Dark descended as I arrived at the Marriott. My feet had logged many miles since this morning, three large loops of Manhattan. I was hungry and thirsty. The Marriott was handing out water and the official line that, still, nobody was allowed in. Hmmm. I checked in with Vancouver via street pay-phone because my cell's GSM service had disappeared. The cell phone made an awesome flashlight, though. Dialling one phone by the light of another. Cute. I told my tummy to be quiet, forget about the 10 bucks that it could have had and fed it some peanut M&Ms (85 cents, down to 50 cents cash). I rested my feet at a Times Square curbside seat, eventually perking up enough for more photos. Especially with Times Square in the dark! Transport was still an issue, for some. Apparently, some people didn't get home from downtown until the next morning.
People with cameras were dashing hither and thither, recording their version of history. Professionals wielded most of the cameras I had seen earlier but now the amateurs had grabbed their equipment from home and were out in number, snapping and flashing alongside the newsies. In the Marriott drive-through atrium, people settled in for an eternally long night, curling up on the concrete to sleep, utilizing mobile technology, or just waiting. The mounted police arrived on pretty horses (some rescued from local tracks) to protect the people and the flag. A kick-ass police truck with floodlights roared its defiance at the dark and tried to replace the neon. Nope. Doesn't have the same flare, the same pizzazz.
Keep in mind the last couple sections of photos were taken at 10pm-ish in Times Square when one could usually see your neighbour's nose hairs because of all the neon. I waited until I was tired of waiting, then set out on another loop headed west towards New Jersey. I meandered through dark neighbourhoods filled with people partying on their porches, enjoying the dark and generally being hot, even though the sun was well down. Thinking about the possible night to come, I was happy to have two shirts, jeans, and shoes on (my protection from getting hypothermia from overactive air conditioning). I ended up at the Intrepid aircraft carrier museum, had a long, hard look at the opposite shore, then fumbled my way 'home' in the dark. Tired feet, empty belly, and running out of photo-inspiration steam again. Some of the faces in Times Square, though, had to be captured. The newsies were still holding court, sending roving cameramen into the Marriott atrium. A few people objected, some were interviewed and stopped caring. A car left running for light was half empty, and it wasn't even midnight yet. A shark went wandering by, decked out with arms, legs and blinking neon.
Somehow, the Blackout Boys and I found each other. Tim, Bill, John, and Thomas were hanging by a street vendor queue; biding their time and watching the world go by after having just found each other. What are the chances, in a relatively dark Times Square, that so many people would find each other completely by chance and without trying?
The Marriott was letting people into the bottom three floors, guided by employees with flashlights and, if you were lucky, getting a sheet. The Blackout Boys went in, but I decided to stay out. I didn't want to be inside when the lights went on; I knew I wanted to be outside with my camera! Getting back outside as people flooded in would be difficult. I eventually found a relatively presentable spot in a Marriott alley/breezeway and lay my head on my oh-so-soft camera bag, fitfully snoozing the night away.
I thought for a long, hazy minute that maybe the police had brought in another floodlight truck, but then realized that the grey wall that I didn't recall from the last time I had rolled over was because of dawn. All right, up and at 'em and out to the streets. Still no building lights, but lots of portable lights.
I headed east towards the sunrise, cutting through the now open Grand Central Station. Still no running trains, but lots of people meandering and waiting, just as in Times Square and probably every other building. It was a touch prophetic walking the same footsteps I had walked just over 14 hours before. The Grand Central clock I had stood under watching the jazz trio was stopped at 4:11, marking history for the NY power grid. I continued forging towards the sun, catching a beautiful sunrise over a dark Long Island from close to the UN grounds and Trump Tower.
Since a quick mid-show lunch the day before, I'd managed some peanut M&Ms and a roll of film. Not a lot of sustenance for a tummy. I slogged back to the Marriott past Rockefeller Center. Many potential breakfast places were open, but none that had anything substantive for less than 50 cents or that accepted plastic. Rockefeller Center had a neat exposition on powered flight that redirected my attention for a while, but eventually I headed for Times Square. Some power was back on in areas on the way home, putting a semblance of normalcy on downtown, but power could be available on one side of the street and not on the other.
The Blackout Boys emerged from the Marriott, somewhat refreshed from their itchy sleep on Marriott carpets (not lucky enough to get sheets). We gathered forces (again, the chances?) and traipsed off in search of breakfast. We found a Dunkin' Donuts just opening its doors and were first in line. Thankfully, Thomas consented to buy me breakfast from already harried Dunkin' Donuts people. I slowly consumed my donut and muffin, relishing every bite! After a stately breakfast watching the donuts disappear (and only one case of nasty attitude, I was pleased to see), we went back to the Marriott. I snoozed erratically in an alleyway for a while, but with little effect. People were still sorting through their options and trying to get home.