Dear Judgement, I am at a fancy event in New York City. It has table settings, floral centerpieces, and an open bar. Another photographer who I don’t know–the one who takes the candids of guests–is talking and his voice sounds slurred. “I can’t believe he’s drunk,” I think. Oh judgement how right I thought I was. How dare he? It’s the end of the night and we’re packing up. I feel a tap on my shoulder and a slow, slurred voice. It’s the drunk photographer. “I just wanted to introduce myself,” he says. “I love your photograph of Steve Gleason.” Judgement, if you don’t know, Steve Gleason is a famous football player who now is living with ALS. I’ve taken a somewhat famous Dear World photo of him where he has No White Flags written on his arm. “Sorry,” the man says with a slur, “Would you take my picture?” “I have ALS, too,” and I love the photograph you took of Steve Gleason, he is a big inspiration in my life.” Judgement, vocal chords weaken in ALS patients, making people— you guessed it— sound drunk. Maybe it’s the sheer guilt, shame and embarrassment coming over me at once but I shower him with love. I hug him longer than strangers hug and all I can think is what an absolute jerk I am. He tells me he’s raised tens of thousands of dollars for ALS by selling Pickles. “PickALS,” he says. “Get it?!” We laugh, we cry and I take his photo. It’s a testament to the life he’s living out as best he can. We never speak again, but exchange emails when I send him his photo. I tell his story years after his death to 1,000 people at Steve Gleason’s Gala. Most of the talks that night are about Steve and people’s relationship to him. When everyone zigs, I decide to zag. I talk about you Judgement. And how I won’t ever judge anyone by their proverbial shoes, because I did it to a beautiful guy named Arthur Cohen, who raised hundreds of thousands of dollars to help find a cure for a terrible disease by selling pickles. The night moves on but in the quiet moments where people come up to me, I can feel that we’ve all ran to you Judgement too quickly, with fire in our bellies. So the next time I feel you coming on, I”m going to look for a jar of pickles instead. I’m gonna eat em and honor Arthur–the Pickel man.
Arthur Cohen was a photographer, husband, father, and the creator of PickALS, a grassroots movement that turned a backyard hobby into a force for good. After being diagnosed with ALS in 2013, Cohen transformed his passion for making pickles into a mission—launching PickALS to raise money and awareness for ALS research. As the disease progressed, he refused to retreat. Instead, he built a community around purpose, humor, and action—selling thousands of jars and raising significant funds to fight the illness that would eventually take his life in 2017. Cohen is remembered not for his diagnosis, but for what he did with it: turning limited time into meaningful impact, and leaving behind a legacy defined by resilience, creativity, and generosity. To learn more or be more inspired watch the short documentary Pickle Man here.
Write your future, Robert PS: Want to forward or share this story to someone who might need it? Use the same link: https://stories.dearworld.com/book/dear-judgment