conclusion
This happened earlier this week but I was unable to blog about it until now.
A few days after I talked to the reporter from Columbia University another reporter contacted me by email. He read my woohu and asked if he could quote me and use one of my pictures on Flickr. I gave him permission and appeared in a local Forest Hills paper this week.
A few hours after that reporter emailed me, I received an email from one of the family members of the woman who died. She was asking for any information I could give her because her family wasn't satisfied with the police report. We emailed back and forth and I told her everything I knew. I decided to give her my theory of how the accident happened, given circumstantial evidence I observed that night. I think my extrapolations made sense given the information she knew and it was nice to use some Forensic processes in real-world situation for the first time.
This is my last correspondence with the woman's family:
Michelle --
Actually, your words give me comfort. She died in such a horrible way, that it makes me feel better (if "better" is the right word to use), to think that it was instantaneous, from what you are saying. Shellie was such a lady, so classy, so dignified, that it's very hard for me to make sense of all this. We don't want to think that she suffered any pain at all. It does not sound like she did, and that gives me and my family some peace.
Thank you again for taking the time to talk to me about this. Your help has been greatly appreciated, and my family and I thank you.
Jennifer
She sent me her blog. It was amazing to read the entry she wrote about that night because we were both blogging about the incident but from two totally different views. Heartbreaking to read. The last three entries are about her aunt's death and the pictures she put up are beautiful.
an interesting series of events
Regarding the woman who died.
So since I live in Queens I am a fan off all Queens-related blogs. I enjoy one in particular because it is specific to Forest Hills, which is the area of Queens I have made into my habitat. The night that woman died I sent an email to the writer of the Forest Hills blog because I figured they might be interested. Later that night my Google Reader is pinged with an update from their blog--they had posted my email. I kept abreast of the comments and noticed at one point someone named Yomi had asked me if I would be willing to talk about the incident. I figured why not, so I posted my (secondary) email address. I got a response a little while later from a woman named Yomi who said she was a reporter for Columbia University here in NY and wanted to meet with me to talk about the accident. We emailed back and forth a bit and decided to meet by the scene of the accident today.
Well, I'm not a complete dumbass--I know meeting people from the Internet, especially in NYC, is not the wisest thing to do. So I googled her name--Oriyomi Abiola--aka Yomi Abiola.
Turns out. She's a model.
As in the face of Maybelline model.
I found that intriguing, but I wanted to make sure that this person really was Yomi and not just using their name. While doing more searches, including looking for reporters from Columbia University, I noticed a lot of articles popping up about her being the daughter of a Nigerian president who was killed in 1998.
Me: wtf.
By this time I had no idea who the heck I was meeting because so far I had found out that this woman was a professional model, a reporter for Columbia, and oh yeah, the daughter of a martyred Nigerian president.
Well, at least after all of my searching I knew what she was supposed to look like. So if I saw a fat, balding white guy waiting at the bus stop then I would know to put my hands in my pockets and whistle on by.
I went downstairs to meet her and there she was. Turns out I really did meet with Oriyomi Abiola, the daughter of a dead Nigerian president, a professional Maybelline model, and reporter for Columbia University. Oh yeah, and she has this badass London accent. Holla!
She was really nice and totally grateful for me taking the time to be interviewed. She must have thanked me 10 times. And she called me a 'gem'. A gem! How London.
So she recorded her interview with me out on the street and I showed her where the accident took place.
There's a really good article here from 2003 where she tells her story. It's pretty amazing. Such a different life.
In other capricious news this weekend, New York was hit by tropical storm Hanna, which basically means there was a lot of wind and rain on Saturday. Apparently we got 4 inches of rain, about a months worth, in one day. We didn't have any flooding or electricity problems in our area but I guess other boroughs did. Things such as these remind me that I in fact live on an island.
Crime scene tape left over from Friday night.
Ok ok, thus ends my exorbitant writing this weekend. I wrote some big ol' entries. I don't know why, just feeling rather loquacious I s'pose. Despite Hanna, this weekend was the calm before my own storm. Homework is nonexistent as of yet, the thesis is in its preliminary stages, and the NYPD is still investigating me and everyone I know. But tomorrow I dive into it all.
queens blvd
So last night Jason & I are hanging out and at one point in the evening I heard a loud bang outside the living room. I didn't think anything of it because there's always excessive cacophony outside our window--the consequence of living on a boulevard 12 lanes across. Anyway, a little while later Jason gets up and I hear him go "Oh my god!"
Oh noes.
