If I hadn’t gone to Tomkins Square Park in 1968 to take pick-up photos for a book publisher’s edition on inner-city teenage gangs
If he hadn’t been in the park at exactly the same time when I was in danger from the gang
If he hadn’t been within eyeshot to see my imminent danger
If I hadn’t seen him dressed in black from head to toe, hair to his shoulders and his foot in a cast, looking like another gang member
If he hadn’t approached me and said, “leave with me before they kill you”
If he hadn’t told me that the gang feared him because they knew he was good with a knife
If I hadn’t walked out of the park with him
If I didn’t follow him back to the front steps of the tenement building where he and his wife lived
If he hadn’t offered me a beer
If I didn’t tell him I wanted to park my motorcycle for safety in front of his building instead of around the corner
If he hadn’t told me he had exactly the same motorcycle
If, in conversation, we didn’t realize we had the same birthday
If I hadn’t told him I had a summer cottage in the pre-festival town of Woodstock, north of New York City
If, two months later, his wife hadn’t asked him to get out of the apartment, take a ride and give her solitude to study for a university exam
If he hadn’t decided to head up the thruway to Woodstock on happen-chance to find me
If I hadn’t noticed another motorcycle coming in the opposite direction on country back road
If I hadn’t looked over my shoulder and he hadn’t done the same
If it wasn’t him on the opposing motorcycle and had he not recognized me
If we didn’t go back to my place and smoked a joint
If he hadn’t told me he was working as a photo assistant in a New York commercial photo studio
If he hadn’t asked me how to become a full time photographer
If I hadn’t told him the best way to achieve his goal was to attend the legendary Rochester Institute of Photography
If he hadn’t followed my advise, he and his wife, wouldn’t have packed up and moved to Rochester
If he hadn’t earned a degree of Master Of Fine Arts
If he hadn’t taken a position as professor at the prestigious Art Institute of Chicago
If I hadn’t moved to Canada and was recruited for a managerial position at Nikon Canada Inc.
If I hadn’t needed a qualified photographer to co-present the Nikon School of Photography with me
If I wasn’t able to move him and his wife from the USA to Toronto
If he didn’t presently live within walking distance from my home
If we weren’t able to con-celebrate birthdays
If we weren’t able to sip cappuccinos in his perfect back yard
If we often didn’t reminisce and reflect on our fortuitous crossing of paths back in Tomkins Square Park, East Village, New York City
If this didn’t happen because of imperfect synchronicity of time and place, he and I wouldn’t be here to celebrate fifty-two years of perfect friendship and brotherhood
Larry Frank Photo 