#Edwin boroughs

[shititsarobyn]

PART FOUR of drawing every important/influential character from the Magnus archives we got Diego molina (I think that’s how u spell it), the poor fckn priest who got beat by practically every fear power Edwin boroughs and everyone’s favourite smarmy British fuckwit Elias Bouchard. Enjoy.

[coneyislandbabey]

going to california. -> e. roundtree

WARNINGS: some swearing, alcohol, sappy shit, use of my own personal headcanon that eddie's full name is edwin.

SYNOPSIS: you move to Los Angeles, and are surprised to run into an old childhood friend. word count: 3,351

The heat was different in Los Angeles. Not like New York City, where you’d spent the last few years of your life; all humid, thick walls of wet air that cloy inside your lungs and make you hot from the inside out, relentless, merciless warmth even in the dead of night, even with the windows open laying naked on the bed. No, here the air was thin and dry, the egg-yolk sun warming but not ruthlessly so. You stepped out of the car, joints creaking, and swallowed up a great lungful of that thin bright air, felt the clean glare of the sun bouncing off the hot car and onto your face. New. Everything you’d been hoping for already. 

After graduating from your Pittsburgh high school a semester early, you had booked it onto a train to Manhattan about five seconds after your diploma was in your hands, getting a job in the mailroom of a newspaper and crashing on your cousin’s couch, sleeping only a few hours a night and spending every other waking moment writing or wandering the five boroughs sniffing out experiences to write about. Writing was your lifeblood, and it had been practically since you’d first learned how to hold a pen. You never knew exactly what you wanted to do with your life– where you wanted to go, what you wanted to see, where you wanted to end up– you only knew that you’d be writing the whole way through. And that’s what you did for those few years in New York. You wrote feverishly, a woman possessed. Your cousin complained daily of the little green desk lamp you kept on at all hours of the night, sitting in your sleep shirt with your notebook propped on the arm of the couch, fingers bruised from the ever-present pressure of pen against skin. 

It worked out for you, though. All those sleepless nights, accepting strangers’ invitations to parties in Brooklyn or Alphabet City or even the Rockaways, dropping acid in people’s basements or getting drunk on the subway, even rising in the ranks of your job at the paper until you were a real and true reporter: after a year and a half, you had a half-presentable essay collection and a publisher who wanted  to make your wildest dreams come true. And that was that; your essay collection was published a little over six months later, and every week it climbed higher on the best seller’s list. In the wake of your immediate success, your publisher wanted to start working on a second publication, another collection of essays or short stories or a novel, whatever you wanted, they just wanted your name on another book in their arsenal. You readily agreed, of course– this was the only thing you’d ever wanted to do. But you walked out of that meeting, and onto the streets of Manhattan, and all you felt was suffocation where there used to be inspiration. 

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone in the city who knew you, and therefore knew your more impulsive tendencies, when you told them you’d bought a shitty old car for a hundred bucks and were planning to roadtrip your way to L.A. You hadn’t been behind the wheel of a car since before you’d moved to New York, but you’d seen the old thing with the ‘for sale’ sign tucked into the dash and you knew you had to have it. Already the inspiration was pouring in; a novelized account of your roadtrip across the country and ensuing introduction into Los Angeles society. The idea consumed your brain until there was room for nothing else, until you turned right around on the sidewalk and bought the car then and there. You spent the next 24 hours on a goodbye tour, visiting everyone you had come to love in those last few years, and then your meager belongings were all shoved into the backseat of your new acquisition and you were sitting in the driver’s seat, hoping to god you still remembered which pedal was the gas and which was the brakes. 

You made it to the opposite coast after two weeks of seedy motels, eating roadside burgers with strangers, and climbing up to the roof of the car every night to lay out and see the stars the way you never could living in the city. And here you were, a week into your new Los Angeles life, having just spent most of your book earnings on buying a tiny, dilapidated house in Laurel Canyon with huge windows and the perfect little overgrown backyard for you to sit and write in. You felt it in your bones already, that this was where life would start to become important for you. 

***

You had met Brandi the day you moved in. She and a few friends lived in the house across the street, and being the only one home at the time, she came over to help you move your stuff in when she noticed you unloading the car in the morning. She had a golden California tan and big blonde hair, and the kindest smile you’d ever seen. She was your best friend five minutes after meeting her. 

“You have to come by tonight,” she said by way of greeting as she let herself in the front door. It was late afternoon, and you were stretched out across the couch on your stomach, editing something you’d written in your notebook on the road trip here. Old habits die hard. She worked as a cocktail waitress at The Troubadour, and in the few weeks you’d been living in Laurel Canyon, she’d tried to get you to go nearly every time she had a shift, to no avail. 

“I don’t know, Brand–” you started, flipping your hair over your shoulder shifting to face her. 

“No, man. Enough of this writing bubble thing you got going on. You’re coming out tonight,” she said sternly. You couldn’t help the laugh you let out– Brandi was spot on. Every time she asked you to go out, you told her you weren’t interested because you were trying to double down and polish up the road trip writing you’d done on the way here. “How are you supposed to– how did you say it? ‘Be inducted into Los Angeles Society’ if you never go out and see Los Angeles society?”

“Okay, fair point,” you responded, sitting up. “I’ll go tonight, alright? You got me.” 

Brandi grinned, clapping her hands together in delight. “Okay, Yaz and Lynn will walk over and get you and you’ll all drive in together, alright? And I’ll see you there.” 

“Sounds good,” you nodded. 

“That was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I’ll see you later!” With that, Brandi disappeared down the front steps just as fast as she’d arrived. You sighed, closing your notebook and falling back onto the couch. After your few weeks of relative seclusion, you were more than ready to get back out into the world and have some fun, and yet, there was something uneasy growing in your chest. Actually going out in the city, that meant really starting this new part of your life, and well, honestly, that was a little terrifying. Better to rip the band-aid off now instead of rotting inside the house any longer. 

