Karen Hunter took this photo one day on her way home from work bicycling over the Brooklyn Bridge. She loved that Bridge and it had figured into her life in several ways. I've never forgotten how she looked, bounding down the street on her bicycle, past the bus, disappearing into the traffic as if she were just a part of the movement of the day itself. It scared me how quickly she did that. She beat me to Canal Street from 14 Street by train. I still don't understand how, but then again, I was taking the "N" train. It was just ONE STOP, but there was the wait and I've grown so accustomed to the latter I wouldn't even have noticed it. Still, I was totally shocked when I got out of the train, and there she was, off of her blue Montegue bike, helmet off, but ipod still in ears, giving me this really big wave, huge smile that was already slowly converting to a kiss and big hug, her whole body reeling the slow poke in. "Of course I beat you," she said.
Karen B. Hunter, Nov. 23. 1951 - Sept 2. 2005
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