This poor soul was standing across the street from one of America's most iconic images of wealth and power: The Empire State Building. It was a hot July afternoon with temperatures hovering in the low 90s, yet there he was, wearing a winter coat and knit hat. He was also speaking softly and non-threateningly to himself and what ever demons haunted him.
I was there on the corner taking photographs (not only of him) and so I observed him. As far as I could tell, no one -- not the tourists hovering around the Empire State Building and not the New Yorkers rushing home from work -- noticed him. No one even glanced his way. He simply did not exist.