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irelise · 6 years ago

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the yew tree - end!

Erik has worked with Sebastian Shaw ever since Shaw rescued him from human experimentation when he was a boy. He is reluctantly enlisted to assist in Shaw’s newest scheme: seducing the wealthy and enigmatic Lord Xavier to claim his vast fortune. With Shaw posing as Xavier’s doctor, Erik goes undercover as Xavier’s personal manservant to convince him to fall in love with Shaw.

But Xavier has secrets of his own, and it isn’t long before Erik starts having second thoughts about the whole thing…

Featuring mysteries, hidden agendas, and a whole heap of master/servant tropes. (the handmaiden inspired au - no canon knowledge required

part one and two now on ao3!

beginning of part 3)

Warnings for this part: References to past abuse Rating: M Word count: 1986 Notes: I CAN’T BELIEVE IT IT’S FINALLY FINISHED!!! special thanks to akasanata, steph, kernezelda, and gerec for the support, couldn’t have finished this on my own! I’ll be editing over the next few days and uploading to Ao3 soon!

The next few days stutter past in an odd series of mismatched rhythms. Sometimes the hours drag by, agonizingly slow. Other times, Erik feels like he has no time to even breathe with the amount of activity unravelling around him. Shaw’s body is handled with minimal fuss; the police rule it as an accident, drug overdose, case closed. Shaw is quietly and ignominiously forgotten by the humans.

Not so in the mutant community. Shaw’s death had left a power vacuum, and much of Erik’s time is now spent wrestling for control over the various factions now embroiled in petty squabbles. The safehouse becomes filled with the constant stink of sulphur as Azazel teleports in and out, ferrying messages and occasionally delivering a mutant for Erik to glare into submission.

“It would be easier if I just take you with me,” Azazel grumbles after one such delivery.

“Not a chance,” Erik replies shortly.

He can’t leave. Charles is still recuperating. He doesn’t wake at all that first day, and Erik would have been out of his mind with worry had their thoughts not remained so closely entwined with each other. Charles’ presence remains a warm glow at the back of his head, faint but steady.

He’ll be fine. He has to be.

The second day is worse. Midway through the afternoon, Erik is attacked by a flare of stabbing pain, fierce enough to drive him to his knees. He clutches at his head and bites back a groan – it’s like someone is driving a pick right between his eyes, like he’s being stabbed, his skull split open–

The pain stops abruptly. Charles’ presence vanishes with it.

Fuck. Taking the stairs two at a time, Erik slams into Charles’ room. “Charles!”

Charles had moved from where he was peacefully asleep earlier. Now, he’s a small, dark shape on the bed, curled into himself, the blankets drawn over his head. Erik crosses the room in quick strides. “You’re awake?”

“Unfortunately.” The word is muffled by the blankets. “Migraine.”

And that was that. The pain is bad enough this time that Charles has forming words, and he adamantly refuses to link his mind with Erik’s again. When Erik pictures his thoughts reaching out for Charles, Charles only shakes his head and winces. “I can’t stop myself from projecting the migraine,” he says tiredly, the stubborn martyr. “I don’t want you to share it.”

Erik would have pressed the point, but something about Charles softens his hard edges, and he reluctantly concedes the point. It doesn’t stop him from climbing into bed with Charles, a stack of reports in his lap.

When Charles reaches out to lace their fingers together, Erik lets him, absently running his thumb over the knuckles of Charles’ hand.

Charles’ migraine doesn’t abate that day, or the next. It’s not until the morning of the fourth day Erik wakes to find Charles smiling softly at him. He’s pale, his eyes smudged with dark circles, but the sight of him properly awake and alive is sweeter than Erik had ever imagined. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding in.

“You look tired,” Charles remarks, and it’s just like him to fret over Erik when he was the one who almost died from holding onto Shaw. Erik can’t help but laugh, just a touch reluctant, and shakes his head.

“I could say the same.” His voice is rough. He almost stops there, but then the words come spilling out: “I thought I lost you.”

A frown ripples over Charles’ face, then smooths into a look of resolve. “Shaw had to be stopped.”

“…He did.” And Erik would have killed him at the expense of his own life, but Charles’… Charles hasn’t even had the chance to truly live yet. He had demanded too much of him, he sees that now. “But I should have been more patient. Spent more time planning. Made sure you understood the dangers. What we did was incredibly risky.”

Still, he thinks about Shaw’s plans to consummate his sham marriage with Charles, and something cold and ugly twists in Erik’s gut.

Charles is scrutinizing him, his expression thoughtful but impossible to read. “I wouldn’t have said no to more time spent planning,” he finally says. “But, Erik, you mustn’t feel guilty. My choices were my own.”

“I know you didn’t want to kill Shaw.”

Charles’ mouth twists. “You didn’t force me into anything I didn’t want to do. Death is always a waste, yes, but for someone like Shaw…” He looks troubled, but only for a second. Then he looks Erik squarely in the eye. “I’ve been in his mind before. I’ve tried to reason with him. His pride and envy run deep, deeper than you can imagine. He would have never let you live. If it was a choice between him and you…”

Pressing his lips together, Charles shakes his head. “I don’t regret it,” he says with a sense of finality.

For a few moments, they sit together in thoughtful silence, then Erik asks: “Are you really going to go through with it?”

Four days ago – had it really only been four days? – during their telepathic conversation in the car, Charles had resolved to stop running away from Marko. More than that, he had resolved to fight back. Erik would have loved to track Marko down and kill him, but Charles already has plans. Plans that Erik isn’t sure he approves of, if he’s honest, but he concedes Charles has the right to his own revenge.

Justice, not vengeance, Charles had said into their shared link.

You’ll be ruining him either way.

Good.

Charles’ plan is a simple one on the surface: let the public know about Marko’s crimes. Drag his perversions into the light, his cruelty and his inhumanity. Let the public be his judge.

In the present, Charles is frowning. “Uncle and his associates cannot be allowed to walk free, you’ve convinced me of that. But informing the public of their crimes won’t just affect me. The truth about mutants may come out. Are we prepared for that?”

Erik had spent much of the last few days asking himself the same question. He has an answer now. “We’ve spent too long living in the shadows, in silence and in shame. Enough.”

“Do you think it’s that easy?”

“No. But I’ll fight to the last drop of blood to defend our people.”

“And you’d do the same for me,” Charles murmurs, sounding awed. He must have read the conviction from Erik’s thoughts.

