received her first camera on her fifteenth birthday, and her life changed forever. After that, there was no doubt in her mind what she wished to do with her life, already consumed by the dream to become a photojournalist, and travel the world.
As fate would have it, her mother’s timely remarriage provided Mary Jo with the means to attend college. With her step-father’s encouragement and financial support, she applied to attend the Rochester Institute of Technology, and was accepted into the School of Photographic Arts and Sciences, one of the four schools within the College of Imaging Arts and Sciences at R.I.T. For Mary Jo, it was a dream come true. Although her mother was not overly keen about the prospect of sending her off alone, she acquiesced, and Mary Jo bade farewell, moving to Rochester to commence her studies.
Her first impressions of the bleak, red-brick architecture to be her home for the next four years were less than favorable, immediately understanding why students irreverently referred to the sprawling edifices as Brick City. But it was not until Mary Jo first experienced the infamous quarter mile walkway between the dorms and the academic buildings during her first Winter, that she appreciated the derogatory comments regarding the campus architectural layout.
As a freshman, Mary Jo was obliged to share accommodations with fellow students. She elected to dorm with others in what was known as Photo House, as there were special interest floors which provided dark-rooms and studios for the students, where Mary Jo came to spend endless hours, engrossed in the practical applications of her studies.
Mary Jo had selected this college after considerable examination of her own expectations. She had learned that R.I.T. had earned national prominence in her field of choice, and was greatly impressed when she read that so many of the college’s graduates in photojournalism had won prestigious Pulitzer Prizes for their work. This, in association with the fact that Rochester had achieved recognition as the Image Capital of the world, with such established names as Kodak, Xerox, and Bausch & Lomb head-quartered there, left little doubt in Mary Jo’s mind that she had made the right choice.
At R.I.T., Mary Jo threw herself into her studies. The demanding four year degree course program in contemporary journalism provided her not only with practical experience in documenting real-life events, but a depth of knowledge in the mechanics and history of photography as an art.
For Mary Jo, life outside class had also been fulfilling. R.I.T. offered fraternities, sororities and organizations which catered to the multi-cul-tured student body’s interests, and Mary Jo found herself at home within this new, and exciting environment, expanding her interests and circle of friends both on, and off campus.
Her extra-curricula activities in no way affected her studies. If anything, these enhanced her view of the world, providing Mary Jo with a sound perspective of the social and political environment in which she lived. She enjoyed participating in most sports, but her preference for the swimming pool consumed the greater part of her leisure hours.
When her mother visited Rochester, Mary Jo had taken her to the world-famous George Eastman House, the mansion having been turned into an international museum of photography and film. Mary Jo wanted to explain something of her love for this science. Unfortunately, her mother did not share Mary Jo’s enthusiasm, or interest, strolling away out of earshot before her daughter had the opportunity to explain something of what she had learned of the wonders and technological leaps her field had seen in her lifetime. Mary Jo had been deeply disappointed. She had wanted to share, but her mother’s obvious disdain turned the visit into disaster, and they had fought, the exchange raising eyebrows with those within range. Subsequent to this visit, outside semester breaks and an occasional birthday call, Mary Jo rarely communicated with her mother, both gradually growing indifferent to the other’s needs, each content with the waning relationship which had crept, unobserved, into their lives.
Mary Jo’s leisure time was mainly spent alone, wandering around the historical centers of the Woodside Museum and the Gothic cottages district with her camera in hand. It was during one such outing that she met a young research science graduate and experienced her first affair. It had been a brief and disappointing relationship, leaving her feeling empty and used. During their second date, they had driven to Niagara Falls where, consumed by the magnificent spectacle and overpowering force of nature’s work, she had willingly surrendered herself to his eager hands, their coupling completed and her date half-dressed, before Mary Jo had even recognized what had transpired. For a time, she retreated to her studies, satisfied to bury herself in activities associated with the demanding, practical applications of photojournalism studies.
Mary Jo had chosen to remain in the dorms right through to graduation.
If anything, she felt a little guilty that her step-father had never once questioned her seemingly endless requests for funds, and decided to apply for a position as a resident adviser in her third year. The quid pro quo required that in consideration for her board, she helped take care of students on her floor. Mary Jo found offering advice, even counseling students not much younger than herself, thoroughly rewarding. The small stipend she received provided her with a sense of accomplishment, knowing that this lessened her dependency on others, and in her final year she took on tutoring.
It soon became apparent to R.I.T. staff that Mary Jo had a most promising talent and they encouraged her in every way. Her practical achievements attracted considerable praise and upon graduation, the Dean arranged a position for her with a mid-western daily. But it was her childhood dreams of travel that continued to drive Mary Jo forward, her restlessness resulting in a reluctant chief-of-staff agreeing to introduce her to an associate in New York, who placed her on probation for three months at the respected news agency. To Mary Jo’s great satisfaction, she excelled and flourished in the Big Apple’s exciting and challenging environment. Mary Jo’s dedication and skill firmly ensconced her within the media corps, and soon became recognized as one of the finest journalists in her profession.
At twenty-three, Mary Jo’s reputation was already well established. Her circle of acquaintances and friends revolved around the competitive media industry and, although she enjoyed a number of brief, sexual skirmishes, she had no real desire to settle down. It therefore came as some surprise to Mary Jo when she fell passionately in love, the whirlwind romance leaving her giddier than even she thought possible. When Eric Fieldmann entered her life, the high-profile, foreign correspondent had swept her away, and Mary Jo gave herself completely, convinced that he was the one.
Her world took on an entirely new meaning. Mary Jo’s friends smiled knowingly whenever she spoke of her lover and their moments together, observing the young, love-stricken woman’s metamorphosis most had experienced whilst still in their teens. Mary Jo’s demeanor softened, her perspectives acquired new dimensions and her attitude towards her career took an unexpected turn. She was earnestly in love and did not care who knew it. To her, Eric Fieldmann was everything she could possibly want in a lover and companion. He was handsome, witty and highly respected by his peers. His voice, smell and their lovemaking constantly invaded her thoughts, every minute of the day. Mary Jo moved her things into his Soho apartment and canceled the lease on her own. She was deliriously happy, and ecstatic when her lover announced that he had decided to settle down.
The affair lasted six months, ending only when distance finally took its toll during a prolonged separation. Fieldmann accepted a position as bureau chief in Rio, and although he had asked Mary Jo to accompany him, the invitation did not come with a ring. Had he proposed, she would have willingly sacrificed her career and followed Eric to South America.
Instead, she declined, deeply distressed that their relationship would end, bitter when he left, without a promise that he might return.
She became introspective and moody. Depressed, Mary Jo often stressed herself beyond acceptable limits and her work suffered, the symptoms easily recognized by friends and workplace associates. Sometimes she would phone Eric at home in Rio just to hear his voice, wishing that their conversations
