Hot Dogs

Hot Dogs

Colin Powell

One of my favorite things to do is simply to walk along Park Avenue in my hometown, New York, on a beautiful spring or fall afternoon.  On my walk, I always stop at the corner of a numbered cross street, where a Sabrett hot dog cart manned by an immigrant will always be stationed.  I love those hot dogs, affectionately known to New Yorkers as "dirty water dogs" because they sit in a pot of near-boiling water.

I always must have one of them, adorned with mustard and that unique red onion relish I've only found in New York.  It takes me back to my youth, when they only cost ten cents.

I even found time for it when I was Secretary of State.  I would come out of my suite at the Waldorf-Astoria and stroll north up Park Avenue or perhaps over on Fifth Avenue.  In those days, I was surrounded by bodyguards, and there were usually a couple of New York City police cruisers rolling alongside to keep me from being whacked as I walked.  With my entourage, I would walk up to the nearest hot dog peddler and order my hot dog.  One poor guy, put off by the attention and all the police and guards, immediately stopped preparing my hot dog, thrust his hands up, and shouted, "I've got a green card, I've got a green card!"  I assured him all was well and this was all about me, not about him.

I still have to have a hot dog on my walk, but all the bodyguards and police cars are gone, as is the Waldorf suite.  Shortly after leaving State, I went up to a hot dog stand on Fifth Avenue and ordered my standard fare.  As the attendant was finishing up my hot dog, a look of recognition came across his face, but he struggled to pull up my name.  "I know you," he said, "I see you on television."  Then, as he handed me the hot dog, it hit him.  "Ah, yes, of course, you're General Powell."  I handed him the money, but he refused to take it.  "No, General, no, you don't owe me anything.  I've been paid.  America paid me.  I will never forget where I came from, but now I am here, I am an American.  I've been given a new life, and so have my children.  Thank you, please enjoy the hot dog."

I thanked him and continued up the avenue, feeling a warm glow as the recognition came over me once again.  What a country... still the same country that gave my immigrant parents the open door and welcome ninety years ago.  We must never forget that has been our past; it is certainly our present and future.   

The Gift of a Good Start

The Gift of a Good Start

Colin Powell

During my time as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, I often met senior foreign military leaders during my travels.  Sometime during our initial meetings, I came to expect this question to come up: "When did you graduate from West Point?"  Apparently they were still of the view that a West Point commission was the only way to get to the top.

"I didn't go to West Point," I replied, "as much as that would have been an honor."

An embarrassed cough usually followed, and then came the next question: "Oh, well, where did you go?"

The answer was the City College of New York, in Harlem, not far from where I was born.  I was commissioned through CCNY's ROTC program -- the first ROTC graduate, the first black, and the youngest ever to become Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. 

"It's a great school," I told them, "open to everyone." I'd usually go on to explain that CCNY was founded in 1847 and was then called the Free Academy.  It was the first fully open, free college in America -- a daring innovation in those days, as its president, a West Pointer, Dr. Horace Webster, declared on the opening day in 1849:

"The experiment is to be tried, whether the children of the people, the children of the whole people, can be educated, and whether an institution of the highest grade, can be successfully controlled by the popular will, not by the privileged few."

Time passes and I show up on campus in February 1954.  I'm not sure how I got in.  I was in no way an academic star.  My high school grades were below the CCNY's admission standards.  Was I given a preference?  I don't know.

At CCNY I was initially an engineering major, but quickly dropped it.  Later I settled on geology, but by then I had discovered ROTC.  I fell in love with ROTC, and with the Army.

After four-and-a-half no-cost, undistinguished academic years, CCNY administration took pity on me and allowed my ROTC A grades to remain in my college average.  This brought my average up to a smidgen above 2.0, high enough to quality for graduation.  To the great relief of the faculty, I was passed off to the U.S. Army.

Nearly 60 years later, I am considered one of the CCNY's greatest sons.  I have received every award the school can hand out; an institute at CCNY has named after me - the Colin L. Powell Center for Leadership and Service; and I have been titled a Founder and Distinguished Visiting Professor.  Many of my professors have to be spinning in their graves over all that...

I love telling the story of my rocky education career to youngsters.  My point is, it isn't where you start in life that counts, it is where you end up.  So, believe in yourself, work hard, study hard, believe that anything is possible, and always do your best.  Remember that your past is not necessarily your future.

     

The Street Sweeper

The Street Sweeper

Colin Powell

Some years ago, there was a human interest segment about a street sweeper on the evening news.  I think he worked in Philadelphia.  He was a black gentleman and swept streets the old-fashioned way, with one of those wide, stiff bristle brooms and a wheeled garbage can.  He had a wife and several children and lived in a modest home.  It was a loving family, and he had high ambitions for his children.  He enjoyed his job very much and felt he was providing a worthwhile service to his community.  He had only one professional ambition in life and that was to get promoted to drive one of those mechanized street sweepers with big round brushes.

He finally achieved his ambition and was promoted to driving a street sweeping machine.  His wife and children were proud of him.  The television piece closed with him driving down the street; a huge smile on his face.  He knew who he was and what he was.

