“You graduate from university, then you have to find a job with a big corporation,” said Mr. Fujimoto, 64, now with gray hair and a beard that is slowly turning white. “I didn’t like that kind of thing.”
So in 1977, at age 28, with no contacts and minimal English skills, he packed up his cameras and moved to the United States to study fine art photography at the San Francisco Art Institute. After graduating, he moved to New York and eventually settled on Staten Island, where he lives, by himself, to this day.
Aside from his time in college, he has lived alone for the past 36 years. “I feel more comfortable living all by myself,” he said. But his independent spirit was tested when Hurricane Sandy swept through his neighborhood last year, flooding his basement apartment. Mr. Fujimoto suffered an electric shock and a minor stroke and nearly died. Oct. 29, 2012, began as a fairly normal day for Mr. Fujimoto. He was working with photographic lighting equipment in the living room of his apartment, in the South Beach neighborhood of Staten Island, about a half-mile from the waterfront.
“I didn’t have a TV so I didn’t get much information about Hurricane Sandy,” he said. Mr. Fujimoto said nobody told him to evacuate, so he stayed put. “No one knocked on the door.”
When the storm surge hit that night, water began gushing in from underneath his front door. He had been working with a flash generator and softbox, and there were electrical cords running across his living room floor.
Mr. Fujimoto dashed to his bedroom and attempted to unplug the lighting equipment before the water could reach it. “I grabbed the two cords and tried to disconnect,” he said. “Then I got a big shock.”
“I screamed and then I fell down on the floor,” Mr. Fujimoto continued. “Then I saw blue light all over my body. The electricity shut down, so I survived.”
The shock left him with burns on his body, particularly his legs. He was disoriented and confused. Mr. Fujimoto staggered around the dark apartment amid floating furniture. He felt his apartment had become unsafe and considered leaving, but his mind was not clear, Mr. Fujimoto said. “The outside looked more dangerous than the inside,” he said. Unable to see well without his eyeglasses, and fearful of being shocked again if he ventured outdoors, he decided to remain in his flooded living room as the water level crept higher up his chest.
Mr. Fujimoto’s apartment looked “like the inside of a blender,” he said. As furniture and kitchen items swirled around him, he spent the rest of the night trying to keep his head above water, leaning against his front door to make sure it stayed closed. He drifted in and out of consciousness.
Mr. Fujimoto had suffered a stroke, which clouded his thinking and made it difficult for him to move or call for help, he said.
During the surge, water levels on his street reached up to four or five feet, according to neighbors. After a few terrifying hours, the water subsided.
His landlord, Frank Byrnes, recalled finding Mr. Fujimoto lying “in a puddle, in a foot of water,” and called for an ambulance.
Mr. Fujimoto was hospitalized at Staten Island University Hospital for the next 37 days, bouncing between the intensive care unit and the burn ward. His interactions with the hospital staff were complicated; he had difficulty speaking and did not have health insurance.
The damage to his home was significant. Most of his possessions were destroyed, including many of the photographs he had taken throughout his career. His clothes and furniture were ruined.
Catholic Charities Archdiocese of New York, one of the seven organizations supported by The New York Times Neediest Cases Fund, provided Mr. Fujimoto with a $ 500 grant to buy a new winter jacket, clothes and shoes to replace the ones he lost in the storm.
The group also offered assistance in the form of case workers, like Marvin Walker, a disaster case manager who helped Mr. Fujimoto register for Access-A-Ride, the public transit service for disabled people and older passengers, and apply for food stamps.
Mr. Walker checks in with Mr. Fujimoto, now back at home, on a regular basis, and the two have become friends. Mr. Walker has given him a playful nickname, Fooj, and offers encouraging words, like: “You’re not a victim, you’re a survivor.”
Mr. Fujimoto became misty-eyed as he talked about the people who helped him recover after the storm.
“It changed my perspective for life,” he said.
“If you have bad luck, you can be a victim, easy,” he added. “But good people, those angels and heroes, they have to have some special quality inside.”
Yahoo Local News – New York Times
http://newyork.greatlocalnews.info/?p=18211
via Great Local News: New York http://newyork.greatlocalnews.info