***

A few hours later, you were dressed in a pair of bell bottoms and a sheer orange tie-front top with big bell sleeves, your makeup and hair more done and put together than they’d been in months. You observed yourself in the mirror one last time, before lighting a cigarette and loping down the stairs to where Brandi’s two roommates were waiting, equally glammed up, for you. You sat in the backseat of Yaz’s car on the way over, window all the way down and your chin resting on the sill. You were used to city sights, you knew your neighborhood and so many others in New York intimately, but L.A. was different, and so thrilling. 

The Troubadour was different from the clubs you’d frequented in New York, but it still held some level of familiarity, and you were hit with an unexpected pang of nostalgia when you walked in with the girls. You grabbed Yaz and Lynn’s hands and pulled them farther in, toward the stage where an upbeat band was in the middle of a song, and immediately began dancing, trying to shake off the more complicated feelings of being here in this new place. When the song ended, you whistled loudly for the band, who were packing themselves up and off stage, making way for the next one. 

“Our next band is one we know and love here, give it up for The Six!” a silky-voiced man announced into the microphone before vacating the stage. In his place, a band made up of four guys and one blonde woman took the stage, setting up their instruments and getting ready. You cheered with everyone else in the crowd, though you weren’t familiar with them the way the locals clearly were. Within a few seconds, the guitars had struck up, and the front man was at the microphone, lashing out the first lyrics of a song. 

And you realized. No, you didn’t know them the way the locals did, but you knew them. The boys, at least. You recognized Graham Dunne first, that cherubic face and big baby blues the exact same as you’d last seen him in high school. Warren Rojas was behind him on the drums, unmistakable mop of curly black hair dancing as if it had a mind of its own on top of his bobbing head. The front-man, you guessed, was Graham’s brother Billy, just familiar enough to place the face despite never knowing the older boy back home. And, sure enough, there was Eddie Roundtree on bass. The last time you’d seen him, he was just a lanky kid with a guitar that he still gripped awkwardly in his too-big hands. (‘Not ‘too big”, you remember him telling you back then. ‘The rest of me just hasn’t caught up yet.”) He’d grown his hair out, you noted. Grown broader in the shoulders, too. His hands were no longer comically large, compared to the rest of him. He had such an easy command of the bass he was playing, so relaxed on the stage, like he belonged and he knew it. It was kind of hard for you to reconcile this version of him with the juvenile one you used to know. 

And they were good, too. You could see the way a group like them could become something great, something once in a lifetime. They weren’t there yet, but you could vividly see just how it could happen for them. Eddie Roundtree and the Dunne boys and Warren Rojas, all in Los Angeles at the same time as you, all of you so far from home. You couldn’t help the startled laugh that bubbled up and out of you. Lynn turned a questioning look on you, but you didn’t have time to turn and start explaining yourself before Eddie’s eyes swept your way, probably drawn by the laughter. Those brown eyes settled on your own, lazily, for a few seconds, before widening ever so slightly. His hands slowed, but never faltered, on the strings for just a second. Something zinged through your chest when you realized that he recognized you, too, even after all these years. 

You watched Eddie for the entirety of his band’s set. You couldn’t help it– his fingers dancing across the strings of his guitar were mesmerizing, and besides, you couldn’t get over the fact that this was the same boy from your childhood, that all of them were boys who’d slept through your shared classes, who had walked to your house after school to drop off your homework when you were home sick, who you commiserated with about running the mile in high school gym class. 

Brandi found you during the last song, pulling you into a hug and squealing about how happy she was that you actually came. Reluctantly, you tore your eyes from the stage and gave your best friend your full attention, allowing her to drag you back to the bar so she could buy you a drink. By the time you had a drink in hand, The Six’s set was over and a new band was coming on, so you stayed back by the bar even after Brandi had to leave you alone to go do her job. 

“I knew it was you, bluebird.” You whirled around at the nickname, coming face to face with Eddie. He was a few inches taller than you remembered, smiling down at you with a curious mix of surprise and something else swirling in his brown eyes. 

“I haven’t heard that nickname in years,” you laughed. “Hi, Edwin.” 

He groaned. “Nobody calls me that, woman.” 

“I always have,” you pointed out, arching an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, that’s true. What are you doing in L.A?” 

“Writing, mostly,” you shrugged. “I’ve got one book out and now the publisher wants another. You know how it is.” 

Eddie’s grin grew wider, if possible. “Glad to hear you’re still writing. I remember you back in high school, always carrying that notebook around that you’d never let anyone look at.”

You laughed, recalling the notebook yourself. You had treated that thing like it was your baby. “Yeah, well if you’re curious about my writing, you could buy my book and see.”

“First thing on my agenda tomorrow is to go out and get a copy,” he said easily, and you snorted. 

“Good, you better like it. And what about you guys? When did you get here?”

“Few months ago. We’ve been playing gigs at a few regular spots while we put together an album.”

“I want a copy of that record as soon as it comes out!”

“You’ll be the first one to get one outside of the band,” Eddie grinned. “Where are you staying?”

“I bought a place in Laurel Canyon a few weeks ago. It’s tiny, but still a hell of a lot bigger than the living room I was sleeping in in New York,” you laughed. 

“That’s where we are, too,” Eddie said, jerking his head in the direction of backstage. “And, New York? What have you been up to since high school?”

“Many things, Edwin, many things,” you grinned. 

Eddie stayed quiet, all soft smile and soft eyes aimed in your direction. You felt something long dormant start to shift in your chest. 

“I’m really glad to see you, bluebird,” he said after a moment, voice quieter than before. A sentiment just for the two of you to hear. 

You nudged his shoulder affectionately with your own. “Me too, Roundtree.”

“What do you say about us getting together some night soon? You can fill me in on this whole New York story,” Eddie suggested. 

“Only if you tell me how you all wound up here, doing this,” you responded. 

“Deal,” Eddie said, sticking out his hand to shake. You took it; his palm was warm and calloused beneath your own. 

