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#(we were on a cemetery that allowed dogs and photographing them there)
nefja · 1 year
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The cherry blossom trees are blooming 🌸
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Is it weird to go and visit a cemetery JUST to look at really old graves? I want to go to one in my city for architecture/history appreciation-y reasons but I feel like I'll look Off? :/
I mean, I hang out in cemeteries---I have three albums’ worth of photographs attesting to that fact, spanning different seasons and cemeteries. Robert Loerzel, who is a minor Chicago celebrity, can be frequently found hanging out in St. Boniface Cemetery in Uptown. If you head to Graceland Cemetery, you can see people relaxing under the trees with their dogs, children on bikes and couples strolling down mausoleum row. In Philadelphia, The Woodlands was a popular place for people to go running in the morning; Laurel Hill had daily tours and Halloween events and even yoga classes. When I lived in a tiny town in Michigan, we regularly took field trips to the cemetery to learn about local history, do grave rubbings.
So if it’s “weird” to hang out in cemeteries, anon, then you are in very good company.
Cemeteries, particularly in the U.S., actually have a history of being public recreational spaces. Places like Laurel Hill, Graceland, St. Boniface and the Woodlands were shaped to be beautiful, open and green, emblems of what’s referred to as the “rural” or “garden” cemetery movement. These spaces were collections of history, art, horticulture---and many of them predate other municipal public spaces like parks, botanic gardens, or museums. Is it any wonder that Americans began picnicking in graveyards, gathering to socialize, take in nature, hunt, and even hold carriage races?
The broad use of these cemeteries was forerunner of and inspiration to the modern public park. Frederick Law Olmstead, one of the men behind the creation of Central Park in NYC and inspiration for Chicago’s Lakefront, complained incessantly that visiting graveyards was “a wretched pretext” for what people really wanted: metropolitan parks, spaces for social, neighborly recreation.
He would get them---attitudes towards death were shifting in the U.S., and municipal public works were growing and gaining visibility all across the country. By the mid-20th century, people left cemeteries to the dead and the mourning.
But the pendulum of history swings and now, here in the 21st century, historical cemeteries are trying to entice people back with the same social, neighborly recreation they once offered our 19th century cousins. These cemeteries offer tours and nature walks, host weddings and festivals, are open for runners and bikers and dogs and amateur historians; some even hold concerts.
This isn’t to say that you shouldn’t be respectful when you visit. Definitely look up the cemetery’s rules before you go---Arlington doesn’t allow bikes, for example, and Graceland doesn’t allow food. But there’s nothing weird or unusual about making a trip to the cemetery to soak in the peaceful atmosphere, admire the statuary and meditate on history.
On the contrary, it’s one of the great American pastimes. 
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thepettymachine · 5 years
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Zodiac Legacy Challenge for the Sims 3
If you’re like me, I like a good legacy challenge with nice themes/aesthetics to place/plan out with each heir with enough wiggle room for creative interpretations. No. Well I’ve always wanted to do a zodiac legacy challenge but could never find the rules for TS3 or most of them were made for TS4.  So I guess I thought I would just make one then. 
This was all made on a whim but it’s a strong whim. So enjoy the whim. “@” me if you use the rules since I didn’t come up with a tag for this. 
Credit:
I like to credit @tainoodles‘s TS4 Astrology Legacy as an inspiration/base for this, as well as many others I’ve found online. 
A buttload of astrology sites
@starplumbob​ and @bravetrait​ for feedback. Thank you alot!
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Without further ado
General Rules:
Finish the goals provided for each sign
You can move onto the next generation when all goals are met or you maintain them until the heir has aged up or both. Up to you.
 You can start on any sign but you must go in order afterwards.
If I were to start on Leo, I would have to do Virgo next.
You can select any of the careers provided for the generation.
You don’t have to use all the traits assigned to a sign, but 1-2 are required.
You can use colors for aesthetic purposes/berry purposes, but they are not required.  
Generation Aries: The Ram  
♈︎ - Is everything a game to you? Well of course it is, you’re an Aries. First sign in the zodiac that also might be banned from playing simopoly. We admire a courageous spirit that knows what it wants, is driven, and is bluntly honest with us but can you let some of us, you know….win?! Not everything has to be a competition. Geez 
Aesthetic Color(s): Red Traits: Workaholic, Ambitious, Brave, Hot-Headed Careers: Firefighter, Athlete, Military, Sports Agent
Goals:
Excel and reach the top of their career.
Fall In love and marry their first love fast
Has to do something athletic once a week
Master the athletic and handiness traits
Have them battle someone once a week
Generation Taurus: The Bull
♉︎ - What’s wrong with a little luxury in life. Food, art, sex, and your favorite snuggle blanket made of some high cotton that was not cheap is the lap of luxury for you. You can be really stubborn sometimes but once you set your mind on something, you aren’t changing it. It’s all because you know what’s best for you and nothing else matters. Aesthetic is key but you can also be a little bit greedy with your stuff. Sharing is caring Taurus
Aesthetic Color(s): Earth Tones, Pink Traits: Natural Cook, Loves the Outdoors, Frugal, Hopeless Romantic Careers: Gardner, Cook, Nectar Owner
Goals:
Master the cooking and gardening skills
Be best friends with their future spouse before dating
Learn at least 20 new recipes
Must have twins (can have more children than that)
Have very expensive/luxury items worth more than $500 in your home (it’s all about that aesthetic)
Woohoo with your spouse once a day
Generation Gemini: The Twins
♊︎ - Wow, how does it feel to be a twin. You look every bit like each other except for your dual personalities. Charming and youthful, you both are ahead of the curve as your quick wit and curiosity keeps you moving forward in life. You have alot of skills and talents and love communicating your ideas with others. Just remember where the brakes are at , as some of us can’t keep up. Tough luck you say. 
Aesthetic Color(s): Yellow, mint green, Orange, neons Traits: Charismatic, Childish, Genius, Schmoozer Careers: Teacher, Writer, Private Investigator, Magician
Goals:
Both twins have to be heir
Have a very close relationship with your twin
Master 5 skills, including charisma
Spend most of their YA dabbling in different careers before deciding on one in their adult years.
Have multiple lovers before choosing/finding the one
Have to teach their children all of their skills and help them with their homework
Generation Cancer: The Crab
♋︎ - Why so crabby? I’m sorry had to throw that one in there. You tend to be a loyal compassionate creative person who wears their heart on their sleeve. Sometimes that sleeve might be drenched in your tears as you can be considered a little bit moody but we love you Cancer. You sense what a person is feeling and you help them through it. What a great lover and friend you are!
Aesthetic Color(s): Light Blue, Gray, Orange Traits: Nurturing, Family-Oriented, Over-Emotional, Brooding Careers: Sculptor, Daycare Profession, Resort Owner/Bed&Breakfast
Goals:
Sim must have a full relationship bar with their significant other before proposing
Have a lot of handmade items in your home
Have 5 children
Master the sculpting skill
Be best friends with all their children.
Get out of the house once a week
Generation Leo: The Lion
♌︎ - Royalty must be in your blood cause obviously you are the Queen/King and we are all just your royal subjects. With a mighty roar, you demand your spotlight and capture our attention with your spontaneous passionate heart. We follow your lead, my liege. For you will not make us forget it!
Aesthetic Color(s): Gold, Purple Traits: Snob, Brave, Dramatic, Star Quality Careers: CEO, Actor, Singer
Goals: 
Live in a mansion/large house with more than 4 bedrooms
Become a five star celebrity
Marry a big time celebrity
Go on a big dates with your lover/spouse at least once a week
New Me each week - go to the spa and change your boring outfit at least once a week
Master the social networking skill
Generation Virgo: The Virgin
♍︎ - The modest stylish Virgo is always the hardest worker that delivers the best because they expect the best. You love to serve others and always pay attention to details with such an organized perfection towards the things you do. But sometimes that perfection creates high expectations of yourself and let’s just say judgement and criticism is not your color.
Aesthetic Color(s): Green, Brown, White Traits: Perfectionist, Perceptive, Neurotic, Neat Careers: Doctor, Journalist, Bookstore clerk
Goals:
Have a part-time job, make straight A’s, and join a club as a teenager
Have a college degree
Spouse must be compatible and must share at least 2-3 traits with them.
Can only have woohoo after marriage
House must be clean all the times (no outside help is allowed)
Must learn something new every week
New Recipe, read a new book, learn a new skill, take a class
Generation Libra: The Scales
♎︎ - You’re a giant balancing act, trying to keep everything fair and just. You love being around all kinds of people and also trying to make the world a better place. As much as you are a great mediator and friend, you’re also a great people pleaser. Please take time out of your day not to be around people and just focus on you.
Aesthetic Color: Green, White Traits: Friendly, Good, Social Butterfly, Party Animal Careers: Architect, Stylist, Musician
Goals:
Get Married to a sim that is complete opposite of you, then divorce them
Remarry a more compatible sim
Have 10 best friends
Host a party once a week
Complete 3 social opportunities each week
Master the guitar, bass, drums, and piano skills
Generation Scorpio: The Scorpion
♏︎ - Ah the mystery of the Scorpio. You have an intimidating front but behind that is an emotional side only certain people are allowed to see. You’re kinda into some dark occultist stuff and you’re also secretive about things. But you’re a passionate lover that can see love as a game of trials. Just a couple of tests to make sure that this is the right person for who you can finally put your guard down around. 
Aesthetic Color: Black, Gray, Red Traits: Loner, Daredevil, Irresistible, Inappropriate Careers: Ghost Hunter, Law Enforcement (Forensics/Super Spy), Cemetery,
Goals:
You have a 3 dates policy before asking a sim to be in a relationship with you
Has at least 3 enemies (stop holding grudges)
Become an supernatural/occult sim
Master the martial arts and alchemy skills
Woohoo in 5 different places with your spouse
Do something inappropriate once a week
Generation Sagittarius: The Archer
♐︎ - Sagittarius you love your freedom and the adventures that come with it. You keep choosing the nontraditional path of life because you love to move past your horizons and set your own tradition. You’re brutally honest with everything and can tend to put your own desires above your own needs. As you constantly strive to be independent, you may grow distant from those who care about you the most. 
Aesthetic Color: Red, Purple, Blue Traits: Adventurous, Easily-Impressed, Flirty, Animal Lover Careers: Adventurer, Equestrian, Photographer,
Goals:
Max out a visa in one country (if WA is applicable)
Have 20 friends
Have multiple partners throughout their life but only commit once as an adult
Have multiple kids from different partners (one has to be from another country if WA is applicable)
Have a horse, dog, cat, and/or other small animals in the house.
Be apart of all 3 social groups (nerd, jock, rebel)
Generation Capricorn: The Goat
♑︎ - Baaahh, you’re a goat. Smart and hardworking, Capricorn, you have a “get stuff done at the expense of your health and other things for the sake of achievement and financial gain” -breathes in- kind of motto. You’re so focused on reaching the top, you forget about the other things in life. But your disciplined perseverance and patience will reward you later in life.
Aesthetic Color: Black, Gray, White Traits: Workaholic, Unflirty, Computer Whiz, Bot Fan Careers: Inventor, Bot Arena/Bot Builder, Politician
Goals:
You don’t date until you’re an adult
You don’t get married until you reached the highest point in your career
Master the logic skill and a tech skill (inventing, bot building, or advanced technology)
Have more than 25,000 in savings (without cheating)
Have your children be straight A students throughout the childhood/teen years
Generation Aquarius: The Water Bearer
♒︎  - Individualistic Aquarius runs on it’s own beat. You have a strong desire for change and evolution to come to the world which is why you have a strong sense for social justice in order to make the world a better place. You care for others and that care might cause you to create a system of prioritizing them above all other things. While love is always a nice thing, you just don’t like the idea of being dependent on each other, so it would be nice if you don’t have to commit.
Aesthetic Color: Electric/Light Blue, White, Violet, Traits: Rebellious, Eco-Friendly, Avante garde, Commitment Issues Careers: Astronomer, Game Designer, Scientist
Goals:
Master the Street Art skill
Create a Utopia for the future and get a statue in Legacy park.
Have a friends with benefits relationship with your closest friend that results with a child
You never marry
Must live an eco-friendly lifestyle. (no dryer, bikes > cars, salvage everything, grow everything)
Generation Pisces: The Fish
♓︎ - You’re a fish out of water and the last constellation of the zodiac. You’re a dreamer, creative and very intuitive which makes you empathetic and open to other’s feelings. Your symbol is two fish because you tend to constantly swim back and forth between conflicting desires and have a bit of escapism problem . You can’t help it sometimes, it just how it makes you feel. 
Aesthetic Color(s): Aquamarine, Sea Green, Lavender Traits:  Artistic, Sailor, Supernatural Fan, Loves to Swim Careers: Fortune Teller, Lifeguard, Scuba Diver
Goals:
Become a mermaid/master the scuba diving skill
Marry a supernatural sim
Master the painting and writing skills
Have 2 childhood friends and keep in touch with them throughout your lives
Thank you for trying out this challenge. Feedback is always welcomed thing on this challenge.
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cloverorgan83-blog · 5 years
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QUEENS 1930s
I’ve begun to think about “stuff” lately.
Forgotten New York celebrated its 20th anniversary this year, and I didn’t start on it until 1998, when I was 40 years old. This was just a few years after the World Wide Web started getting really popular; had the internet been around in the 1970s, think of how large Forgotten NY would be by now. If you’re keeping score there are 3,715 separate posts, which consist of tens of thousands of images, if you estimate ten images per page (many posts have one image but many have 100!) To cut to the chase, I’m thinking about legacy. In the immediate offing, I’m covered by the Greater Astoria Historical Society, which will continue the hosting if I’m run over by a streetcar or something. Long-term? I’m 61 now (in 2019), and hope to do this as long as I’m physically able. My energy levels are still as good as ever — I do a lot of walking and bicycling, though I can’t walk 20+ miles a day like some friends (to my frustration).
How will Forgotten New York be remembered when it ceases everyday production? Well, as a photographer and chronicler of New York city infrastructure, I’d be honored to be whispered about in the same breath as photographers Percy Loomis Sperr, Eugene Armbruster, Edgar “E.E.” Rutter, and the anonymous photographers who shot every property in New York City for tax purposes; their work can be found in the New York Public Library archives and in the NYC Municipal Archives. Their photography was primarily documentarian over esthetic: there wasn’t a budding Ansel Adams in the bunch. For esthetics, you’d be advised to turn to Berenice Abbott, who deftly managed to combine both everyday chronicling and beautiful photography, having been influenced by the great Parisian art photographer Eugene Atget and by artists Man Ray and Marcel Duchamp. I don’t aspire to Abbott’s artistry, but I certainly aspire to the great documentary powers the other photographers I mentioned were able to achieve.
Remember, photography was an expensive, cumbersome business for all mentioned above. I have a camera with a small, thin chip in it that can record over 1,000 pictures depending on its setting, as well as a portable telephone that has an excellent camera almost as an afterthought. Street photography has never been easier. As far as modern work goes there’s Matt Weber, one of the best New York street photographers, and for night photography the best I’ve seen is Mitch Waxman, who sticks mainly to western Queens, especially the Newtown Creek area.
A few years ago, I got my mitts on nearly 1,000 photographs taken all over Queens between 1929 and 1940 primarily as a method of recording recent street paving jobs. Thus, the focus is on roadways, either those recently repaved or are about to be repaved. Everything else seemed to be done as a sidelight though, as you’ll see, some fascinating building interiors were also recorded as part of the project. I have a somewhat busy weekend with a tour scheduled, so I thought I would take a few of these and scribble something about what I’m seeing in each.
164th Street at Jewel Avenue, looking north, July 7, 1936
In the late 19th and early 20th Century, a trolley line connected Flushing and Jamaica, running originally through the farms and fields of Fresh Meadows. The above image was captured at 164th Street and Jewel Avenue in 1936, just a few months before service ended in 1937. In short order, the tracks were pulled up, the weeds paved over, a center median added, and 164th Street became the fast and furious stretch we know it as today between Flushing Cemetery and the Grand Central Parkway.
South of Grand Central Parkway the trolley line veered off 164th and rode on its own right of way to a terminal on Jamaica Avenue at about 160th Street. In the decades since, most of this trolley route has been either eliminated or hidden pretty well, but the four-lane width of 164th Street is a legacy of the route. As you can se there was one lane of traffic on the east side of the street, with the rest taken up by trolley tracks. This photo was about a year before service ended, and the line seems to be in decline, with plants and weeds sprouting between the tracks. For more information see Stephen Meyers’ book, Lost Trolleys of Queens and Long Island.
In the photo, the lengthy building seen on the right distance is still there in 2019.
Jewel Avenue is an unusual named street that runs from Forest Hills across Flushing Meadows-Corona Park all the way to Fresh Meadows. It’s the only remnant of a group of streets east of Queens Boulevard in Forest Hills named in alphabetical order that turn up on maps from the early 20th Century. The streets in sequence were named Atom, Balfour, Chittenden, DeKoven, Euclid, Fife, Gown, Harvest, Ibis, Jewel, Kelvin, Livingston, Meteor, Nome, Occident, Pilgrim, Quality, Ruskin, Sample, Thurman, Uriu, Verona, Webb, and Zuni; it’s likely the streets were only on the planning boards till they were built mid-century, by which time they carried the numbers (68th Road, 68th Drive etc) they do today. I don’t know why the Jewel Avenue name was kept; it’s one of the few non-numbered streets, along with Northern Blvd. and Roosevelt Avenue, that cross Flushing Meadows-Corona Park.
The above photo was taken by the Somach Photographic Company, which also did a large amount of work recording what NYC streets looked like in the 1930s.
Ocean Promenade (Rockaway Beach Boardwalk) at Beach 101 Street
I cropped out the date on this photo to get my optimum width, but again, it’s sometime in the mid-1930s in late April. The season is just getting started at Gobel’s hot dog and hamburger stand. Note the barrel that was used to dispense Hires’ Root Beer. Silex coffeemakers debuted in 1915 and merged with Proctor Electric in 1960, creating the Proctor Silex company, which merged with Hamilton Beach in 1990.
The photos have largely yet to see the light, but in October 2018 I walked the length of the Rockaway Beach boardwalk, which aside from a short section by Riis Park near the Marine Parkway (Gil Hodges) Bridge, runs continuously from Beach 126th to Beach 9th Street (numbered streets on the peninsula get bigger from east to west). In 2012, Hurricane Sandy did a number on the old wooden boardwalk and it needed to be rebuilt virtually for its entire length. It’s now a state of the art seaside walk, but at the loss of the old “boardwalk” feel as synthetic materials were used instead of good old wood planks.
What is also missing are boardwalk-side vendors like this; I have a wealth of photos depicting these stands which numbered in the dozens. What happened to them? The closure of the Rockaway Playland amusement park in the early 1980s didn’t help, and today, not one remains. Also: “Specifically [Robert Moses’] 1939 road to nowhere called Shore Front Parkway. As part of the construction, no businesses or dwellings were allowed within 200′ of the boardwalk and a lot of homes, businesses and about half of Playland. 
Capitol Diner, Lawrence Street, February 18, 1932
This E.E. Rutter photo of a roadside railroad-car style diner was taken in an era when fast food franchises such as Starbucks and McDonalds did not exist. Yet it can be said that the Dunkin’ Donuts of the world are the direct descendants of such road food stands, which evolved into steel and chrome diners. Such diners are now themselves dying out, as their owners retire and developers prefer to build multistory buildings in their footprints.
Yet, these small diners, the earliest of which were located in decommissioned railroad cars, were nearly ubiquitous even in downtown areas in the 1930s and 1940s; they’re all over scenes in the Municipal Archives linked above.
In 1969, the Department of Traffic (now Transportation) decided to rename 122nd Street, College Point Causeway, Lawrence Street, and Rodman Street under the single moniker College Point Boulevard. a short stub still bears the name Lawrence Street in Queensboro Hill. You have to be a little careful with the labeling on these photos; the “College Point Causeway” moniker only applied to the current stretch of College Point Boulevard on the diagonal stretch between 26th Avenue and the Whitestone Expressway; south of that, the bulk of the road was called Lawrence Street and that’s where this photo was likely taken.
