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I'm pretty close to some of the people involved in this strike so I had gotten a tip that they were going to do another sit-in. The sit-in was planned for 1:15 p.m. so I got there at 12:45, proud of the fact that I was ahead of the game for once, instead of frantically trying to catch up because I'm always running late.
I was sitting in one of the chairs in the lobby, waiting for the students to walk-in for their sit-in. I was keeping a very low-profile because I did not want to be recognized by any of the office workers, who would no doubt have remembered me as that annoying photographer jumping all over their furniture three weeks earlier.
My camera was tucked away in my small camera bag, which is what I use when I want to be discrete. I was reading a newspaper, making sure that it covered my face.
Then I looked to my left and this man dressed as a very spirited college student was staring right at me. We stared at each other for three long seconds and it suddenly clicked to me that this guy is a cop.
Next thing I know, the cop stands up with his walkie talkie suddenly blaring, locks the doors down and announces a security concern. Two other undercover cops are roaming the hallways. One has a bulge around his ankle. The other I recognize as being in uniform three weeks earlier. I know they knew who I was, but they didn't say anything to me at first.
I quickly made a phone call to alert about the cops. The message gets relayed to the students. I receive a call from a student. We're on our way anyway. I repeat that the cops are waiting for them. They're coming anyway.
So at this point, I pull out the camera, slide on the flash and put the strap around my neck, thinking that this is going down any moment now. I'm hiding the camera with the newspaper just to not give these cops an excuse to kick me out. My hearts beating the way it always does when I know all hell is about to break loose. I live for these moments.
But after ten minutes, the students still had not arrived. Then finally one the cops walks up to me and kicks me out. You have to leave. Now. Unlike the last time when I got kicked out, I didn't bother fighting it. I just stood up and walked out, wondering how the cops knew about the sit-in (I've since determined they've been monitoring the students' e-mails, but I have not proven it yet).
So as I walk out the building, I remove the flash and put the camera back into my bag, thinking nothing is going to happen. I am walking away from the building when I get a call from one of the students. Her name is Katharine. She is the one getting tossed out in the top-left picture.
But all I hear is static and commotion, so I'm like, "Katharine, I can't hear you, you're cutting in and out."
I'm still walking away from the building nonchalantly because this type of phone conversation is very common with my cell phone. I'm thinking Katharine is going to tell me they're hold up in some classroom trying to figure out what to do.
I'm about 500 feet from the building when I hear: "Why are we getting kicked out?"
And that was when I realized she had been calling from the same lobby that I had just gotten kicked out from. The students had snuck in from an upstairs door, the only door the cops were not guarding.
So I ran back to the front of the building, unzipping my camera bag, cursing myself for having removed the flash, and started snapping away, not even able to put the camera strap around my neck, which is always dangerous in those chaotic situations as someone is liable to slap the camera out of my hands.
And that is how I got the picture of Katharine getting tossed out of the building.
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