***

“It was not like that!” you insisted through your laughter. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Roundtree.” 

Three nights later, and you and Eddie were sitting on your living room floor, bottle of scotch between you, very much on your way to being drunk and well into reminiscing about your shared high school days. He had shown up at your door a few hours earlier with a smile on his face, and the scotch and a copy of your book in his hands. You laughed so hard at the fact that he’d actually gone out and bought a copy of the book that you almost forgot to ask him how the hell he knew where you lived. Sheepishly, he told you that he’d seen you talking with Brandi and asked her after you left that first night. 

“I promise, birdy, Jimmy McKenna was gone for you for years. You drove the poor kid crazy because he would try to flirt with you all the time and you just never picked up on it,” Eddie explained through his own laughter. You sorted quickly through memories of the boy Eddie was talking about, and as what he said slowly clicked into place, you only began to laugh harder. 

“Oh, god,” you said, throwing an arm over your eyes. “I have always been such an idiot.”

“Not an idiot, just oblivious,” Eddie countered. “You were too wrapped up in your writing to notice anyone around you.”

“Not true! I noticed you,” you said defensively. 

Eddie’s eyebrows raised slightly, a split second look of surprise washing over his features before they settled back into that soft smile he always seemed to be wearing around you. He took another swig of whisky, humming. “Lucky me, then.”

You scoffed, trying to cover the way your heart stuttered with another drink of whiskey. “You were one of the only people I liked hanging out with back then, Ed. I liked stopping to watch you and Graham and Warren mess around with your instruments in the garage whenever I walked by. When I took off to the city, I really did miss you.” 

“Well, if it means anything, I missed you, too. We all did,” Eddie said. His voice was softer now, more serious, matching your own. “Nobody knew where you went, you were just gone when we got back from winter break.” 

“I just had to get outta there, you know?” you sighed. “I worked my ass off so I could graduate early. I had all these visions of the life I wanted to live, and it was so big. I was so focused on getting there that I didn’t even realize there would be anything to miss until it was all gone.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean. Don’t tell the guys this, but even now I sometimes miss Pittsburgh,” he admitted. 

“Me too,” you nodded. “I just keep collecting places to miss. Pittsburgh first, and now New York, too. I felt so suffocated there by the end, too, and now? Some nights I can’t even sleep because I’m not back on that awful couch in my cousin’s apartment, listening to the Manhattan traffic.” 

“Guess that’s life, right? You just keep collecting things to miss,” Eddie said. At some point, he had shuffled closer to you, both of you sitting with your backs leaning against the bottom of the couch. You leaned your head on his shoulder. “I’m really happy I don’t have to miss you anymore, bluebird.”

You looked up, and there were those eyes, big and brown and full of affection, so close. Looking right at you, right through you, like he could see all your guts and bones and thoughts and desires all at once. Riding the tide of whiskey-fueled courage and extreme affection you were feeling for the man sitting next to you, you reached out, palm against his cheek, and pulled his face to yours. The kiss was slow and languid, noses nudging softly against skin, Eddie’s mouth gentle against your own. His hand moved to rest on your hip, a warm and comforting pressure against your skin. 

When he pulled away, your breath catched at the sight of the silly little smirk gracing his face. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do that the entire time I’ve known you.”

“Oh fuck off Eddie, don’t tell me you had a crush on me in high school too and that’s just another thing I was too oblivious to realize,” you said, lightly shoving his shoulder. 

“Okay, I won’t tell you if you kiss me again,” he said, grinning.  Rolling your eyes, you grabbed his collar and pulled his face back to yours. You could feel his smile against your lips, which only made you want to hold him closer, to make up for all the years you’d gone without him in your life. 

[george-the-good]

THE KING UNVEILS THE WINDSOR MEMORIAL

The Royal Borough’s Tribute to the First Sovereign of the House of Windsor and its Site Beneath the Castle Walls // April 23, 1937

The scene after the unveiling by the King on St. George’s Day of the memorial to his father which has been designed by Sir Edwin Lutyens, R.A., erected on a site below the Castle walls presented by Lord Wakefield, and paid for by contributions from the inhabitants of the Royal Borough and of the city of Windsor, Ontario. The ceremony, which was attended by many members of the Royal Family including the Queen, Queen Mary, the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, and Prince and Princess Arthur of Connaught, started with a short dedication service conducted by the Dean of Windsor and then followed an address from the Mayor in his capacity of Chairman of the Memorial Committee.

GEORGE V MEMORIAL // British Pathé

The King in the course of his reply said: ‘To me personally the memory of my father will always bring the inspiration of a high example. I hope that in trying to fulfil our great responsibilities the Queen and I may be supported by some measure of that trust and affection which were so fully given to him and to my dear mother by the peoples of this country and of the Empire.’

[speakeysie]

What’s on at The Public NYC

Speakeysie News Desk New York City: The news is out — the cast for THE TEMPESThas been announced! The cast includes Public Works community members from partner organizations across all five boroughs, alongside an Equity cast that will include Tristan André, Brianna Cabrera, Sabrina Cedeño, Anthony Chatmon II, Renée Elise Goldsberry, Jo Lampert, Patrick O’Hare, Joel Perez, Edwin Rivera, and Theo…

[lboogie1906]

Hulan Edwin Jack (December 29, 1906 – December 19, 1986) was a prominent Saint Lucian-born New York politician, who migrated with his parents to the US from British Guiana (now known as Guyana). The family settled in New York City. He was a high school dropout, who went to work for the Peerless Paper Box Company Inc., in New York City. He began as a janitor but rose to become one of the firm’s Vice Presidents. His interest in politics, however, emerged early. He became active in New York City Democratic politics and earned a reputation as a loyal Tammany Hall operative. Beginning in 1940 he won seven elections to the New York State Assembly representing his Harlem district. In 1953, he was elected Borough President of Manhattan, becoming the first African American to hold the post. Elected more than a decade before the rise of big-city African-American mayors in the 1960s, he was the highest ranking African American municipal official in the nation. With an annual salary of $25,000, he was the highest-paid African American officeholder in the country. He served as Manhattan Borough President for nearly two terms. His second term was marred by a 1960 Grand Jury indictment for bribery and conspiracy to obstruct justice. He was charged with three violations of the New York City Charter. He was convicted of the charges and resigned from his position as Borough President, ending his political career. He emerged briefly in 1980 to endorse the candidacy of Lyndon LaRouche for President and to join LaRouche in creating the Committee for a New Africa Policy. The committee lobbied for short-term aid to Africa as well as long-term infrastructure development. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence https://www.instagram.com/p/CmwDyAkLf-E/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[superherotiger]

Superherotiger’s Masterlist!

