Blog #7: Final Workshop Reflection

I would have never imagined I would be writing at this capacity again. Creative Writing was my major in high school. It meant so much to me back then, and thinking back to lower school I always had a love for english. I remember the poetry writings; prose and haiku poems. I didn't know what to expect as far as the extent and the content of our writing assigments, or its significance.
The most difficult writing pieces for me were the descriptive pieces (historical photo and describe a place). These two pieces drove me insane. I felt that there was nothing I could muster up enough creatively for these two projects. It was a total mental block for me coming out the gate, and there were alot of blank staring, brain farts, and agitation putting these two particular pieces together. It takes much mental absorption to embrace the intracacies of writing and I do understand why it is a task for some people to master this skill. What does writing mean to the writer? How does writing make him/her feel when writing, and how does the writer want to capture their readers? Describing a place in 750 words is nothing when an author pens an entire book from the top of their heads.
I always felt that my writing skills were strong and I took great pride and felt good about my writing. I also took great great pride in my handwriting too. Penmanship and writing well was greatly enforced with our english instruction growing up, accompanied by phonics. These are now relic teachings, but I have always taught my children and have instilled in them how important writing is. The difference between a good paper and a great paper is determined by an individual's writing.
My criminal justice professor made a comment about writing in class today, and how important it is to be able to write according to facts and not opinions. Her statement was relative to us as social science students, as our course major requires us to write, debate, and analyze through research. It made sense. The teachings of this class became  useful to me when I needed to create a blog site on WordPress for my final in my criminal justice class. We were asked to pick a theme, select five theme related pictures and write a short story of 250 words for each pic. My professor said that my blog was so awesome, she recommended that I consider continuing to use blogging as a forum for my writing, and she asked if she can use my piece to incorporate on her blog site, citing my authorship, plus she showed it to the students in her other class and they were absolutely blown away at my work.  I attribute it to this class for sure.  I would have never been able to pull it off otherwise. This course opened up a new outlook and approach to writing that helped me in more ways than one.

MY FAVORITE CREATIVE NON-FICTION PIECE

My favorite creative non-fiction piece was the vignette. It is a personal story about my first true love. I've kept every piece of those feelings and experiences of our relationship throughout my life. Writing this piece took me back to one of the most happiest most innocent time of my life. I enjoyed capturing those memories of  our love because it was the most beautiful love I have ever felt. No other relationship has ever compared to it, and unconsciously I guess I've been looking and comparing throughout the years all along. He has and will always forever live in me, but a piece of me has been ripped apart when he was murdered on November 22, 2005. That morning I felt the worst, most sour unexplainable feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I still remeber where I was and what I was doing the moment I felt it. I read about his death in the newspaper later on that morning. This piece is more significant to me than ever, and I'm glad I was given the opportunity to create it to bring my true love back to life. I miss him so much and  will always love him as long as I live and breathe.

Blog #6--Murder at Columbia University

On December 20, 1998, there was a murder that took place on the Columbia University campus in Journalism Hall. A man by the name of Garry Germain, 34, was shot and killed at his security post that night. He was last seen by a fellow officer around 10 pm that evening. Twenty minutes later there was a call stating that an officer was injured. When fellow security officers arrived at the scene, he was laying on his side in a pool of blood facing the staircase. They didn't know exactly where he was injured because the bullet wound was behind his left ear. There appeared to be no sign of a struggle, as the murder was quiet and precise, accoring to the police. The attempt to save his life was slim as he was pronounced dead at St. Luke's Roosevelt hospital. On December 22, 1988 the story of his death was written in the New York times.
Mr. Germaine was originally from Port-au-Prince Haiti and came to the United States as an early teen. He was a married father of three, two daughters and a son. He served in the military from 1974-1976. He was described as an incredible man who took care of his business and his family, as he was an extraordinary father to his children. He and his wife Marlene owned a restaurant called Le Triumphe on Jamaica Avenue in Queens, that she worked in and was in charge of, and he worked at night. He had worked for the VA Hospital for 9 years until the security firm that he worked for folded. His brother, Max had been employed at Columbia Uniersity for six years at the time. And was able to plug him in and pull some strings to get him a job as a campus safety officer. That was the beginning of the end for Garry, as no one would have ever imagined that he would be killed on the job two hours before his shift was over.
His homicide has not been solved and has been officially open for 27 years. His case has passed through the desks of 22 detectives throughout the years. Detective O'Sullivan who was the third detective to take the case, is now 71 years old and retired. There were so many murder cases then, that one minute you were assigned a case, and the next minute you were off. Unsolved cases rose to the 9,000 plus mark. He took a vested  interest in the case personally and professionally, and even after retiring he continued to work closely over the years with the District Attorneys who took on Garry's case. It never went to the Cold case files because of the lack of DNA evidence. There were no surveillance of any kind back then that left nothing for detectives to work with. Someone slipped in and out of the building just like that.....CLICK.BANG.BOUNCE.....Nothing solid has ever surfaced about Garry's murder over the years, but plenty speculation occurred in the very beginning of the investigation. All the theories have never been substantiated, as Garry's brother Max has remained in contact with detectives from the very beginning. After working 46 years as of 2014, Max still works at the café opposite the building his brother was murdered in 27 years ago.
After her husband's murder, Marlene and her children stayed at the home for a little while but Marlene decided to pickup and move her family to Florida. Marlene remained a widow for 11 years. The tragic loss of their son in a car accident in 2005 left her devastated as she mentioned that both Garry and her son Christopher died on Broadway. This would be the very street that took the lives of the two most important men in her life.
As I continued reading the story, I think I vaguely remember this incident. Only because the vicinity which Columbia University is located in is not the safest area to stroll as night starts to fall, especially in the wee hours of the morning. There were several incidents of students being harmed and attacked in the area during that time. This was the era of stick up kids, street beatdowns, and random gunplay. This is a sad ending to a good, decent man's life who did nothing but try to make the American Dream possible for his family. To leave surviving family dangling with no closure or answers after almost 30 years must be the hardest thing to live with when the death of a loved one was was committed by a random act of violence.