In Memoriam: Josh Hancock, 1978 - 2007

In the first hour of Sunday, April 29, Cardinals relief pitched Josh Hancock died in a car wreck. On a highway leaving downtown, a 28,000 pound flatbed tow tow truck was on the left shoulder, assisting a disabled vehicle. The shoulder was narrow and the truck extended into the traffic lane. Hancock's SUV hit the back of the tow truck. There was no indication that he braked. Hancock was killed instantly.

Later that day, Cardinal fans began to leave expressions of grief and sympathy at the gates of the stadium. Hancock had pitched the afternoon before his death, when the Cubs drubbed the Cardinals 8 to 1. News outlets began to report that Hancock had spent that evening at a steakhouse and bar near the stadium, drinking with friends. The restaurant manager offered to call a taxi, which Hancock declined. It was also reported that three days previously Hancock showed up late for a day game, hung over.

A daily photo blog has an open maw that requires constant feeding. My office is near the stadium so I went there at lunch time yesterday to photograph the scene. I had a cynical attitude: Hancock was probably drunk. On the day Princess Diana died I was in Toronto and remember the mountain of flowers at the gates of the British consulate. At Christmas after 9-11 I was in New York, my home town, walking by the fence of Trinity Church in lower Manhattan, densely woven with individual expressions of grief. At a glance, the balloons and signs at the stadium gate seemed tiny, a bit pathetic, in comparison. As I kept looking and shooting, looking and shooting, I realized that what I saw was just as heartfelt, as genuine an expression of painful emotion. On the walk back to my office, tears welled up in the corners of my eyes.


TOMORROW: Thursday Arch Series

Theme Day: City Exchange

Found your way to a Dublin or Cork blog? No. It's St. Patrick's day in St. Louis. We have an official, sanitized parade downtown on the Saturday before St. Pat's. However, on March 17 itself, there is an anything goes parade in one of our old neighborhoods with the lilting name of Dogtown.

TOMORROW: In Memoriam (change of topic)

Outdoor Sculpture Series: The Billiken

St. Louis University, where I attended college and grad school, has perhaps the weirdest mascot of any educational institution in America, the Billiken. When I was a student, the story going around was that it was originally an early twentieth century novelty doll. People thought the football coach resembled the doll and the name stuck. This is far from certain but the university itself endorses it as a theory. Over the years, it has morphed into a modern cartoon figure. One of the strangest manifestations of our strange mascot it the beat-up, 10 foot tall topiary Billiken standing in front ot the student center on Grand Boulevard.



Even stranger are the Billiken's relations in Japan and Alaska. This has been the subject of scholarly research. A few years ago, my wife and I were checking into a guest house in Kyoto. We took off our shoes, stepped into the foyer and, wham, a Billiken in my face. The owners spoke little English, our group leader was busy with the check-in and I never did get a complete story. What was it? A Japanese good luck charm or a minor Shinto deity? Perhaps the sins of my college days were following me.




My hunt for the meaning of the Billiken became more confused when we were walking down the street in Juneau, Alaska, and stumbled across the Billiken Gift Shop. I was drawn in like a fly to a back yard bug zapper. Contrary to the research cited above, the owner maintained that the figure originated in Japan and was brought to Alaska by Japanese fishermen. He was well aware of the association with SLU. Well, beats me. I didn't write a thesis on the subject. I bought a little 2 inch Alaskan Billiken, wondering what the heck I was going to do with it. It's been in my dresser drawer ever since.

By the way, the SLU campus has been transformed since my day when, honestly, it was kind of a dump (not entirely due to my presence). Now it has beautiful landscaping and many new buildings. In addition, I believe it to be the largest repository of really bad outdoor sculpture in the area. We will return to this one day when I do a series on bad art and architecture in St. Louis.

TOMORROW: City Exchange

Outdoor Sculpture Series: Naked Truth

A tee hee activity for freshmen at my alma mater, St. Louis University, is to take a short ride down Grand Boulevard and confront Naked Truth in Reservoir Park. This is a statue with a story. The three names behind the figure are the editors of the German language St. Louis Westliche Post in the early 20th Century. The statue was bankrolled by Adolphus Busch, founder of the Anheuser-Busch dynasty. There was a big brouhaha about the statue's nudity. Prudes demanded that it be draped. The sculptor, Wilhelm Wandschneider of Berlin, refused. The compromise was to change the material from white marbel to bronze to - I don't know - de-emphasize her boobs or something. For details, click here and scroll down to the section about the statue.

The inescapable comparison is to the actions of Missouri's former attorney general, governor and U. S. Senator, and later United States Attorney General, John Ashcroft. Ashcroft, a noted religious and political conservative, objected to two semi-nude statues called the Spirit of Justice in the great hall of the U.S. Department of Justice in Washington. News reports indicated that he didn't like being photographed in front of bare breasts - even aluminum ones - while making official pronouncements. He ordered the statues to be covered in fabric at a cost of $8,000 to US taxpayers. Ashcroft and the drapes are gone now. Instead, we have Alberto Gonzales. What fun.

By the way, in 2001 I sat behind Ashcroft on a long plane ride home from Portland, Oregon. He was running for president at the time. He was reading US News and World Report and I kept thinking: you say you are qualified to be president of the United States of America - don't you know this stuff already? Doesn't somebody give you a briefing once in a while? His wife was reading an article in Readers Digest called Why You Will Get Your Next Job On the Internet. I had just been to Portland's famous Saturday market, where I bought a bumper sticker that said Friends Don't Let Friends Vote Republican. Should I have gone up to his seat, introduced myself, shaken his hand and quickly placed the sticker on his back? Woulda coulda shoulda.

TOMORROW: The Ugliest Statue In St. Louis

Lime Green Vespa

Yesterday’s teaser for this picture was written in Italian because, well, it’s such a lovely language and there’s a Vespa in the photo. I don’t speak Italian myself. Just some useful tourist phrases. Dove sono i gabinetti, per favore?

I love the glowing color of the motorbike. It is often in this location in Forest Park on weekends when I am out taking pictures although I don't know who owns it. The Vespa sits in front of the pedestal of the statue of St. Louis, opposite the entrance to the art museum. The monument has the grandiose name The Apotheosis of St. Louis. I will have a picture of it here before too long.

By the way, I'm working on some series for upcoming posts, one of which will be outdoor sculpture. And not the heroic-but-stiff statues of old farts. We have some interesting stuff around here. The first one, to be published tomorrow, is the locally-famous Naked Truth. No kidding. That's what it's called.

TOMORROW: Naked Truth

Frosty Treats

On the edge of the street basketball tournament I photographed recently, a superhero peddles sugar bombs to children. Most St. Louisan's idea of a frosty treat comes from a large plant a couple of miles to the south of this location.

Look at the clown's advice in the enlarged picture. Why does Safety Clown want the kiddies to walk around the rear of the truck to cross the street? Wouldn't that make it easier for the driver to back over the tykes where s/he can't see them? Besides, if you were eight years old, would you obey a clown?

So many questions. Inquiring minds want to know.

DOMANI: Come una via in Italia. Quasi.

Thursday Arch Series

The Arch is surrounded by city clutter in so many photographs. Sometimes I shoot it in its landscape but, most of all, I love it against just the sky. An airplane contrail crosses spectral highlights in my lens on a clear day. What does this suggest to you?

TOMORROW: Safety Clown Says...