THROUGH THE EYES OF A POLICEMAN
Congratulations Robert Moses for coming in first-place in the first-ever Eric Williams Scholarship Fund Art Contest. Thank you for all your hard work and participation!
Robert Moses has been teaching for over 50 years. Currently he teaches art at a Jewish high school in Kingston, PA and also teaches math and science at a rabbinical college in Wilkes-Barre. His goal is to graduate from LCCC with an associates degree in drawing and painting. When asked about his long teaching career Mr. Moses commented, “I have never worked a day in my life.”
A peaceful medieval town, somewhere in France, around 1096-1099, the time of the First Crusades. Street is empty, morning has come, two Crusader tents are visible on the roof of the last building suggesting the beginning of the Crusades. At the end of the street is an arch allowing movement down the street onto open fields. Bright blue light reflects off windows made from flattened animal horns. All is well.
The architecture, almost the same as the French medieval town, is evident. The road, however, is different: instead of an easy passage out of town, an ominous house with high black doors blocks the exit from the street.
On the right side, an American flag is drooped over a black wooden post projecting out of the wall. The flag is wrongly positioned with the stars next to the wall. The stars are fuzzy, out-of-focus, indistinct. The black stripes on the flag and the blue line remind us that police lives matter. In Pittsburgh, as well as in all active shooter situations, police risk their lives to save the lives of citizens.
Through the eyes of a policeman, who is highly stressed due to the blood that is coming from under the synagogue door at the end of the street, all is not the way it should be. The flag stars are out-of-focus, and roof on the third building seems to continue going upward as if straight to heaven, because the policeman is focused on the blood. On top of the next roof are Crusader tenets, turned blood red.
Pittsburgh is experiencing murder. The police are called. A black car with no eyes portends disaster as it sits on a medieval cart used to bring out he dead during the Black Plague.
As our policeman feels the enormity of what has happened in Pittsburgh, as if a new plague had been brought to America by way of hatred, a crusade of hatred so to speak, not a crusade of love, the policeman realizes that the Middle Ages has come to Pittsburgh. In the midst of this disaster the tree of life continues to be green.