 Hello everyone and welcome to my masterlist! Here you can find all my Irondad stories, Alternate Universes, and other random content in a nice and organised spot! Hope you all have a great day! -Superherotiger

~~~

Ao3 // Ko-fi // Commission information! // Super’s Sketches (art tag) // Tiger Talks (rambling tag) // Anthropros (Original series) //

~~~

FANFIC LINKS BELOW:

Alternate Universes:

Kindred Spirits (Soul Guide AU)

Of War and Starlight (Celestial Irondad AU)

My Enemy, My Destiny (Villain Irondad AU)

Stark Men are Made of Iron (Arc Reactor AU)

Something You Can’t Replace (Estranged Irondad AU)

Dear Fellow Traveller (Outlaw Irondad AU)

My Greatest Creation Is You (Android Spiderson AU)

The Runaway Starks (Teenage Irondad AU)

~~~

Multi-chapter:

Return to Me, The One I Love So Endlessly...: (Tumblr) (Ao3)

James Edwin Stark was born on the 10th of August 2001, and for the first time in his life, Tony Stark cried tears of joy.

All the fears, all the dread that had once consumed his soul washed away with a single look at the baby’s gentle features, so familiar and yet so distinctly unique at the same time. Tony made many promises that day. Promises to love his son, to protect him, to always be there for him.

On the 10th of August 2002, James Edwin Stark was stolen in the middle of the night, and his father’s world came crashing down. Shattered and alone, Tony whispered the same promise he’d made to his son the day that he was born.

…My love for you is endless…

Fourteen years later, hidden away from the world in a forest of pine, Peter Beck would dream of a day he might get to see the towering city of New York. And when a wounded stranger stumbles onto their property a week out from his birthday claiming to be a famous billionaire from New York, his dream might just come true.

...

(Kidnapped BioSon AU for the Friendly Neighbourhood Exchange 2!)

You always get back up (and I’ll catch you when you fall): (Tumblr) (Ao3)

Peter Parker always gets back up. But sometimes, he falls, and it hurts, and he breaks. Thankfully Tony Stark is always there to help pull him back to his feet...

...

(Whumptober 2020 prompts starring Irondad and pain.)

The Strongest Instinct: (Tumblr) (Ao3)

Tilting his head towards the screams of a fresh kill echoing down the street, Tony blasted off in his nanotech suit and weaved through the abandoned cityscape. He didn’t know why he stayed there. His corrupted mind would never given him a chance to find the answer, but he always stayed in the city. Wandered the crumbling boroughs, lingered in places he didn’t remember. As if he was searching for something…

But just as quickly as the thought would occur, it would get washed away again.

Hunger. Hunger. Hunger-

That’s all there ever was…

...

(Alternate timeline to Episode 5 of What If...? starring zombies, Irondad and hurt/comfort)

~~~

Irondad Oneshot Masterlist

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Irondad Drabbles

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Irondad Analysis Masterlist

~~~

Marvel:

A Friendly Chat: (Tumblr)

Thor and Tony talk late one night on the helicarrier and fosters the beginnings of a lifelong friendship. (Drabble)

Woven With Care: (Tumblr) (Ao3)

The passionate ramble was enough to draw a real laugh out of the sorcerer this time, and Peter warmed knowing that he had successfully made Stephen happy for once; a feat Mr Stark had sworn was impossible based off of their own snarky interactions. It was a rewarding sight, Peter had to admit. But even though the conversation moved on and their banter remained as light as the sunshine that splashed across the city, Peter couldn’t stop thinking about the yellow gloves that encased the Sorcerer Supreme’s hands.

It was obvious Stephen took his position as Sorcerer Supreme very seriously. With great power comes great responsibility as Ben would say, and Stephen had maybe the heaviest responsibility of all: protecting the universe. Peter supposed it shouldn’t have been that surprising at all that Stephen would take his uniform just as seriously.

But if the sorcerer insisted on suffering through the heat of summer just for the sake of protecting the world, then the least Peter could do was try and make it a little bit more bearable along the way.

...

Birthday Gift for the lovely Iron-Mum, starring our beloved DoctorDad and SpiderSon!

~~~

[victorianwhitechapel]

Margaret Hames

Margaret Hames (aka Margaret Haymes, Margaret Hayes)

Birth date: 1833 Attacked: December 8, 1887

Complexion: ?  Eyes colour: ?  Hair colour: ? Height: ? Occupation: ?

Resting place: ?

***

~ EARLY LIFE ~

Margaret Hames (or Hayes, Haynes), was once married to John, a ship cook, until he died. She was Anglican (Church of England).

On the morning of Monday March 7th 1887, Margaret, who was 54 and living at the 18 George Street lodging house in Spitalfields (since renamed Lolesworth Street, where victim Rose Mylett would live in 1888; adjacent to the 19 George St common lodging house were Emily Horsnell and Martha Tabram lived), was admitted at the Whitechapel Infirmary due to a contusion in one or both hips. Margaret was in the Infirmary for over 2 weeks and was discharged on 23 March 1887.