So I get up and go to the window and right in front of our apartment (about 6 lanes out) is someone laying in the middle of the road surrounded by EMTs pumping the hell out of their chest (forgive abominable use of the vague pronoun--I have no idea if it was a man or woman). There were already three ambulances there, two from different hospitals and one from the FDNY or something, which gives an idea how completely oblivious we are to the noise outside our window. We hear sirens all day long so we thought nothing of (in fact I don't remember ever hearing) the sirens. The only time we notice the noise is if we're watching a movie and a particularly angry cluster of drivers causes us to turn on subtitles for awhile.
Anyway, they had gotten the person on a stretcher and they were continuing to pump his/her chest rapidly. It was pretty apparent that their heart had stopped. The EMTs rolled the person toward one of the ambulances and someone ran along side the stretcher shoving down on their chest. That's all we saw of the person. I have no idea if they lived.
You see CPR all the time on television but seeing it live is like getting hit with a brick. It's shocking.
A little in front of the ambulances was a small silver sedan and an old woman looking pretty shaken up. She was the one who smacked the person. Several NYPD cars showed up and closed down that section of Queens Blvd with flares and squared off the area with crime scene tape. They kept the old woman there for 3 hours questioning her. I have no idea how the accident happened and I can't find anything online about it. You'd think if they closed off a section of the biggest street in Queens and questioned someone for 3 hours there'd at least be a blurb about it online. I guess there's bigger things to fry in this city.
I didn't get any photos or video of the person who was hit because we were kind of in shock at the time, but I took a video and some pics a little while later.
I don't know why I said "he's obviously not dead" because I have no idea. I think I was under that impression because they kept the ambulance there for awhile before taking them to the hospital. But I guess it's feasible that the reason they were in no hurry to get the ambulance moving is because [s]he was dead.
Window Troll is Not Amused
When we moved in a couple years ago we soon learned that the street we lived on was dubbed the Boulevard of Death by the locals. Not too long after that we learned why. It's a very angry boulevard. This is the second person I've seen hit by a car in the past year on this street. And is the reason why these signs are speckled all around:
It's pretty funny what you get if you type in Boulevard of Death on Flickr.
And while I was perusing the Internets for news on the accident I came across many a' amusing Queens Blvd-inspired poems.
Queens Boulevard, ruthless boulevard
Destination for the stony-hearted
Queens Boulevard, lethal boulevard
Everyone's forgotten how they started
Here on Queens Boulevard!
and
Secretive and rich, a little scary
Queens Boulevard, tempting boulevard
Waiting there to swallow the unwary
:: some Mickie T guy
! الØمد لله
I started my last year of college last week. I do not want to talk about how much this is freaking me out.
I am so sorry that I haven't updated lately but things have been crazy. On Mondays and Thursdays, I have class from 9am - 7pm with 5 minutes between classes and work crammed in there too. Otherwise, I have one or two classes.
Here's the rundown:
Mondays/Thursdays
I have Cartography at 9. This class is awesome because I've always wanted to be a useless cartographer and it's taught by Bieneman. Did I ever tell you I had his wife in elementary school? She was my fourth grade teacher. Her mother passed away this week.
At 10:50, I go to work until 1:25.
Don't even get me started on these new kids. They deserve their own post.
At 1:40, I have French Film and Lit. It's only the second week of school and I already am just reading the SparkNotes. The class would be so much less painful with you girls but I'm surviving okay with...the one girl whose name I still don't know after four years and some other girl.
Five minutes after the end of French class, I have Ceramics. It's really just a class to help me calm down but I've already broken two pots and found two very not artistic buddies. I am so not artsy.
Five minutes after the end of feeling dumb, I have Arabic. Which is, quite frankly, awesome. It is difficult but a ton of fun. I feel like such a genius when I get a word right or when I understand what's going on. Also: heritage! I hope I get to talk to my mom's relatives before the kick the bucket because now I know my blood languages (as my mom calls it).
Tuesdays/Fridays
I have a confession to make. Because I couldn't afford the textbook and he stressed homework so much, I dropped my history class. So now I have to take it next semester.
In other news, at 10:50, I have Tai Chi. Which is reaching Folk and Square Dance in awesomeness. The prof learned Tai Chi directly from some famous family who created a form of Tai Chi. He is a hoot. I have a thousand stories from him. He fell off a curb and landed on cement about a year ago and had trouble walking again. His hip hurt when he walked so he couldn't walk across the room until he tried doing Tai Chi. When he walked by doing his Tai Chi moves, his hip didn't hurt any more. Since he is injured, his wife does most of the demonstrations. She also helps him remember how old he is when he adds thirteen years to his age. Both of them are pretty old, 60s and 70s, but they are hilarious. He calls himself Monk and his wife Natalie Teager. Most of the class is taken up by his stories.
