Silent Surveilence

Posted on by Thor

There is some sensitive content and disturbing details included within. If you feel you may be affected, please do not read this post.

Today I witnessed the most shocking evidence in the Noor Salman trial. The prosecutors displayed the Pulse Nightclub surveillance videos for June 12, 2016 starting around 2:02 AM. People could be seen partying and dancing near the bar with large blue Japanese lanterns decorating the ceiling. Then Omar Mateen was highlighted as he walked into the room. I have been in that room partying with actors in the past. I am familiar with the tightly packed space. The surveillance video was silent. For the next seven minutes we watched as Mateen ruthlessly gunned down everyone in the room. People dropped to the floor. We watched as he walked the room, pacing back and forth, shooting prone victims multiple times. Bodies writhed from the impact. At times I wondered if they were still alive or just the impact of the bullets was causing their limbs to react. One person, unable to get up, ran in place as he lay on his side. It was like a horrific nightmare, wanting to escape, but unable to move. Another lay face down on the stage. People lay stacked together on the floor near the bar. Each time someone moved, I prayed that they would not be shot next. One person lay silent on the patio. The time code displayed minute by minute the carnage in utter silence along with a Computer Graphic map of the club that tracked Omar’s movements..

Omar stopped to reload and then began shooting helpless people at close range again. The surveillance camera switched to the front entry where police entered the club. I couldn’t draw. I was numb. I hadn’t expected to witness the mass murder first hand. What was seen cannot be unseen. A police body cam showed police lifting a woman who was shot in the leg into a pick up truck. She screamed in agony. The sound of wind whipped the microphone as she moaned and then they had to remove her, and then her screams were even worse and more ear piercing. Those sounds sceams bear down deep into your soul.

The footage switched to a helicopter night vision view of the club from above. The white forms of police could be seen in the dark field at the back of the club. A charge was set and detonated then police could be seen using a manual battering ram to further open the breach in the wall near the bathrooms. Gunfire flashed and the operator shouted, “Shots fired!” Two police dragged a body through the grass towards the street leaving behind a subtle heat trail on the ground.

39 bodies lay dead on the floor and FBI agents and police both noted
the constant ringing of cell phones that filled the room. Two others were dragged across the street behind Einstein Bagels where they were pronounced dead. The remaining
victims were pronounced dead at Orlando Regional Medical Center.
That means 8 people died on route or at the Medical Center. The Medical Center claims that every person who was alive when they
arrived at the ER survived, but that is an optimistic PR white washing of the
grim reality of the triage.

Walking the streets of Downtown Orlando after leaving court, the ceaseless activity seemed annoyed, impatient, and hurried. A block north, under the I-4 overpass, multiple police cars were flashing their lights due to some extensive police activity. I kept walking. Was this life as usual? What is the new normal in Orlando?

49 crosses.

Posted on by Thor

After the horrific massacre at Pulse Nightclub, 49 crosses were placed at Lake Beauty of the Orlando Regional Medical Center where victims were taken in the moments after the shooting. The medical center is just a few blocks north of Pulse on Orange Avenue. Never has an emergency room been so close to the scene of a mass murder. Despite the best efforts of the ER doctors working under triage conditions, 49 lives were lost. The rifle used had only one purpose which is to take human life with brutal force. These 49 crosses became a place of pilgrimage for a community trying to find reason behind an insane and pointless act of hate and violence. Other countries look at America’s love affair with gun violence with shock and amazement.

An Illinois man,  Greg Zanis, 65, traveled more than 1,000 miles from his home in Illinois to Orlando, Florida, in the wake of the massacre.  His pickup drove to Orlando with the 49 handmade crosses, one for each of the victims that died. Zanis also brought markers so that people could write messages on the crosses. Every surface is covered in writing.

The crosses are now stored at the Orlando Regional History Center off site facility. The warehouse is home to the museum’s vast historical collection which are not currently on exhibit in the downtown museum. I was sworn to secrecy about the off site location and the route was purposefully convoluted with a myriad of pretzel turns and back road circles.  Upon entering the facility, Frank Weber, the County Photographer, shouted out, “No food or drink!” as he pointed to a sign with the same message. Museum staff gathered in the break room to finish their Starbucks coffees. My coffee had a taste of caramel. I’m beginning to understand the allure of living off of coffee alone. Frank had an admirably inappropriate sense of humor that helped lighten the atmosphere. To enter the warehouse we had to walk across a sticky mat which removed any dirt or insect eggs from the soles of our feet.

The conserved crosses were each stored in grey archival boxes, specially made for them with clear fronts so the crosses can be seen. The memorial items left at each cross are stored in separate boxes right above the corresponding crosses, which were stacked several shelves high. Colorful items collected from memorials and vigils were stacked everywhere. Over five thousand items are still being preserved, and catalogued. It is a Herculean and thankless task being executed with love by the History Center staff.  The crosses will be on display in June as part of the one year vigil to honor victims, their families, survivors, and first responders. It seems like only yesterday when this horrific event shocked and saddened Orlando. The wounds are still very visible if you look.

Staff removed crosses from their boxes and stood them clustered near Frank, who shot a three quarter view of each cross, front and back. Large industrial flashes created clean shots which will be used for an online database of the collection. After each cross was photographed, it was moved near the loading dock, so they will be ready to go on public display in June. These wooden crosses are heavy and lifting 49 of them tests muscles. I found it odd that a historic rifle storage cabinet was right beside Frank as he shot the photos. Staff and Frank wore blue conservator’s gloves to be sure not to get body oils onto the painted surfaces of the crosses. These gloves ripped at times and had to be replaced. The warehouse was reminiscent of the final scene in Indiana Jones when the arc of the covenant was stored away. However, in Orlando the memories of those lost to senseless violence is being kept alive. The hope is that we as a community can grow stronger.