On the ads, the Willys-Knight Company produced autos between 1915 and 1933. Willys, named for John Willys, developed one of the first “jeeps” used in World War II and the brand name survived until the late 1950s and a series of mergers. The Whippet was a popular model named for the racing dogs, in production between 1926 and 1931. And,
The Scranton & Lehigh Coal Company was one of Pennsylvania’s large coal companies, supplying the Northeast with anthracite and other coal products. The engines that powered Brooklyn ran on coal; everything from heating homes and apartments, to heating the offices, schools, and churches of the borough, to the huge boilers that powered the many factories in the city. Coal was the fuel that kept it all going until well after World War II. Even today, a coal furnace still turns up here and there; they were long lasting, powerful, but simple heat producers. [Brownstoner]
“Theater building,” Lawrence Street, February 19, 1932
Another Rutter photo from the same period, also labeled College Point Causeway, shows a former domicile that has been turned into a billboard for several local movie theaters and the features playing at the time.
On the top floor are bills advertising the Taft Theatre, opened on Main Street in 1917 Flushing and renamed after President William Howard Taft, who passed away in 1930. It was a first run theater, but could not compete with the nearby RKO Keiths and Prospect Theatres, and closed in 1955. Both the Keiths and the Prospect survived until the mid-1980s: the RKO Keiths shell building is still on Main and Roosevelt Avenue, awaiting redevelopment. The Loew’s Valencia in Jamaica has been a church for several decades, but its near-phantamagorical detail has been preserved.
As far as the features go, The Champ was a 1931 film directed by King Vidor about a broken-down boxer played by Wallace Beery (who won the Best Actor Academy Award) and his son, played by Jackie Cooper, who had a lengthy career: he played Daily Planet editor Perry White 47 years later in the first Christopher Reeve Superman. Little-remembered today, Marie Dressler earned a Best Actress nomination in Emma.
Newsstand, Cross Island Boulevard, July 22, 1938
This photo is slugged “Cross Island Boulevard” which is the former name of Francis Lewis Boulevard; when the Cross Island Parkway was built in the late 1930s, Cross Island Boulevard was renamed shortly afterward to avoid confusion.
Depicted is a typical newsstand of the period. The top shelf is full of romance and movie magazines, few of which survive today. Titles such as Popular Science, Better Homes and Gardens and Good Housekeeping are still in business today, but none of the newspapers shown, The Long Island Daily Star, The New York Sun, and the North Shore Daily Journal, are. The New York Sun was revived as a daily in the 2000s and still exists in online form.
Laurel Hill Boulevard and 47th Street, March 28, 1938
Nothing in this photo remains; the buildings on both sides have long been razed, and Laurel Hill Boulevard is now the service road on either side of the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. Changes were soon to come to this placid scene as the first Kosciuszko Bridge was spanning over Newtown Creek and the BQE was planned to connect Brooklyn and Queens. Once in Queens, the BQE was slated to follow the diagonal route of Laurel Hill Boulevard between the creek and Queens Boulevard, whereupon it would turn north to fork into two sections at Grand Central Parkway.
Laurel Hill Boulevard, named for a small neighborhood in Queens between Calvary Cemetery and 50th Street north of the LIRR Montauk tracks, dates back to the colonial era when it was paved with shells and known as Shell Road. It skirts the right end of Calvary Cemetery before following the BQE to Queens Boulevard.
James Gilder Bar & Grill, March 30, 1938
The James Gilder bar was located in one of the buildings depicted in 1938 that would soon give way to BQE construction.
Interborough Parkway, Cypress Hills Cemetery, January 27, 1932
The Jackie Robinson Parkway along with the Grand Central were the first of NYC’s “parkways” providing express (more or less) auto through-routing built within New York City. The “Jackie” unusually begins at the confluence of Jamaica and Pennsylvania Avenues in East New York, twisting through a convoluted route through the “cemetery belt” and Forest Park at the Brooklyn-Queens border, meeting the Grand Central at Flushing Meadows.
Here it is pictured as it was constructed in Cypress Hills Cemetery on January 27, 1932 in an E.E. Rutter photograph. Rutter chronicled the “Jackie,” which was called the Interboro Parkway until 1997 when it was renamed in honor of the first African American major league baseball player, who himself is interred in Cypress Hills. The parkway was rebuilt to handle modern traffic volumes from 1987-1992, eliminating the last traces of the original railings and overpasses seen here.
Metropolitan Beer Gardens, Metropolitan Avenue at Union Turnpike, June 28, 1933
Before the Interborough Parkway opened in 1935, narrow, two-lane Metropolitan Avenue was one of the main traffic routes connecting the Brooklyn waterfront and Jamaica. It was constructed as the Williamsburg and Jamaica Turnpike during the James Madison presidential administration in the 1810s and renamed Metropolitan Avenue after the Civil War. Union Turnpike (its name suggests it was originally tolled, as Metropolitan avenue had been) is a somewhat newer route and remained incomplete until the early 20th Century as an extension of Union Avenue, originally a short route in Glendale.
In the early 1930s, the Interborough Parkway was under construction, paralleling Union Turnpike for a portion of its route. No trace of the Metropolitan Beer Gardens exists today, and either the parkway construction or Prohibition (repealed in December 1933) may have done it in; beer gardens around town either went the speakeasy route or sold “near-beer” containing less than 0.5% alcohol by volume.
PS 63, October 30, 1929
Public School 63, which still exists today in a newer building (a massive edifice at Sutter Avenue between 90th and 91st Streets in Ozone Park) is pictured in a 1929 photo by E.E. Rutter. Though it’s slugged “Linden Boulevard” I can’t be sure it was located on that street as in the early 20th Century, Linden Boulevard, which has its origins miles to the west in Flatbush, was extended east through Queens in a halfhearted fashion; today Linden Boulevard exists in a number of separate pieces in Ozone Park, regaining traction for good in South Jamaica, where it runs continuously into Elmont in Nassau County along the former route of Central Avenue.
I suspect this photo was taken on Old South Road which decades ago was renamed in sections as Pitkin Avenue and Albert Road. Indeed, the present PS 63 is called the Old South School, which might cement it for you.
Soda Candy, Rockaway Beach Boulevard, April 26, 1938
Though Rockaway Beach Boulevard was rerouted in the 1970s a block north of this location and given extra lanes, a short, one-block stretch was left over and actually this portion of the road still exists. One thing you notice about this corner grocery is the Meadow Gold Ice Cream “privilege sign” in which a company would pay for a sidewalk sign, provided its product was prominently shown on the sign (several Coca-Cola signs around town in this category still exist. Meadow Gold, which also distributes other dairy products, is still found in several parts of the country.
Smith Brothers Ice Cream, Ditmars Boulevard and 23rd Avenue, East Elmhurst
One such Coca-Cola “privilege sign” can be found at this roadside grocery at Ditmars Boulevard and 23rd Avenue near Glenn Curtiss Airport, now LaGuardia Airport. In the forefront is a placard for Smith Brothers Ice Cream, a popular brand in the early 20th Century. This brand was not originated by the bearded fellows on the cough drop boxes, but company scion Richard Smith developed the Früsen-Gladjé, Chipwich, Eskimo Pie and other dessert brands.
Van Wyck Expressway at 95th Avenue, September 7, 1934
The furiously mustachioed Robert Anderson Van Wyck was the first mayor of Greater New York, serving from 1898-1901. His involvement with American Ice, a monopoly in the necessary commodity before the age of universal refrigeration, cost him his political career. Nonetheless when a major route was built between Jamaica Avenue and Rockaway Boulevard in the early 20th Century it received his name, Van Wyck Boulevard.
In the early 1950s, NYC traffic czar Robert Moses built the Van Wyck Expressway along this route from Flushing Meadows south to Idlewild, now JFK Airport. The west side of Van Wyck Boulevard was retained, while everything on the east side was demolished; the buildings ween on the right side of the photo at 95th Avenue still stand. Since hundreds of residences were retained this is one of the few Expressways in NYC that have numbered addresses.
Van Wyck likely pronounced his name with a long “why” but today, most locals use the WICK pronunciation.
Lawrence Street (College Point Boulevard) at 36th Avenue, February 18, 1932
The Flushing Main Street station is so-called because there used to be a Flushing Bridge Street station located on the Long Island Rail Road Whitestone Branch, which operated from the mid-1800s to 1932, branching from the Port Washington line at Flushing Meadows and running north and east to Whitestone Landing at the East River at 152nd Street. After the LIRR unsuccessfully tried selling the line to NYC to operate as a subway line (presumably a connection would be made to the Flushing Line, today’s #7 train) the LIRR shut it down for nonridership.
This photo shows the branch as it crossed Lawrence Street, now College Point Boulevard; the Flushing Bridge Street station was just east of here. When the tracks and signals were cleared away, the one-block stretch of King Road would replace them.
Gas station, Whitestone Parkway, July 27, 1937
Among the items seen are a coin-operated public telephone, a Gulf calendar, and an ad for the upcoming World’s Fair to be held in Flushing Meadows in 1939. The Parkway gained expressway status some years after the Whitestone Bridge opened in the mid-1930s.
I’ll get back to recent photos — but from time to time, I’ll be showing some of these classics to indicate how much has changed and how much has stayed the same. You can find much more in the book I wrote with GAHS, Forgotten Queens.
Check out the ForgottenBook, take a look at the gift shop, and as always, “comment…as you see fit.”
5/19/19
Source: https://forgotten-ny.com/2019/05/queens-1930s/
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Week 10
If I got the choice in choosing whether or not I could be a woman in the Etruscan society or in Greece, I would choose the Etruscans every time. Unlike the Greek culture the Etruscan women attended events with their husbands, they wore nice clothes, and even jewelry. Although the quality and appearance of the jewelry depended on their social status, they were still allowed to wear it. Even the mirrors that women used were bronze and decorated with mythological scenes. Another thing that differs from Greek culture is that when women were shown in art they were sometimes seen as more powerful than men, whether that be in their divine status or age. One example of art back then that depicted a woman dominating a man was on the back of a mirror. It showed Uni nursing off her breast Herakles, in front of other Gods. Nowadays a scene such as this one would seem quite odd, but in today’s society we show women domination in other ways. It is more seen in photographs now, there are tons of women models. 
One thing from the Etruscan culture that still occurs in today’s society is what they did with their deceased. The Etruscans believed in an afterlife, when someone died they kept with them most of their belongings. Such as their mirrors, jewelry, clothes, and even their weapons. Common today, Etruscans often cremated their loved ones, and put the ashes many different places. Some were placed in tombs and others were put into urns. I know a lady in a cemetery where my grandma is buried that had both her and her dog’s bodies cremated and placed in a tomb. That cemetery is the only one I have ever seen to have a tomb. They also had urns in many different styles. Many were in the shapes of houses, but all the houses looked different. A person’s ashes could also be placed in a human headed urn, which was made to look like the person that was dead. Nowadays there are many different ways people can be buried. And there is a problem arising with all the caskets in the ground. It isn’t good for the environment. A company has emerged that allows people to have their ashes used as fertilizers for trees, your family gets the tree, and it is planted wherever you wish. This is done in hopes to eliminate use of caskets and help the environment by planting trees. 
The Etruscans also did many tomb paintings. Frescos have come to be my favorite art work that each culture does. I love how it shows their life story. The frescos show what they do such as their rituals, or what they do for fun, the dancing, or even when they’re morning their loved ones. Sometimes the frescos are done simply for enjoyment. But most of the time they always represent something. That’s what I love so much about ancient art. It all has a purpose for being done and everything has a meaning, even the animals found in the frescos. They aren’t just animals their life represents something in each culture. I can’t imagine how much time each fresco must take, they always have great detail and many colors. 
To me the Etruscans seem to be the kindest culture. They valued their women and didn’t keep them to do house work. Their dead were laid to rest peacefully and respectfully, they buried them with their belongings so that way their afterlife was enjoyable. Their jewelry was beyond beautiful and they made many great crafts such as bridges and even dentures. The dentures allowed people to live better and feel better about how they looked. 
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travels-with-chris · 7 years
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Krakow We left our apartment in Warsaw and caught the tram three stops to Warsaw East station and caught the train to Krakow. It was very busy but for less than €10 each we were in comfortable seats and had wifi. Quite a few people were enjoying g alcohol but not us as we were saving ours for arrival at the apartment. It took just under four and a half hours to reach Krakow and once off the train disaster struck, the carrier bag gave way and our litre bottle of vodka from Belarus smashed, soaking the phone charger and headphones amongst other things in the process. Once sorted we caught the tram a couple of stops, asked for directions a few times and found our apartment. After drying our adaptor we went to charge the phone and ping, the earlier vodka incident had both burnt and blown it, as well as cut all electrics. Luckily after some fuse box work we were up and running again but in need of a new adaptor. Once in and settled, we took a stroll past the river and into the Jewish Quarter. Being a Sunday night, it was busy and there was a good vibe, we stopped off for one, but that was all as a busy next day was planned. Up and out the next day, the first stop was the tourist office for a map and then to the Old Synagogue. After a stop for coffee at an impressive independent with coffees and teas from all over the world, we crossed to the other side of the river, entering the Heroes Getto Square, with giant chairs as a monument to the past. Not far from here was Schindler's Factory. It is currently two museums, the Historical Museum of the City of Krakow and Museum of Contemporary Art. As it was a Monday entry was free, though we were lucky as that days allocation had gone, but two suddenly became spare, talk about good timing. There was a short film about life at the factory, then lots to take in regarding the city itself but not too much more on the man and his work in saving 1200 Jewish lives by employing them in the factory. Heading out of the city by foot we arrived at the former Nazi concentration camp of Plaszow. Located on the site of two former Jewish cemeteries, some 30,000 people are believed to have died here at the hands of both men and women. The Nazis destroyed the camp before the Soviets reached it, there was just barren land, all bodies had been exhumed and burnt. Today it is a nature reserve, with a commemoration monument as well as ones to the Hungarian Jews and to the Polish Jews as well as Polish prisoners murdered. After a freshen up at home, we headed out for the evening and a walk along the river. We passed a statue to a dog that after his master had died whilst walking him, had stayed close to the spot for neatly a year, waiting his return, sad but at least recognised by the statue. We had seen online that there is a dragon near Wawel Hill, which breathes fire into the air and we timed it just right to get a picture. We carried on seeing the castle and cathedral lit up at night that we would visit the next day. As we walked up a busy street we arrived at Rynek Glowny, Europe's biggest square at 200 metres by 200 metres. We left the old town through what was the main entrance for many years, dating from the13th century, St Florians Gate now had a busker and a few drinks around it, whilst in front was The Krakow Barbacan, impressively lit up and also dating from this time. On our last full day here after a relaxing morning, we headed back to the Jewish Quarter for a massive slice of pizza bread, which more than set us up for the day. On our way to Wawel Hill we passed an impressive church where we were invited to listen to a free audio commentary, something new for us in our many churches. After a not too steep climb we reached the Cathedral, with free entry but no photographs allowed inside, it was still worthwhile to see the tombs of various kings and queens. Across from here is an artillery tower that for the equivalent of €1 gives access to the top and views across the city. Back at the bottom we looked in on St Mary's Basilica, containing the worlds biggest Gothic carved altarpiece. From here on the hour, a bugler plays a melody which is briefly but abruptly cut short, some say this is as a tribute to a piper was shot through the throat in 1241, when the Mongols besieged the city. After all this walking it was time to return to a tea and coffee shop for just that. Richard proclaimed his lemon tea to be the best ever and even went in to buy some loose leaf tea, the cake wasn't bad either. It was a hot and muggy day and after a quick break at the apartment, we went out to a local street food bar. The final walk saw us find a nice bar lit with fairy lights for one final drink, a good end to our stay.
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81scorp · 4 years
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Constructive criticism: Alita Battle Angel (2019)
(Originally posted on deviantart June 9, 2019)
Back in the early 2000s, when good superhero comicbookmovies were few and good live-action manga movies were non existing, I read that James Cameron was gonna turn Battle Angel Alita into a Live-action movie. It sounded cool, so I waited and waited... and finally... we got Dances with smurfcats in the wind, in spaaace, a movie that I have to admit that I like. (But then again, I like Suicide Squad.) After that movie he was gonna make Alita right? No. Now he`s making Smurfcats 2 to 4: Electric Boogaloo. I stopped waiting for Alita and looked at other movies instead.But then things started to move forward. Robert Rodriguez took over the movie and got it made before our sun died.Now... I do like this movie, it`s not bad... but it could have been better.It was very sequel baity. The romantic subplot was pretty weak but have been better if it had had more room to develop properly.If I could use Skynet`s time machine to travel back in time, avoid being arrested for public nudity and buy the movie rights from Yukito Kishiro before James Cameron got his hands on it, what would I have changed?
