - Something needed to change.
12PM Design a Help-Portrait sign with markers, poster board, and tape.
12:30PM Stand on the street and ask pedestrians if they wanted their pictures taken “for free by a professional photographer!? No strings attached!”
The first one to come in was a man who barely spoke any English. He was from Haiti. He came over “two hours? ..Years? Years” ago. He was so serious when he sat in front of the camera, but he was all smiles once he saw his pictures. We encouraged him to bring over any family he may have in the area. His sister, niece and nephew were over in a matter of minutes for a first time family portrait.
1:30PM Still on the front steps of the church, trying to tell whoever walked, strolled, peddled by that they could get their faces captured beautifully for free! I lost track of how many said they needed to go to the barber first.
A young man with one glove, Schnyder, he told me his name was, was the most hesitant. He didn’t seem to believe me! I gave him the option of just checking it out. He didn’t have to do it, just to look around and see if what I was saying was true. Once he came in, I don’t think he left until we started packing up around 3:30PM.
2:30PM Harold. A tall, tall black man, without his front teeth, but a bike with tennis balls in the spokes. His eyes were piercing and deep-set into his all bone face. I couldn’t even understand his name when he told me- his missing teeth made him hard to understand. I saw him sitting across the street, ripping and wrapping a red t-shirt around his bike’s handle bars. Harmony, Angelsea’s seven-year-old daughter, was on the stoop with me, shouting at the cars driving by for “FREE PHOTOS! GET YOUR FREE PHOTOS!” The most of a response we got were honks, so I knew personal was the only way to go and the only person in my view was a lanky man sitting on a park bench.
I told Harmony to stay on the steps until I got back. Taking a deep breath, looked both ways, crossed two streets and still stayed 50 feet from the slouching man to tell him he could get his photos taken at the church. Once he heard free and donuts, he dropped the red rags and mounted his bike to cross the street with me. Harmony’s face was silent as Harold approached, but she warmed up quick and started telling him about the donuts and coffee and pizza! Oh the pizza had just gotten there, so we were sure some was still left.
As I used my Mad Gab skills to get Harold’s name, I pointed out the snack table and brought him to Gary Cazillo, a photographer of likewise tall proportion. Gary had to get set, so Harold sat down. As Harmony pointed out, food was available so we brought him right to the kitchen. He washed up, downed a couple slices of pizza, cookies and hot chocolate, then was ready for the camera.
Angelsea Urban photographed Harold’s solemn face, as he didn’t want to show his toothless grin but he was smiling after they printed.
I don’t know what happened to Harold after that. He stayed and talked to a few of people at the church, helping them break down, but he slipped out before I had noticed he was leaving. He said he had some family in the area, but didn’t seem to want to share what Help-Portrait was offering when I invited them to join.
Help-Portrait was one day. Our location captured 68 smiling faces. Only 68 of 1.5 million in the city.
I’m already making plans for Help-Portait 2012.
Stephanie M. Schroepfer