Erik inclines his head, not seeing the need to say anything further.

“To be honest…” Charles exhales slowly, visibly steeling himself. “No, I don’t want to do this. Not everyone is going to believe me, you must know that, and many of them will be – unkind. But you’re right. I’m tired of the shame, Erik. I…”

He reaches out and Erik leans forward, allowing Charles to settle his fingers against his temples. Charles bites his lip.

Images rush into Erik’s mind. Suddenly they’re back in Marko’s twisted library again, then in the labs, only this time Erik is seeing himself from Charles’ perspective. It’s disorienting, made worse by the way the memories seem to skip around like a broken recording, weighed down by Charles’ fear and shame and despair. Erik sees himself raise a hand, sees an ugly wreckage of jagged steel and torn pages, red splattering everywhere. Charles’ memories don’t shy away from the violence of the scene. But rather than horror, Erik’s fury seemed to have inspired something else in Charles, muted and wavering but warm all the same.

Hope.

4. BUSINESS MOGUL KURT MARKO FACES ALLEGATIONS OF SEXUAL ABUSE AND TORTURE FROM HIS NEPHEW The reclusive young Lord Xavier of Westchester breaks his silence today, stepping forward to accuse his uncle and legal guardian…[…]…Police investigations of the ancestral Xavier estate have revealed the presence of numerous obscene materials…[…]…Lord Xavier has also levied accusations at multiple business associates connected to Marko…

***

The water is at the perfect temperature. His limbs loose and languid with a pleasant post-coital haze, Charles relaxes deeper into the bathtub, smiling in drowsy contentment at the noises of Erik splashing around behind him. Eventually, Erik settles down, and Charles makes a pleased sound as Erik cards his fingers through his hair, scratching against his sensitive scalp with just the right amount of pressure.

“Oh yes, do that again, please.”

Erik obliges, and for a few minutes everything else melts away except for the comfort of Erik’s body bracketed around his, hot water lapping against their skin. But then Charles feels the gears of Erik’s mind clicking, purposeful and precise.

“I was going over some reports with Azazel earlier,” Erik’s voice is carefully even. “I don’t know if you’ve heard yet, but Kurt Marko will be going up for trial soon.”

Charles winces slightly, half-wishing that Erik wouldn’t talk about Uncle here, but that’s a childish thought. “I’ve heard,” he says, every bit as carefully neutral as Erik had been. “Several of his associates may be facing criminal charges as well.”

He hears a splash of water as Erik shrugs. “Not that it matters. Most likely they’ll all be let off the hook.”

“No faith in the justice system, my friend?”

“None at all.”

Charles can’t even disagree entirely, but as always, he opts for the diplomatic approach. “Well, do let’s at least give them a chance to get things right. Whichever way the trial goes, Uncle will no longer be a threat to us.”

“How are things with the lawyers?”

“Everything has been finalised. The estate, the fortune – they’re all under my name once more.”

Vicious satisfaction flares in Erik’s mind, but the motions of his hands are gentle against Charles’ scalp. “Good.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?”

“You could put the estate to good use.”

Erik chuckles. His breath tickles the back of Charles’ neck, sending a pleasant shiver up his spine. “What would I need a mansion for?”

“Think about it,” Charles insists. He turns to face Erik fully. “We – you could make it a safe haven. For mutants. You told me before that you’ve rescued children before. The mansion could be a safe place for them, or for anyone injured or unable or otherwise unwilling to fight. You’ve been there, you know there’s more than enough room for everyone.”

Erik studies him with dark eyes. “And what will you be doing while all of that is going on?”

Trust Erik to cut to the heart of the matter. Charles looks down, watching the way rivulets of water run down Erik’s skin. “I haven’t quite decided yet.”

But he doesn’t want to go back to the mansion. Not yet, anyway.

Erik is still watching him, and Charles takes some comfort from the familiar, metronomic tick of Erik’s mind as he works through a problem. “I think it’s a good idea,” he says finally. “I’ll talk to Emma and Azazel about getting something set up.”

“You’re not doing it yourself?”

“No.” The tiniest hint of a smile is playing around the edges of Erik’s mouth. His mind is a dizzying, intoxicating mix of fondness and determination. “I have other business I need to take care of. Shaw had a rather extensive overseas network. Now that things are settling down here, I’d like to continue dismantling his empire.”

Overseas. Somewhere Charles will be unknown, just another anonymous face in the crowd. No reporters dodging his steps, no one watching him with the sort of greedy and scorn that makes him feel as if he’s being flayed apart.

“Is that,” Charles’ tongue darts out to wet his lips, “an invitation?”

Erik’s smile broadens. “Come with me, Charles.”

The thought of refusing never crosses Charles’ mind. He leans in for a kiss, which Erik swiftly deepens, and for the first time, Charles allows himself to dream of the future.

#cherik #xmfc #my writing

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altsalvationhq · 5 years ago

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It’s been an hour since the last child fell.

Some tried returning, others are grieving or lost, but the whole of the emotions to the newcomers is despair and anger. And while the paramedics are still looking for the injured to help and our heroes are trying to gather information from the children to know how best to assist them the sound of what can only be described as an Earth-shattering rumble is both felt and heard.

Everyone stops and stares at the hole in the sky. A wave of bright crackling fire envelopes the mirrored city above them and swallows it whole. Like an ocean wave, it covers everything and splashes around the rims of the opening. Whatever is stopping people from re-entering through the hole, is also preventing the destruction from that world from getting out. The world continues to burn until the hole and the world eventually fizzle and fade out.

What probably took months or a year to transpire for the kids and their family seems to be done in a few long moments. The flames pass, there is nothing but quiet and a large black abyss. What was there is gone and the blackest of skies a universe can have is shown as the portal slowly closes.

All of New York witnessed the end of a world. And the children witnessed the loss of their home and lives as they knew them once to be.

AFTERMATH

Most of New York was hit by the freak lightning strikes and has suffered some major structural damage. Some roads have been blocked by rubble and people have been trapped in their homes. Police are coordinating with rescue personnel to help clear paths and make sure people can get to and from safety as quickly as possible. Some schools are currently being used as shelters for the moment, hospitals are filling up, the military has been called in for support.

A lot of government officials are questioning what is going and want to know what the world hoppers have to say for themselves however where our heroes have learned and stopped treating the children as hostiles the soldier have not and will not see them that way. They are under orders to arrest and interrogate those they catch. S.H.I.E.L.D has gotten word about this and sent a message to our heroes. On top of that, news outlets are beginning to report on the situation worldwide, though not much has been said aside from what was seen at the event.