They could have given Nurse Gerhad some more lines, made some of the dialogue less cheesy, removed the motorball part (it wasn`t bad, just not very necessary), given Hugo some backstory, not made Vector a puppet of Nova whom they should have saved for a Mid-credit scene.It would make the plot seem less crammed, more self-contained while still have enough left to justify a sequel which should not be hammered in, but just teased without intruding on the main story. With these changes the story could have played out like this:
I will not stand by in the presence of SPOILERS! (Small warning: contains one F-word.) Plot Ido finds Alita in the scrapheap, realizes she`s alive, takes her home and gives her a robot body that he already had prepared. She wakes up, realizes she has limbs, puts on clothes, goes downstairs to meet Ido and nurse Gerhard who have just helped a patient who pays them with oranges. Alita turns out to have no memory of her past, Ido says she can stay for a while, till her memory comes back. She goes out to get more acquainted with the city that she`s gonna live in for a while. She sees Zalem, Ido explains that food comes from farms outside the city and is transported to the factories in Iron City from where they are sent to Zalem. Zalem gets most of the food and the people of Iron City get the rest. He offers her a job as an assistant and gives her a name: Alita. We get a short montage of her helping out in the clinic, moving boxes, organizing things, typical assitant job. Lunch break: She relaxes on the roof, eats an orange and meets Hugo, a boy in his late teens who does some maintenance job. It`s not love at first sight, the two talk a little and form, at most, a platonic relationship. Hugo admires the view (Zalem) and looks nostalgically at his wristwatch. Ido wants Alita to go to an address to pick up a thing that he needs. As she leaves Alita passes a woman (Chiren) who gets a good look at and recognizes her arms. Chiren talks to Ido, she wants him to join her, come work at her new lab at the better part of Iron City, she thinks his talent is wasted in this place. Ido refuses, he`s heard some bad things about the people running things in those parts. Chiren is about to leave, takes out a pendant necklace with an angelmotif, looks at it nostalgically and mentions "that girl" (Alita), she recognized Ido`s handiwork on her arms. Chiren wonders "Are you trying to replace her?" She leaves, a fancy car arrives and picks her up. Before the door closes we see Vector who looks at Ido. Alita has found the thing that she was supposed to get and is heading home, she notices something that looks like a pet cemetery, or more like a bird cemetery. She is back at Ido`s clinic, relaxing outside, eating a burrito. A dog shows up, she shares her burrito with him. Somewhere in the distance we see a spiked ring come spinning down one of the tubes connected to Zalem. (It`s in the background, Alita doesn`t pay attention to it, she`s too busy with the dog.) Later that night a woman gets killed. Ido comes home with a bloody wound, Alita sees this from her room. Following morning: Ido helps a patient, Alita wonders about his wound, Ido explains that he was clumsy, a toolbox fell on him. That same night he leaves again, Alita follows him. She bumps into Zapan. "Hey, watch it ya bimbo!" She keeps following Ido. She stops him from killing a woman but it turns out that the woman (and her two friends who show up, one of them a hulking monster named Grewishka) are murderers themselves. This life or death situation triggers Alita`s martial arts skills and she opens a can of whoopass and kills two of the bad guys. Grewishka`s arm is damaged but he survives and flees. Ido and Alita goes to a Hunter-Warrior central and Ido explains as he leaves the heads for his reward that in the old days there used to be something called the police who took care of criminals. But the way things are in Iron City that just won`t work so instead there`s Bounty hunters who takes down the criminals. He himself became a Hunter-Warrior because he needs an income and many of his patients just don`t have the money to pay him. Vector`s place: Vector talks to Chiren, he thinks it`s too bad that Ido didn`t take the offer, Grewishka crashes the apartment (literally) and needs Chiren`s help. Alita registers as a Hunter-Warrior (it`s super easy, barely an inconveience). Ido: "You did what?!" They argue, Alita storms out. Nurse Gerhad tells Ido that he`s overprotective, that girl can take care of herself. Ido says nothing. He takes out a photograph and looks at it. Alita walks through the city, she comes to an old abandoned factory with a big hole in the roof. She goes inside, lays down on the grass and stares up at the sky. Hugo shows up and tells her that the view is even better from the roof. He goes up to the roof, Alita follows him, they get a good view of the city and of course Zalem. Hugo talks about how he wants to go to Zalem, Alita finds his aspiration endearing. She opens up about how she has no memory of her past. Hugo wants to help her and remembers that once when he had an errand to do outside the city he saw something interesting. It might trigger her memory, or maybe not. They hop up on his moped and as they leave the city their faces are caught on a security camera. Outside the city Alita notices something that wasn`t in the city: birds. Hugo explains that nothing is allowed to fly within the city walls, (outside is okay but not inside) not birds or flying machines. Birds are shot down by deckmen. No one from the surface gets to Zalem for free. They come to a lake where a spaceship has crashed. Alita jumps into the lake, walks on the bottom, enters the spaceship and gets short flashback hallucinations where she sees the ship`s crew (half of them are male, half of them are female). One of the crew members opens a door through a five digit code, Alita remembers the code, she opens the door and finds a female berzerker body. She emerges from the lake with the berzerker body in her arms. Elsewhere: Chiren fixes and upgrades Grewishka`s body. Hugo gives Alita a ride home, he drops her of at her street, she smiles and looks at him as he drives away. Later: Alita wants Ido to install her into the berzerker body, he refuses, it could be dangerous. Alita understands but is disappointed. She goes to Kansas and tries to recruit a few HWs to help her take down Grewishka. (But none of that "I call to you my fellow Hunter-Warriors!", It`s a simple, straightforward request. One of the HWs is McTeauge, a cyborg with three cyborg dogs. There`s also a HW with a face tattoo and a red scarf, let`s call him Lee.) None of the HWs are interested. Zapan introduces himself and tells her why she won`t get any help. First: there`s no bounty on Grewishka, he`s checked. Second: HWs don`t join forces because the more you share a reward the smaller it gets, and HWs don`t work for free. Third: she`s a halfbaked rookie. He takes the opportunity to brag about his Damascus blade then he provokes her, she provokes him back, he wants to throw her out, she beats him, a fight breaks out, Ido intervenes. He`s angry and wants Alita to come home. An upgraded Grewishka arrives and challenges Alita to a duel, makes a hole in the floor and jumps into it, Alita jumps after him. Warpaints her face with some red mud she finds in the tunnels and fights Grewishka. Despite her courage and combat skills, Alita`s body is sliced up by Grewishka's chain-bladed fingers. He says that he`s gonna wear what`s left of her as a necklace so that he can everyday hear her pleas for mercy. Alita breaks free and jabs her remaining arm into one of his eyes. Alita: "Fuck your mercy!"
Ido and McTeague come to the rescue and force Grewishka to retreat. Ido is heartbroken when he sees Alita`s broken body in pieces on the floor. He carries her home and transplants her into the Berserker body. (In my version the Berzerker body can`t heal itself or shapeshift, It`s just very strong, durable, agile and can generate plasma from the fingers.) Ido and Gerhad rests after the procedure. Gerhad tells him that he can`t force her to live someone elses life. Ido realizes she`s right, takes out a photo and looks at it. Alita has woken up and wonders who the girl on the photo is. The girl is Alita, Ido`s late daughter. She was in a wheelchair. Ido made a robot body for her (the body that cyborg-Alita had before it was destroyed in the fight with Grewishka). One night one of Ido`s former patients broke into his clinic looking for drugs and painkillers and killed human-Alita. His wife, Chiren, took it the hardest and left him. Ido became a HW and went out on the streets at night to kill criminals. He apologizes to Alita for trying to make her live someone elses life, she understands him. A little later they run some tests on her new body, it is mentioned that she could over 300 years old. We see how her upper arm absorbs surrounding air, tranforms it into energy and lets it out through her finger tips in the form of a blue plasma flame. A cyborg (let`s call him Emmet) walks the streets alone at night. A masked gang attacks him, uses an electroshocker device to paralyze him so they can steal his backbone. The gang runs away to leave Emmet to die but one of the gang members stops, phones Ido`s clinic, tells him a cyborg is dying, gives him the address and tells him to save his life. The gang member turns out to be Hugo! Someone shows up to help Emmet, it`s Alita. Next day: Emmet is alive but he`ll have to wait until they can find a backbone for him. Till then he`ll have to stay at Ido`s clinic. Alita sits on the roof and watches Hugo drive by on his moped. Later that night: she and Ido hunts criminals. She seems distracted, one of the guys she hunts gets away, she catches up with him and kills him easily with just one punch. She realizes how dangerously strong she is and fragile the human body is. Ido suggests that they should call it a night. Alita agrees but tells him to go on ahead, she`ll catch up with him later. She jumps off into the night sky. She sits on a tall building and stares out over the city. Meanwhile: Hugo`s out walking, a fancy car stops next to him, the door opens, inside it sits Vector. He wants to have a talk with Hugo. Morning: Alita wakes up, goes for a morning walk, comes to Hugo`s place, he`s not home, she sits down and waits for him in the company of a gang of old people who seem to know him. They are worried about his obsession with Zalem. One of them asks Alita to "Knock some sense" into Hugo`s head. Vector`s car arrives, Hugo stumbles out of it half drunk, Alita takes care of him and gives Vector an angry look before he leaves. Zapan has been watching all of this from afar, still pissed that Alita broke his nose. Inside his tiny apartment Hugo is being looked after by Alita. He remembers the conversation he had with Vector last night. Flashback: Vector offers Hugo a job in the transportation business, more specifically: food transportation from the farms to the factories, an overall better choice than what Hugo`s doing now. Hugo protests and says that he`s very close to reaching his goal of collecting one million credits for his trip to Zalem. Vector asks him to reconsider, let`s say he did get there, then what next? To the people of Zalem he`d be a stranger, an outsider, there are too many things Hugo hasn`t thought of, he`s taking a big risk. Food transportation is safer. Hugo looks at his wristwatch and declines Vector`s offer. His mind is made up. Vector admires his stubborness. Flashback ends. Hugo discusses his dream of getting to Zalem with Alita. Montage of her killing some bad guys. On her way to the nearest HW central to cash in the heads she tells Ido that she plans to go to Zalem with Hugo.
Ido: "Wait, What?!"Elsewhere, Chiren`s lab: Vector wants Chiren to follow Alita around, keep an eye on her. He needs to know more about her. If she does this for him he`ll might send her back to Zalem. Grewishka is also there, pissed after having been beaten by Alita... again. Vector: "Patience, your time will come. Watch the furnitures." (In this scene we find out that it`s because of Vector that Grewishka doesn`t have a bounty on him.)Elsewhere: A lone cyborg walks the streets and gets attacked by Hugo and his gang. The cyborg turns out to be Zapan. Zapan kills Van and Tanji (Hugo`s friends). Hugo himself escapes but not without injuries. Hugo calls Vector who tells him to collect all his chips and get to his office where he`ll be safe. Elsewhere: Alita has cashed in the heads for chips, Ido talks to her, she reveals that she hasn`t told Hugo how she feels. She also opens up about her fear of literally hurting Hugo. Her berzerker body is a weapon built for combat... but not for falling in love. Zapan shows up and tells Alita that Hugo has a prize on his head, she refuses to believe it, but it`s true. She runs through the city. It rains. Chiren follows her from a distance. The abandoned factory with a hole in the roof: Hugo looks at all the chips he has collected, not enough to get to Zalem. Great, now what? Alita finds him, they discuss what Hugo will do next. He refuses to give up his dream of reaching Zalem. Alita confesses her love for him, but Hugo brushes it off. Desperate to know how he feels about her, she confronts him. Hugo admits that they are now partners in crime, Alita kisses him. A little later we see Chiren eavesdropping as Hugo reveals his past to Alita. He was raised by his brother and sister-in-law. His brother was always curious and eager to explore new things. He wanted to know what it was like in Zalem so he decided to build an airballoon. His wife (Nana) protested, not only was it illegal to build flying machines but it was also too risky, he could die. He still built his balloon in secret, in the abandoned factory that Alita and Hugo are now currently in. One day Nana asked Hugo to go to the market to buy some things, when he came back the balloon was on fire and his brother was dead. A HW was there: Lee (guy with face tattoos and red scarf). His brother`s body and head was taken away, but not his wristwatch, Hugo picked it up and kept it as a memento. Present time: Alita gives Hugo the chips she`s earned. Listening to Hugo`s story seems to have changed Chiren`s mind. The rain has stopped. Hugo goes outside and looks at Zalem. It`s finally happening, he`s finally gonna get to- STAB!
He is stabbed by Lee. Lee`s about to decapitate him when Alita comes to the rescue. They fight. Chiren watches fight from a distance. Alita defeats Lee with her plasma cutters. Alita holds a dying Hugo in her arms, someone shows up, it`s Chiren.Iron City: Alita jumps from rooftop to rooftop holding Hugo`s body over her right shoulder and something in a sack in her left arm. Zapan stops her. He`s brought a deckman with him to act as a witness. Alita opens the sack with her mouth (her hands being full) and shows Hugo`s head. The deckman confirms that Alita has done her duty. Zapan thinks someting`s fishy and throws away Hugo`s body. He sees tubes going from Alita`s chest to Hugo`s head. The deckman warns Zapan from stealing another HW`s prey. Alita steals Zapan`s damascus blade and cuts his face off with it, he stumbles backwards from the shock and falls from the roof. Alita tells the deckman that she`ll bury the head instead of cashing it in. Vector`s place: Chiren tells him Hugo was killed by a HW and that Alita`s hard to find, she`ll need more time. As she is about to leave, Vector tells her that he`ll send her to Zalem. Ido`s clinic: Hugo`s head is on a robot body. Alita tells Ido that connecting Hugo`s head to her chest was Chiren`s idea. Flashback: Chiren has already performed the procedure. She looks at her angel necklace nostalgically and tells Alita that she helped her because she`s a doctor and deep down, not that different from her: a sentimental fool. Flashback ends. Hugo wakes up, sees his robot body and that his wristwatch is gone. Ido tells Alita that the idea of buying passage to Zalem is a lie, he knows, being a former citizen of Zalem. Hugo hears all of this. Alita goes to have a talk with Vector, she takes her damascus blade with her. Vector`s place: Alita barges in and confronts Vector. He reveals that he CAN send people to Zalem, (he opens a container filled with human organs in preservation tubes) just not in one piece. Vector reveals that this is to fulfill a monthly quota that comes down from Zalem. Alita sees Chiren`s necklace, realizes who`s organs are in those tubes and wants to kill Vector. Grewishka shows up, Vector flees, Alita fights and kills Grewishka. She returns home, Gerhad tells her that Hugo is gone, Alita thinks she know where he is.The nearest factory connected to a tube that leads to Zalem: Alita has arrived and sees three giant rings with spikes on them. A deckman explains that those are Defense rings (AKA: "rat rings") an automatic defense system that keeps Zalem safe from rats and other vermin from the ground. This one has made it through three rings. Halfway to Zalem: Hugo has lost both his feet but he keeps on crawling, determined to reach Zalem. Alita has caught up to him. She tries to reason with him and eventually convinces him that they can find a way to live in Iron City together. A defense ring comes hurtling down the tube. Hugo is shredded by it and thrown into the air. Leaping after him, Alita manages to grab his remaining arm and use her blade to secure herself to the tube. His elbow joints can`t hold however and break loose, but not before he says his goodbye, leaving her on the tube clutching his forearm. The next day: They found a backbone for Emmet so now he can walk again. Alita and Ido travel outside Zalem, they place Hugo's forearm and Chiren's necklace into a basket attached to a balloon, and release it in the direction of Zalem. Mid-credit scene: A secret lab: a scientist watches the security camera footage of Alita and Hugo leaving Zalem, he focuses on Alita and eats his flan. It`s Desty Nova.
If you like Alita that`s great. This is not meant to persuade you to not like it. I like it myself.
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dinafbrownil · 4 years
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‘Baby, I Can’t Breathe’: America’s First ER Doctor To Die In Heat Of COVID-19 Battle
At about 5 a.m. on March 19, a New York City ER physician named Frank Gabrin texted a friend about his concerns over the lack of medical supplies at hospitals.
“It’s busy ― everyone wants a COVID test that I do not have to give them,” he wrote in the message to Eddy Soffer. “So they are angry and disappointed.”
Worse, though, was the limited availability of personal protective equipment (PPE) — the masks and gloves that help keep health care workers from getting sick and spreading the virus to others. Gabrin said he had no choice but to don the same mask for several shifts, against Food and Drug Administration guidelines.
“Don’t have any PPE that has not been used,” he wrote. “No N95 masks ― my own goggles — my own face shield,” he added, referring to the N95 respirators considered among the best lines of defense.
Frank Gabrin’s messages to Eddy Soffer.(Courtesy of Eddy Soffer)
Less than two weeks later, Gabrin became the first ER doctor in the U.S. known to have died as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic, according to the American College of Emergency Physicians.
He is one of numerous medical workers across the U.S. who have succumbed to the virus, from doctors and nurses to paramedics and hospital food service employees. The Guardian and Kaiser Health News are launching a new project, “Lost on the Frontline,” to track them and tell their stories.
New York City-area hospitals have been particularly hard-hit. More than one-third of all U.S. cases have occurred in New York state. At a hospital in the borough of Queens, patients have reportedly died while waiting for a bed, and a temporary trailer morgue was set up outside. Physicians at another hospital system created a GoFundMe drive because they had insufficient masks and gowns.
Gabrin knew the stakes of his job. “Inside the emergency, the angel of death is in the room,” he wrote in his 2013 book, “Back From Burnout.” “The pressure is intense, yet there is a calm, a peace, like being in the eye of the storm.”
His own resilience was hard-won after several close brushes with mortality, and his marriage to a special man only seven months prior to the COVID-19 spike in New York. But circumstances around the coronavirus unsettled him. “I have to admit,” he posted on Facebook, “I am having some anxiety.”
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‘He Showed Me The Light’
Toothy and energetic, Gabrin, 60, was adored by colleagues at hospitals in Ohio, New York and elsewhere. He was loud. He always arrived at work bearing food to share. He was “a ray of sunshine,” said physician assistant Lois-Ann Welsh, and possessed the “emotional intelligence” that differentiated a great doctor from merely a good one.
“I don’t hold any fancy titles and I am not the director of anything,” Gabrin explained in his book. “But I can say that I have spent the last quarter of a century at the bedside of America’s sick, injured, intoxicated, impaired and disenfranchised.”
Born in Pennsylvania, Gabrin was a physician by calling, and his mother had photographs of him as a child tending to neighborhood dogs. His commitment to his profession was strengthened by his own illness. During his first year as an attending physician, he was diagnosed with testicular cancer. He survived, but it returned when he was 38. Both testicles were eventually removed ― he called it “the mutilating surgery.” Even so, he resolved to offer others the second chance that he himself received twice.
This, and an incident when a man tried to kill Gabrin at his ER, choking him so that he “started turning purple in the face,” helped lead to Gabrin’s unique professional philosophy. He described it in his book, explaining how medics can overcome burnout and feel greater compassion for their patients.
A huge shift in his life came a few years ago, when at a nightclub he met Arnold Vargas, a Peruvian who had lived in the U.S. for a decade.
Arnold Vargas and Frank Gabrin. ‘I saw [Gabrin] the happiest with Angel,’ says Eddy Soffer.(Courtesy of Arnold Vargas)
“I saw [Gabrin] the happiest with Angel,” said Eddy Soffer, using Vargas’ middle name, as Gabrin did. “All his fear dissipated and he became his true self.”
“I think it gave me a second chance,” said Vargas, now 28. “He showed me the light — how beautiful my life can be.” He had been miserable, in a rut, yet Gabrin pushed him to train in massage therapy and to apply for U.S. citizenship. There was an age difference, but to Vargas, who felt enriched by Gabrin and his experiences, it was irrelevant. “I was always thinking, ‘I just want to make you happy,’ and he did the same for me.”
They married in August 2019 at City Hall in New York.
‘It’s Not Going To Be This Way Forever’
When infections in New York surged in March, Gabrin posted a picture of ambulances crowding a hospital bay on Facebook. “I was thinking, ‘Oh my God, this is the moment Armageddon happens,’” said Debra Vasalech Lyons, another old friend. “He said, ‘No, it’s still manageable, but it’s not going to be this way forever.’”
In fact, St. John’s Episcopal in Queens, one of two hospitals where Gabrin worked at the time, was among local facilities “dealing with challenges around PPE,” said New York City Council member Donovan Richards. The hospital says it has always had enough equipment for staff.
Richards linked difficult conditions there to historical discrimination and underresourcing in the largely African American and Hispanic district. “When America gets a cold, black and brown communities get pneumonia,” Richards said. “But in this instance, we are getting death sentences.”
The other hospital at which Gabrin was employed, East Orange General in New Jersey, served a majority African American community, and also had a devoted staff that before the virus had struggled to maintain care standards.
In conversations with his husband and friends in mid- and late March, including in text messages shared with The Guardian, Gabrin said he had to reuse his PPE because he did not receive replacements. He told Lyons that he was attempting to wash an N95 mask to make it last several shifts, and that the only gloves available were too small for his hands and ripped.
When America gets a cold, black and brown communities get pneumonia. But in this instance, we are getting death sentences.
Donovan Richards, New York City Council member
Lyons mailed him gloves in the correct size from Florida, where she lives, and ordered 4 gallons of hand sanitizer for him. On Facebook, Gabrin wrote about concocting his own sanitizer from vodka and aloe vera plants.
The heads of the two emergency rooms where Gabrin worked both said they had sufficient supplies of protective equipment.
“I know for one thing he wasn’t speaking about a lack of PPE at St. John’s,” said Dr. Teddy Lee, the ER chairman there.
“If for a second I thought that was our problem at East Orange, I would tell you otherwise,” said ER chairman Dr. Alvaro Alban.
On March 25, when Gabrin arrived home, “he said, ‘Baby, something bad happened tonight,’” Vargas recalled. A coronavirus patient with whom Gabrin formed a deep connection had passed away. Gabrin took a shower and cried, then he and Vargas offered a prayer for the person’s soul.
Frank Gabrin’s messages to Debra Vasalech Lyons.(Courtesy of Debra Vasalech Lyons)
The next morning, a Thursday, they both had symptoms and self-quarantined. “It was me using the same mask for four days in a row that infected me,” he texted Lyons. Through the weekend, their cases seemed mild. Gabrin coughed and had joint aches but didn’t have significant respiratory issues. On Monday, though, Gabrin was in greater pain and spent the day in bed.
At around 10 a.m. on Tuesday, he woke Vargas and said, “Baby, I can’t breathe, help me.”
He was gasping for air in great, hoarse breaths, but could not get enough oxygen. Vargas called Lyons and 911. But by the time paramedics arrived, Gabrin was on the edge of death, or had already gone. His face had turned purple.
Frank “passed away in my arms,” Vargas said. “He was looking into my eyes.”
Vargas himself eventually recovered. On Tuesday, two weeks after his death, Gabrin will be buried at Maple Grove Cemetery in Queens.