~ ASSAULTS ~

On the morning of December 8 1887, Margaret was attacked in Osborne street/Brick Lane vicinity (Whitechapel), receiving face and chest injuries that kept her in Whitechapel Infirmary until 28 December. It is possible that a misrecollection of her assault as fatal may have lain behind references to the Fairy Fay murder at Christmas 1887.

On the evening of the Easter Monday bank holiday, April 3, 1888, both Margaret and fellow lodger Emma Elizabeth Smith went to Limehouse, a district in the London Borough of Tower Hamlets in East London two miles away from Whitechapel, but they did not necessarily go together.

The midnight hour found Margaret walking alone when two young men approached her. While one distracted her by asking the time, the other hit her in her face and then bit runaway. Margaret then decided to return back to the 18 George Street lodging house.

While rushing along Burdett Street in Limehouse, Margaret saw Emma Elizabeth Smith at 12:15 AM standing at the corner of Farrance Street talking to a man dressed in black and wearing a white scarf. Margaret didn't stop to let Emma know she was leaving nor asked if she'd like to join her.

Approximately four to five hours after, Emma would be beaten and raped by a gang of three or four young men whom she didn't know, on the corner of Brick Lane and Wentworth Street, Whitechapel. Upon her arrival at the 18 George Street lodging house, the deputy keeper, Mary Russell and one of the other lodgers, Annie Lee, took Smith to the London Hospital, where she would die on April 4th 1888 at 9:00am. Medical investigation by the duty surgeon, Dr G. H. Hillier, revealed that a blunt object had been inserted into her vagina, rupturing her peritoneum.

~ INQUEST ~

The police were not informed of Emma's assault until 6 April when they were told an inquest was to be held the next day, Saturday 7th April. The inquest was held at the London Hospital, which was conducted by the coroner for East Middlesex, Wynne Edwin Baxter, and was attended by Russell, Hillier, and the local chief inspector of the Metropolitan Police Service, H Division Whitechapel, John West.

Margaret would testify at Emma's inquest as a witness.

The inquest jury returned a verdict of murder by person or persons unknown. Baxter concluded that Emma Elizabeth Smith had been “barbarously” murdered, adding that he had never heard of such a dastardly murder and that “it was impossible to imagine a more brutal case”. Baxter had no idea of what was yet to come.

Nothing else is known about Margaret, nor when she died and what age she was.

***

TO KNOW MORE

Casebook The Importance of Fairy Fay dissertation and message boards

Casebook dissertation - Street Gang

Casebook mesage boards - Margaret Hames

Casebook forums - New solution

The Ripperologist

JTRForums

Red Jack (Italian site)

BEGG, Paul; FIDO, Martin & SKINNER, Keith (1996): The Jack The Ripper A – Z. The Ultimate Guide to the Ripper Mystery.

WESCOTT, Tom (2014): The Bank Holiday Murders: The True Story of the Whitechapel Murders.

[ghostificati0n]

here is a thought ive had a few times about tma

so sometimes the victims are about to be hurt by an entity. theyre terrified, about to be comepletely traumatized, and then a different entity shows up and is like "hey hands off, theyre marked" and the other one is like "oh. my b"

like... its like theyre fighting for territory.

the best examples i can think of are edwin boroughs when he was in the hilltop house and he was praying and then the spiral was like "yo desolation this ones mine, ive got big plans" and then he was saved

the other is, i think, when melanie was on that haunted place w sarah? because it seemed like sarah (stranger) was trying to protect her from the dark so she could get her first or something. i could be remembering that wrong, but thats what it seemed like to me at least.

anyways i dont have any implications or anything i just think its silly that sometimes they step on eachothers toes and are like oops sorry ill get back to tormenting this dude ive been messing with for 25 years instead

[crunchy--milk]

Throw back to episode 19 where father Edwin boroughs wished he'd never decided to leave his comfort zone

[magnusmusings]

Mag 20 - Desecrated host

Edwin Boroughs, 30.05.2011, The oratory, Woodstock rd, Oxford. 

The second part of the statement from episode 19. 

Edwin flees the house at hilltop road and finds that when he tries to pray, he finds it hard to breathe. He tried to read the bible, upon trying to read Luke found Genesis instead: “Behold, thou hast driven me out this day from the face of the Earth. And from thy face shall I be hid. And I shall be a fugitive and a vagabond on the earth. It shall come to pass that everyone that findeth me shall slay me”

He returned home, passing out, and when he woke up he decided to talk to Father Singh. When talking to him, he suggests that Edwin talk about it in confession for the sin of spiritual pride. Edwin agreed and confessed, but after a pause Father Singh said his sins went deeper than that, recounting a full list of every sin Edwin had ever committed since he was 6 - and Edwin realised that whoever this was was not speaking with Father Singh’s accent. He fled, running past Father Singh as he left, and ran down the streets of Oxford, finding that they had a different layout than what he knew. 

A man stepped out of the oratory and told him it was time for mass. He went inside, noting that candles covered every surface, all statues and crosses had been removed and the pews were empty. He dressed in a sickly pale yellow stole. 

The pews were full when he came back of people with yellowing skin and wide smiles. The liturgy of the word began but all Edwin could hear was the sound of the bell. The same was for the second reader, who tried to read Mark Chapter 9 verses 14-19, but the volume of the bell caused Edwin to collapse. He was brought communion wafers and wine for the Liturgy of the Eucharist. He later went to get the rest of the host, but the curtain covering on the box feels stuck, and he tugs it until it comes loose. He eats a wafer and notes to texture is wrong, realising he is eating human flesh. 

Edwin in his disgrace decides to never take action again, not even ending his own life. He plead guilty and plans to spend the rest of his days in prison, occasionally being visited by his old colleagues, but he can only hear the sound of the bell when they speak. 

Notes: The symbology for yellow in liturgical colours is described as representing “light which in turn is a symbol of the presence of God. It is also symbolic of renewal and hope, especially in the resurrection of Jesus.”. The sickly nature of it is likely a perversion focused on the ceremony of the eucharist. Edwin is currently serving 2 life sentences at Wakefield prison. Bethany never lived at the house she claimed to live in. The stole was delivered by Breekon and Hope. Martin is still off “sick”. Tim and Sasha worked on this.