Children who have fallen and are injured are being seen too but with what information has been gathered by our heroes they have decided to herd all the children they can together and get them somewhere safe where they can learn more information. Currently, there are two places of shelter for the children have been provided by Tony Stark and Charles Xavier.

HOUSING

Avengers Mansion is an enormous mansion, a city block wide-scale mansion in Manhattan with three floors, to basements, as well as many other amendments that you might see at the Avengers compound. Tony Stark has bought and set up this facility with his AI JOCASTA running the ins and outs of it when he’s not around. Children are invited to stay here especially those of the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D members. There is a floor each dedicated for boys dorms and girls dorms and upon moving in, everyone will be randomly assigned roommates.

As an alternative to the Mansion, Charles Xavier has opened the doors of his School for Gifted Youngsters, but due to having less space compared to the Mansion, the school is only open to mutants. Like the situation Avengers Mansion, the School will be doing dorms as well, randomly assigning roommates to those who choose to stay there.

While it isn’t mandatory that children choose to stay at either shelter, it’s highly recommended, at least until they manage to get on their feet. A big concern is making sure everyone is off the streets -- it’s February, so even though spring may be here soon, it’s still cold.

NOTABLE AREAS

The Avengers Mansion has three floors, a basement and a sub-basement. Part of the third floor is designated for quinjets, computerized navigation aids, radar and communication systems. The other part of it has been changed to the boy’s dorm. The second floor houses the girl’s dorms, as well as any other private quarters for members of the Avengers who have requested it. The main floor and grounds contains the kitchen and dining facilities and a library. The backyard has a garden and patio as well as enough foliage to ensure privacy and security. There is a security system on the property, as well as a fence, intended to keep intruders out. The basement contains recreational, training and medical facilities -- a gym, a pool, game room and combat simulation room. The sub-basement is primarily used as a lab, but also contains a meeting room and the Avengers’ computer system.

Located outside of Salem Center in Westchester County, Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. The grounds have large, open fields with a surrounding wooded area and a lake. The school itself contains two floors, a basement and two sub-basements. The ground floor contains the kitchen, dining area, living room, library, classrooms and Professor X’s office. The second floor is dedicated to the dormitories. The basement is primarly used for storage, laundry and various power systems. The first sub-basement is used by the staff of the school with their own dormitories and also houses the medical facilities, a gym, a pool and a lab. The second sub-basement is used for the X-Men, containing the Danger Room and Cerebro, as well as various meeting rooms. The X-Men sub-basement is non-accessible to anyone who isn’t an X-Man, though access to the Danger Room may be allowed if you’re accompanied by one of them.

OOC NOTES

You are more than welcome to continue past threads, but please refrain from starting new event-related ones!

Please message us to let us know whether or not your characters will be taking up residence at the mansion or the school !! Keep in mind that, due to the smaller scale of the school, that’s specifically for mutants. Your muses don’t have to stay here, but it is heavily encouraged!

#alts.event #alts.important

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thedae · 8 years ago

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3 Digital Camera Settings to Take Better Photos

How do I take better photos…

with my DSLR camera? You might be surprised to hear the answer. Do you want to create beautiful, lasting memories of family functions, sporting events and other meaningful events in your family’s life? Simply knowing the tools at your disposal will help you take high-quality photos with that DSLR you’re keeping on auto. Here are 3 settings you need to know to take…

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#"dslr camera manual"#"DSLR photography"#"scarsdale adult school"#"what is aperture?"#"what is ISO?"#"what is shutter speed?"#aperture #chappaqua #classes for adults #digital photography #larchmont #photography #westchester county #westchester library system #white plains

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playchoices · 7 years ago

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Inside Choices | It Lives Beneath

It's October, and you know what that means: Spooks and scares and the launch of It Lives Beneath! Turn off the lights, turn up the sound, and tune into It Lives Beneath for the fright of your life... But before that, let's talk to our resident horror writers!

Now that we've left the woods for Pine Springs, what's happening in It Lives Beneath?

Kathleen: It Lives Beneath is set in the same world as It Lives in the Woods, but with a new town, new cast, and new monsters hiding around every corner. You play as a college student who has no experience with the supernatural... that is, until <SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER> happens. You quickly find yourself thrown in the deep end, as it were, questioning the very nature of your reality. In this book, we really wanted to build on the mythology of the Power that we established in Book 1.

Will we see any old friends from It Lives in the Woods in this book? (And by that, I mean, where's Andy Kang?)

Kathleen: I don't want to give away too much, but I will say that while we've moved on to a new setting, life has continued on in the little town of Westchester. You may see familiar faces here and there, and an old friend may show up to offer help in a time of need. It all depends on where you left things at the end of Book 1!

So, a new story means a new cast, new friends, and new people to date! Who's your favorite date-able character?

Kathleen: Tom, no question. He's a total nerd, but he's also an extremely thoughtful guy and the most loyal friend you'll ever meet. Honestly, I've been waiting for this ever since we first got his art back and said "Oh no... he's hot." (We tried to make him look dorky by adding glasses, but it only made him stronger!)

Brandon: Probably Imogen. I love all of our children equally, but she's really fun to write for. And Imogen's character art is just *chef's kiss*. Major props to our art team!

It Lives in the Woods introduced a particularly harrowing Nerve score system. Will there be more of that in It Lives Beneath? What are you looking forward to players encountering?

Brandon: Nerve scores will be returning, though the system won't be exactly the same as players remember. Without spoiling too much, one of our goals for It Lives Beneath was for Nerve to have more of an effect throughout the whole book, rather than the final fates at the end. (But rest assured, you and all your friends can totally still die.)

Kathleen: What Brandon said. When we rolled out the Nerve score in Book 1, we learned a lot about what worked well and what could use improvement. Hopefully, the tweaks we made will make Nerve even more compelling in Book 2!

I've definitely seen some pretty terrifying stuff from It Lives Beneath. (Thanks for the nightmare fodder, guys.) On a scale of 1-10, how scary would you rate this book?

Nicky: 10/10. We went above and beyond with the scariness for Book 2, and I think we’re gonna knock everybody’s socks off!

Brandon: In Ancient Rome, the numeral XVII was considered a sign of omen, as its letters could be rearranged to spell the word "VIXI" — Latin for "my life is over". So I'd give it a 17.

