Post freelance photographer R. Umar Abbasi captured the dramatic moments before Ki Suk Han was struck by a downtown Q train. A day after the pictures were published, a flurry of criticism erupted — from other media and over social media like Twitter. He recounted the or
deal to The Post yesterday:
I was on an assignment, waiting for a train at the 49th Street subway platform, when I suddenly heard people gasping.
The announcement had come over the loudspeaker that the train was coming — and out of the periphery of my eye, I saw a body flying through the air and onto the track.
David McGlynn
'TOO FAR AWAY TO HELP': A day after snapping the slaying of a man pushed onto the tracks, photagrapher R. Umar Abbasi returns to the scene.
I just started running. I had my camera up — it wasn’t even set to the right settings — and I just kept shooting and flashing, hoping the train driver would see something and be able to stop.
I had no idea what I was shooting. I’m not even sure it was registering with me what was happening. I was just looking at that train coming.
It all went so quickly; from the time I heard the shouting until the time the train hit the man was about 22 seconds.
At the same time, the perp was running toward me. I was afraid he might push me onto the tracks.
The victim was so far away from me, I was already too far away to reach him when I started running.
The train hit the man before I could get to him, and nobody closer tried to pull him out.
What keeps playing over in my mind, what haunts me when I think back on it, is that the man did not scream at all.
I didn’t hear the man cry for help.
And then I was standing there, with this poor man, twisted like a rag doll, and it was so painfully hopeless.
A young doctor named Laura Kaplan came immediately. She was so brave, the way she remained calm. She asked if anyone knew CPR, and there was a man who kneeled down next to her who said, “I don’t know how to do it, but I will try if you tell me.”
And they just kept trying, even though there was no hope.
Then a crowd came over with camera phones and they were pushing and shoving, trying to look at the man and taking videos.
I was screaming at them to get back, so the doctor could have room because they were closing in on her; she thanked me.
I remember telling a woman — whom I later learned was the MTA chaplain — to give the man his last rites.
It was one of the most horrible things I have ever seen, to watch that man dying there.
When it was over, I didn’t look at the pictures.
I didn’t even know at all that I had even captured the images in such detail. I didn’t look at them. I didn’t want to.
It was just too emotional a day.
I brought the camera memory card back to the office and turned it in. Two detectives came and looked at the photos and I just sat in a chair.
When I finally looked at them late that night, my heart started racing. It was terrible, seeing it happen all over again.
I didn’t sleep at all.
All I can hear is that man’s head against that train: Boom! Boom! Boom!
I have to say I was surprised at the anger over the pictures, of the people who are saying: Why didn’t he put the camera down and pull him out?
But I can’t let the armchair critics bother me. They were not there. They have no idea how very quickly it happened.
They do not know what they would have done.
Before I went into the subway, I had been up in Times Square, and my camera was still set for outside lighting. The flash was on 1/64th of a second, which would be split-second recharging.
People think I had time to set the camera and take photos, and that isn’t the case. I just ran toward that train.
The sad part is, there were people who were close to the victim, who watched and didn’t do anything. You can see it in the pictures.
The truth is I could not reach that man; if I could have, I would have.
But the train was moving faster than I could get there.