On Tuesdays, I have Arabic at 6 (work before that (10:50 to 5) but I have Arabic only Mondays through Thursdays so I just have Tai Chi and work on Fridays.
On Wednesdays, I am not working for the first time in my life. So all I have is Arabic at 6. I sleep, I read, I do homework, I relax.
Overall, this semester is awesome but very stressful. I have a lot of work ahead of me.
medical examiner
I'll have my 400 hours in at the ME by next week. Things have been pretty busy around here. I started classes this week, although I missed my first one because I was at the NYPD meeting with my investigator. The fingerprint scanner was having problems (they don't ink you anymore, it's all electronic scanning) so I left Queens an hour late and didn't get into lower Manhattan until after class was over. Whoops. But Zoran teaches that class and he didn't even care. Mmm, perks of working with your professor.
I received some exciting news today at the ME. My Crim IV told me she found an excellent project for my thesis. Since I will be leaving them for the PD soon, she found a project that the police have a vested interest in as well as the ME. I will be researching various aspects of DNA collection from bullet casings recovered from crime scenes. I am super excited to have a project. The only thing that could prevent me from graduating this spring is if I don't finish my master thesis on time, so understandably I've been itching to begin. The classes pretty much take care of themselves. Speaking of which:
Fall 2008 (the penultimate semester!):
FOR 610 - Professional Issues in Forensic Science
Learning the laws that pertain to our investigation and subsequent testimony in court.
FOR 615 - Separation Chemistry
Using GC/MS, LC, CE, UV, IR, and NMR to identify unknown compounds from arson evidence, drug evidence, and bomb evidence. Basically we receive an unknown and have to tell the prof what's in it. Since Pace doesn't have a Controlled Substance License we can only work with legal drugs so it's usually mixtures of ibuprofen, acetaminophen, amphetamines, etc for the drug part of the course. For the bomb evidence we have to identify different nitrates used to make the bomb and for arson we should determine what accelerants were used.
FOR 701 - Forensic Pathology
Everything that is awesome in life. So excited for this class. Bodies. Bodies bodies bodies.
FOR 798 - Thesis I
Just a class to give us some guidance and resources for completing the first half of our thesis: the IRB, proposal, and research. Wahoo.
Spring 2009 (la fin!):
FOR 696 - Forensic Anthropology
mmm bones.
FOR 666 - Crime Scene Reconstruction
blood spatter ... all that good messy stuff. wait until you hear what we get to do. i'll save that for another entry.
FOR 620 - Analytical Spectroscopy
not-so-lovingly dubbed Anal Spec by the students.
FOR 799 - Thesis II
preparing for that terrifying day i'll mount my defense in front of the board.
Life is gonna get pretty intense this year. I will be working 40 hours a week at the NYPD, then going to class in the evening until 9pm, coming home and catching up with Jason and our tasties, then on the weekend I will be doing research at the Medical Examiners. Somewhere in there is homework and going to the gym. Soooo I probably will disappear for awhile. I'm totally ready for this though. I love my career. Really, truly love it.
I'm gonna miss my bebe though. :(
But he's busy too, teaching for his THIRD YEAR ALREADY! Oh yeah, and there's that whole dissertation thing he's doing. ;) It's thesis mania over here, I tell ya. At least I get to come home to him every night. We're in our third year living together. Falling asleep holding your hand, it's what brings me home.
To end this longness, I'm posting some pictures I took at the Medical Examiner earlier in the summer. The view is totally boss.
The view from my desk. Not bad for a 23-year-old, right? :)
One of the conference rooms.
Me and the Crim I's in my group. If this isn't diversity in the workplace, I don't know what is: Black, White, Hispanic, and Asian. New York City represent!
Anyway, if anybody made it this far and wants to see where I work:
I woke up this morning and stumble into the bathroom to pee when Jason, who is already up and getting ready for his first day back at teaching, tells me to go look at his computer.
He had an article up about David Duchonvy voluntarily entering rehab for sex addiction. Well, that's not a news headline I'm used to at 7 in the morning. Both amusing and confusing. I wonder if it will affect his role on Californication, a Showtime series that Jason & I watch which is basically soft porn with David. My mom loves it too. Go figure.
I read a couple of articles about it this evening. One of which posted this picture.
I haven't seen this since I was like 15 years old. When I of course gazed upon it daily.
Over the course of the day I received phone calls, emails, and wall posts about the news. Well, I figure if people are hearing about David Duchonvy and his sex addiction and they immediately think of me, then my job here is done. Good lord, I must have talked about him a lot. Damn my obsessions.