Kathleen: *High-pitched evil cackling*

Any final tips for readers as they plunge into the terrifying world of It Lives Beneath?

Kathleen: I've been told that this book should not, under any circumstances, be played at night.

Brandon: Practice holding your breath.

Nicky: Get ready to scream!

Eep! Hope you're all ready for the latest terrifying addition to the Choices library! And stay tuned for more news and magickal (yes, magick with a k) sneak peeks from The Elementalists!

-Jessica

#playchoices #inside choices #it lives beneath #game writing #long post #it lives in the woods

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maryannmccarra-fitzpatrick · 2 years ago

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#Crestwood

#Riverfront

#GrintonIWill

#Yonkers

#YonkersPublicLibrary

#YonkersNY

#ChildrensPrograms

#WLS

#WestchesterLibrarySystem

https://www.ypl.org/events/month

#Crestwood #Crestwood NY #Crestwood New York #Yonkers #Yonkers NY #WLS #Westchester Library System #Tuckahoe #Yonkers Public Library #Thompson Street #16 Thompson Street

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blackwestchester · 4 years ago

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BW Job Alert: Westchester Crisis Counseling

Open Position Posting NY Project Hope: Westchester Crisis Counseling – CRISIS COUNSELOR – PART-TIME, LIMITED DURATION THROUGH JUNE 15, 2021 (Bi-lingual candidates preferred) About WLS The Westchester Library System (WLS) is a state-chartered, cooperative library system serving all 38 Westchester member public libraries and the county’s citizens. The mission of the Westchester Library System…

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jackalopejess · 8 years ago

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To my Tumblr followers,

The following letter is being posted here for hosting purposes, as this is my only publicly maintained blog that people can easily visit. In truth, it has nothing at all to do with most of you. You may read it, if you wish, or disregard it. It recounts a big change in my life that happened following the death of a close friend.

-------

Hello,

My name is Jess Hillard, I am 26 years old (27 in February), and I was a very close friend of the late Richard Concepcion. Some of you know my name, some may not, but if you’ve followed Rapid T. Rabbit & Friends within the past seven years, you’ve seen my work. I illustrated many graphics used in episodes of the show, crafted an updated puppet, and rebuilt the Rapid T. Rabbit mascot suit (with the exception of the vest, another friend made that). This is my first public statement since Richard’s death, as like many of you, I have needed time and space to grieve, and think about things. If you were a friend or fan of Richard’s, I kindly ask that you take some time to fully read this letter. I know it’s long, and I’m not the most eloquent writer there is, but it’s still extremely important that this be read, as it contains information about something Richard wanted me to do after he died. I’m very sad that he’s gone, but I can’t change that, and now it’s time for me to do what I need to do. Please allow me to better introduce myself by starting at our beginning:

Richard and I met in February of 2010 when I invited him to my 19th birthday party at a Chuck E. Cheese’s here in Delaware. An unplanned trip to a CEC the summer before had sparked my interest in the animatronics and merchandise, so much that I decided to host my birthday party there with my furry friends. During that time I joined the Showbiz Pizza fan forum in search of others fans who held my same interests. While browsing I happened upon a user called ‘RapidTRabbit,’ a name I recognized from my time in the furry fandom. He produced a puppet show that had been around for a long time. Although I hadn’t watched too many episodes, I found the show to be extremely charming and endearing, and thought it would be cool to meet the person who created it, especially if he was a Chuck E. Cheese fan too. I had never spoken to him prior, and I didn’t know any other furry who knew him. Still, I sent him a message through the Showbiz forum, introducing myself as a furry fan, telling him I had a CEC birthday coming up and I invited him to join me. As I’m sure you’d expect, he accepted my invitation and came down. Via train, of course. And we had a great time that day. Most people would generally have considered a 19-year-old girl inviting a 52-year-old man she doesn’t know from the internet to her birthday party at a Chuck E. Cheese’s to not be a very bright idea. But for me, it ended up being one of the best decisions I’ve ever made in my life. Absolutely.

In the months and years following that first meeting, I offered any creative services I could to Richard, hoping to aid in the production of Rapid T. Rabbit & Friends and keep it going forward. At the time, and to this day, I found it incredible that he produced his show on his own, since 1983, and had kept it going consistently for all these years. Watching the show, I can recall enjoying it’s genuine simplicity and friendly humor. It made me happy. And I could tell that Richard was someone with a lot of creative passion and ambition, just like me. His show was the kind of project I wanted to be a part of. With Richard’s help, I learned navigate buses and trains and traveled up to New York City regularly to work with him. In early 2011, I rebuilt the Rapid T. Rabbit mascot suit, crafting a new body and adding new fur to the original fiberglass head, and maintained the suit throughout the years. I never charged Richard anything for it. I did it because I thought a man as dedicated as he was deserved to have a nice looking costume. Richard and I made many RTR appearances together, like the OCNJ Doo Dah Parade, the Mermaid Parade in Coney Island, or Puppet Day at the Intrepid Sea, Air and Space Museum in New York Harbor. And when there were no appearances to attend or episodes to record, we spent a lot of time together as friends, going to restaurants, walking through parks, seeing shows and riding carousels.

Richard introduced me to so many places and things about New York City that I’ve grown to love. More than I could ever list. Red Bowl Noodle Shop in Flushing was our favorite place to have dinner together. On longer trips, he welcomed me into his home, small and crowded as it was, and gave me a place to lay down, watch some cartoons and talk about things we both enjoyed. We had a lot of adventures outside of the city, too. I can the remember the thrill and excitement of riding the classic Derby Racer together at Rye Playland in Westchester County. We once traveled to Salem, MA for the 10th and final iteration of Cheesevention, the Chuck E. Cheese/Showbiz pizza fan convention. Some years he’d come down from New York and spend Christmas time with me, and we’d swap gifts, go out for dinner and see each of The Hobbit trilogy films in theaters each year as they came out. I can remember riding the Muppet carousel getting our photo taken with Big Bird at Sesame Place, and I can remember him taking me to the real set of Sesame Street in Kaufman Astoria Studios to introduce me to the “real” Big Bird, his friend Caroll Spinney. One year, we both stood on the boardwalk during Ocean City, NJ’s First Night celebration, watching fireworks go off in the midnight sky as we rang in a new year, promising each other to make it even better than the last. He even took me with him on one of his birthday trips to Disney World because I told him that growing up I’d never had a chance to go. He was a fantastic friend. I truly, genuinely enjoyed his company, and I feel like he really enjoyed mine too.