Curator of Exhibitions and Collections Pamela Schwartz.

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I first met Pamela Schwartz, The Orange County Regional History Center Chief Curator three months after the horrific Pulse Nightclub shooting that took 49 lives. I had contacted artist, and History Center Collections manager Whitney Broadaway, about sketching interviews with survivors, family of victims and first responders. It just so happened that Pamela was beginning interviews, so the collaboration made perfect sense. Pamela is an artist herself, so she understood what I do.

Pamela had been working as the History Center museum curator for just four months when the Pulse shooting happened. As politicians and first responders scrambled for a course of action, Pam was making plans on how the History Center could play a role in preserving the history that was unfolding. Multiple memorials were appearing with people leaving flowers candles and personal mementos. Rather than have all these items end up in a landfill, Pamela spearheaded an effort to collect, preserve and catalogue all of the thousands of items in the museum archives.

The collections work happened under grueling conditions in the height of the Florida summer heat. It was thankless work since not everyone understood or appreciated what the museum staff was doing. To date over five thousand items are still being preserved and catalogued. In this sketch Pamela is working late at night cataloguing the 49 crosses that were left at Lake Beauty next to the Orlando Regional Medical Center where people were treated after the shooting. After being collected, each cross was placed in a specially made archival box with a clear front. All of the memorial items left at each cross would fit in another box that slips behind the cross inside the box, keeping everything together. Preservation of the crosses was a challenge since they weren’t built to last. Pamela took photos of each cross when they were at the hospital, showing them the first day and then sequentially with memorial items added over time. A large online database was created where memorial items can be seen. The crosses were supposed to go on public display 6 months after the shooting but Hurricane Mathew shut down those plans and canceled the Pride Parade. With one year fast approaching this June, the crosses are once again being considered as a symbolic centerpiece to honor each of the victims.

On Pam’s desk are several EMS and fire department rainbow patches which were custom made to honor the senseless loss of life. It is just one example of the many small gestures that people continue to make in order to deal in some way with the tragedy. Such items are often sent straight to the museum since only the memorial at Pulse remains. Lake Eola and the memorial at the Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts have since been collected and are now being preserved.

On this night the subject for the interview didn’t show up, so I sketched Pam at work. She entertained me with stories about her family in the midwest. She has been working in museums since she was 14,  so she was immediately up to the challenge when the Pulse Tragedy occurred. Interviews are still being conducted and likely will continue for years to come. Not everyone is ready to talk about that night. Just locating people is a challenge. Some wounds may never heal. I feel fortunate to be using my art to help document this story.

Taking your Pulse town hall meeting

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Orlando Regional Medical Center (ORMC), the hospital that treated most of the Pulse survivors, hosted a Pulse town hall meeting at the hospital just a few blocks north of Pulse. I had to ask the valet which building the meeting was in and he pointed me in the right direction. The entry had a metal detector so I had to empty my pockets and assure the guard that pencils are not weapons. The way to the meeting room was long and winding. I was a bit late, since I had rushed to the hospital after teaching a class. As I slipped in the Town Hall meeting was already underway.

WMFE’s Matthew Peddie spoke with survivors, first responders, city officials and LGBT/Latinx community leaders.The first panelists were Christopher Hanson who was in the club and survived, Dr. Joshua Corsa, Orlando Health, who wrote the viral post about his blood-soaked shoes, and Nurse Emily Brown, of Orlando Health.

Christopher Hanson was asked about his experience on the evening of June 12, and he briefly described his night. I have heard two interviews and was amazed at how brief he kept his account. Nurse Emily Brown, described her evening if hiding when reports surfaced that there might be a shooter in the hospital. She had been told that things were about to get crazy and then 36 patients arrived in the first 36 minuted. There was no time to think. Dr. Joshua Corsa was asked about his sneakers. He worked for 30 hours straight trying to save lives and when he finally had a moment to reflect, he realized his brand new sneakers were blood soaked. He wore that same pair of sneakers every day until the last survivor left the hospital.

Orlando Mayor Buddy Dyer and Orlando Police Department Chief John Mina were the next people on stage. Speaking about a future memorial, Buddy pointed out that the community process is in some ways more important than the final creation. Everyone should have input into the process.A sculptor submitted a sculpture honoring the Pulse victims but the mayor said that it wasn’t his place to decide what art is appropriate.An audience member stood and asked about what measures are being taken to keep undocumented LGBT survivors safe from being deported if they turn to authorities for help. Chief Mina pointed out that Orlando police have never been involved in deportation. It isn’t their job. Seattle began a program called the Safe Place Initiative which puts rainbow stickers on businesses that support different cultures and diversity. That program will be implemented in Orlando. A woman from the audience stood up to the mic and spoke of the fierce love that came from our city government. Our community experienced a strong commitment to love and that message remains strong today.

The final panelists were Christopher Cuevas, Executive Director of QLatinx and Terry DeCarlo, Executive Director of GLBT Community Center of Central Florida. Christopher feels that people are still struggling in isolation. “Thousands of voices need to be echoed from the mountain tops.” he said. Terry was outraged by the media’s insistence that the 911 tapes be aired on TV. He also hated the video reenactment that was created recently. He warned as many people as he could, but a mom was making dinner in the kit hen and overheard her son on a 911 tape. That level of emotional damage is irreparable. He wished that the media could instead celebrate the lives lost, and share the stories of heros. He was thankful to those who bear witness.

The evening was part of Story Corps: Taking Your Pulse project and the first of a series of Dare to Listen events held in the community on tough topics in 2017. The long sterile hospital hallways felt strangely ominous as I navigated the maze back towards my car.