Owing to the need for physical distancing, Vargas was told, only 10 mourners will be allowed.
The headstone, Vargas expects, will bear a middle name that Gabrin adopted through his decades-old interest in Kabbalah, the Jewish mystical tradition. That name, Pinchas, now seems poignant.
It comes from a biblical figure who halted a plague.
This story is part of Lost On The Frontline, a project from The Guardian and Kaiser Health News that aims to document the life of every healthcare worker in America who dies from COVID-19 during the pandemic. We’ll be sharing more about the project soon, but if you have a colleague or loved one we should include, please email [email protected].
from Updates By Dina https://khn.org/news/baby-i-cant-breathe-americas-first-er-doctor-to-die-in-heat-of-covid-19-battle/
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gordonwilliamsweb · 4 years
Text
‘Baby, I Can’t Breathe’: America’s First ER Doctor To Die In Heat Of COVID-19 Battle
At about 5 a.m. on March 19, a New York City ER physician named Frank Gabrin texted a friend about his concerns over the lack of medical supplies at hospitals.
“It’s busy ― everyone wants a COVID test that I do not have to give them,” he wrote in the message to Eddy Soffer. “So they are angry and disappointed.”
Worse, though, was the limited availability of personal protective equipment (PPE) — the masks and gloves that help keep health care workers from getting sick and spreading the virus to others. Gabrin said he had no choice but to don the same mask for several shifts, against Food and Drug Administration guidelines.
“Don’t have any PPE that has not been used,” he wrote. “No N95 masks ― my own goggles — my own face shield,” he added, referring to the N95 respirators considered among the best lines of defense.
Frank Gabrin’s messages to Eddy Soffer.(Courtesy of Eddy Soffer)
Less than two weeks later, Gabrin became the first ER doctor in the U.S. known to have died as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic, according to the American College of Emergency Physicians.
He is one of numerous medical workers across the U.S. who have succumbed to the virus, from doctors and nurses to paramedics and hospital food service employees. The Guardian and Kaiser Health News are launching a new project, “Lost on the Frontline,” to track them and tell their stories.
New York City-area hospitals have been particularly hard-hit. More than one-third of all U.S. cases have occurred in New York state. At a hospital in the borough of Queens, patients have reportedly died while waiting for a bed, and a temporary trailer morgue was set up outside. Physicians at another hospital system created a GoFundMe drive because they had insufficient masks and gowns.
Gabrin knew the stakes of his job. “Inside the emergency, the angel of death is in the room,” he wrote in his 2013 book, “Back From Burnout.” “The pressure is intense, yet there is a calm, a peace, like being in the eye of the storm.”
His own resilience was hard-won after several close brushes with mortality, and his marriage to a special man only seven months prior to the COVID-19 spike in New York. But circumstances around the coronavirus unsettled him. “I have to admit,” he posted on Facebook, “I am having some anxiety.”
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‘He Showed Me The Light’
Toothy and energetic, Gabrin, 60, was adored by colleagues at hospitals in Ohio, New York and elsewhere. He was loud. He always arrived at work bearing food to share. He was “a ray of sunshine,” said physician assistant Lois-Ann Welsh, and possessed the “emotional intelligence” that differentiated a great doctor from merely a good one.
“I don’t hold any fancy titles and I am not the director of anything,” Gabrin explained in his book. “But I can say that I have spent the last quarter of a century at the bedside of America’s sick, injured, intoxicated, impaired and disenfranchised.”
Born in Pennsylvania, Gabrin was a physician by calling, and his mother had photographs of him as a child tending to neighborhood dogs. His commitment to his profession was strengthened by his own illness. During his first year as an attending physician, he was diagnosed with testicular cancer. He survived, but it returned when he was 38. Both testicles were eventually removed ― he called it “the mutilating surgery.” Even so, he resolved to offer others the second chance that he himself received twice.
This, and an incident when a man tried to kill Gabrin at his ER, choking him so that he “started turning purple in the face,” helped lead to Gabrin’s unique professional philosophy. He described it in his book, explaining how medics can overcome burnout and feel greater compassion for their patients.
A huge shift in his life came a few years ago, when at a nightclub he met Arnold Vargas, a Peruvian who had lived in the U.S. for a decade.
Arnold Vargas and Frank Gabrin. ‘I saw [Gabrin] the happiest with Angel,’ says Eddy Soffer.(Courtesy of Arnold Vargas)
“I saw [Gabrin] the happiest with Angel,” said Eddy Soffer, using Vargas’ middle name, as Gabrin did. “All his fear dissipated and he became his true self.”
“I think it gave me a second chance,” said Vargas, now 28. “He showed me the light — how beautiful my life can be.” He had been miserable, in a rut, yet Gabrin pushed him to train in massage therapy and to apply for U.S. citizenship. There was an age difference, but to Vargas, who felt enriched by Gabrin and his experiences, it was irrelevant. “I was always thinking, ‘I just want to make you happy,’ and he did the same for me.”
They married in August 2019 at City Hall in New York.
‘It’s Not Going To Be This Way Forever’
When infections in New York surged in March, Gabrin posted a picture of ambulances crowding a hospital bay on Facebook. “I was thinking, ‘Oh my God, this is the moment Armageddon happens,’” said Debra Vasalech Lyons, another old friend. “He said, ‘No, it’s still manageable, but it’s not going to be this way forever.’”
In fact, St. John’s Episcopal in Queens, one of two hospitals where Gabrin worked at the time, was among local facilities “dealing with challenges around PPE,” said New York City Council member Donovan Richards. The hospital says it has always had enough equipment for staff.
Richards linked difficult conditions there to historical discrimination and underresourcing in the largely African American and Hispanic district. “When America gets a cold, black and brown communities get pneumonia,” Richards said. “But in this instance, we are getting death sentences.”
The other hospital at which Gabrin was employed, East Orange General in New Jersey, served a majority African American community, and also had a devoted staff that before the virus had struggled to maintain care standards.
In conversations with his husband and friends in mid- and late March, including in text messages shared with The Guardian, Gabrin said he had to reuse his PPE because he did not receive replacements. He told Lyons that he was attempting to wash an N95 mask to make it last several shifts, and that the only gloves available were too small for his hands and ripped.
When America gets a cold, black and brown communities get pneumonia. But in this instance, we are getting death sentences.
Donovan Richards, New York City Council member
Lyons mailed him gloves in the correct size from Florida, where she lives, and ordered 4 gallons of hand sanitizer for him. On Facebook, Gabrin wrote about concocting his own sanitizer from vodka and aloe vera plants.
The heads of the two emergency rooms where Gabrin worked both said they had sufficient supplies of protective equipment.
“I know for one thing he wasn’t speaking about a lack of PPE at St. John’s,” said Dr. Teddy Lee, the ER chairman there.
“If for a second I thought that was our problem at East Orange, I would tell you otherwise,” said ER chairman Dr. Alvaro Alban.
On March 25, when Gabrin arrived home, “he said, ‘Baby, something bad happened tonight,’” Vargas recalled. A coronavirus patient with whom Gabrin formed a deep connection had passed away. Gabrin took a shower and cried, then he and Vargas offered a prayer for the person’s soul.
Frank Gabrin’s messages to Debra Vasalech Lyons.(Courtesy of Debra Vasalech Lyons)
The next morning, a Thursday, they both had symptoms and self-quarantined. “It was me using the same mask for four days in a row that infected me,” he texted Lyons. Through the weekend, their cases seemed mild. Gabrin coughed and had joint aches but didn’t have significant respiratory issues. On Monday, though, Gabrin was in greater pain and spent the day in bed.
At around 10 a.m. on Tuesday, he woke Vargas and said, “Baby, I can’t breathe, help me.”
He was gasping for air in great, hoarse breaths, but could not get enough oxygen. Vargas called Lyons and 911. But by the time paramedics arrived, Gabrin was on the edge of death, or had already gone. His face had turned purple.
Frank “passed away in my arms,” Vargas said. “He was looking into my eyes.”
Vargas himself eventually recovered. On Tuesday, two weeks after his death, Gabrin will be buried at Maple Grove Cemetery in Queens.
Owing to the need for physical distancing, Vargas was told, only 10 mourners will be allowed.
The headstone, Vargas expects, will bear a middle name that Gabrin adopted through his decades-old interest in Kabbalah, the Jewish mystical tradition. That name, Pinchas, now seems poignant.
It comes from a biblical figure who halted a plague.
This story is part of Lost On The Frontline, a project from The Guardian and Kaiser Health News that aims to document the life of every healthcare worker in America who dies from COVID-19 during the pandemic. We’ll be sharing more about the project soon, but if you have a colleague or loved one we should include, please email [email protected].
‘Baby, I Can’t Breathe’: America’s First ER Doctor To Die In Heat Of COVID-19 Battle published first on https://nootropicspowdersupplier.tumblr.com/
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stephenmccull · 4 years
Text
‘Baby, I Can’t Breathe’: America’s First ER Doctor To Die In Heat Of COVID-19 Battle
At about 5 a.m. on March 19, a New York City ER physician named Frank Gabrin texted a friend about his concerns over the lack of medical supplies at hospitals.
“It’s busy ― everyone wants a COVID test that I do not have to give them,” he wrote in the message to Eddy Soffer. “So they are angry and disappointed.”
Worse, though, was the limited availability of personal protective equipment (PPE) — the masks and gloves that help keep health care workers from getting sick and spreading the virus to others. Gabrin said he had no choice but to don the same mask for several shifts, against Food and Drug Administration guidelines.
“Don’t have any PPE that has not been used,” he wrote. “No N95 masks ― my own goggles — my own face shield,” he added, referring to the N95 respirators considered among the best lines of defense.
Frank Gabrin’s messages to Eddy Soffer.(Courtesy of Eddy Soffer)
Less than two weeks later, Gabrin became the first ER doctor in the U.S. known to have died as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic, according to the American College of Emergency Physicians.
He is one of numerous medical workers across the U.S. who have succumbed to the virus, from doctors and nurses to paramedics and hospital food service employees. The Guardian and Kaiser Health News are launching a new project, “Lost on the Frontline,” to track them and tell their stories.
New York City-area hospitals have been particularly hard-hit. More than one-third of all U.S. cases have occurred in New York state. At a hospital in the borough of Queens, patients have reportedly died while waiting for a bed, and a temporary trailer morgue was set up outside. Physicians at another hospital system created a GoFundMe drive because they had insufficient masks and gowns.
Gabrin knew the stakes of his job. “Inside the emergency, the angel of death is in the room,” he wrote in his 2013 book, “Back From Burnout.” “The pressure is intense, yet there is a calm, a peace, like being in the eye of the storm.”
His own resilience was hard-won after several close brushes with mortality, and his marriage to a special man only seven months prior to the COVID-19 spike in New York. But circumstances around the coronavirus unsettled him. “I have to admit,” he posted on Facebook, “I am having some anxiety.”
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‘He Showed Me The Light’
Toothy and energetic, Gabrin, 60, was adored by colleagues at hospitals in Ohio, New York and elsewhere. He was loud. He always arrived at work bearing food to share. He was “a ray of sunshine,” said physician assistant Lois-Ann Welsh, and possessed the “emotional intelligence” that differentiated a great doctor from merely a good one.
“I don’t hold any fancy titles and I am not the director of anything,” Gabrin explained in his book. “But I can say that I have spent the last quarter of a century at the bedside of America’s sick, injured, intoxicated, impaired and disenfranchised.”
Born in Pennsylvania, Gabrin was a physician by calling, and his mother had photographs of him as a child tending to neighborhood dogs. His commitment to his profession was strengthened by his own illness. During his first year as an attending physician, he was diagnosed with testicular cancer. He survived, but it returned when he was 38. Both testicles were eventually removed ― he called it “the mutilating surgery.” Even so, he resolved to offer others the second chance that he himself received twice.
This, and an incident when a man tried to kill Gabrin at his ER, choking him so that he “started turning purple in the face,” helped lead to Gabrin’s unique professional philosophy. He described it in his book, explaining how medics can overcome burnout and feel greater compassion for their patients.
A huge shift in his life came a few years ago, when at a nightclub he met Arnold Vargas, a Peruvian who had lived in the U.S. for a decade.
Arnold Vargas and Frank Gabrin. ‘I saw [Gabrin] the happiest with Angel,’ says Eddy Soffer.(Courtesy of Arnold Vargas)
“I saw [Gabrin] the happiest with Angel,” said Eddy Soffer, using Vargas’ middle name, as Gabrin did. “All his fear dissipated and he became his true self.”
“I think it gave me a second chance,” said Vargas, now 28. “He showed me the light — how beautiful my life can be.” He had been miserable, in a rut, yet Gabrin pushed him to train in massage therapy and to apply for U.S. citizenship. There was an age difference, but to Vargas, who felt enriched by Gabrin and his experiences, it was irrelevant. “I was always thinking, ‘I just want to make you happy,’ and he did the same for me.”
They married in August 2019 at City Hall in New York.
‘It’s Not Going To Be This Way Forever’
When infections in New York surged in March, Gabrin posted a picture of ambulances crowding a hospital bay on Facebook. “I was thinking, ‘Oh my God, this is the moment Armageddon happens,’” said Debra Vasalech Lyons, another old friend. “He said, ‘No, it’s still manageable, but it’s not going to be this way forever.’”
In fact, St. John’s Episcopal in Queens, one of two hospitals where Gabrin worked at the time, was among local facilities “dealing with challenges around PPE,” said New York City Council member Donovan Richards. The hospital says it has always had enough equipment for staff.
Richards linked difficult conditions there to historical discrimination and underresourcing in the largely African American and Hispanic district. “When America gets a cold, black and brown communities get pneumonia,” Richards said. “But in this instance, we are getting death sentences.”
The other hospital at which Gabrin was employed, East Orange General in New Jersey, served a majority African American community, and also had a devoted staff that before the virus had struggled to maintain care standards.
In conversations with his husband and friends in mid- and late March, including in text messages shared with The Guardian, Gabrin said he had to reuse his PPE because he did not receive replacements. He told Lyons that he was attempting to wash an N95 mask to make it last several shifts, and that the only gloves available were too small for his hands and ripped.
When America gets a cold, black and brown communities get pneumonia. But in this instance, we are getting death sentences.
Donovan Richards, New York City Council member
Lyons mailed him gloves in the correct size from Florida, where she lives, and ordered 4 gallons of hand sanitizer for him. On Facebook, Gabrin wrote about concocting his own sanitizer from vodka and aloe vera plants.
The heads of the two emergency rooms where Gabrin worked both said they had sufficient supplies of protective equipment.
“I know for one thing he wasn’t speaking about a lack of PPE at St. John’s,” said Dr. Teddy Lee, the ER chairman there.
“If for a second I thought that was our problem at East Orange, I would tell you otherwise,” said ER chairman Dr. Alvaro Alban.
On March 25, when Gabrin arrived home, “he said, ‘Baby, something bad happened tonight,’” Vargas recalled. A coronavirus patient with whom Gabrin formed a deep connection had passed away. Gabrin took a shower and cried, then he and Vargas offered a prayer for the person’s soul.
Frank Gabrin’s messages to Debra Vasalech Lyons.(Courtesy of Debra Vasalech Lyons)
The next morning, a Thursday, they both had symptoms and self-quarantined. “It was me using the same mask for four days in a row that infected me,” he texted Lyons. Through the weekend, their cases seemed mild. Gabrin coughed and had joint aches but didn’t have significant respiratory issues. On Monday, though, Gabrin was in greater pain and spent the day in bed.
At around 10 a.m. on Tuesday, he woke Vargas and said, “Baby, I can’t breathe, help me.”
He was gasping for air in great, hoarse breaths, but could not get enough oxygen. Vargas called Lyons and 911. But by the time paramedics arrived, Gabrin was on the edge of death, or had already gone. His face had turned purple.
Frank “passed away in my arms,” Vargas said. “He was looking into my eyes.”
Vargas himself eventually recovered. On Tuesday, two weeks after his death, Gabrin will be buried at Maple Grove Cemetery in Queens.
Owing to the need for physical distancing, Vargas was told, only 10 mourners will be allowed.
The headstone, Vargas expects, will bear a middle name that Gabrin adopted through his decades-old interest in Kabbalah, the Jewish mystical tradition. That name, Pinchas, now seems poignant.
It comes from a biblical figure who halted a plague.
This story is part of Lost On The Frontline, a project from The Guardian and Kaiser Health News that aims to document the life of every healthcare worker in America who dies from COVID-19 during the pandemic. We’ll be sharing more about the project soon, but if you have a colleague or loved one we should include, please email [email protected].
‘Baby, I Can’t Breathe’: America’s First ER Doctor To Die In Heat Of COVID-19 Battle published first on https://smartdrinkingweb.weebly.com/
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floraexplorer · 5 years
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28 Things You’ll Learn on an East Coast Canada Road Trip
I’d never been to the east coast of Canada before I road-tripped through it.
In fact, I’d never visited Canada at all – but I’d always wanted to. Up until a few weeks ago, Canada still existed in my mind as a maple-syrup-soaked land of giant moose and friendly locals: essentially, a stereotypical dream. And when the plan of road tripping along Canada’s east coast emerged, I envisioned a highway dotted with Tim Hortons, ice rinks and, again, giant moose.
But over the course of a fortnight, my photographer friend Kim and I drove along the open highways of Nova Scotia and Newfoundland & Labrador, searching for every story we could find – and the stereotypes fell away in favour of something better.
Our search for stories led us to riding ATVs through tall grass and foraging for cloudberries in soggy marshland. To jigging for cod on a tiny fishing boat, wrapped inside a blanket of fog. To kayaking in the Atlantic ocean alongside the bobbing heads of sleek-bodied seals. To walking with ghosts in darkened cemeteries with lost German names inscribed on slabs of broken slate. To rising earlier than the light and hiking past stone stacks at sunrise. To drinking tea from china cups beside beach bonfires and toasting each other with homemade scones and jam.
And then there were the people: a seemingly never-ending stream of Nova Scotians and Newfoundlanders who are, truly, some of the most immediately friendly strangers I’ve ever met.
But the road was the central thread of this journey: following those painted strips of yellow line vanishing beneath our car tyres, the constant banks of trees broken up by a succession of unfamiliar names on roadsigns, and an ever-present stretch of asphalt winding out like a ribbon before us. And it also acting like a framework, allowing us to get to grips with Atlantic Canada from a fascinating perspective.
Here’s what we learned from a two week road trip across east coast Canada.
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Atlantic Canada will remind you of a dozen different places.
The east coast of Canada is comprised of four provinces: Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island (PEI), New Brunswick and Newfoundland & Labrador. Those first three are also called the Maritime provinces – the easternmost province of Newfoundland & Labrador only joined Canada in 1949, so it’s not included in that grouping.
These Atlantic provinces are clearly influenced by the different cultures of people who settled here – Scottish, Irish, English and French – along with the First Nations who have always called this part of Canada home. You’ll see these different cultures reflected in people’s accents, surnames, and names of locations: like the Irish brogue of Newfoundlanders, or the signs to places like Lower Shoal Highway, Little Heart’s Ease and Bear Nation River.
The landscapes are like Ireland and Scotland…
In Nova Scotia, we often mentioned we’d be visiting Newfoundland & Labrador next – and everyone said the same thing: that Newfoundland was exactly like Ireland.
This island province has the most stunning landscapes: wide sweeps of coastal cliffs, deep stretches of pockmarked earth, and sudden forests under vast expanses of sky. Fascinatingly, Newfoundland & Labrador is home to some of the oldest fossils on the planet, thanks to its history as a place where the continental plates collided.
… But the buildings look like they’re lifted from northern Norway.
Every time we passed one of the tiny fishing huts (called ‘stages’) which are dotted along Atlantic Canada’s coastline, I continually thought of the similar little red-roofed buildings in northern Norway.
It always makes me happy to draw parallels between two different parts of the world – and it makes sense in this case. Both Atlantic Canada and Arctic Norway rely heavily on fishing, hence why they position their buildings right above the water.
