The Boy Who Fooled New York

It's been said that New Yorkers are jaded and cynical, especially New York City police officers. Personally speaking, I don't think I'm terribly cynical and I might even admit to being more than a little gullible at times. As for the New York City Police Department, well, the media's devoted enough attention to them in the last few years so I'll leave that for history to decide. But if it is true that New Yorkers are jaded, the following story had us all fooled, at least for a day or two. Perhaps the story pointed out the need for something to believe in, some inherent goodness in a world gone awry with tragedy.

Several weeks ago, I was assigned to go to the 43^rd Precinct where young Edwin Sabillon, a Honduran boy was being held and a press conference was about to take place. His mother and brother had reportedly died in Hurricane Mitch and he was to have met his father who lived in New York, on a prearranged day after having made an incredible 2,000 mile odyssey, from Honduras to New York, walking, hitching rides, and managing to beguile bus tickets out of complete strangers. At the police news conference, every newspaper and wire service was there; every tv and cable station. There were people from Immigration and Naturalization; there were people from the Honduran Embassy; there were people from Child Protective Services. There were cameramen and still photographers; there were reporters all over this story. There was an air of incredulity. The taxi driver who had found Edwin, who had bought him roller blades, and had taken him home briefly before calling police, was there. He wanted to adopt young Edwin.

The news conference yielded information, but not young Edwin, whom we knew was upstairs in a room with dozens of people interviewing him. We knew they had to bring him downstairs soon, but the police insisted they would not bring him out while the media was there. They seemed uncharacteristically protective of the young boy, and all we wanted was a picture. So, the police gave us a polaroid, which, one by one, 2 dozen photographers photographed with our macro lenses.

Copy photo of Polaroid of Edwin Sabillon provided to the media by the NYPD.

The police spokesperson insisted the boy would NOT be brought out until much later, in spite of one detective telling us he'd be coming down in 5 or 10 minutes. A half hour later, much of the media swell had diminished as the networks were going live with broadcasts outside the precinct house. There were maybe 5 or 6 still photographers at the precinct. A short time later, a detective gave us a thumbs up sign and within seconds, the remaining photographers had mobilized in the precinct house to get a shot of the kid.

To my complete surprise, it was like a perp walk. Edwin was surrounded by cops. Unfortunately, I was off to the right and, it turned out, not in the best position to get a photograph of the kid as he was whisked out to a waiting limousine. I left feeling completely deflated at my inability to get the shot, although I did have a copy shot, and lots of the press conference pictures.

The taxi driver that found young Edwin Sabillon, wanted to adopt him.

I was mesmerized by the story. I had seen the boy and heard the story as told by New York City Police Officers. I read the accounts in the New York papers the following day and the writing was beautiful. For sure there were some inconsistencies in the kid's story, but not enough to keep any newspaper from reporting what they knew of the story, the details of which, had only begun to emerge as newspapers were going to press. New York has its share of tough cops and tough kids and bad attitudes and disbelievers. But this kid, this one kid, Edwin Sabillon, whose real story lies somewhere between fact and fiction, whose real story is as tragic as the one he made up, highlighted that we're not all as cynical as we think we are. In reality, Edwin's story, was not far from Edwin's fantasy and the writer's retelling.

Edwin was hustled out of the police station, like a perp walk, to a waiting car, with representatives from Children's Services, the Honduran Embassy, and Immigration and Naturalization. Photos (c) 1999 Susan B. Markisz for The New York Times

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