I’ve thought about Richard a lot since he died. At least once per day. I think about the kind of person he was, the moments we shared together, the things we did and said. The last time I saw him was in June, when he and a friend came down to my house to pick up some of his Care Bear costumes. It was the same as every other visit. He brought me a gift, a Disney Store plush of Bing Bong from Inside Out, because he remembered just how much I love that movie. We talked about the same things we always did. He taught me something I didn’t know about old technology, specifically the Sony Trinitron television set. We talked a bit about the next steps of producing the new Rapid T. Rabbit show we’d been developing for a few years. He took a ride on Butterbean, my toy spring horse. I told him I’d try to visit NYC soon to buy fabric, that we’d go eat at Red Bowl Noodle Shop again. We gave each other our usual big hug, I said I’d see him again soon, and he went home. The day before he died, he texted me photos of a Fix-It Felix arcade cabinet that he found at a barcade while on vacation in Oregon. He remembered how much fun I had playing that game when we found it at Disney Quest, and wanted to remind me of it.

That’s the sort of thing Richard did. He remembered things that people liked, and then he’d share things or do things to make them smile; he would bring them the same kind of happiness that he had. And I miss that happiness. I’m sad that it’s gone from this world. Richard was, without question, the most kind, happy, caring, and selfless person I have ever met in my life so far. He was special to me. Richard is the first person close to me to die, and I cry when I think that I will never, ever get to see him again. I don’t cry as much as I did in August and September, but I do still cry sometimes, and there’s a certain emptiness in my heart that hurts every now and then. But I’m learning to be okay and move on. Bit by bit, every day. I know that coping with a loss is different for everyone, but for me specifically, a big part of moving on means accepting the responsibility of fulfilling Richard’s final wish for Rapid T. Rabbit. I don’t know if he ever wrote it down, or if he ever told it to anyone else. But now, after some time, I’m ready to tell it to all of you.

Sometime in early 2012 I took a trip to NYC to see Richard. I don’t recall every detail of this specific visit, as there were so many, but I remember when this one took place because it wasn’t long after his father passed away that January. We were in his apartment, having a conversation about end of life affairs. One of his brothers had recently sent him a Word document template for a will and instructed him to fill in. I agreed with that idea, because you never know when you’re going to go, and having a will written makes things legally easier for those left behind to take care of your things. Richard told me that he’d already thought about this sort of thing, like who would want to have Care Bear mascot costumes, and who he’d give his rocking horses to. It was a weird conversation to have, but worth having, because we’re all going to go one day. He told me the names of a few friends he’d wanted to write in, and then he said that he asked if I was willing to be one of them. He wanted to give me Rapid T. Rabbit. And I can remember feeling.. sort of humbled in that moment. I listened.

He said that he wanted to leave me the original episode library recorded on hundreds of U-matic tapes, his editing system, the puppets, the costume, production logs, and all other show assets, so that I might preserve the show he had made and continue it in some form after he died. He said I’d need to find someone to perform the mascot costume, and I’d likely need a person who was able to imitate his voice. And I can remember him smiling and chuckling as he talked. Richard told me that Rapid T. Rabbit was his life’s work, his Kermit the Frog. He said, and I quote, “I want the character to outlive me.” I looked to him and said that I would. I promised. And he smiled and thanked me. To this day, I don’t know exactly what made him decide to choose me to be his successor. I never thought to ask. But still, I understood that for the first time in my life, I had granted a dying wish; I knew that one day I would be responsible to producing Rapid. T Rabbit, and that it would be a life commitment. But I thought that would be maybe fiteen years from now. I did not expect it to be only five. I don’t think any of us did. But things happen, and Richard’s gone now. He is at peace. And now I have to keep my promise.

Richard never finished writing his will, as far as I know. Maybe it’s a partially-filled Word document sitting on a hard drive somewhere. He had a tendency to procrastinate with things like that, and I never pressed him to finish it because I didn’t think to. I didn’t think he was dying. So as such, I wasn’t given any of his Rapid T. Rabbit-related assets and possessions. But that’s okay. I don’t need them to keep RTR alive, or to finish the new show we had started producing together. In addition, a great deal of Rapid T. Rabbit & Friends episodes and other resources are already online, so I can further archive them myself from there. And as you can see, I also have one of the original Rapid T. Rabbit puppets. In September, around Richard’s birthday, I remembered that I had the puppet, disassembled, in my fursuit workshop. Richard left it with me many years ago for refurbishing, and I’d used it as a basis to build the updated puppet in 2013. He’s since been put back together and will be taken very good care of. I’m unsure of who is in possession of Richard’s other RTR assets as of this writing, but whoever they are, I’m sure they’ll take care of them as well.

On February 21, 2018, Rapid T. Rabbit will celebrate his 35th anniversary, and will celebrate and many, many more in the years to follow. I currently lack the resources to create the new puppet show Richard and I had developed, so I plan to tell its story through a webcomic. I have absolutely no intention of monetizing the character in any way, shape or form at this time. A Rapid T. Rabbit mascot suit will also be built to star in future videos and appear at select events. I spent time thinking about whether it would be right to do this. A fursuit is a very personal thing, and the idea of replicating a deceased furry’s costume is usually met with contempt for a good reason. In my thinking, I recalled Richard’s passion for mascots. He was a professional mascot for most of his life, after all. Richard had such a love for costumed characters, both performing them and getting to meet them. I know in my heart that he would want Rapid to continue to exist as a mascot character in the real world, so people would still be able to meet him and get their photo taken with him. I realize that it for many of you, it will be weird to see Rapid T. Rabbit without Richard, and I understand that it may be a little uncomfortable to think about. It is for me, too. But it’s what I have to do. This is how I keep my promise to a friend. It’s how I thank Richard for seven and a half years of wonderful friendship and kindness, for memories that I will treasure for the rest of my days. It’s how I grieve, how I honor a person I loved, and how I say goodbye. I hope you can understand, and forgive me if need be.