There aren’t many cars, and the road is often empty.
For long stretches of our driving days in both Nova Scotia and Newfoundland, we were treated to virtually empty roads. On the plus side, this meant maximum views of the surrounding landscape – but on the downside, we couldn’t play as many car games prompted by the vehicles around us (a firm favourite of mine is guessing what kind of person is driving based on their numberplate letters).
Luckily, Kim was treated to my second-favourite car game: the alphabet-based “I went to the supermarket” – except with a Canadian theme. This game pulled us through about two hours of driving at the end of our trip, along with a serious case of hysteria…
Your car snacks will all include maple in some form.
All good road trips need an assortment of local snacks for munching on. Keep a box of maple biscuits in the car for emergencies (along with some maple butter cereal bars for real emergencies).
The weather can change in an instant (especially in Newfoundland!)
Dressing for weather in the Maritime provinces is an education. We had constant blue skies and bright sunshine in Nova Scotia, but on arrival in Newfoundland our plane touched down in a thick soup of heavy fog.
Newfoundland is famed for its quick-to-change weather, thanks to the contrast with sea and air temperatures. The fog comes out of nowhere – but it can also fade away again pretty quickly.
Sadly, there’s a fair amount of roadkill.
In Nova Scotia, there were multiple occasions when I suddenly shouted, “Raccoon!” “Possum!” “Ohh… it’s a porcupine..!”
Seeing a little pile of upended quills perhaps isn’t the best way to see my first ever porcupine in the wild: unfortunately the highway is a dangerous spot for many Canadian animals, and it’s often the last resting place for the aforementioned critters – along with snakes, groundhogs and skunks.
Thankfully I was much happier in Newfoundland, as there’s barely any roadkill to be seen.
Luckily there’s also plenty of Canadian wildlife that’s alive and well!
It’s extremely tantalising to know that the forests on either side of the road could be filled with brown bears and moose (even if they’re hiding from view whenever you look). But there’s lots of other animals happily enjoying life in Atlantic Canada.
On our kayaking adventures in Blue Rocks, Nova Scotia, we watched the seals swim, surface and dunk themselves beneath the water again, and during a boat tour in New Bonaventure, Newfoundland, I saw my first ever bald eagle sat in the top of a far-off tree – which then took off in flight right in front of us. All my photos are way too blurry but I was so happy!
But the best wildlife sighting has to be in Elliston, NL, where an entire rock’s surface is covered in puffins. We sat on the rain-soaked grass and time seemed to stop as we watched these adorable little birds zoom around – and eventually a pair decided to land right in front of us. At the same moment, there were three or four whales in the ocean just beyond, their bodies and bursts of bubbles repeatedly appearing above the water’s surface.
I could have sat there all day long.
You’ll want to see moose – but also you DON’T want to see moose.
My not-so-secret predominant wish for our Canada trip was to see a moose casually mooching along the highway as we drove past. Kim, who was coincidentally doing all the driving, was not so keen. Particularly when I showed her this viral video of a moose in Alaska.
We didn’t end up seeing any moose in the end – and I’m actually quite grateful, because these guys are no joke.
Searching for coffee shops with espresso machines can lead you to some adorable cafes…
On a roadtrip, a caffeine hit in the mornings is basically mandatory – so Kim and I made it our mission to sample good coffee wherever we went. We’ve both spent our adulthoods drinking espresso coffee, but in the more rural parts of Atlantic Canada (particularly in Newfoundland) it proved quite difficult to find coffee shops which served cappuccinos and lattes.
Don’t give up the search though! Our need for caffeine often led us to some lovely places – like The Two Whales Coffee Shop in Port Rexton, NL, the Laughing Whale Coffee Roasters in Lunenberg, NS, and T.A.N. Coffee in Windsor, part of an alternative coffee shop chain in Nova Scotia.
… But you will inevitably find yourself inside a Tim Hortons.
Tim Hortons is a quintessentially Canadian chain and there are thousands of Tim Hortons stores across Canada. We automatically tried to avoid them in pursuit of the aforementioned independent coffee shops – but one foggy morning it was the only place serving coffee for miles around.
I’m glad we ended up there, because it turns out the coffee is pretty damn good. And the Timbits (delicious bite-sized doughnut holes in all kinds of flavours) aren’t to be sniffed at, either.
Sampling Canada’s fast food chains is a worthy endeavour.
If you’re going to try the Timbits from Tim Hortons, then you also need to try Canada’s other fast food offerings.
On our first day in Halifax we went straight to a poutine shop, sharing a box filled with chips smothered in cheese curds, pulled pork and gravy. It was sinfully delicious – and within 24 hours we’d also made our way to BeaverTails.
Inspired by Canada’s unofficial mascot animal, this pastry shop makes Canadian doughnuts and pastries, including their hand-stretched doughy namesake. I sampled a beavertail-wrapped hot dog while walking along the Halifax waterfront and it was way too tasty for its own good.
You could feasibly eat fresh lobster for every meal…
When dinnertime rolls around in Atlantic Canada, there’s always lobster in some format on the menu. Lobster poutine, lobster mac & cheese, lobster rolls, the infamous ‘Lunenburger’ (a beef burger topped with lobster and a scallop, served in its namesake town of Lunenburg, NS), lobster tagliatelle, or the pièce de résistance — an entire lobster.
If you have lunch at Hall’s Harbour Lobster Pound in the Bay of Fundy you’ll get the chance to meet Lowell, who gives you a behind-the-scenes tour of the lobster pound and regales you with fascinating lobster facts while wearing beautifully themed lobster socks.
Lowell will also introduce you to the biggest (live) lobster you’ve ever seen: he’s called Albert, and his claw is bigger than Lowell’s foot.
Or you can just stuff yourself with seafood.
I’ve spent the last few years trying to give up most meat, but I still fail miserably at avoiding seafood. Being pescatarian feels more acceptable when you’re right beside the ocean – so I full-on indulged. After two weeks of delicious seafood at every meal, I don’t think I can eat mussels, scallops, or chowder again for a while…
In Atlantic Canada, the word ‘fish’ always means ‘cod’.
The importance of cod in Canada’s history cannot be overstated. Once the most-fished-for fish in the country because it was so plentiful, decades of over-fishing eventually led to a ‘cod moratorium’ in 1992, which banned cod fishing throughout Canada.
It was the biggest fisheries collapse in world history: it put over 40,000 people out of work overnight, decimated hundreds of coastal communities and irreparably changed the social landscape of east coast Canada, particularly in Newfoundland.
Almost thirty years later, Atlantic cod isn’t extinct but it’s still officially vulnerable. The government have now allowed the recreational fishing of cod but the fishery as an industry remains closed.
If you visit Newfoundland & Labrador, prepare to kiss the cod. Seriously. 
This province have taken their love of cod to a whole new level: it’s a crucial part of a tradition called the ‘Screech-in’ which welcomes visitors to the island.
On our third night in St John’s (and after a number of pints at the Yellowbelly Brewery), our blogger friend Candice took us to George Street for our official screech-in ceremony. We stood in a circle amongst a bunch of other visitors while a giant of a man dressed in fisherman’s gear slapped a huge wooden paddle against his flattened palm and shouted out lines of a poem, which we had to shout back in repetition.
One by one we kneeled down, then kissed a frozen cod held in front of us – which was swiftly followed by downing a shot of Screech rum. And just like that, we were honorary Newfoundlanders!
There are huge lighthouses all along the coast…
If you love lighthouses, you’re in luck. Atlantic Canada is famed for its lighthouses, and there’s even an easily-followable lighthouse route along the Nova Scotia coastline.
We stopped in at a fair few lighthouses during our trip, including the famed Peggy’s Point Lighthouse at Peggy’s Cove, just outside of Halifax. The Nova Scotia Lighthouse Preservation Society has a comprehensive list of which lighthouses are open to the public (including a few where you can spend the night!)
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…and you’ll see much smaller lighthouses too.
Miniature lighthouses seemed to be a typically Canadian thing which I didn’t quite understand, but was nonetheless totally happy about (particularly when I asked Google, “‘why does Canada love lawn lighthouses’ and found this guy).
We passed multiple houses with tiny lighthouse statues set on their front lawns – and when they also featured Canadian flags it was even better.
You’ll see the same outdoor deckchairs everywhere you look.
Adirondack chairs are perhaps my favourite discovery from the east coast of Canada. When I first spotted them along the Halifax waterfront I assumed they were only a city-wide thing, but we quickly realised that these wide colourful deckchairs are all over the place.
I’ve tried to learn their origin and why Canada loves them so much, but the best info I could come up with was this: to celebrate Canada’s 150th anniversary in 2017, Parks Canada placed 150 all-weather Adirondack chairs across the country in an effort to connect Canadians with nature.
Adirondack chairs are usually in pairs of two or groups of three. We saw them on the front porches of hotels and private homes, at the ends of docks and beside lakes – even on hiking trails – and the ultimate reward was scoring a pair of chairs at Halifax airport on our five hour layover before flying back to London!
There’s a maritime museum in almost every town…
The east coast of Canada has a rich maritime history, and they’re doing a great job of informing visitors about it.
If you’re anything like me, you’ll love wandering through rooms filled with old anchors, paddle boats, buoys and dinghies, fascinating metallic artefacts made from metal and material and wood, along with dozens of crinkled photographs depicting sailors and captains from days gone by.
My favourites were the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic in Halifax, which had an entire floor dedicated to artefacts from the Titanic sinking (Halifax was the closest port to the sinking so many of the victims were brought here for burial) and the Provincial Seaman’s Museum in Grand Banks, Newfoundland, which featured a dozen different hearses on sledge blades – used when the water froze over in the 1800s.
… And there are even more cemeteries…
Atlantic Canada’s relationship to death is prominent, which makes sense when you think how many generations of fishing and sailing families have lost their loved ones to the sea. That prominence is reflected in where they choose to bury their dead, with cemeteries placed in centralised locations in pretty much every place we visited.
When we spoke to Pat Redgrave, the owner of The Garrison Inn in Annapolis Royal, NS – which sits opposite one of Canada’s oldest cemeteries with headstones dating back to 1720 – he said that in a part of the world where young fishermen often die, it’s not really possible to ignore death. As a result, the prevailing attitude of Nova Scotians and Newfoundlanders towards death seems pretty accepting.
…Which means there are ghosts (and ghost stories) everywhere.
The folklore and legends of Atlantic Canada are well-renowned – perhaps because this part of Canada has more decades of documented history than most of North America, but also because rich oral traditions are commonplace here.
Ghost walks, cemetery tours, spooky tales of hotel hauntings and faded old photos will all do their best to creep you out. I absolutely love this stuff. Kim? Not quite so much. Just outside a cemetery on our late night ghost walk through Lunenburg, NS, I made her scream when I sidled up to her to whisper, “There’s a man in that car…”
Turned out the creepy figure sat in the driver’s seat was a real human man just there to use the free outdoor wifi. It was still hilarious.
You’ll find yourself following local superstitions.
After hearing enough tales of century-old traditions and superstitious behaviour, it’s likely you’ll start following along with some of it.
During our ghost tour in Lunenburg, we learned that generations of Lunenburgers have spat on the ground when they see a single crow (which indicates bad luck) in order to beckon in a second crow (which lifts that bad luck). The next day while driving, we saw our third single crow of the day…. and both rolled down our windows to spit.
You don’t want to tempt bad luck, after all…!
If you’ve got a question, just look for the question marks.
There’s a lot of questions you can ask in eastern Canada – and thankfully the provinces are prepared for it. That’s why they’ve marked out their tourist offices with giant question marks, along with question-marked highway signs indicating you’re about to get the chance to ask some questions!
The first time we saw a question mark sign we erupted into laughter. But that could also have been roadtrip-related hysteria.
You can enjoy a rather tasty glass of local wine in Nova Scotia.
People told us that the vineyards in Nova Scotia produce wine that can rival France and California! Apparently the province’s soil and climate are perfect for growing grapes – and with more than eighteen wineries and vineyards dotted throughout Nova Scotia (particularly in Annapolis Valley), it’s becoming a burgeoning industry.
We sampled a few different red wines during our week in Nova Scotia and loved them. My favourite? The ‘Great Big Friggin’ Red’, complete with a label which reminded me of the circus.
Craft beer in Atlantic Canada is pretty fantastic too.
Aside from wine production, they’re also pretty hot on their craft beer in Atlantic Canada. There are dozens of craft breweries which made this IPA drinker very happy – I particularly liked the Garrison Tall Ship IPA and the Quidi Vidi ‘Day Boil’ Session IPA.
We spent time sampling beers at the Yellowbelly Brewery in St Johns and the nearby Quidi Vidi Brewery, but our favourite discovery was a brand-new bar set inside an old church in Wolfville, Nova Scotia (aptly named ‘Church’) with an ever-changing menu of locally brewed craft beer.
The sunrises are stunning – if you manage to wake up early enough.
The east coast of Canada is privy to some spectacular sunrises, which you’ll often vow to see. Unfortunately, you’ll often miss them because you were having too much fun the night before! But when you finally manage it (on the last morning of your trip..!) it’ll be beautiful.
We roused ourselves from a peaceful slumber in the insanely comfy beds at The Fisher’s Loft Inn in Port Rexton, Newfoundland, to head out on the Skerwink Trail at 5am. With fresh dew on the leaves and skittering bugs around us, we walked along the cliff edge beside the sea stacks and watched the sky change colour with the rising sun.
The best part of an east coast Canada road trip? Everyone will make friends with you.
Perhaps my favourite part of Atlantic Canada was making friends with people. It was absurdly easy, and yet still felt so special.
We struck up conversation with a woman and her family while queuing for our rental car at Halifax airport, then spent the early hours of the morning with a group of twenty-somethings that night at a local bar. An elderly married couple approached us at dinner with recommendations of where to visit in Nova Scotia; a young wife talked with me at length about Canada’s indigenous history while we went fishing; and a random woman tied my plastic bib behind my neck before showing me how to eat the lobster on the table in front of me!
There is no doubt that I’ll come back to Canada. There are two more Atlantic provinces I’ve yet to explore – and a hundred more stories to hear and to tell…
Would you go on an east coast Canada road trip? Are there any typical road trip lessons I’ve missed out? 
Pin this article if you enjoyed it!
Disclaimer: This trip was in collaboration with Tourism Nova Scotia and Newfoundland & Labrador, who hosted Kim and I – but the opinions about Canadian superstitions, giant moose and Adirondack deckchairs are all my own. 
The post 28 Things You’ll Learn on an East Coast Canada Road Trip appeared first on Flora The Explorer.
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klararaskaj-blog · 5 years
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Paranormal PLACES IN NEW YORK STATE
New York is always a popular tourist destination, but it is also home to some of the most haunted places in America. Some of the most notorious haunted locations around can be found not just in New York City, but further afield all across New York State. 12. LETCHWORTH VILLAGE, THIELLS, NY Letchworth Village, Thiells, NY Letchworth Village is tucked away in a rural community where the state gave 2362 acres of land to be used in the care of the mentally and physically disabled. It was beautiful to look at having been modeled on Thomas Jefferson’s estate in Monticello. However, it hid an ugly reputation. Like so many of these institutions, Letchworth Village earned a reputation for mistreating its residents. Reports began to filter out of patients living naked in their own filth without any bedding and barely enough food to survive. The children here were used as guinea pigs for early polio vaccines and barbaric treatments. It is no wonder the place is haunted! Strange noises, poltergeist activity and apparitions are all the norm at Letchworth Village. 11. LANDMARK THEATRE, SYRACUSE, NY Landmark Theatre, Syracuse, NY The Landmark Theatre is a grand former movie house dating back to the 1920s, but behind the beautiful facade there are restless spirits lying in wait as this is one of the most haunted buildings in New York. There are at least 3 ghosts said to haunt the building. The most common one seen is Clarissa, an actress how died after falling from the balcony. You may also see Oscar, a stagehand who likes to flick the lights on and off! 10. THE MORRIS-JUMEL MANSION, MANHATTAN, NY The Morris-Jumel Mansion, Manhattan, NY The Morris-Jumel Mansion is one of the oldest houses in all of Manhattan. It also happens to be one of the most haunted mansions in New York. The Georgian style mansion was built by Roger Morris in 1765 and served as a military headquarters for both sides of the Revolution. In 1810, Stephen Jumel and his wife Eliza purchased the property. Stephen died in suspicious circumstances and she married again in 1832, this time to Aaron Burr, the former Vice President who also killed Alexander Hamilton. Rumours of paranormal activity in the mansion first surfaces in the 1960s when a visiting group of schoolchildren claimed to have seen the ghost of Eliza Jumel, who appeared and told them to quieten down. There have also been reports of a disembodied voice coming from inside a old grandfather clock and a Hessian soldier who emerges from painting on the wall. 9. FORT WILLIAM HENRY MUSEUM, LAKE GEORGE, NY Fort William Henry Museum, Lake George, NY Fort William Henry Museum is actually a replica which was built in the 1950s to represent the original British stronghold just off of Lake George. However, this certainly does not seem to have discouraged the hundreds who died in a bloody massacre here from returning after death to haunt the area. Fort William Henry was lost in 1757 when it was attacked and destroyed by thousands of French soldiers during the French and Indian War. Visitors have captured shadow figures in their photographs and report hearing whispered voices telling them to hurry up while visiting! 8. THE WINERY AT MARJIM MANOR, APPLETON, NY The Winery at Marjim Manor, Appleton, NY The Winery at Marjim Manor is one of the most haunted houses in New York and it has appeared on various paranormal television shows including ‘Most Terrifying Places in America’. Despite this, the owner insists that the spirits haunting the property are friendly in nature! It is believed that some of the spirits may date back to the original family who first built the property in 1834. There are also reports of a spirit dog that brushes against people’s legs as they sit sipping their wine while looking out over Lake Ontario. This is definitely a place for those interested in the paranormal, but who don’t fancy encountering malevolent spirits! 7. THE HOUSE OF DEATH, NEW YORK CITY, NY The House of Death, New York City, NY If you visit number 14 West 10th in New York City, you will happen upon a beautiful townhouse on a quiet street. You would never believe that this unassuming home is one of the most haunted places in New York, with up to twenty-two different spirits dwelling inside what has come to be known as ‘The House of Death’. Mark Twain lived in the property between 1900 and 1901 and documented a number of supernatural experiences that he had. It comes as little surprise that the property is haunted given its gruesome past… Throughout the twentieth century there have been some horrifying events the most famous of which include a murder suicide and a six year old girl (Lisa Steinberg) who was beaten to death by her adoptive father Joel Steinberg in 1987. There have been all manner of paranormal incidents reported in the house and there have even been sightings of Mark Twain himself on a couple of occasions. 6. GURNSEY HOLLOW, FREWSBURG, NY Gurnsey Hollow, Frewsburg, NY Most cemeteries are pretty creepy, but few had terrifying legends on a par with those linked to Gurnsey Hollow. The graveyard is tucked away down a side road which gradually tapers off into a dirt track ending in this burial ground. It is said that a 7 year old mentally handicapped girl was stoned to death here by the locals for undisclosed reasons. She is just one of the unusually high concentration of children that are buried here. Many of the grave markers have been tipped over or vandalised and this has caused unrest resulting in many shadowy figures poised to attack any mortal who enters the secluded cemetery! 5. FOREST PARK CEMETERY, BRUNSWICK, NY Forest Park Cemetery, Brunswick, NY Forest Park Cemetery, also known as Pinewoods Cemetery, is an abandoned graveyard in Brunswick which is only visited by the bravest of souls these days! Those who do venture into the overgrown burial ground report feeling a cold chill running down their spines as they encounter unexplained cold spots all over the area. There has been a great deal of vandalism here and some of the decapitated angels on the headstones have been said to bleed from their severed stone necks! Several coffins are missing from the vandalised mausoleums and many believe that it is this desecration which has disturbed the spirits resulting in paranormal activity. 4. THE AMITYVILLE HOUSE, LONG ISLAND, NY The Amityville House, Long Island, NY Everyone is familiar with The Amityville Horror. There has been a debate raging regarding whether or not the book that inspired a popular horror movie franchise is a work of fiction or a true account of a genuine haunting, but the general consensus is that it was at the very least heavily embellished! However, regardless of this, we must not forget that aside from the alleged paranormal events described by the Lutz Family, there was still a brutal murder in this property. In 1974, Ronald DeFeo Jr, murdered six members of his family as they slept, claiming that ‘voices’ told him that they were plotting to murder him. This has to have left some kind of mark on the property, so genuine hauntings are not out of the question. 3. UTICA STATE HOSPITAL, UTICA, NY Utica State Hospital, Utica, NY When Utica State Hospital opened in 1843 it was the first state-run hospital for the mentally ill. Back then it was called New York State Lunatic Asylum and it was considered to be state of the art for the time. However, like so many asylums of that era the treatment of the patients was anything but supportive or caring. It was routine for staff to perform lobotomies, electroshock therapy and other inhumane treatment methods. The patients lived in filthy conditions and were confined to cramped accommodations with little to no medical care. This was the hospital where the ‘Utica Crib’ was invented. It was a long shallow cage where agitated patients were placed to calm them down. It was also used as a punishment for undesirable behaviour. The hospital has long since closed, but it is by no means empty! This is without doubt one of the most haunted hospitals in New York state, and there are still patients wandering the halls. People have seen faces looking out of the windows and it is common to hear the patients screaming from the buildings. For the most part, the hospital is off limits but in occasion they do allow ghost tours and paranormal investigations to take place on the premises. 2. THE SAGAMORE, LAKE GEORGE, NY STAY HERE The Sagamore, Lake George, NY The Sagamore is a grand hotel which sits on a private island overlooking Lake George. It seems like it would be the ideal spot for anyone who is looking for a little bit of rest and relaxation. However, it is one of the most haunted hotels in New York and it seems like some former guests have made it their eternal resting place! You can rent a room in the hotel, but the chances are fair that you will not be alone in it! There are many ghost stories connected to the Victorian resort including a little boy who loves to play outside. It has been suggested that this is the spirit of a little boy who used to find lost or abandoned golf balls and sell them back to the pro shop customers. However, around 70 years ago he was hit by a car while looking for the golf balls and dies instantly. He can often be seen on the grounds and many guests have heard him giggling. Are you brave enough to spend a night at The Sagamore? 1. ROLLING HILLS ASYLUM, EAST BETHANY, NY Rolling Hills Asylum, East Bethany, NY Rolling Hills Asylum is a 19th century poorhouse which has seen thousands of deaths. In fact, it is estimated that 1700 bodies lie in unmarked graves on the premises. When it first opened in 1826 it was known as Genesee County Poor House where lunatics, paupers and vagrants were put to work on the farm. It later became an infirmary, an orphanage, a tuberculosis hospital and a nursing home. It is now thought to be one of the most haunted buildings in New York with a large amount of the paranormal activity seemingly centered on the psych ward, morgue and the graveyard. One of the most commonly reported apparitions is a seven foot tall shadow man which is believed to be the spirit of an inmate named Roy who lived at Rolling Hills Asylum for most of his life and died there in 1942.