Entities: The flesh, The spiral

Names mentioned:

Edwin Burroughs

Father Singh (colleague of Edwin)

James Mann (victim of Edwin)

Christopher Bilham (victim of Edwin)

Bethany O’Connor (victim of the spiral)

[cooperhewitt]

We’re Walkin’ Here!

The first street signs in New York City, known as “direction boards,” were posted in 1793 and were largely used on horsecars.[1] They were intended to “rationalize the city’s built environment,” and have undergone many changes over the years. The recognizable rectangular shape of today’s signs, like this one in Cooper Hewitt’s collection, date to about 1910, when they replaced the more ornate Victorian signage of the 19th century. Though New Yorkers are likely most familiar with green and white signs (or brown and white for historic landmarked areas, or blue and white for streets with nicknames), New York’s signs have a much more colorful past. From the 1910s to 1930s, a blue and white rounded style was in use, and in the 1970s, each borough’s signs had a designated color combination. Each of these changes aimed to bring greater order and clarity to the city’s streets. In 2010, in an effort to increase safety and legibility, the Federal Highway Administration required that all signs be produced with a mix of uppercase and lowercase letters in a typeface called Clearview, replacing the all-uppercase Highway Gothic typeface that prevailed in New York City for over 50 years.[2] This sign for Brooklyn’s Barclay Street showcases the Clearview typeface:

Sign, ClearviewHwy® Typeface: Barclay St, 2011; Printed by 3M ; USA; acrylic pressure sensitive film, 3m flexible UV ink print on 3m diamond grade series 4000 full cube prismatic reflective sheeting, mounted to brushed sheet aluminum substrate; H x W x D: 20.2 x 52.5 x 0.3 cm (7 15/16 x 20 11/16 x 1/8 in.); Gift of Donald Meeker, Meeker & Associates, Inc., and James Montalbano, Terminal Design, Inc.; 2011-24-2

Though the city-savvy pedestrian might overlook these new signs, many small changes make this typeface much easier to read in a greater variety of conditions. The diagram below (also in Cooper Hewitt’s collection) makes clear the marked difference in legibility between typefaces:

Poster, Comparative Anatomy of FHWA Series E-modified to Clearview 5-W, April 20, 2011; Designed by Donald Meeker (American, b. 1947) and Christopher O’Hara (American, b. 1968) for Meeker & Associates (Larchmont, NY), with graphic design by James Montalbano (American, b. 1953); Color inkjet print with Epson UltraChromeK3 ink on Epson Proofing Paper Commercial; Gift of Donald Meeker, Meeker & Associates, Inc., and James Montalbano, Terminal Design, Inc., 2011-24-1

The material elements of each sign also work to improve visibility in varying conditions. The sheeting and inks, produced by 3M, are designed to deliver “optimal performance at all sight distances” and angles of approach. The ink is designed not only to resist graffiti (including spray paint, permanent marker, stickers, and lipstick!) but also weather erosion for up to 10 years. Though apparently opaque, the ink in fact allows light to pass through it, allowing it to remain equally legible in both ambient daylight and also under direct light at night.[3] The New York City Department of Transportation continues to further the goal of ‘rationaliz[ing] the built environment’ by installing and maintaining over one million street signs, and you can see how they do it here!

  Mir Finkelman is the Collections Assistant for Drawings, Prints & Graphic Design at Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum

  [1] Burrows, Edwin G., and Mike Wallace. Gotham: A History of New York City to 1898. Oxford University Press, 1998, 363.

[2] Dunlap, David W. “Throughout the City, a New Generation of Street Signs.” The New York Times. August 14, 2012. Accessed August 05, 2019. https://ift.tt/2KRlIDV.

[3] The gift of these signs to Cooper Hewitt in 2011 included a compact disc with some brief explanatory materials: Disc, Digital Font: Clearview Font Family, 2004; James Montalbano (American, b. 1953); Digital code in True Type Format, Gift of Donald Meeker, Meeker & Associates Inc., and James Montalbano, Terminal Design, Inc., 2011-24-5.

from Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum https://ift.tt/2Ml2nOo via IFTTT

[ammarchawdhary-blog]

Sell And Buy Ugly Houses Fast In Massachusetts

She was a celebrated the big apple town stage role player named Abby Sage. however once her ex Daniel McFarland killed her lover, journalist Albert Richardson on Nov twenty-five, 1869 at Richardson's place of labor at the big apple apse, it absolutely was Sage's manner that was placed on path, not simply McFarland.

Daniel McFarland was born in eire in 1820, however, he emigrated to Yankee together with his oldsters once he was four-years-old. McFarland's oldsters died once he was twelve, feat him Associate in Nursing orphan. Determined to create one thing of himself in America, McFarland worked at exhausting labor in an exceedingly harness look, saving his cash in order that he might attend school. By the time he was seventeen, McFarland had saved enough money he was ready to attend the distinguish conference university - Dartmouth College. At Dartmouth College, McFarland studied law and did very well. Upon graduation, McFarland passed the bar examination, however rather than active law, McFarland took an edge at Brandywine school, teaching delivery -- the talent of clear and communicative speech

In 1853, McFarland traveled to Manchester, New Hampshire, wherever he met an awfully lovely 15-year-old lady named Abby Sage. Abby came from a poor however respectable family - her father was a weaver - however Abby was quite bright, and shortly she became an educator, similarly as a printed author. Four years once that they had met, McFarland and Abey Sage married. She was simply nineteen, and he was double her age.

Later Abby wrote in Associate in Nursing official document regarding McFarland's murder trial, "At the time of our wedding, Mr. McFarland diagrammatic to ME that he had a flourishing practice, good political prospects, and property price $30,000, however whereas on our bridal tour he was forced to borrow cash in the big apple to alter the United States to proceed to Madison, Wisc., that was set upon as our future home. we have a tendency to had resided during this city however a brief time once he confessed that he had no practice of any consequence, which he had devoted himself alone to land speculation, a number of that had resulted disastrously."