I believe I’ve said everything I need to say, for now. Thank you for taking time out of your day to read this letter. Thank you to Richard’s friends and fans. To everyone who was involved with Rapid T. Rabbit & Friends, whether it was for many years or for a single episode. Thank you to all the fursuiters who marched in Doo Dah year after year. To the people at Hi-4! Entertainment who invited Rapid T. Rabbit to join them at their charity events. Thank you to his brothers and sisters for supporting their brother’s pursuits, peculiar as they may have been. Thank you to the staff of Midwest FurFest for making him an inaugural Guest of Honor in 2000, and for inviting him back in 2009. Thank you to everyone who helped make Rapid T. Rabbit who he is. And last, but far from least, thank you, Richard, for entrusting me with Rapid, for being my friend, and for sharing so much of your life and dreams with me. I will be forever thankful to have known you, and I only wish I had one last chance to tell you exactly how much you meant to me.

Should anyone need to contact me regarding anything I’ve written above, or have another related question or comment for me, please send an email to [email protected]. This mailbox was set up specifically for the purpose of receiving RTR-related messages without having to publicly share my email address. By choice, I do not maintain a public online profile, even before Richard passed away. My daily life is very busy, so I will only be able to check this mailbox and write replies a few times a week, but I will do my best to answer your questions. Thank you for being patient with me while I work things out. I hope you all have a good holiday season, and I look forward to getting to know you better.

Take care, see you next year, and keep hoppin’ happy.

Sincerely,

Jess Hillard and “Rapid T. Rabbit”

December 20, 2017

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xtruss · 3 years ago

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Article: The Night New York’s Lights Went Out

What happened when the 1977 blackout hit the already down-on-its-luck city.

— July 15, 2021 | Kirstin Butler | From The Collection: Scenes of Summer | American Experience

In the aftermath of the 1977 blackout in New York City, two Harlem residents stand near the sprinkler of an open fire hydrant on 3rd Avenue and 117th Street, July 15, 1977. Gerard S. Williams/Newsday RM via Getty Images

NYC Blackout

Morning broke hot and humid over New York on July 13, 1977, at the outset of what became one of the longest heat waves in the city’s history: The temperature would top 100 degrees three times over the next nine days. Heat wasn’t the only stressor that summer. The unemployment rate was at 12 percent. Subway fares had jumped from 35 to 50 cents. Crime was way up: Over the previous decade, the rates of murders, assaults and car thefts had more than doubled, the rate of burglary had more than tripled and robberies were up by a factor of 10. The city was deep into a fiscal crisis that led to dramatic cuts in social services—including hospital and library closures and massive layoffs of firefighters, police, public school teachers and sanitation workers—which placed additional pressure on the residents who needed city services the most.

A severe thunderstorm turned this volatile situation into a flashpoint. At 8:37 p.m. in neighboring Westchester County, lightning hit two high-voltage lines at a major power plant. Two more major lines on the Con Edison power system, which serviced eight million people in the greater New York metropolitan area, were struck at 8:56 p.m. A cascade of power outages throughout the system, over the course of just an hour, led to its total collapse. By 9:40 p.m. all five boroughs of the city were plunged into darkness. The economic and social frustrations that had steadily been building boiled over. Widespread looting, unrest and arson broke out in the poorest neighborhoods. Over the next 24 hours, 1,600 stores were damaged, 1,000-plus fires were reported and more than 3,700 people were arrested. Economic damages reached well into the hundreds of millions of dollars.

By the time day dawned on July 15, Con Ed’s system was back online, and New York’s residents tried to resume the rhythms of daily life amid broken glass and embers. But they sensed, already, that their city was drastically changed by the night the lights went out. One year later, a special commission established to study the blackout tried, without success, to fully capture its impact. “The social costs of the blackout,” the commission noted in its summary report, “are difficult to measure.”

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feywildrp · 7 years ago

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THE SEEKER // Benjamin Dalton. Unaligned human, graduate student. Born in 1995. Living at Avalon Bowery, Apt. 01D.

“Very superstitious, wash your face and hands. Rid me of the problem, do all that you can, keep me in a daydream, keep me goin' strong. When you believe in things that you don't understand, then you suffer.” —Stevie Wonder, Superstition.

KNOWN TRAITS // Clever, studious, persistent, impulsive, conventional.

Binge watching reruns of Scooby Doo. Wishing life was that easy to solve. Pancakes and scrambled eggs at midnight. Stacks of text books and files a skyscraper tall. Pressure to follow in your father’s expensive Oxfords. Younger brother of the family fuck-up. Filling in Scantron bubbles perfectly. Second guessing. Factors that don’t add up. Living at the library, learning how to shine. Envisioning justice for all. Never imagining the price.

History

⇢ Trigger warnings: miscarriage, kidnapping mentions.

Benjamin was born the younger brother of Nicholas Dalton and one of two children of a New York Senator. His upbringing was a whirlwind affair; the Dalton homelife was stable and they wanted for very little, if anything. While Benji’s father was often busy on the phone or taking meetings behind closed doors if he was home from Capitol Hill at all, Benji did enjoy a close relationship with his mother. Both parents doted, but their father made up for lost time with gifts and stories of White House dinners and political intrigues more enthralling than House of Cards, while their mother did most of the work of raising them. It was a task with the boys 8 years apart and little they could share; Nick was the reason for a shotgun wedding, then there was a miscarriage to recover from before Benji’s birth. As a result, their mother was quite attached to her children, even at times overprotective. Though the Daltons afforded home cleaning, she believed in raising her children herself, with meals she cooked herself. It was this balance of privilege and responsibility that Benji believed in, even as his older brother seemed to shirk the latter in favour of the former. There was just something different about Nick, something smoother and more alluring that made people flock to him, gave him the good luck of easy opportunities and misspent youth.

In contrast, Benji often felt he had to make up for his brother, somehow embarrassed by Nick’s negligence of the family legacy. Benji worked hard for what he wanted out of life, even it meant he had to excel at things he didn’t necessarily love, like AP Calculus. The after school musical, the volunteering at the soup kitchen, the marathons for charity; it was all for the goal of the elite college application. In some ways, Benji felt he had more to prove, didn’t want people to see him as riding his father’s coattails. He wanted to make his family proud, but not by being given a pass as a favour to his father. Benji wanted to do life on his own terms; he held sight that he chose this for himself. Benji wanted to be the best District Attorney this state—perhaps the country—had ever seen. He believed in the legal system, but believed it had flaws that were exploited against the vulnerable, and he wanted to change that. He’s still hard at work on his dreams, attending NYU School of Law for graduate study. Benji’s father was so proud that he is putting Benji and his best friend, Tyler, up in a nice apartment complex while they study. But whenever Benji goes home to Westchester, he can’t shake the feeling that his dad is involved in something he doesn’t want anyone to know about—something having to do with a seven pointed star folder he always hides.

