[PRCo] Re: OT: Prohibition of photography from trains and police action taken

[Jerry Matt Matsick]

Boris, so true and yes that was one bad incident, however in traveling in Europe I had several similar experiences, and one one occasion someone tried to smash my camera.   There is good and bad everywhere, it is up to us to do our best to be kind and
helpful to all we come into  contact with.   Here in Florida, countless thousands come and visit and I trust that from Miami to
Jacksonville they are given a warm WELCOME!
Jerry "Matt" Matsick 
>From Jacksonville 
Where FLORIDA begins!


-------------- Original message from "Boris Cefer" <westinghouse at iol.cz>: -------------- 


> I think this story won't attract many foreign visitors to your country... 
> Most people believe in good people but they also remember what they hear and 
> read. 
> 
> B 
> 
> ----- Original Message ----- 
> From: "Jim Holland" 
> To: "- 1714 PRCo__WP__JTC -" ; "- 
> 1714 PRCo__WP__JTC -" ; "- 1717 
> PRCo__WP__JTC -" 
> Sent: Tuesday, November 20, 2007 12:56 PM 
> Subject: [PRCo] OT: Prohibition of photography from trains and police action 
> taken 
> 
> 
> 
> http://www.episcopalcafe.com/daily/war_and_peace/every_day_diplomacy.php 
> 
> Episcopal Café 
> November 3, 2007 
> 
> Joel Merchant is a teacher, business consultant, and essayist. He is 
> currently working on "The Other Side of Time; Letters to My Daughter" at 
> a-reminiscence. 
> 
> Posted by Jim Naughton on 4:15 AM | Permalink | Digg this 
> 
> Every day diplomacy 
> 
> Note: we are receiving many insightful comments on this article from 
> folks who aren't signing the comments using their real names. We are 
> delighted to have your comments, especially from first-time visitors, 
> but in the interest of transparency and accountability, we do require 
> you to sign your posts with your real name. Thanks. The editors. 
> 
> By Joel L. Merchant 
> 
> Countries, like people, make friends with others one at a time. This is 
> a story of one failure. In fairness to an unknown visitor to our 
> country, imagine yourself in his place. The scene is on a recent Amtrak 
> trip between New York City and Boston. The conductor collects tickets, 
> requests identification, folds destination stubs into seatbacks, moves 
> on to other cars. An older man across the aisle, traveling alone, shows 
> his passport. It is clear from their conversation he doesn't know 
> English. After decades as a frequent traveler, I have thousands of 
> pictures -- scenery, buildings, people, architecture, from around the 
> world. Today the train passes a lovely stretch of Connecticut shore, 
> tidal marshes, nesting ospreys, the Long Island Sound. What little 
> attention I pay as the visitor takes pictures, is that I'm impressed 
> with his equipment. He and I, unknown to each other, are members of a 
> picture-taking culture, fellow citizens of a show-and-tell world. I 
> wonder if his will join the thousands on YouTube. I imagine, after his 
> return home, how many friends he will impress with stories and pictures 
> of this mild, early autumn, Saturday morning journey along the New 
> England shoreline. 
> 
> The train is a half hour west of New Haven when the conductor, having 
> finished her original rounds, reappears. She moves down the aisle, 
> looks, stops between our seats, faces the person taking pictures. "Sir, 
> in the interest of national security, we do not allow pictures to be 
> taken of or from this train." He starts, "I……." but, without English, 
> his response trails off into silence. The conductor, speaking louder, 
> forcefully: "Sir, I will confiscate that camera if you don't put it 
> away." Again, little response. "Sir, this is a security matter! We 
> cannot allow pictures." She turns away abruptly and, as she moves down 
> the aisle, calls over her shoulder, in a very loud voice, "Put. It. 
> Away!" He packs his camera. Within a minute after our arrival in New 
> Haven, two armed police officers entered the car, approached my 
> neighbor's seat. "Sir, we're removing you from this train." "I….;" "I……" 
> "Sir, you have breached security regulations. We must remove you from 
> this train." "I…," "I….." "Sir, we are not going to delay this train 
> because of you. You will get off, or we will remove you physically." 
> "I….." Nearby passengers stir. One says, "It's obvious he doesn't speak 
> English. There are people here who speak more than one language. Perhaps 
> we can help." Different ones ask about the traveler's language; learn he 
> speaks Japanese. For me, a sudden flash of memory -- a student at 
> International Christian University in Japan, I took countless pictures 
> without arousing suspicion. 
> 
> The police speak through the interpreter, with the impatience of 