In Feb 1858, the McFarlands enraptured to the big apple town. McFarland told Abby that in the big apple town, he had a much better likelihood of commerce $20,000 to $30,000 price of property he in hand in Wisconsin. However, McFarland sold-out nothing initially, and shortly Abby had to pawn most of her jewelry to pay the rent. With the bills column up and still no cash coming back in, McFarland patterned it absolutely was higher he went at it alone. As a result, McFarland sent Abby back to her father's direct New Hampshire. In late 1858, McFarland was finally ready to sell a number of his Wisconsin properties. Soon after, he brought Abby back to the big apple and that they settled in an exceedingly rented bungalow in the borough. There their initial son Percy was born in 1860, and a second son Daniel was born in 1864.

McFarland's land-selling business went flat and he started drinking heavily. Abby later wrote, "At initial adult male. McFarland professed on behalf of me the foremost extravagant and rabid devotion, however presently he began to drink heavily, and before we have a tendency to were married a year, his breath and body were steaming with vile liquor. I implored him to reform, however, he cried out: 'My brain is burning and liquor makes ME sleep.'"

At the beginning of the warfare, the McFarlands, in short, came to Madison, Wisconsin. presently McFarland completed, beneath the proper circumstances and with some coaching, his lovely, young spouse would be the higher wage earner of the 2. To implement his set up, the McFarlands traveled back to the big apple town so as to highschool Abby to become Associate in Nursing role player.

In the big apple town, Abby tried her hand at dramatic readings, and he or she discovered she had a talent for the stage. One issue semiconductor diode to a different, and shortly Abby was acting in many plays and creating a good deal of $25 every week. Abby's career advanced thus quickly, presently she appeared opposite the good actor Edwin Booth within the bourgeois of Venezia (Edwin Booth was the older brother of reformist Booth, the person World Health Organization shot and killed patriarch Lincoln). Abby conjointly supplements her financial gain by writing many articles regarding youngsters and nature. She even confined a book of poetry entitled Percy's Book of Rhymes once her son Percy.

Abby's creative achievements allowed her to extend her circle of friends. She became quick buddies with newspaper top executive journalist, his sister Mrs. John Cleveland, and the big apple apse publisher prophet Sinclair and his spouse.

However, his wife's successes did nothing to mollify the wild nature of McFarland. He used his wife's new friends and their affiliation to induce himself a political appointment. Abby later aforementioned, "Through the influence of journalist, founding father of the big apple apse, I procured an edge for him (McFarland) with one amongst the academic administrator marshals."

Soon McFarland became jealous of Abby's new friends, and his drinking accumulated exponentially. McFarland unbroken the money Abby made of her acting and writing and spent it all on booze. McFarland started gap Abby's non-public mail, and if he did not like what he can, he would threaten to kill Abby and himself.

[edvardsenpetersson63-blog]

History of Earls Court Exhibition Centre

The Earls Court Exhibit Centre is an excellent exhibit centre, meeting and occasion venue situated in west London, England. It is among the largest event locations in main London which becomes part of an area in the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea in London. Years ago the area of Earls Court utilized to be a really rural area as well as was covered with areas as well as market yards. Before the Norman Occupation which started in 1066, the Saxon Thegn Edwin held the lordship of the area. The major shift for this area in London began when the building and construction of the Metropolitan Area Railway station, this was a stimulant for future advancement. After 1867, the area was transformed into a densely populated suburban area with a total of 1,200 homes as well as two churches. In 1867 Eardley Crescent and also Kempsford Gardens were constructed as well as in 1873 saw the beginning of building in Earls Court Square and Longridge Roadway. In 1935 the land was sold as well as the new proprietors made a decision to build a show centre which we currently understand as Earls Court. It was designed by the engineer C. Howard Crane of Detroit . C Howard Crane had great credentials as he serviced New york city's Radio City Music Hall. The task was completed over two years at a price of ÂŁ1.5 million. Steel trusses reach 87m clear throughout the auditorium, it has 42,00 square metres of space on 2 floorings. The exhibition place opened its door to the general public for the extremely initial time with the Chocolate and Confectionery Event on 1 September 1937. This was a success and came to be the start of excellent things for the event centre. In 1991 anther hall was opened up by Princess Diana adding one more 40% of floor area. Today the exhibition facility and nearby Olympia are run by EC&O Venues and also has many occasions throughout the year bring in people from all profession. There are talks that the existing proprietors of Earls Court as well as Olympia remain in conversation with the boroughs of Hammersmith and also Fulham as well as the Royal Borough of Kensington as well as Chelsea to knock down the existing centre and redevelop the area with up to 8000 brand-new flats, retail and also potentially a new convention centre. This is just talk in procedure right now and also it would certainly take several years to finish as well as it will not start until after London has organized the Olympics in 2012. Planning a check out to Earls Court? Lookig for Earls Court Hotels or Hotels near Hammersmith Apollo? Try Kensington West which lies in a great part of Kensington, near to Earls Court Exhibition Center. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5TqmvAOrebA

[erikahbriah]

The Engagement

A trip to the north side of London wasn’t particularly unusual for the Todd family, but to move the family of five anywhere, planning was usually required. The carriage was stacked with luggage and the horses were biting at their bits and pawing their hooves at the ground. An observant passerby might have seen a large grey and red fox peeking out from just within the interior of the open door, but the location of the Todd home was on the outskirts of the borough and generally had little traffic.

Kit had been one of the first seated, her face already staring out a window as her mother came in next to sit beside her. Kit had been meticulous in her packing for this excursion but despite that, she couldn’t help but feel as though she had forgotten something as the cart pulled away from their home. As she watched the familiar landscape of her home roll away, her thoughts drifted to the implications of this journey. She reminded herself of Edwin’s advice. The words had burned in her mind and largely contributed to the anxiousness she felt in settling into a marriage as soon as possible.