No wait, I like them.
Jason: I bet this means he got a boner when you hugged him. Me: I know I did.
So this is what live blogging is like...
I gotta hand it to you, John (or better yet, your campaign managers).
- You waited less than 12 hours (!!) to quell the enthusiasm of Obama's speech to announce your VP pick; I've seen vultures work slower than that. You go steal those headlines, John! Show them how politics is about the people, and not just a game!
- Your pick is a plain-spoken (anagram pun intended), middle-aged female governor from Alaska who shares a name with one of the funniest Monty Python members. Kudos on your successful Hilary-cloning experiment, John! And nice touch picking a brunette... nobody will catch on to that one!
- Not only does your VP pick come from a state whose capital is Juneau (totally boss), she's got a son in the military! Take that, Obama! Michelle, you better ship one of the cute little girls of yours off ASAP.
Standing up to 'politics as usual,' eh? You show them, John. You show them exactly what we are trying to get away from.
It was just one of those times when you know you're seeing something significant. Not just because the media grinds into your brain that this is a historical moment, but because someday you'll look back on tonight and say yeah, I watched that happen.
I know there's a lot of buzz around him because he's making history being the first black nominee. But I think the truly historical events have yet to be revealed. I don't know what they are or even what I'm talking about, but I just have a feeling. I guess it's not that far of a stretch to say so given what he's accomplished thus far.
One thing I do want to say is that I want to have faith. I want to have faith in people. I find myself apprehensive at times, worried that he will succumb to the same fate as Martin Luther King, Jr. This might sound dramatic, but it's not far fetched. My faith wavers not in our country, but in the outliers. The quiet, bigoted recluse with a penchant for hate. Someone who sits in their ripped armchair watching him on TV and feels only unrighteous rage at a black man in charge. This is the one I fear. But I will keep my faith. It is the first true hope I have felt for this country in a long long time.
I didn't always used to be this way. I apologize for four years ago.
I'll make it right this time.
By the ridiculousness that are my past entries, it's apparent Joe was in town this weekend for his first visit to the city. Sunday we called up Steve, met him at Grand Central and had ourselves a mini 1st Fox reunion.
^ Whatta bunch of gumps.
For those who don't know, we all lived in the Fox dorms at WMU.
Mmm, nostalgic.
We walked a lot that day. We started in Battery Park at the tip of Manhattan and meandered our way along the coastline, under Brooklyn Bridge to see the waterfalls, then across Brooklyn Bridge and back again (waving hi to my school of course), finally ending with a bustling stint through Chinatown and landing in Little Italy for some deliciousness.
I won't even share how many pictures we have because it's embarrassing.
Oh, and I thought I broke my pinky on Monday at the Medical Examiner's. I definitely will not share how I did that because it is even more embarrassing. The irony is not lost on me that in order to type the word 'pinky' I need my crooked, discolored digit to type the 'p'. I'm thinking I perhaps jammed or sprained it instead, since after two days it's feeling a bit better. This all without putting any ice on it or splinting it or any sort of thing that I really ought to have done.
But it's less purple now than it was this morning.
So, I win this round pinky.
edit 11:53
Oh yes, and a Michelle Fun Fact of the Day:
Previous to this latest pinky incident I have broken only one bone during my lifetime.
This pinky.
This exact freaking pinky.
It was a different joint on the pinky, but still. Know where I mangled said pinky?
At Burger King. As a child. And for the rest of my years a small nub of a bone has protruded from between my ring finger and pinky finger. My fingercrack, if you will. Because I didn't splint my finger that time either.
No I will not tell you how I broke my pinky at Burger King.
This entry is just riddled with secrecy.
Oooooh. ::wiggles fingers::
Got into New York last night, Jason and Michelle met me at the airport. The city is surprisingly like Minneapolis/St. Paul. We went walking around to hit the liquor store, which was closed. Ended up with some Miller from the gas station and playing Mario Kart Wii.
Today I took my first subway ride and went to Rockefeller Center. Neat area, but much smaller than what it looks like on TV. We proceeded to wander around and look at places: the M&M Store, Nintendo World, Virgin, and MOMA (Museum of Modern Art). We had lunch at some little place that had a ton of food and EXCELLENT pizza. Dinner was at ESPN Zone.
Autumn is almost heeeeere.
My fingertips told me so.
Joe is coming tomorrowwww.
We shall toast large plastic cups brimming with spiked slushies and forge through epic Wii battles.
And probably gorge on many-a-Papa Johns.
Deeeee-lish.