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dcnativegal · 6 years
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From Fire to Evacuation and Back
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
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It’s a sunny crisp fall morning, even though it’s still summer. Yesterday morning, with the temperature still in the 40s, there were blue sky and puffy white clouds visible from my recliner as I look out over the orderly but still very full yard. There are many benefits of having a Level Two Evacuation leveled at a small town, and one of them is that many yards are cleaner than they were. Brush and grasses are cleared from the area around the fence of our little property, in the armpit of the hill upon which stands the town cemetery and the best views of the fire from town during the ‘heat’ of it. It’s not as hot now. The smoke has cleared for the most part. It’s blowing west, and there’s less of it, because the bulk of the fuel, the dead pine, has burned already. Today’s total, 56,895 acres, 75% contained. The fire is pretty much finished growing. Alleluia.
Valerie and I went to the third community meeting about the fire Monday night. Instead of talking about evacuation, like we did in the second meeting, there was talk of a contingency line (a ‘just in case’ line around the perimeter of the fire), ‘mopping up’ (putting out spot fires, making sure all the fire is dead), suppression and repair. I’m not sure what repair means when it comes to a forest fire, but a whole lot of logs will be removed.
One of the officials explained that the fire camp will be here for a long while to come and the town won’t be back to a population of 250 until the first snows, to make sure it’s really OUT. Awesome! I’m fine with that!  Apparently, the assignments last a certain amount of time, and firefighters will rotate out, so the camp will shrink through attrition. Plenty of other fires to attend to.
There were a few questions, from one particularly classy lady in a cowboy hat and a grey braid down her back, about who or what caused the fire. Very diplomatic answers came from the communications officer saying that Fire Investigators are very busy and doing their thing on this fire and lots of other ones, too. Might have been lightening. Probably not, apparently.
This city slicker has learned a great deal about how to cope with a nearby wildfire, that’s for darn sure, and I didn’t have to grieve the burning of my possessions in the process. Gratitude abounds.
1.       Put stuff in a suitcase or a box and label it ‘evacuation.’ Keep the stuff in there as storage for the next fire. And when I look for my passport, I know where it is! Also, high school yearbooks, old family photos I don’t hang on the wall, because #nomorewallspace, and other trinkets.
2.       There is some time between Level 1, 2 and 3. Unlike the hot huge fires in California in populated areas, wildfires here in the Oregon High Desert, they move more slowly. So I don’t have to flee with only the clothes on my back. This is deeply good to know.
3.       Valerie is a good barometer. If she starts packing, the fire is at the door. Her most repeated phrase to me, after, I love you, is, Fret Not. And so I will not. Or try not to. Fretting is in my nature.
4.       Given that I’m a world class fretter, it did help to have my car packed. For five straight days.
5.       Fighting fire is kind of like making a movie. A camp is set up at a location. Everyone has a role, a territory, a hierarchy of orders, a protocol, a checklist. And when it’s all over, everyone packs up and it’s like it was never there. The camp that is, not the fire. The result of one is a lot of charred ground and dead animals. The result of the other is a film.
6.       Tee shirts with the name of the fire and some sort of graphic is a thing with firefighters. They collect them. I’m getting two, by different vendors with different designs. Perhaps these shirts are the trophies fire fighters collect, like runners do at races.
7.       People are generous. They offer to help, offer space, food, time, something to haul belongings in  or a field to house livestock. Very cool.  One of the forest rangers said that Paisley has been a model town in terms of welcoming the firefighters. I’m glad to hear that! I haven’t done anything but pack my car and go to my job. But I’m glad there are many neighborly neighbors here.
Downsides of wildfires, at least in Oregon:
1.       Anxiety. With a few moments of terror and tears. No fun.
2.       We cleared the brush and now the deer have gotten to our tomatoes. No more tomatoes. Next year we’ll do an actual chicken wire fence around them. I was so looking forward to lots of tomatoes.
3.       Smoke is really icky stuff. Visine doesn’t help the eyes from feeling like you haven’t slept in a week. And if anyone has ever smoked cigarettes or has asthma, the smoke really impairs breathing. Not meant for inhaling.
4.       The beautiful canyon of Fremont Winema National Forest will look, aesthetically speaking, like a denuded charcoal pit for a while. The lakes were slurped up, but not drained. Still learning about this, too: the regeneration of forest. I bet there are other blessings about this fire for the forest. I’m not sure. It’s going to look sad for a long time, though. The non-forest service populace won’t be allowed to drive ‘over the mountain’ west to Bly until next spring. But apparently, Campbell Lake and a bunch of other sites look just fine.
5.       People will snipe. Accuse the ‘liberals in Washington’ of leading to fires like this one. Of suspecting that fires are allowed to burn so that someone can make money. The firefighters? Who’s making money? I don’t understand that one but I’m open to hearing. I also heard that local ranchers were ready to put out the fire with ‘dozers and cats’ but the Feds said stand down and thus it burnt and got away from everyone. I heard that one from 2 different folks on opposite sides of the county. Conspiracy theories abound. Our monkey brains have to come up with something to do, I guess. The Watkins Creek Fire started on federal land. It was the Forest Service’s job to stop it. The politics of logging and land use is still way beyond me. But the firefighters saved our town. I’ll just keep reading about the rest of it.
 Meanwhile, life goes on. Yesterday was my Lakeview day, and I got to have lunch with a friend (I do this every Tuesday and its lovely), go shopping at Safeway (always do this, too), grabbed books at the Lakeview Library to bring up to Paisley, saw two clients, and checked in at the main office of our agency.  I didn’t hit the thrift shops, since I don’t need to buy anything inedible ever again period end of sentence. (Maybe next week.)
 I am grateful for all the support and well wishes, prayers, and admonitions to put safety first from friends and family near and far. Valerie says if I don’t post about it in Facebook, it didn’t happen. That’s only a slight exaggeration. Moving out here to the hinterlands, the high desert at 4,000 feet, the middle of a county with no traffic lights, I enjoy staying in touch, however superficially and sporadically, with my old friends, coworkers, parishioners, and kinfolk through Facebook. Thank you for reading. How do you like my new tee shirt? What sugar skulls have to do with wildfires I do not know but it’s really pretty, isn’t it?
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Here are my Facebook posts from the start of the fire, just so I can revisit the process of my enlightenment about fires near my adopted home. The fire started on my birthday, August 15th, but I didn’t know about it until Thursday, the 16th. My first post, of many, obviously.
 August 16, 10am
Well blech. Paisley is just to the east of the Watkins Creek Fire, one of many burning around here.
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August 16, 6pm
Watkins Creek Fire, from my evening commute on Route 31 looking south.
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August 18, noon
This is what the air is like around here. Thank you, Shelly Rutledge Leehmann, for sharing your beautiful picture.
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 August 20, 7am
So, this is my first "Fire in Paisley." I'm taking my cue from the locals, as i am a transplant from the big east coast (aka, "wet") city. At last night's community meeting, everyone seemed very calm. All the officials from all kinds of agencies did their job capably. They explained this is a tricky fire, there is a lot of 'fuel' from a beetle-caused die off of lodgepole pine 10 years ago, and the terrain is mostly Forest Service land and rough. Safety of the people (mostly men?) fighting the fire is paramount, of course. Bulldozers and caterpillars ("Dozers and Cats") are very helpful and faster than people with shovels. We got to hear from a meteorologist, which was pretty cool, since fire creates its own weather AND the way the wind blows will be the difference between Paisley-Flambé versus a whole lot of dead trees only. And maybe a few unfortunate cows and many other non-human animals, most of whom ran, flew or hopped to safety.
 So I’m feeling pretty okay. One woman asks, should we pack? And the gal with the mic says, always a good idea. And another asks, how contained is the fire, and she says, zero. Oh!! Adrenaline rush. Not so okay.
 After the meeting, we drive up to the highest point in the city where the cemetery is: we can see the smoke and there's a red glow to the west and south. Ominous.
 I already have an anxiety disorder. But, anxiety can be useful. I came home and packed up my clothes. I put a few bags of things that won't suffer in the hot car in the trunk. I found my passport and my birth certificate, and my grandfather's dog tags from 1917. My kids' dad has all the baby albums, but i have some important photographs, so I’ve packed them. I will need a cooler for my insulin when the time comes, IF it comes.
I'm more or less ready. And Valerie is very calm. So I’m going to let the current of "evacuation anxiety" just flow along, and it's okay if I obsessively check the twitter page for the South Central Oregon Fire Management Partnership for updates. Now i know that infrared photos from helicopters is how they estimate the acres once a day. I know that a lot of agencies are coordinating. And one of the forest service guys lives in Paisley: he promised he'd put flyers in the post office and other spots in town ASAP if there's real news. Like Level 1 evacuation orders. And Level 2 and 3 news will be delivered by the Sheriff's office. Door to door.
Just another day in Paradise.
As everyone says, we are all very grateful to the professionals as well as our local volunteers. The town has tripled in size and the traffic (traffic?!!??) is noticeable through town. There's a tent city on Murphy's ranch: looks like Cirque de Soleil has come to town.
Now that would be fun.
Alas, it's time to go about the business that needs to be done, which in my case is get organized about my application to become a CADC 1. Certified Alcohol & Drug Counselor. Better get crackin'. Thanks for reading.
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August 21, 1145am
I emailed about Level 1 Evacuation and got this response. I don’t know why this hasn't been mentioned?
Hi, Jane,
Yes, there is a Level 1 Evacuation for residents west of Highway 31 between mileposts 79 and 105.
Residents in the area should be aware of current conditions. If evacuations become necessary, it will be coordinated through the Lake County Sheriff's Office. It's recommended to always "Be Ready" when living near a fire-prone area.
Thank you,
Jodie Barram Watson Creek Fire Information Center Paisley, Oregon
 August 22, 2018, 6am
Evacuation is on my mind this morning. I found a guide seems particularly thorough. Put buckets of water around the house. close windows. put ladder alongside the house for firefighters to use. I worry if the propane tanks are empty on the front of the camper that we use for storage. (Val says they are.)
I can smell smoke in the house this morning. My eyes are stinging. I'm packing up my car with more of my stuff and driving to Christmas Valley to my job. My guess (wtf do i know) is that if there's an evacuation, it will happen tomorrow, so I’m anticipating driving to and from Christmas Valley today to work, packing up MORE stuff, and heading back up there tomorrow, maybe staying up there. Valerie Little would go to Lakeview to her daughter's. In order to see my clients, i would rent a room in Christmas Valley or impose on one of my coworkers. Then stay in Brothers (i hope y'all don't mind.) But seriously, i am an anxious snowflake. I'll tell you true, folks, this is pretty awful. I don't fear for my life, but i do fear for this beautiful small town that has a very active world in it. We may be tiny but we are mighty.
Everyone tells me, stay safe. I want everyone to be safe from fire, of course. What does safe mean? A dense fog has descended and it isn't fog. It's smoke.
I need more coffee.
  August 23, 2018  3:15pm
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The community meeting tonight in Paisley about the Watson Creek Fire told us that there's a moderate chance of evacuation due in part to windy weather predicted that will push embers toward our town. Folks with no pets and nowhere else to go will be welcomed at the high school in Lakeview, the Red Cross coordinating. Apparently, there are 2500 head of cattle normally grazing in the fire area, and some brave cattlemen (and women?) are finding them and bringing them out.
We're told that if we get out of town ourselves after a Level 3 evacuation announcement is made, we're to tell the sheriff's office where we went and what our cell phone number is so they can tell us when we can come back. Our town has less than 300 souls in it so if we call the main sheriff department in Lakeview, hopefully they won't be overwhelmed with calls.
We have 3 different family members we can impose on, in Lakeview, Chiloquin and Brothers, if it comes to that.
My car is packed. I have a cooler with ice and my insulin. Val's truck has a cover and it's filling up. I have lots of art. Most will stay. Family photos will come with.
I don’t know if I’m overreacting or spot on. Packing to evacuate is sort of like packing to move but we are of course taking no furniture. And very few books. Sort of feels like the Swedish notion of “death cleaning”, the kind of decluttering one does so that the descendents don’t have to deal with your stuff after you shuffle off.  All my stained glass treasures, and most of my yarn, stays. Valerie says, worst case scenario, i get to buy new yarn.
Everybody's a comedian.
I'm not panicking this evening. I am tired in a buzzy-anxious sort of way.
I saw a helicopter flying over me as i drove home in my packed car tonight. it had a red thing dangling underneath it. Valerie says that's a bucket of water. It looks so small. Apparently, fighting a wildfire like this one, in rugged national park land with lots of 'fuel', means using dirt and 'back burns' pushed toward the periphery of a fire. The fire is bordered by the Sycan, the Sprague, and the Chewaucan rivers. Hopefully, the talent of our firefighters will hold the line, and the town will be spared.
 I do not feel personally endangered. I worry about the structures in this cute town I've adopted (and which tolerates me.) I'm okay. Just worried. And the sharp smell of smoke is everywhere in town. I don't have a proper mask, so I’ll just cough and squirt my newly purchased drops into my eyes.
 Thank you for the expressions of concern, prayers, and admonitions to stay safe. We are indeed. The cat is oblivious, and we are pretty much ready. Maybe we won't need to evacuate. Which would be great: I really love my late father's old cherry desk and it weighs a TON.
A huge thanks to the local firefighters, like Dustin Withers, who volunteer and know this city deeply. (Yeah, Paisley is one of two 'cities' in Lake County, the other one being Lakeview.) And to all the other professionals, from 14 states we were told, deep and profound thanks to you as well. I hope it's comfortable in that tent city just outside town. I hope the caterer is decent.
This shot is of the poplars that mark the north edge of town. you can barely see them for the smoke.
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 August 23, 2018, 9pm  
All's quiet on the eastern front of the fire which is also the western front of this tiny town. Val and i drove up to the cemetery to see what we could see after the sun set. There's a field full of caterpillars and bulldozers, sitting silently, ready for battle. We cannot see the red glow that was so visible on Sunday evening. We decided it is safe to go to sleep in our home.
The "Emergency Notice: Level 2 -- Be Set" language is pretty urgent: "An evacuation notice has been issued for this area." The entire flyer is in all caps of different sizes. Underlined it says YOU MUST PREPARE TO LEAVE AT A MOMENTS NOTICE [sic] and THIS MAY BE THE ONLY NOTICE THAT YOU RECEIVE. So I ask Valerie, this sounds like we should get out of Dodge NOW: how will we know in the middle of the night if we should boogie? She says, because all hell will break lose in town and people will be running around like headless chickens. Well we ARE located very close to the local volunteer fire department, and the only road going up to the cemetery is right in front of our house. PLUS, we did not see a glow over the ridge to our west.
This rural wildfire thing is tricky on my emotions. A few times since this fire started (on my birthday, for pity's sake), I've been near tears and quietly panicking. And then I hear more news from someone, or Valerie has some nonchalant practical piece of fire wisdom to impart, and I immediately feel better. The fire is 6 direct miles from town, 13 miles by road. It's being held in by 3 rivers, near as I can figure from the daily infrared fire maps: the Sycan, the Sprague, and the Chewaucan. The most recent notice from the South Central Oregon Fire Management Partnership says the fire has NOT jumped the Chewaucan, which is one of the major barriers keeping it from town. I'm afraid my emotional reverberations are amplified by the frequency with which we moved when I was a kid, and the unpleasantness that always accompanied those moves. This insight helps a little to know why I am seized by panic periodically.
We are totally packed. I feel like i evacuate the town every time i drive to work, which is an hour north, and then I come home, and stuff more stuff into my Honda Fit. Which is not that big a car. Valerie is traveling light; she isn't packing much partly because she doesn't think the house will burn and partly because she doesn't care that much about her stuff, I guess. Every morning since Tuesday, I've packed my c-pap machine, and every night I bring it back into the house and set it up. I'd rather be prepared.
I asked Valerie, who used to look for fires on top of Indian Rock Lookout near John Day, Oregon, what the difference is between the Carr fire that's still burning in Cali and decimated whole neighborhoods, and our Watkins Creek conflagration. She says our dead trees do not have sap in them anymore so they don't burn as hot. The temperatures in that part of California are 20 degrees hotter there than here in summer. And the winds blow the fire very fast. Here in rural high desert "Great Basin" Oregon, the fastest the fire would move is one mile per hour. And from what the Fire Management Partnership is saying, the lines they are building are holding, mostly. The fire grows every day, but percentage wise, much less. It's at 40,000 acres. It will be with us for a few more weeks. But the fuel of dead trees will eventually be used up. And maybe these 'lines' of which they speak, will hold.