Occupation

Full time graduate student: law.

As of fall semester 2017, Benji is a graduate student at NYU Law School. Benji graduated NYU undergrad in the spring of 2017 with dual degrees in Politics and Public Administration & Business. Benji met his best friend, Tyler Young, in his PA&B courses. Both are attending graduate studies at NYU, but Tyler is going for business rather than law. Much of Benji’s time is spent studying for the bar and recovering from studying for the bar.

Connections

Tyler: Benji is very close to Tyler, closer perhaps than he is to even Nick. Sometimes the nature of the friendship seems confusing, like there’s something more under the surface, but other than that, they share everything with each other. Tyler has recently told Benji about something called Clann Nuada, though he doesn’t know details.

Nickel: Nickel is just Nicholas Dalton to Benji; he has no knowledge of the swap that happened between Nickel and Sean as babies. Nickel has just always been big brother Nick; the cooler brother who is, at times, the family disappointment. That and the age gap doesn’t stop them from having a close sibling relationships regardless.

Larkspur: Benji has heard Larkspur sing now and again echoing through the alley hidden on Norfolk Street when he’s gone wandering downtown. Her voice always stops him in his tracks, just for a moment, before he rushes elsewhere. If Benji ever learned about the elixirs—perhaps #91—there would be a real temptation there.

PLAYLIST 1. Imitosis // 2. Come With Me Now // 3. Superstition

Benji is portrayed by Timothée Chalamet. The faceclaim is NEGOTIABLE. Benji is currently TAKEN by Rory and not available for application.

#lsrpg #original rp #literate rp #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fc #bio #unaligned #human #benjibio #taken

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rocklandhistoryblog · 7 years ago

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#TBT Harry L. and Adele Dow Sisco Family (1959). Image appeard in a feature in the Journal News in February, 1979.

It was a short obituary. Harry L. Sisco, a lifelong resident of Rockland County had died, leaving his wife, Adele, and five children. But in South Rockland, where he had lived all his life, memories going back decades and generations began to pour forth. The Siscos have been part of Rockland’s history since long before it was a county. Dr. Carl Nordstrom, the Rockland historian, thinks they may be "the single largest black family in Rockland County", and one of the oldest. It is possible, he thinks, they were descendants of a sailor, named Jan Francisco, who was on a Spanish or Portuguese ship captured by the New Amsterdam Dutch in 1643.

In Rockland history, the earliest Siscos appear in a survey report on the Cheesecocks Patent by Charles Clinton, who noted seeing in 1739 somewhere near the present day Airmont the home of Samuel Francisco, a free Negro. The Siscos appear thereafter in various Rockland records, their names variously spelled. Eventually they gravitated to the southeasterly part of the county and became part of its history. Sometime, possibly before the Revolution, they were among a group of black farmers who settled on land just south of Palisades and now encompassed by the Palisades Interstate Park. They called their little community "The Mountains" also known as “Skunk Hollow”.

Some Palisadians thought they came there to escape racial tensions in New York. Dr. Nordstrom thought they were drawn there because it was kind of no-man’s land, long claimed by both New York and New Jersey and there¬fore passed over by those looking for secure titles. In any event, the black settlers built houses, cleared and planted enough land to sustain themselves, erected what is believed to have been the first black church in Rockland County and next to it a cemetery. H. Archer Stansbury, an octogenarian of Closter Road, Palisades, recalls visiting the little church on festival days when there was a ceremony called "marching through the wilderness". After hymns and prayers in the church, the congregation did indeed march through the verdant, creation-fresh woods of the Palisades, returning enhanced and exalted to generous refreshments at the church.

The community endured until around 1915 and then vanished. Today there are left only shards and mouldering foundations. Still standing in the cemetery is the gravestone of Jane, the 14-day-old daughter of John and Jane Sisco, "who departed this life March 4, 1846".

That the history of "The Mountains" survives at all is due in no small measure to Harry Sisco, his daughter, Mrs. Shirley Sisco Swann and his niece, Mrs. Frances Pierson of Piermont. In 1974 they assisted Dr. Nordstrom, Dr. Jacqueline Holland, the Rev. C. J. Ross of the Sparkill’s St. Charles A.M.E. Zion Church, Leonard Cooke and others, in reconstructing its story as well as that of the black community of the Sparkill area. Later Mrs. Pierson assembled and mounted two exhibitions at the Piermont Village Hall—photographs and artifacts relating to the blacks of the area, including the community called "The Mountains".

Priscilla Sisco Swann (L) and Frances Sisco Pierson (R). Clipped from The Journal News, 04 Jun 1994, Sat, Page 15

It seems probable there were Siscos in other parts of south Rockland. Frank Bertangue Green in his "History of Rockland County" (A. S. Barnes & Co., 1886) notes that early in the 1800’s a Negro wheelwright, whose daughter was a Mrs. Sisco of Piermont Avenue, Nyack, erected and ran a grist mill and a carding mill at Tappan Slote. Toward the end of the century, the Siscos appeared in the old Nyack and Piermont directories. Peter Siscoe, a laborer, was listed in Piermont in 1894 and Abram Sisco, a coachman of Sparkill in 1897. Abraham Sisco was Harry’s uncle. He became a trustee of St. Charles A.M.E. Zion Church.

The Siscos were living in Sneden’s Landing across from the Presbyterian church in the gray house now occupied by Harry and Dorothy Davis when Harry was born. He was the seventh of eight children. His father Sam, a coachman and barber, worked for some of the well-to-do families of the area —the Winthrop Gilmans, the Agnews and the Foxes. Sam’s children, among them Susan, Sadie, Lenore, and Harry, became an integral part of the life of the community. For a time, the family lived in "The Mountains’’, or, as it was sometimes called, "Skunk Hollow". Harry remembered playing as a boy in the old church which by that time was unused and going to ruin. When school was in session he and his brothers and sisters, in fair weather and foul, walked the dirt road euphemistically called "the Boulevard” from "The Mountains’’ to the Palisades School.

Eventually there came to "The Mountains" a spunky little girl named Adele Dow, great-granddaughter of Hanna Whitehead Oliver, an Iroquois Indian. Harry fell in love with her and on August 13, 1925 they were married by the Rev. R. F. Pile of St. Charles A.M.E. Zion Church. To them were born in the succeeding years, six children, of who five survive. The sixth, Ramon, died suddenly at the age of 21 soon after returning from service in the Korean War.