I run that video piece through my mind every few months as a reality check.  Here is a man happy in his work, providing an essential service for his community, providing for his family, who love and respect him.  Have I been more successful in what is truly important in life than he has been?  No, we have both been fortunate.  He has touched all the important bases in the game of life.  When we are ultimately judged, despite my titles and medals, he may have a few points on me, and on a lot of others.

Michelle's Personal Statement

Personal Statement

Internal Medicine Residency Program

After famously becoming the world Jeopardy champion, IBM’s supercomputer Watson went on to “medical school”. He memorized textbooks, medical journals, and databases, and eventually earned himself the title of “World’s Greatest Diagnostician”. Sometimes, medicine seems so highly algorithmic that it’s easy to see how a robot might outperform a human: it’s consistent, it’s objective, and most importantly, it doesn’t forget. However, I firmly believe in the unique advantage of the human factor, which is especially evident in Internal Medicine. Our diagnoses can be serpentine and elusive, and our management is complex and multi-factorial. Many of our patients are chronic, requiring robust personal skills to build the quintessential trust that transforms a doctor into a healer. As primary caretakers both inside and outside of the hospital, we are uniquely positioned to help our patients shape their experience of illness and recovery. In all of this, there is undoubtedly a special space into which our humanity enters, and it is in this space that I find myself belonging.

 

I admire the ardent debate that transpires between brilliant colleagues, each reflecting on intuition and experience rather than a set of algorithmic rules. I’m excited by the curiosity that arises when I'm sitting at the junction of normal physiology and aberrant pathophysiology, inquiring into how one becomes the other. I’m amazed by that heart-pounding moment when my patient is riding the line between respiratory distress and respiratory failure, when only an inexplicable clinical instinct can act as an impetus for quick action. I value the art of gauging someone's understanding, which allows me to send a patient home not only with a prescription, but also a comprehension of his condition. I am humbled by instances of breaking bad news, when a patient’s vulnerability brings out my own and I am reminded of that common human thread that runs between us. There is always a place for acknowledging the vast distance between physician and patient – and respecting the differences therein – but nonetheless conveying that we are in this together.

These parts of Internal Medicine resonate with me deeply, and I am well prepared to engage with them. I spent my college years studying philosophy, passionately learning and debating about topics ranging from morality to metaphysics. By delving into philosophical arguments, dissecting them and reconstructing them, I developed a sharp intellectual intuition and a strong aptitude for critical thinking, both of which I use now to navigate through puzzles of disease and therapy. Through my love of writing – both as a hobby and an outlet – I’ve learned the importance of narrative and its role in helping us understand the human experience. Writing has afforded me insight into my own thoughts, behaviors, and motivations, and having this deeper understanding of myself has made me better at empathizing with my patients. Working with low-income and homeless populations through volunteer projects has taught me a great deal about relating to others - by sitting down with these folks and just listening, I’ve learned how to invest myself into another person's story and cherish it as a chance to understand a life vastly different from my own. The art of listening well, I believe, is an essential part of bridging that immense gap between doctor and patient.

With this background and perspective, I have built an excellent foundation for becoming an exceptional Internal Medicine resident. I am looking for a program with strong physician mentors that encourage intellectual curiosity and independent thinking - two traits that I value in my colleagues and in myself. At the same time, I greatly value camaraderie and a lively culture that will serve as a reminder for us to retain those distinctly human characteristics that make us so good at what we do.

Sherry's Wedding

In the mist of never-ending chaos, we managed to drop everything last night to attend Sherry's Wedding -- it was such a wonderful celebration, and of course, it made me stop and reflect...

Sherry, my niece, was born on 11/3/1988, 45 days after I came to this foreign land.  I remember getting pictures of baby Sherry from my brother all the time, and I cherished them greatly.  The attached photo was taken when Sherry was 5 months old, and I remember loving it so much that I eventually framed it and put it on my nightstand...

It's pretty unbelievable that Sherry got married last night and is turning 27 in November -- WOW!!

As you walk under the setting sun each night, listen to the cicadas and crickets singing their beautiful songs, does it occur to you how peaceful that moment is?  As another summer day is coming to an end, have you asked yourself -- did I live the life I love and love the life I live?

Youth is both wonderful and magical. I will never forget all the craziness I've been through when I was young... But the truth is -- we are still young and there are still adventures awaiting for us!!  

Sherry's Wedding

Adler Planetarium, Chicago

August 14, 2015

 

 

My photography career...

I can see my photography career going down the hill FAST!!

I used to fly around to get my shots, then I drove around to find photo ops, then I walked around to see what's easy to shoot, and finally, today, I stayed home and took the attached photo...  This is not representing a good trend -- I don't think!!!

The good news is: I am planning a trip to Canadian Rockies in late January or early February to photograph the air bubbles inside the icy lakes... and that will be a brutal fight between me and the deep, deep Canadian winter!!

Yesterday's Memory
 
Naperville, IL

August 8, 2015