I hear various comments from people that i don't understand, and i guess the longer i live out here the more i'll get it. A woman served me fish and chips for lunch in Lakeview on Tuesday (don't judge. I had nothing but vegetables tonight) and when she learned i was from Paisley she says, you know it's the liberals in Washington who caused this fire... So i ask Valerie (my memoir from life in Paisley should be titled "So i asked Valerie) is that true? And she says, well, no one can agree on what the best policy is on dead timber, and the Forest Service has done stupid stuff through both Republican and Democrat administrations... Okay. I heard that the firefighters are happy because they're making money, getting overtime and night work differentials. Well i hope so. I don't like heat, thank you. I hear that initially our local volunteers had things more or less under control and then the officialdom showed up and said stand down, and the fire whooshed up. From two different sources in different parts of the county. Is that true? Or is it a sturdy rumor that's traveled? I heard the fire was called by a ranch hand who took a chainsaw into the woods and a spark caused the fire. No one will cop to that. The cause of the fire is labeled "human" (versus lightening). I wonder if there is one human responsible and how they're feeling. People make mistakes. I do multiple times a day. But... were they wantonly foolish? I dunno. It's another committee I’m not on.
I've received wonderful generous offers of homes to evacuate to, and questions about whether we need anything. There is so much kindness that flows at times like these. People are offering pastures for cattle and goats, places to park their RVs (which folks use for extra bedrooms around here.) I am privileged and grateful.
I'm going to bed. I know all of us in Paisley will be checking our phones and computers first thing, we'll look around anxiously, our eyes will sting from the smoke (Visine alas does not help), and we'll cough and wheeze. If everything is much worse, i won't go to work and we will evacuate, probably to Chiloquin where there's room for us and the cat. If everything seems stable, I’ll still pack up my c-pap and head north to Christmas Valley, I’ll catch up with 'paperwork' which no longer involves any paper, and i'll text Valerie frequently. I'll also continue to obsessively check the various sites that post information, and the Facebook group called For Sale in Paisley which is our electronic bulletin board.
I honestly don't think the house will burn up. I do not fear for my own safety. i think that these 800 or so fire fighters will work hard to keep the fire to our west, and we'll suffer through the dense smoke for weeks. My beautiful framed Pakistani prayer rug will survive, as well as my art photography. The house that Valerie and Jer built from the inside out will stand comfortably for another year.
Then again, if i have to evacuate in my jammies, I will grab my keys, phone, computer and c-pap, and my car and her truck will exit stage left.
'Night all.
  August 25, 2018, 11 a.m.
It's Saturday morning here in Paisley Oregon, Day # 11 of the Watkins Creek Fire. We're still on a Level 2 Evacuation and a few families have left. It was much less smoky up north yesterday, which was delightful, but it's really smoky here in town still. My car is packed, but we're busy taking all kinds of dead limbs and trash to the dump to reduce the hazard to the house and clean up a bit.
I have so many questions, like, if the 'fire lines are holding', why does the fire grow thousands of acres every day? Why did i see a bunch of smoke columns, like 5, along the east side of Winter Rim as i drove home to Paisley yesterday? Maybe there were firefighters by them, putting them out, but they were disconcerting.
I am grateful for many things, not the least of which is i am much less anxious for some reason. My car is still packed, but it's gotten through my thick head that the fire moves slowly and I’ll have time to beat feet out of here if i need to. I'm so glad to feel calmer.
Off to the dump. More anon.
  Saturday, August 25, 2018, 8pm
This article says it is not the fault of ‘liberals in DC’ that there are destructive forest fires…
http://mailtribune.com/opinion/guest-opinions/the-inconvenient-truth-about-forest-fires
 Sunday, August 26, 2018 5pm
The fire has grown a cerebellum!
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Excuse me while I let my imagination run wild. Better call the Paisley Volunteer Fire Department, the South Central Oregon Fire Management Partnership, the Keno Oregon fire department (I’ve seen their trucks here), the Forest Service, Oregon Department of Forestry, the Bureau of Land Management... to put out my imagination. Oh wait! They're pretty tied up at the moment!!
It's sunny and breezy here in Paisley, town of 250 souls normally, and now we are at 1300 souls, more or less. We also welcome the Burners (the Burning Man folks) who are passing through apparently, as they do every year. The Summer Lake Hot Springs is full of them. It's hunting season for antelope by bow hunters. Might see a few of those hunters parked outside the Mercantile while they stock up on beer. It's a regular Grand Central Station. If you hear an accent that's not quite British, and not quite Australian, those are fire fighters from New Zealand.
I found a web site that lists all the active fires in the USA each day. I know, such cheerful google-searching I'm doing here. I've learned that, in Oregon, the Klondike Fire is twice the size of our Watson Creek Fire in terms of acres, and each fire is 40% contained. Nevada has a big one near Elko, 129,000 acres. Idaho has a big one, too;  65,000 but it's mostly contained. Contained is not controlled but it is better than not contained. Colorado's marijuana caught fire and caused 108,000 acres of damage, and it's 91% contained. Kidding about the cause.
Poor California. The Mendocino Complex Fire is about 78 per cent controlled and torched 430,000 acres more or less. The Carr Fire is at about 230,000 and finally is 95% contained. I'm not hearing much about Alaska, but it is on fire, and this site says none of the fires are above 4% contained. Big fires: the Zitziana Fire at 59,000, Dulby Hot Springs at 44,000 and several more.
The Watkins Creek Fire is the fourth largest in the USA right now. Our friend (and massage therapist) Toni Bailie said that in her daily update, so of course i had to look it up. Yup. We're #4. Not that, as i used to say to my children, it's a competition, for pity's sake.
(Here's the site with the state by state lists, updated on weekdays:  https://www.nifc.gov/fireInfo/nfn.htm)
 It was clear and lovely last night. Smoky and grey this morning. Now it's sunny, a few puffy white clouds in the blue sky, and windy. We are at the mercy of the wind: how strong and what direction. Although the reports from the SCOFMP folk sound increasingly confident, the darn fire keeps growing thousands of acres each day.
 (The latest news from 448pm: “The #WatsonCreekFire has been exposed to gusty winds today coming from the southwest to the northwest, and the containment lines have held well as of 4:00 p.m. this afternoon. Some burnout is being conducted in the northwest corner of the fire, where winds are favorable. The Lake County Sheriff's Office, in collaboration with Northwest Incident Management Team 6, has agreed to retain all evacuation levels at their current status and will re-evaluate tomorrow at 4 p.m. after the wind has diminished.)”
So we go about our business on this glorious Sunday, with sunshine and a breeze, temperature in the 60s, as if everything is fine. Except for traffic. And the smoke that descends from the ridges each night.
It's so normal around here that Valerie decided to weed-whack. As if we'll HAVE a lawn in the near future? She shrugged. She told her niece over the phone that she's in denial and I’ve been evacuated for a week. A slight exaggeration, but only slight. Paisley is still under a Level 2.
You know, I have to say, the sound of helicopters is just ominous. I know they're here to measure the fire, and carry buckets of water to some spot that needs water; even though the buckets look pathetically small way up there, apparently bucket-dumping is one of the effective tools of fire 'management.' The helipad is out by the rodeo corral, which is near our airport strip, just north of town. There's a sign on route 31 by the goat pen on the edge of town that points to this spot. It says in a handwritten sign: FUEL. Helicopter fuel, i guess. I'm certainly glad they're here. But i don't like the sound of them.
It will be great when we don't need them.
I went to church today for the first time in months, to hear the new preacher. He's married to a lovely gal who's joined our writer's group. I appreciated the former preacher's sincerity and humility, but i just couldn't glean much from his message. This guy has a sense of humor, he uses power point to help us read the scripture he's referencing while he talks, and he had stories to tell. Alleluia, a story. With a beginning, middle and end. I enjoyed his sermon very much; needed to hear it.
At the beginning of the service, our neighbor asked if there'd been any birthdays, and i raised my hand. "I turned 59 on the first day of the fire. I didn't mean to blow out the candles quite so hard!" Folks laughed. One asked, are you being investigated? I said yup. I'm the human referred to as 'human caused'! More laughter. And they sang me the white person's Happy Birthday song.
(The Black person's birthday song is the chorus of Stevie Wonder's song, Happy Birthday, which you can watch here as he celebrates Nelson Mandela's birthday: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=inS9gAgSENE.)
I had a bit of a revelation while sitting in the pew. I hold different tenets of faith than many if not most of the folks who attend. I do not believe that the only way to salvation is to declare that Jesus is my savior. I believe that, for me, tuning into Jesus is my favorite way to catch the radio station called "God", but there are many other radio stations. Alice Walker said in The Color Purple that we don’t go to church to find God but to share God. Here in church, we can share faith, and good and bad news, and disagree about whether the ONLY way to salvation is through Jesus. Just like we can also disagree about whether I'm going to hell because I'm gay. I figure, there are more adulterers in this county than gay people, and they go to church without a qualm. Thus, so can I.
I'm a bit thick. But these thoughts were helpful, relieving even, and instead of feeling a little bit defensive in the pew, I could feel compassion. None of us here gathered know shit, really. We hope and trust and do the best we can.
And we know shit happens. Fire happens. And once again, I turn to the wisdom of Mr. Rogers: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” Our town is full of helpers, together, and therefore we are not alone. We will still be here, or at least nearby when this fire is 100% contained.
 August 26 at 12:24 PM · 
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 South Central Oregon Fire Management Partnership - SCOFMP
August 26 at 12:20 PM · 
The #WatsonCreekFire was subdued overnight. However, light winds overnight are expected to increase throughout the day and test fire lines on the eastern perimeter. Get the full report: https://goo.gl/Zye7DP
 Monday, August 27, 2018
Weeee hooo! We the People of Paisley are now at a Level One Evacuation instead of 2, which means i'm unpacking my cooler full of insulin and putting it all back in the fridge. So relieved. 
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suetravelblog · 7 years
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View from Nid d’Aigle La Digue
My day trip to La Digue Island was marred by torrential rain that didn’t let up…  Several photos in this post are media shots, as it was difficult to bicycle and take photos, and poor visibility made it even more challenging.
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Picasso Triggerfish
The rain began during the one-hour ferry ride from Mahé to Praslin and continued when we switched to a small connecting ferry for a fifteen-minute ride between Praslin and La Digue. When the ferry arrived in La Digue around 9am, people were huddled under palapas clutching their umbrellas. Sections of the street were flooded.
Weather, Population, History
Weather in the Seychelles is temperate year-round, but its proximity to the equator results in frequent, unpredictable storms. The area has microclimates, so it can be raining on one island and sunny on another. Some storms are violent but brief and clear in a few minutes. Unlucky for me,  that wasn’t the case the day I visited La Digue. December and January are off-season and known for heavy downpours. The least rain occurs in July. I was fortunate, as most of the month spent on the islands was clear and beautiful.
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Anse Marron
La Digue is the third largest inhabited island of the Seychelles and the fourth in size. The population of around 3,000, live mostly in two small west coast villages – La Passe, where the ferry docks, and La Réunion. La Digue is linked to the other islands by ferry. There is no airport.
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Butterfly Fish
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Year-round temperatures fluctuate between 75 and 90 degrees, during all seasons, day and night.
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Three Masted Schooner La Digue
Sailboat La Digue
Ships La Digue Harbor
Praslin Harbor
La Digue was named after a ship in the fleet of French explorer Marc-Joseph Marion du Fresne, who visited the Seychelles in 1768. French colonists settled on the island in 1789, bringing their African slaves with them.
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Endangered Black Paradise Flycatcher
Inhabitants of La Digue are called Diguois. “The first French who settled the island were exiled from Bourbon for taking part in a political rebellion. They were to be sent to the East Indies, but bribed the captain to sail them to Seychelles where many had relatives.” Later, liberated slaves and Asian immigrants joined the original French inhabitants and settled on the island. La Digue’s population is mostly Catholic.
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Emperor Angelfish
Wildlife, Nature Reserves, Beaches
La Digue’s main industry is tourism, and it’s known for stunning beaches, especially Anse Source d’Argent and Grand Anse. The bicycle tour was not guided, and I encircled most of the island in the rain and visited Veuve Nature Reserve, home to the rare black paradise flycatcher. I was disappointed in the Reserve and heard, but never saw, birds and exotic-sounding animals. Many of the Reserve’s muddy, flooded trails were almost impassable.
Red Fody
In addition to the endangered flycatcher, La Digue is home to several rare endemic species. There’s a significant population of giant tortoises from Aldabra Island. Coconut crabs and a variety of geckos and tropical birds – fodys, sunbirds, terns, fruitbats, and sheath-tailed bats – inhabit the island.
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Cocos Island National Park
Green sea turtles live on the edges of La Digue’s coral reefs, and butterfly fish, eagle rays, and murray eels flourish there. I didn’t snorkel this trip but saw colorful fish, eels, and a small blacktip reef shark snorkeling a few days earlier near Cerf Island.
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Anse Marron
“Animals that have traditionally lived on La Digue are threatened by those brought there by the first inhabitants. The rat population was probably the first animal introduced to the Seychelles. It quickly made many birds extinct by their eating eggs and disturbing nests. Dogs and cats are not as much of a menace.”
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Grand Anse
La Digue’s beaches are some of the most photographed in the world. They glow with soft white sand, translucent turquoise waters, and spectacular granite boulders. If you’re adventurous, you can discover small, hidden beaches on isolated parts of the island. Some of the larger, well-known beaches include:
West Coast Beaches – best for swimming
Anse Source d’Argent – accessed via World Heritage Site L’Union Estate
Anse La Réunion
Anse Sévère
Anse Patates
East Coast Beaches
Anse Gaulettes
Grand Anse
Petit Anse
Anse Banane
Isolated Beaches
Anse Marron
Anse Fourmis
Anse Cocos
Anse Bonnet Carré
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Anse Sévère West Coast
The southeast coast has a series of “adjoining bays with picturesque beaches separated by granite boulders and backed by lush tropical forests”. The beaches along the south coast have big waves and powerful undertow. They’re dangerous for swimmers. The hike through the jungle to isolated Anse Cocos is said to be a challenging “rock-hopping” experience. During my short trip, the hiking trails were too wet and muddy to hike.
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Anse Bonnet Carré
Transportation
The primary means of transportation on La Digue is bicycle. At one time, cars were not allowed. Today, there are a few vehicles, most of them belong to hotels and resorts.
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Map La Digue
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“Driving a car on La Digue can be a hard task. Roads were originally designed for bicycles. Two cars going against each other must slide off the road with two wheels in the sand. Another method of transport on La Digue is ox-cart.”
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Breadfruit
Cuisine
Diverse ethnic groups inhabit La Digue, and the food is a mix of world cuisines. Ginger is a primary ingredient for many dishes. With abundant fish on the island, the locals prepare fish hundreds of ways, including grilled, steamed, sautéed, curried, and raw with lemon and spices. Other local food includes Jamalac, breadfruit, rum, octopus, lobster, and the “biggest specialty – bat curry ” made with Seychelles Fruit Bat meat!
Fruit Bat
Seychelles Fruit Bat
The island has interesting restaurants. While waiting for the rain to calm, I had espresso at The Fish Trap in the centre of La Passe. Later in the day, I returned for lunch. Their specialty is fresh, simply cooked seafood.
Snorkeling and Hiking
The best snorkeling is in “the crystal-clear waters of the Ile Marine National Park north of La Digue”. The Park is a group of three small coral-fringed islets off the northern tip of Félicité Island. It’s said to be the most spectacular snorkeling in the islands. Snorkelers swim with Hawksbill turtles, Blue Surgeonfish, Parrotfish, Moorish Idols, Emperor Angelfish, Batfish, and stunning Picasso Triggerfish.
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Moorish Idol
The uphill hike to La Digue’s highest peak – Nid d’Aigle (Eagles Nest) – is challenging, especially in the heat. When you reach the top, panoramic views of the nearby islands make it worth the effort. I didn’t make the hike. If I return to the Seychelles, I will spend more time hiking, snorkeling, and exploring La Digue – hopefully in better weather. For hikers, a guide is recommended – tourists have been lost for days on hidden trails in the dense jungle.
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Blue Surgeonfish
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“Since the Seychelles are detached from the rest of Africa, many animal species are endemic to La Digue”.
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La Digue Cemetery
Flooded Streets La Digue
Fogged In Mahe
Fishtrap Beach
Back in Durban
I arrived back in Durban and am happy to be in a more “connected” environment again. The Seychelles are amazing, but I found them a bit too isolated and am still reflecting on the month in Seychelles, a unique experience.
The weather here in Durban is divine – clear and low humidity. I’ll stay in South Africa for the month of January, and then, it’s on to Mozambique. Hope to do some snorkeling in Durban and visit nearby game reserves!
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Seychelles Coconut Crab
HAPPY 2018!
La Digue Island Seychelles My day trip to La Digue Island was marred by torrential rain that didn’t let up…  Several photos in this post are media shots, as it was difficult to bicycle and take photos, and poor visibility made it even more challenging.
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daemonvols · 7 years
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Chapter Three
Ghosts and Grave Robbers
 The graveside service lasted the usual hour, but Truman and his siblings lingered for at least another forty minutes, so I guessed that the old girl did not get to rest under the sod until closer to three. I also had to be back in the office by two preparing the final documents, answering the telephone and dealing with vendors or nursing home/hospice administrators who thought they should be entitled to group rates for the indigent dead we buried in our Potter’s Field. I could not get back to wiping down and replacing headstones under after dark. And I would not be in time to stop Old Sharpe.  
Rain hadn’t fallen in fact for a few days, so the grass clippings didn’t stick to most of the flat surfaces. It was the scraps and bits of moss that clung to the ornate designs and inscriptions of the wealthy dead that eat up time and nick my fingers. The middle class’s stones are simpler. Names, birth dates and death dates for the most part. Here and there you get a design or a quote, but nothing excessive. Potter’s Field “residents” get brass plaques flush with the grass with no one to really care about them.
Now nineteenth century folks who had money could and did drive this twenty-first century caretaker crazy with detailed carvings of sheep and angels and weeping women in long gowns full of moss- and mold-growing folds, not to mention the extra words to describe the loving mother, faithful father, beloved child and so forth. I realize it’s all to comfort the surviving family, but, after living all of my thirty years in a cemetery and reading the records and hearing the ghosts’ gossip, I have to wonder how much of those endearments are wishful thinking.
Take Old Man Sharpe, and I wish somebody would.
    The official records of the time list him as Benjamin Antony Sharpe, born 1831 and died 1881. The newspaper obituary described him as a “leading citizen who loved God and served his fellow man.” He left neither widow nor children, except for the town’s orphans housed in Heaven’s Angels Children’s Home and the women of the three Magdalene houses he oversaw with other leading citizens. Benjamin Sharpe was upright man, as the white marble stone stated in Gothic script over his grave in the southwest corner of Section A’s front skirt.
    But there’s more to the man. My grandparents spoke of him as “Der Parekh,” a bad man, but that is all I knew until after they died. I pulled the records from the library’s stacks, made hard copies from their microfiche and, on my own time at home, Googled his name. A notice in the newspaper, dated the day after his death, announced an inquiry into his death, hinting that a man of 50 in “splendid health” might have died under suspicious circumstances. His maids Bridget O’Doole and Mary Kate Bailey were being held for questioning. “Obviously Irish,” the article went on to note. The reporter omitted, or assumed the readers would add with a shudder, the words “and likely Catholic.”
“The good people of Sayresville demand an answer,” the article concluded.
    Thanks to the Freedom of Information Act and a few late hours on the Internet, I found the record of the inquest and the maids’ testimony.
As it turned out, it was a good public relations move to publish the obituary before the inquest. The maids, the cook and Sharpe’s valet told stories of Sharpe’s quick temper and his regular nighttime habit of draining two bottles of brandy, and then walloping the tar out of both maids with a specially knotted belt. According to Bridget, on the night of his death, he’d cornered both girls in their narrow bedroom. He’d bent them over a bed with their shifts raised to their waists and had the belt ready to flay them when he “wheezed a bit like he was took by surprise” and fell down dead.
The valet, a “small Canadian” named Richard according to the inquest records, offered to tell more of Sharpe drinking and then being unable to find the privy. The valet further hinted that the upstanding citizen had more than once peed on stray dogs and late-night walkers.