Frances Sisco (Pierson) and Adele Dow Sisco at the Blacksmith Tea Shop, 1928-1932, in uniform. Courtesy of the Alice Gerard Collection of the Palisades Free Library

The news of Harry’s death on February 28, 1976 set the whole community to reminiscing about him as though an era had passed for in myriad ways he had been a part of many lives. "He was more than a good man; he was an institution," mused Mrs. Mildred Post Rippey. "He and his family knew their worth. They worked their way into our hearts.” Her mind went back to the little school in Palisades, built in 1860’s and now a community center, which she attended with Harry’s older sisters and, later, Harry. Every class day began with the children, in double seats, rising to salute the flag, march around the room, sing a hymn, say a prayer1, and then start classes. On Sundays, Mrs. Rippey remembered, many of the same children, Harry and his sisters among them, would assemble at the Presbyterian Church for Sunday School. One Easter Sunday, she and Susan Sisco were chosen to go through the community bearing Easter lilies to the sick.

Mr. Stansbury remembered Harry as the bugler of Boy Scout Troop No. 1 of Rockland County, which he organized on May 15, 1919. "Harry was a good Scout," he said. "He earned, and I remember giving him a good conduct badge." To Miss Emma Stewart came the memory of Harry as the boy who pumped the organ at the church on Sundays, first for Mrs. Lydia Post and later for Miss Stewart’s sister, Mrs. Everett Martine. For that chore, he received ten cents a week.

Mrs. Eric Gugler, one of the surviving children of Francois and Mary Lawrence Tonetti, the sculptors of Snedens Landing, recalled the Sisco family when they lived across from the Presbyterian Church.

"We played together, we grew up together, we put on plays together, we went to school together, and we all loved Harry’s twinkling eyes and beautiful smile,” she said.

It was the Fox families of Palisades with whom Harry was chiefly identified, however—Seth, Arthur, Miss Jenny, William, and in his last years, William’s widow, Mrs. Violet Fox. For almost a half century Harry served one or another of the families as caretaker, handyman, driving instructor, mechanic, snow plougher, philosopher, counsellor and friend. The adults respected and relied upon him. The children loved him, for Harry had a special no-nonsense rapport with them; he was their stern but unfailing ally. Elizabeth Fox, now Mrs. W. Arnold Finck, recalled that when winter snows came, the little Foxes would take to the long steep hills with their sleds, while Harry, driving a tractor with a flat, triangular wooden snowplow attached, went out to clear the roads. "Somehow,” she said, "Harry always managed to be at the bottom of the hill, ready to start up, just as we reached there on our sleds, so we never had to climb the hill.” Somehow, too, he kept an eye on them, whether they thought they needed it or not. Somehow, he had a sixth sense for danger or mischief or the need for communication or support. He counselled them sternly to obey their parents and to "straighten up and be somebody”.

"He was more successful than anybody else in talking sense into my head,” Dr. Donald Finck told his mother one day, a touch defiantly. To which Mrs. Finck replied smilingly, for she had also benefitted from Harry’s tutelage, "Yes, I expected him to.”

In their own children, Harry and his wife, Adele, instilled the same sense of personal worth and responsibility, with the following results:

Harry L. Sisco, Jr., is director of field services for Henderson Industries Automatic Weighing Systems, West Caldwell, N. J., and also assistant pastor of Berea Seventh Day Adventist Church, Nyack.

Priscilla Sisco Swann, with an associate degree in applied science, is employed by the Rockland County Health Department in public health education. She is also secretary-bookkeeper for the Seventh Day Adventist Westchester Area Elementary School in New Rochelle, one of the founders and a member of the board of directors of the Nyack Headstart Nursery School, and a board member of the Rockland Community Action Council.

Barbara Sisco Peterson is a computer programmer at Dairylea Cooperative, Inc., Pearl River.

Shirley Sisco Swann is quality control department head in electronic stampings, Plessy Montvale of Montvale, N. J.

Judy Sisco Peaks is assistant supervisor of data processing and control at Burlington Industries, Rockleigh, N. J.

In his last years, Harry, severely crippled by arthritis and walking with a cane, functioned as a chauffeur for Mrs. William Fox, proudly driving her 1950 Packard, which he kept as sparkling bright as a new-minted gold piece.

On August 16, 1975, the Sisco children gave a dinner-dance for their father and mother at the Holiday Inn, Orangeburg, in celebration of their golden wedding anniversary. It was a grand affair, to which young and old, friends and neighbors, black and white, to the number of 60-odd, came to express their admiration and love. Harry, resplendent in a white Tuxedo and ruffled shirt, was in a mood to match the occasion.

On December 1, 1976 he was hospitalized with a heart attack and family and friends spent anxious weeks of waiting. Mrs. Finck telephoned him at the hospital and Harry chided her gently for not coming to see him.

"I was told that no one but your family could see you,” she explained.

"I know,” said Harry, "but I’ve told them at the desk that you’re my family even if you don’t look like it.”

By the end of the month, Harry was home and feeling better each day. His wife left him in a cheerful mood the morning of February 28 to do some errands. She told friends who inquired about him at the supermarket that he was on the mend. When she returned home, he was gone.

There was a service at the Berea Seventh Day Adventist Church in Nyack. Members of Elks Lodge 424 of Nyack served as pallbearers. Then they took Harry to Palisades and laid him to rest in the old cemetery beside his parents, his brothers and the son he had lost after the Korean War. There, among other notables of Palisades such as Jonathan Lawrence Elder-Senior of pre-Revolutionary note; the redoubtable Molly Sneden, mistress of the Revolutionary War ferry; Winthrop S. Gilman, the banker, builder and historian; and others who did so much to create and maintain the rare and special aura of the little hamlet, Harry Sisco, now and for 71 years an integral part of its history, is at home.

_________________________

We are pleased and honored to feature Harry L. Sisco during Black History Month.

To listen to oral histories from Judy Sisco Peaks visit the archive here: https://www.hrvh.org/cdm/search/collection/larc/searchterm/judy%20sisco/field/all/mode/all/conn/and/order/nosort/ad/asc

www.RocklandHistory.org

#black history month #black history is american history #Rockland History #rockland county #skunk hollow #the mountains #palisades #sparkill #Orangetown History #orangetown

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