Only about 2.563 weeks until I have my 400 hours in at the Medical Examiner. Hopefully this NYPD background check will get rolling. I could use the green, yo.
School soooooooon. I can't wait to buy books and smell them.
::
2008 20 August :: 3.53am
:: Mood: blank
:: Music: the sound of settling - the string quartet
that night, a forest grew
summer is winding down, and i'll be back at school in about four days.
these past few months have been odd, and it feels like no time has gone by at all. i'm in a weird place, too -- my best friend's mother was murdered last week. the funeral was monday; the first funeral i've attended, and though i didn't go to the viewing, i still managed to see some of her and it was-- it was so horrible. i had to fight the urge to walk out of the church, certain that i couldn't go through with the rest of it.
she was just so empty.
it hurts to even think about.
the tropical storm hit today, though everyone tends to shrug off these things unless it's at least a category 2 or 3. after so many hurricanes i've become almost numb to the thought of them. the only people who are actually terrified of them are tourists caught on the tail-end of their vacation.
and in a few hours i'll finish doing the laundry and slowly begin packing up my things for next year. here's hoping it won't be as stressful as the last.
::
2008 17 August :: 11.37pm
:: Mood: whimsical
:: Music: Death Cab For Cutie
adirondacks
Back from our trip to the mountains. It was ridiculously peaceful. No internet, no phone calls, no tele, no cable, (ok a little Wii action on the projector), and our cabin didn't have a single clock in it. It's nearly unfathomable to live without time for a week. I operate within the new york minute during the week. Rushing through the subway, the crowds, the vendors and stands and tourists. Beat the clock, beat the crowds, compact your activities, maximize research time, schedule the robots effectively, prove yourself. Prove yourself.
But there were no clocks. Bed time, lunch time, dinner time -- everything was fluid.
The cabin Mike & Tiffany reserved was beautiful. I was in love with the fireplace and our little wooden loft bedroom with white lace curtains.
There were 10 of us staying there for the week. Amazingly, the cabin had a separate bed for everyone and each couple got their own room. Golf clap for Mike & Tiffany, for sure.
We went on two different hikes. One of which ended on the shore of a lily pad laden marsh and a spectacular view of the mountains in the distance. I was in love.
We also went rafting down a river that ran through a gorge carved out by pounding waterfalls. Unfortunately I don't have pictures of this because I wasn't gutsy enough to take my SLR down some rapids.
We visited some caves a couple miles away from our cabin. We couldn't go very far past the entrance because you had to go underwater to enter the actual cave. This required about $60, reservations, and suiting up ... all of which we didn't have. It was still a really cool place to go. I would definitely be up for spelunking someday.
Back in the city now. I miss waking up to a crackling fire, cool mornings, the smell of coffee and frying eggs, and the laughter of my friends. Hard to believe I was in New York at all. It felt like vacations during my childhood where I spent time wandering the woods at my parent's place in Michigan's upper peninsula. Nostalgic and familiar. The first hike we went on ended with a crazy flash thunderstorm. It just downpoured on us. We didn't run and hide under trees, but sloshed down the muddy trail right in the middle of it. We were silent and the rain poured down my neck, soaking me in minutes. No one talked, we just took it in. I felt alive.
Jason & I took 358 photos. I cut it down to 135 uploads on Flickr. To see the log cabin, the muddy trails, silver lakes, rocky streams, winding caves, and my laughing friends
I’m really pissed at my iPod. I wanted to listen to Placebo this afternoon and it wasn’t listed underneath artists, so I just listened to something else. I made sure Placebo was on my laptop, it was, so I hooked up the iPod to sync it, but it was already done. Going a different way I searched for the album title on the iPod and it’s listed. So, why is this album listed but not the artist?
matt taylor's closet
Speaking of the legendary Matt Taylor, here is a video from his party last week. He has drums in his closet. A tiny, empty closet in his Beer Pong room. Please excuse our disposition as it was my (and Jason's) first try at Beer Pong (shocking I know). My lightweightism is a bit disconcerting at times. And for the record, I like Flippy Cup better.
And here is a fun chat with my friend Luke -- a med school student:
Luke: good luck with the blood and semen M: hahaha thanks Luke: do you ever deal with urine and/or feces, as well? M: i haven't yet, but yeah they do Luke: something to look forward to
... Luke: i've accidentally stumbled across fecal porn online before. everything was going fine then all of a sudden..."did that girl just shit?"
Jason & I are going to a cabin in the Adirondack mountains on Monday. Our friends rented out a place and we're taking a week vacation. Only 3 weeks until school starts! I'm flippin' excited yo! My nerdiness is inexcusable, I know. But ... I loves the science.
