Memorial for Eric Ng

This was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever photographed.

During the ceremony at the Ghost Bike Ryan spoke atop an impromptu promontory next to the bike to a densly-gathered congregation of those who came to remember, mourn and honor a fallen hero.

As Ryan spoke the silence of hte astonishingly large group was punctuated by sobs and the sounds of choked-back tears. A scream from next to me tore through the dense sadness. It was followed by a few smiles and some gentle singing of a blues/folk song everyone seemed to know. I felt like I didn’t belong here in this very private moment, witnessing this. I couldn’t bring myself to photograph anyone crying even though I know it makes better journalism. We the viewer know its a sad occasion … Eric lived 22 years but only died in an instant. Why focus on that cruel instant when there was a life – albeit a short one – to celebrate?

I feel as though I missed out on something tragically good in never having met Eric Ng.

From the out pouring of love, the most wretched of howling sadness and laughter from such a diverse and expansive congregation of everyone in NYC one can plainly see the universe lost one of its brightest stars – extinguished in body by a drunk driver but immortal in spirit in the hearts of the many he touched.

The memory of his explosive and joyous 22 years on this great Earth was celebrated in a memorial bike ride from Washington Square to the site on the Hudson River Greenway where Visual Resistance placed a Ghost Bike in Eric’s name.

Mere despair doesn’t delve deeply into the emotional void left when such a Champion of Decency is ripped from our lives in such a meaningless, violent way. However, one can take comfort in knowing that his life and memory and love and energy were celebrated to the fullest extent of human possibility.

“Do not go gently into that good night”.

Love & Rage.