> authority. The conductor asked this man three times to discontinue. We 
> must remove him from the train." The traveler hears the translation, is 
> befuddled. Hidden beneath the commotion is a cross-cultural drama. With 
> the appearance of police officers, this quiet visitor is embarrassed to 
> find he is the center of attention. The officers explain, "After we 
> remove him from the train, when we are through our investigation, we 
> will put him on the next train." The woman translates. The passenger 
> replies, "I'm meeting relatives in Boston. They cannot be reached by 
> phone. They expect me and will be worried when I do not arrive on 
> schedule." "Our task," the police repeat, "is to remove you from this 
> train. If necessary, we will do so by force. After we have finished the 
> investigation, we'll put you on another train." The woman translates. 
> The traveler gathers his belongings and departs. 
> 
> My earlier suggestion that you imagine being in his place leaves you 
> free to respond and draw your conclusions. Remember: you've been removed 
> from the train, are being interrogated, perhaps having your equipment 
> confiscated; while I continue to do what I take for granted – traveling 
> unimpeded, on to Providence. 
> 
> The more I replay the scene, the more troublesome it is. It is the stuff 
> of nightmares. Relations between people and countries lie at the heart 
> of the issue. The abstract terms that inform political and social debate 
> appear, as if in person, unexpectedly, near enough to hear, touch, feel. 
> Taking no position is not an option. As an educator, I would prepare and 
> deliver a lecture on how others perceive America in the world community, 
> then seek an audience. I'll spare you. But -- I just watched armed 
> police officers remove a visitor from the train for taking pictures. I 
> don't understand this. I'm disturbed no, shaken – to bear witness to 
> these events. Other passengers react with surprise and anger. "Since 
> when is it illegal to take pictures?" 
> 
> "Nobody's ever bothered me about it." "Is the only photography allowed 
> from the space station and Google Earth? These people take pictures of 
> everything, including my house, without my permission, and they're 
> instantly available on the internet." An older traveler reflected, "I 
> witnessed this personally in police states during the war in Europe." 
> 
> 
> In The Terror Presidency, Jack Goldsmith says it is right for a country 
> to meet a threat in a way that keeps us safe, but must also "minimize 
> unnecessary intrusion on …life, liberty and property.... and all those 
> who are enjoying them with us." One passenger asked, "Would someone 
> please explain the threat posed by taking pictures from the train?" 
> 
> 
> In Matt Stoller's review of A Tragic Legacy, he says the current 
> administration has "transformed the way (people) speak about our country 
> and its role in the world." The good-versus-evil mentality has "altered 
> the political system of our country" and our relationship with the rest 
> of the world – in ways which are "inappropriate for a modern power in a 
> time of global turmoil." 
> 
> 
> It doesn't take more than five minutes, in any airport in this country, 
> before I hear the loudspeaker, "The current terror threat is elevated." 
> We hear "terror" endlessly – traveling, at home, on television, in the 
> news. Recent political campaigns have reminded no, badgered – us, to be 
> very afraid. What did Franklin Roosevelt say, that "the only thing we 
> have to fear is fear itself." Terror. Paranoia. We can no longer 
> differentiate between terrors. Is this our generation's enlightened 
> contribution to American culture? 
> 
> 
> Watching police escort a visitor off the train, I felt anger, not 
> comfort. This action was beyond irritating. It is intolerable, 
> unacceptable. If it bothered me, it paled in comparison to the way it 
> inconvenienced, and will long trouble, this visitor to our country. We 
> disrupted his travel plans and family reunion. Even greater than the 
> psychological damage we inflicted is the harm we've done to ourselves. 
> 
> We missed an opportunity to show kindness, to be ambassadors of 
> goodwill. The visitor will return home. He will indeed impress many 
> people – not with pleasant memories and pictures of a quiet morning trip 
> along the New England coast, but with a story of being removed and 
> detained by American police for taking pictures. Do we imagine we've 
> gained anything because a single visitor returns home with stories of 
> mistreatment? 
> 
> 
> We engage in diplomacy whenever we have contact with visitors or travel 
> abroad ourselves. If we conduct ourselves poorly as daily ambassadors, 
> it is no wonder our country suffers a tarnished relationship with the world. 
> 
>