Julius stormed Omaha Beach, Normandy in 1944.
It was D-Day.
But instead of being armed with a rifle, he was shooting with his motion picture camera. Documenting the horror.
I met him today at a nature preserve in Boynton Beach, Florida. He was taking photos of birds.
We talked about the war, about photography, and of course, about women.
We also enjoyed some silence together.
And then we laughed together too.
On the way out of the place, there are two water fountains next to each other.
I took the higher one and he took lower one because he was sitting on his motorized scooter (a tank blew up in front of him during the Battle of the Bulge and his leg took shrapnel – after he healed, and was sent back to battle, his film crew was gone – captured by the Nazis – he doesn’t know what happened to them).
I watched him drink from his fountain as I drank from mine.
He struggled a bit with it.
But all I saw there, in that frail body, drinking water, was me.
Underneath it all, we’re all the same.
Exactly the same.
And this world won’t heal, until we realize this. Collectively.
I promise you that.
thank you for sharing these moments with me,