The Last Commute

From where it all began, Staten Island, I drove into work the morning of Monday, February 25, 2019.
The flood of thought and emotion has yet to subside. Later in the week my family and friends would gather for a festive evening. But not before I attended mass for a fallen hero.  A heartbreaking loss.

What follows here are a few snapshots and musings from my last week on the best job I ever had: serving the people of the City of New York. Along with a tribute to not only a great inspector, but also an amazing man.

SIE at sunrise

Damon start of last tour.

“I am, I said. But no one cared. “

Neil Diamond.

Not just leaving a job, but leaving. Leaving New York. A place of supreme pain and ultimate pleasure. The portal of possibility. Emerald City. My family. My home.

New York gets into your blood. Under your skin, it can torture and delight you all at once. Drive you insane with pleasure. Enrage you with envy. Misshape you with avarice.

NYC. The ultimate amphetamine. Adrenaline rushes that last for weeks. Months. Years.

NYC. Powerfully seductive. A barbiturate. Hallucinogenic opiate. Her old bones and new glass. Her power to create and to destroy the very molecules of dreams.

A place of unlimited and towering success. The nadir of failure. Heights reaching for the stars. Depths unfathomable to the gentle and naive. Love more powerful than time. Hate malignant and terrible.

For every action, equal and opposite ... lawless justice. Unkind civility. Camaraderie.

Greed.

Always Greed driving mad drivers forward faster and faster until, one day, their wheels come off. And the only way to insulate yourself from the excruciating pain is to surround yourself with people. Family. Friends. Strangers. And things. Work. Play. Houses. Boats. Cars. Clothes. Art. Jewelry. Or...

Booze. Drugs. Sex. All the addictive forces of nature and chemistry, (Yeah, chemistry. ) conspire to console a challenged mind, a broken heart, a despairing soul.

And in the end...yes. The love you make...but also, in the end...

   ... there is no end. 

Though we all come and go, The City remains.

“I am a rock, I am an Island.”

Paul Simon

The current Emergency Operations Center for DOB

Thomas Zurica and Jen-Scott Mobley

And amid my exit I am reminded of  life's real value. We lost Tommy Zurica. 59 years way too young, as he succumbed to his two year battle with brain cancer a week before my retirement. He coached me to the end on how to go about submitting my papers. These photos are from 2013 after receiving the Commissioners Award for Team Excellence. Tommy Z was the best of the best.

TZ and me.

(from L to R) Willie Blake, Damon, Lenny, and Tommy

(from L to R) Scoffield Smith, Damon Boccadoro, me, and Tommy.