    The officials cut the inquest short at that point. The determination they made official was death by natural causes.
    But “natural causes” in the corporeal sense does not explain a ghost still wandering the cemetery and harassing other ghosts nearly 130 years after his death. And that is what Old Sharpe does when Varney knocks loose Sharpe’s head stone as the mower did after any funeral. As Varney did the day of Eulalie Plutarch’s funeral.
    I know this because the two ghosts I call my gossips caught me heading out to finish the wipe-downs that night.
    “He’s out again!” yipped the first one, who was Missy Drucker. She had been a housewife who died at the age of 37 in 1951 of a burst appendix. Her family buried her with a headstone complete with Psalm 23 and a rare color photograph of Missy. She’d been a pretty brunette with vacant blue eyes dressed in pastels. Six years ago, the plastic or whatever cover that held the photograph onto the stone fell off, as did her photograph. The required search for family members turned up no Druckers in upstate New York that acknowledge a Missy Drucker, or a Michelle Drucker nee Baker, let alone give permission and funds to replace the photo or the cover. Regs would not allow me to do so, either. It’s a vain hope that someone someday might come to claim that fading picture, but I keep it with my ledger. I like to be prepared.
    “He yelled at me to raise my dress!” the other told me. This was Mischa Bridey, born in 1892 and died in the influenza pandemic of 1919. She must have been a spinster school teacher. It may be that her white shirtwaist cinched too tightly at her waist over a heavy dark skirt that swept along the gravel. Or her blackish hair stayed now for eternity in a tight bun that gave her headache. Or maybe, back in her living days, she really needed to get laid. She never has anything good to say about men and she is, in general, a bespectacled, pinch-faced grump.    Then again, until seven years ago in the spring, someone had come every June to lay six yellow roses on her grave. I found the last bouquet dried out from a rainless July and “borrowed” one of the petals for my ledger. You never know about some people. Or ghosts, for that matter.
    You have more questions: yes, ghosts exist. I see them most nights, occasionally during the day, and have done so since I was a baby. I’ve felt the cold that surrounds the ones whose bodies died by violence and the softer coolness of those who passed more peacefully. Ghosts, spirits, “hain’ts,” etc. - they’ve gone by all sorts of politically correct and incorrect labels, but the CPF has a fair share of the haunters for Onondaga County.
Yes, I talk with them.
    And no, I don’t really know what a ghost is in the physical sense. I also don’t know if ghosts realize they are dead or not. It seems rude to ask. Furthermore, I doubt they’d behave any differently than if they did realize it. I would be willing to bet Old Man Sharpe wouldn’t.
    “I know,” I said to Missy and Mischa. “I’m on it.”
    “Well, hurry up before he gets over the hill!” Missy snapped.
    “Well, I could if two nosy hain’ts would clear the road!” I snapped back.
    These two are the first ghosts I’d met who had an overwhelming desire to always be relevant; it is likely they found themselves behind the times while they lived and spent that life and this afterlife trying to catch up. To do this, this pair had observed and learned reactive “moves” to do in unison. This night they gave me the Cat Move: their opaque and vaguely pink hands raised to ear level, then fingers curl for claws and a nasal “Re-e-e-eowwwww!!” from their ghostly gobs.
    I walked away before they celebrated their unified dissing and high-fived each other right down to their non-corporeal elbows.
    Sharpe’s grave was on the southeast end of Section A. The Board approved more tall poles with more blue-white lights back there rather that install the motion detectors the police recommended to dissuade drug deals and lovers with a fetish for having sex on graves. As security for the living-wise, it was a help. To find a ghost whose color was fading to white and gray, not so much.
By the oak tree, where I’d stood only a few hours ago, floated the white shape of a dead martinet. He had to have been a lump of a man. His spirit wasn’t much taller than my five-foot-four height and he spread out from belly to butt. He had goggling pale eyes and a beak of a nose over flabby lips. His ears under the white fronds of hair reminded me of a harp that sagged at the bottom. He was clothed – they still buried them in something like their best back then – but Sharpe had faded so much, it was hard to detail his garments beyond shirt open at the neck under a waistcoat and over trousers. Tradition held that he be buried barefoot, so I was glad the end of his trousered legs were a blur. No doubt he’d had knobby feet with talon-length toenails. And he had the knotted belt they’d buried with him raised in one lumpy hand over his opaque head. I braced myself for the howl. Sharpe’s voice, whether in death or reminiscent of his living squawk, ranked right up there with fingernails on a chalkboard.  
And Benjamin Sharpe was a howler. “Bridget, you strumpet! I know you broke that china cup! I’ll blister your hindquarters for that! Where are you, girl?”
It is wise to approach ghosts, slowly, particularly agitated ghosts. Hands down at the side, head slightly down but off to one side so there can be modest eye contact. It is a literal pain in the neck after a while.
“Care for the residents,” I muttered. “Mr. Sharpe!” I said somewhat louder. “Mr. Sharpe, it’s Grace. Isaac’s granddaughter.”
Sharpe halted and undulated for a moment. The belt came down to his side. “Grace. Yes. Your grandfather is a good man. He took the stones out of my grave before they lowered me into it. Wanted me to be comfortable, he said. So I could rest.”
“That’s right. You look tired, Mr. Sharpe.”
“I am tired. They all want so much from me! Those brats! Those whores! How much more do I have to give? I’m only one man!”
It is also advisable that, if a ghost on the loose wishes to howl against what he perceives as injustice, he be allowed to do so before you herd him back to his grave. It may take a while, but interrupting can leave you standing there with him until dawn. Ghosts will follow you if you walk away. There’s also no telling if the ghost has not finished his or her diatribe at sunrise, that s/he won’t follow you to continue throughout the day. A ghost’s voice registers over the telephone as either white noise or a television on too loud to a bad soap opera – not something to have going on over your shoulder when you’re trying to sound professional and organized on the phone.
I waited for a gap in his complaint and tried again. “You need to rest. Why don’t you come with me and let’s get you back to your rest.”
“It’s that Bridget!” he snarled. “She broke the cup. I know it! She’ll pay with her hide!”
“So she will, but you rest first. You need your strength to – “ I swallowed my disgust – “do the job properly.”
“She’ll bleed for it!”
“If you rest first, of course she will. Now come on.”
You cannot reach out and offer to touch a ghost, so there was no leading him by the arm. I had tried once as a toddler to take the hand of the ghost of the first body buried at the CPF. All you get is a handful of icy cold and an annoyed ghost.
And there’s no pointing. Ghosts like Sharpe like to point, but to be pointed to or at would only start him off again through the cemetery in twice the rage. I stepped onto the gravel path with a slight bow towards his plot.
As I suspected, Varney had taken the corner too quickly again and knocked the stone to an acute angle off its seat and there was a nice three-inch gap to the right side. I stood a respectful half meter from the gap and offered it to Sharpe with a modest, open-handed gesture. “See? It’s all ready for you,” I said. “You tuck yourself in there and rest. Bridget is not going anywhere.”
Which was true. County records showed she died in 1948. St. Agnes’ Cemetery holds her body. Now, if she has a loose headstone and wanders, too, I’ve not heard of it. And it’s not my problem. Her late addle-pated employer, however, routinely is my problem.
Sharpe floated into a horizontal position on the sod that had been well-packed by living feet for one and a quarter centuries. He seeped back like foul water back into the earth with a mournful “Bridget!”
I straightened the headstone. Then I packed it down with moss and some extra dirt and gravel from the path. If the rains held off, Old Sharpe would stay put for another two weeks.
Back to the questions and possibly the Big Question: why do ghosts, souls, spirits, whatever you want to call them, hang around? There are probably two or three answers for every one person you might ask. The sort of “it’s this way, but maybe that way, too” thinking that leaves the listener more confused and not a little bit frightened.
I have only heard one explanation that makes sense – and, as with anything else, it’s open to debate. My Grandpa Dov said that Midrash assigns five levels to each living soul. Three, starting with the lowest, reptilian senses, are attached to the physical earth. Only two of them are on the spiritual level and yearn to reunite with the Creator. Therefore, the odds that a soul will pass on are sixty-forty against.
People in the past knew this and invented headstones. Headstones are meant to hold the sixty-percenters down until the dead realize that’s as far as they are going to go. Their spirits pass on then, with little or no notice given to the living.
Some souls, however, cannot take the granite or marble slab hint and insist on hanging around. I sometimes think they were the last ones to leave a party while they were living. Either way, the stone keeps them where their families buried them. But, like so many of the best laid plans, things do go awry. The CPF has drainage ditches, soil erosion and jokers like Varney and Trumbull. Ergo, we have ghosts walking the grounds most evenings. And I’m the one to walk them back and tuck them in again.
Old Sharpe was tucked away for this night. I wanted to go to bed and to dive back into my book (I’d fallen asleep just as the clothes were coming off and the strong masculine arms were outstretched), but something felt wrong.
Derek and his band of merry bloodsuckers were long gone to wherever they fed tonight. Missy and Mischa hopefully had returned to their plots or were having hissy fits over the crowding in the Potter’s Field. The CPF was not quiet. It never was at any time, but that night there were newer noises I did not recognize and did not like.
I ran up the hill again and stood beside the oak tree. Two small Coleman lanterns sat beside Eulalie Plutarch’s still open grave. The chairs were gone, the fake grass and brass frame for the hydraulics were gone, but the diggers had not filled in the grave the way regulations said they should have done once all the mourners departed the site. I felt cold and looked around for a wandering Eulalie. But the night wind had picked up, promising either rain or a dust blow from the middle school’s dead grass and playing fields. No ghosts that the living eye could see.
I hopped over graves and between plots to go down the broad backside of the hill, careful to stay out of the pole light’s glare. Here and there I slipped and had to apologize to the occupant of a grave for the intrusion.  Stepping on the residents’ graves and thereby on them is not good public relations.  Even if the grave I apologized to would be empty, it set those still lingering at something like rest.
Varney hadn’t loosened any more headstones that I could see, but some ghosts are only a slight disturbance of the seating away from joining the nightly rounds. Especially for the newly buried. I knew Eulalie Plutarch by sight from the newspaper society pages and her son’s behavior (neither one flattered her). Her ornate pink granite headstone was set, but the grave was still open and I did not want her ghost haranguing me about the “abysmal service” offered here at the CPF.
I stopped in the dark at the edge of Section A before the path that led to B. The Coleman lanterns burned on high, one at one long end of the grave, the second at the other. A head of thick medium brown hair bobbed up and down at the rim of the grave, consistent with someone digging. I heard scraping and the occasional thunk! Of hitting the mahogany, brass-embossed coffin.
“Dammit, Jerry! You told me you left the casket unlocked!” barked a somewhat attractive baritone voice from inside the grave. I moved over to the edge perpendicular to the rest of the Plutarch plots. I stood in the glow of an eighteen inch kerosene lantern and looked down.
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Hundreds of Apps Can Listen for Marketing ‘Beacons’ You Can’t Hear
THERE ARE PLENTY of privacy-invading marketing ploys to Beacons worry about in life. Some examples are in your face, some Apps are more subtle. And a relatively new kind manages to be outright invisible Marketing 
In the most inconspicuous hustle of all, apps have increasingly incorporated ultrasonic tones to track consumers. They ask permission to access your smartphone microphone, then listen for inaudible “beacons” that emanate from retail stores, advertisements, and even websites. If you’re not paying attention to the permissions you grant, you could be feeding marketers information about your online browsing, what stores you go to, and what products you like and dislike without ever realizing it.
Ultrasonic Boom There are certainly legitimate uses of “ultrasonic cross-device tracking” technology. Some apps are part of rewards programs that automatically offer customers promotions when they visit particular stores. Others facilitate ticketing at events like sports games.
But plenty of apps deploys it without so clear a use case, at least as far as direct benefits for the person who downloads them. In fact, research presented last week at the IEEE European Symposium on Security and Privacy found 234 current Android applications that incorporate a particular type of ultrasonic listening technology. That doesn’t quite constitute a widespread distribution, but the infrastructure to support it has landed in more and more apps every year. And there are many mainstream examples, like the Philippines versions of the McDonald’s and Krispy Kreme apps. That doesn’t mean these apps have the function turned on, necessarily, but they are ready to support it at any time.
Beacon technology is also showing up in more physical locations. While the researchers didn’t find any ultrasonic tones being broadcast out on a sampling of television programming from seven countries, they did find that four of the 35 retail stores they visited Germany did have beacons installed. “It was really interesting to find beacons at the entrance of some stores in two German cities,” says Erwin Quiring, a privacy and Android security researcher who worked on the study. “It affects all of us if there’s some kind of privacy-invasive technique we don’t know about and which runs silently on phones.”
Sound of Silence It’s also easy to accidentally submit to ultrasonic beacon tracking. All it takes is granting microphone permissions absentmindedly. And because device microphones can “hear” beacons even without a mobile data or Wi-Fi connection, the tracking can work even when you’ve disconnected your phone from the internet.
Not only that but because these apps could be listening for beacons all the time, there’s also a risk of incidental data collection. Most companies that develop and/or use this “ultrasonic cross-device tracking” technology say that they don’t store any records of audible sound, they’re only listening to particular high-frequency pitches. But as with any “always on” sensing technology, the door is open for misuse.
Fortunately, it’s easy to monitor what’s accessing your phone, and stay in control if you’re wary of all this dog whistlin’.
BEACON CALL How to Block the Ultrasonic Signals You Didn’t Know Were Tracking You LILY HAY NEWMAN How to Block the Ultrasonic Signals You Didn’t Know Were Tracking You 505252351 BRIAN BARRETT Google May Have Found a Way to Make the Real-World Web Work Guiding the Blind Through London’s Subway With Estimote Beacons LIZ STINSON Guiding the Blind Through London’s Subway With Estimote Beacons Since you can’t stop beacons from emitting these frequencies around you, the best option is to reduce the chance that your smartphone can listen to them and feed data to a third party. The researchers suggest simply assessing the privileges you’ve granted your apps to make sure they make sense. Does Skype want microphone access? Sure! An app for some clothing store? Probably not. Common sense works best here.
On Android 7, navigate to Settings, then to Apps. Tap the gear icon in the upper right, then tap App Permissions to see and edit the privileges you’ve granted each app. And on iOS 10 go to Settings, then Privacy, then Microphone to see which apps have requested access, and which ones you’ve granted it to.
Separately, researchers have also developed a beacon-blocking Chrome extension and sample Android patch in an attempt to give consumers defense tools, and raise awareness of how operating system/browser developers could build protective features. But even without these measures, it’s important that beacon tracking not just be out of earshot, out of mind. By paying attention to what apps ask you for, you can figure out a lot about what’s happening behind the scenes.
Here Are Some Great Tips For Internet Marketing
A lot of people are in search of the “ideal” associate advertising machine. The golden manner to get their subsidized merchandise across the internet and bring in a consistent movement of profit through a website or weblog. That is something that facilitates all events worried upward thrust to the pinnacle in their own niche, however, does that simply exist?
Did you realize that cemeteries are a few of the maximum common WiFi hot spots for many cities? The motive is that genealogists want to go to cemeteries to collect data about their ancestors. Through giving, genealogists get entry to the Internet proper in which they are running the cities presenting the WiFi are meeting a completely critical need.
Research what your competition are doing when making your advertising plan. Look for keywords and notice who ranks in which. Use thoughts from a number of the higher ranked corporations as jumping off points and see where you can go from there. Use your competition efforts to look in which you ought to recognition your efforts.
Paintings for groups that fit your needs! In case your internet site talks about baseball, do not sell an agency for aged girls’ undergarments. Essentially, stay applicable. Make certain the records you promote stays proper on your own area, in any other case you could inadvertently force away customers. Make certain you allow your readers know you apprehend what they may be searching out!
Many small agencies can notably boom their revenue Via taking their advertising campaigns online. Due to the fact, more conventional venues of advertisements are slowly turning into much less worthwhile, as newspapers see declining subscriptions, small companies, which start advertising online are regularly capable of attaining a much extra extensive customer base and see a growth in earnings.
Get more people to visit your website By making sure that your content is straightforward to study and applicable to what you are promoting or showcasing. Additionally, make it easy to locate. Your area name ought to be simple and self-explanatory. By using following these fundamental concepts you are on the proper music closer to a successful website.
Make the most of Net advertising and marketing opportunities. you can effortlessly and affordably, accumulate banner advertisements from many professional outlets to help you start producing capitol as soon as they’re introduced. Banner commercials are a properly tested manner of increasing your net presence. Get the advertisements placed on your partner’s websites and sites which can be much like yours.
Set up your commercial enterprise profile on social media websites, consisting of Facebook, Twitter, and Linked-In. This makes it clean for customers to locate you and refer you to their buddies. Folks that like or observe you, can get hold of updates whenever you have got a sale or introduce a brand new product or a tip, about products they’ll have already bought, retaining your visibility excessive and your clients knowledgeable.
Whilst there may be no “best” device in life, there are A number of easy strategies and techniques that can be utilized to greatly boom your profits. It takes time, willpower, and study inside your niche to climb the ladder, however, in the long run, it’ll all be well worth it.
Kurt Tasche is a web entrepreneur, martial artist, and motivational speaker. He writes articles on the topics of Internet advertising and marketing, non-public development, community advertising, business, motivation, martial arts and greater. you could analyze greater approximately Kurt
Web Beacons And Insurance Agency Email Marketing
  Permit’s start with an easy definition of a web beacon. It is an object embedded into an e-mail, to determine if a user accessed the content material despatched. There are different names used for web beacons which include tracking pixel, invisible pixel, pixel tag, peel and clean gift.
internet beacons are often utilized in e-mail advertising to decide which recipients open the e-mail. Using beacons lets in virtual entrepreneurs to see which recipients have considered or interacted with the email they despatched. e-mail advertising and marketing tracking aren’t a perfect technological know-how, as tracking may be disabled through recipients who do now not use HTML e-mail clients, choosing textual content only emails. A few e-mail options like turning off photo display (at the same time as nevertheless The usage of an HTML email patron), can also disable web beacons.
an internet beacon is often a transparent photo picture, often only a pixel this is positioned unobtrusively in an e-mail. While the HTML code for the net beacon points to an internet site to retrieve the photograph, it may also pass alongside important advertising and marketing statistics. This statistics can consist of the IP deal with, a time stamp, period of time the beacon changed into considered, and the sort of browser that retrieved the e-mail. For plenty coverage organization email marketers, the most vital metrics relate to the open price and the following clicks that happened inside the electronic mail.
net beacon options are protected with maximum email marketing solutions, from the simple answers to
 high-end integrated systems. Whilst you send out insurance agency e-mail advertising campaigns, the advertising, and marketing engine will offer an option to tune the emails. If decided on, a tiny web beacon can be positioned on the bottom of your HTML e-mail to detect opens. Notice that I stated these could be on the bottom of HTML emails. In case you are The usage of text emails or multipart mime (the text part of that e-mail) the web beacon will not be used. This beacon is specific to every coverage electronic mail campaign that you ship. Whilst someone opens your e-mail and the beacon is downloaded, they may sign up as an “open”. Automated replies, together with out-of-the-office messages, often do not download the beacon and as a result, would not count as opens. Notice that this technique can range by means of e-mail advertising provider.
Now that you recognize how internet beacons assist track your coverage e-mail advertising and marketing campaigns, you may determine in case your business enterprise will use this tracking. Open monitoring is a reasonably innocuous and unobtrusive way to determine email marketing campaign efficacy and to first-class music the content material in your target market. Nearly all e-mail entrepreneurs do use open monitoring and discover it useful. Click tracking is taken into consideration relatively more intrusive, and that could be a choice each corporation can evaluate primarily based on their preferences. Some organizations offer tracking and cookie notifications on their site, When The use of that technology.
coverage e-mail advertising can be relatively effective for lead generation. The one’s groups missing the time, gear or staffing to feature this lead gen staple to their standard insurance enterprise advertising and marketing plan can outsource this initiative to a talented coverage advertising company.
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