For this particular occasion, every member of their clan was present. Kit found it rather annoying to be trapped in such a tight space for the hours it would take to get to their destination, but it was a necessary evil. Benjamin and Francis spent most of the trip teasing one another. Henry was broody, as per usual. Mrs. Todd kept up an idle chatter but for the most part, the entire family seemed peculiarly pensive. Kit kept her hands folded in her lap as the English countryside scrolled past her window.

It was late in the evening when they finally arrived at the Hendricks estate. The Hendricks were a very well off family, owning several hundred acres of land.  As they pulled up the drive to approach the enormous grey house, a long row of trees lined the pathway on either side. The home itself was massive in comparison to where she had grown up. This was a family that had been here for many generations and was well established.

Kit felt the wheels finally pull to a stop and the subtle rock back of the carriage as the horses drew the cart into position. Her two youngest brothers bounded out. Henry followed. Kit was the last to finally exit. She could feel a familiar thudding in her chest as her heartbeat quickened in anticipation to meet the man she would inevitably call her husband.

She found her voice caught in her throat as her brown eyes scanned the perimeter. Waiting in front of the house was an entourage of sorts that she hadn’t entirely been expecting on the first night. She felt her mother’s hand at her elbow as she was guided up the main steps. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a small red fox chase a deer, trying to nip at its heels. She cracked a brief smile before the gravity of the evening washed it away.

As she proceeded up the steps, she finally laid eyes on the adult versions of the Hendricks boys, who were standing beside their parents in front of the large door that made up the entrance of the home. Both sons had their father’s strange hair: black with a streak of white on either temple. They were easily recognizable. When they had been younger, she had always thought it was rather intriguing, but now it seemed a bit unfortunate as it made them appear older than they actually were.

Her gaze remained neutral as it settled on Gregory, the taller of the two boys, as their fathers made introductions. She offered a shy smile to him instinctively. Gregory was broad chested and stocky, with a smug expression permanently affixed to his features that she guessed was the result of being brought up in an especially well to do family. She hardly paid attention to anything that was said, instead studying Gregory’s demeanor the entire time as pleasantries were exchanged. They were welcomed into the home and the door seemed especially loud as it closed behind them.

As was customary, a traditional dinner kicked off the evening with a full spread with all of the trimmings. Kit was ushered towards the center of the long table and seated beside her intended; with her family, the Hendricks and the other guests filling in the rest of the chairs.

Tonight, those gathered would bear as witnesses for the test, she thought to herself as she looked around the large room. Once passed, their families would iron out the rest of the negotiations before heading home in the morning.

Admittedly, she was rather looking forward to any time she would be able to spend getting to know the person she was expected to spend the rest of her days with. It had been years since they’d spent much time together and she was desperately curious to find out what his thoughts were on this whole arrangement. What his hobbies were. What church he attended. When and where the ceremony would be held… She had no shortage of questions for him.

That was until she felt the press of his hand on her knee beneath the table. Then just one prominent question came to mind. She flashed him a confused look that did nothing to discourage him. She had to shift her position several times before he finally seemed to catch on, to which she chalked up to a simple misunderstanding. They obviously had more things to talk about than she realized.

The rest of the meal proceeded rather uneventfully. She felt too nervous to eat very much. As a result, several comments were made that they she ate like a bird and wondered if they had perhaps mistaken her for a Todd. She handled it graciously, trying to laugh along with the joke. It did little to help her appetite.

As dinner was being cleaned up, the party was moved to one of the grand ballrooms. People shuffled in with full bodies and snooping minds. A giant crystal chandelier hung from the center, causing her to look up at it in wonder as she approached it. It momentarily provided distraction as she was led to a side room to change. A handmaiden unlaced the tight bodice her mother had wrapped her in, helping her to undress. She was instead draped in a simple black robe, as they begin pulling at the pins in her hair to let her unruly curls free. Despite the clothing, she felt exposed as she was chauffeured back into the main room.

Kit took her place near the center of the room, facing Gregory who had changed into matching attire. Though she had done this hundreds of times before, she flexed her fingers and nervously shifted her weight from foot to foot as she felt every pair of eyes turn on them both. Her bare feet felt bold against the polished wood flooring. She had hoped a glance from him would exhibit similar anxiousness but instead his near black eyes remained cocky as ever. Instead, her focus shifted to her mother, who stood along the side of the room as part of the circle of people that surrounded them.

Mr. Hendricks approached her father with a posture that imitated friendliness. His silhouette sharply contrasted her own father’s, who was lanky and slender, with similar red hair to her own. Mr. Hendricks had a rounder stomach, shorter stature, and that trademark dark streaked hair that made him striking to look at.

“Now, we both know well enough these sorts of tests aren’t really necessary anymore but tradition is tradition, yes?” Mr. Hendricks asked with a chuckle. Her father nodded before both men turned their eyes towards Kit and Gregory in the center of the room. “Let’s get started then.”

Kit’s eyes drifted to Gregory, with a bit of a wild stare. They both understood what was expected and she could see him shivering already. The test was simple enough, but there was something inherently thrilling about the change regardless of the reason why. She inhaled a sharp breath, feeling that familiar itch run up and down her arms and legs. Her skin visibly rippled. As she exhaled the second breath, her form was already altered. The room broke out in muted whispers.  

In the place where the woman had stood, a small delicate looking red fox with brown eyes stepped out from beneath the black fabric. The creature made a circle around the pool of cloth before returning to her spot on the floor to sit back on her haunches to watch what emerged from beneath the collapsed robe on the other side of the circle. It was hard to see the black nose that emerged first, followed by the form of a sturdy looking little animal. His fur matched the color of the fabric, aside from a white stripe on either side of his face. A badger.

Both fathers came together and clasped hands together. With the ability to shift proven, final arrangements could be made. Her tail flickered back and forth as the group of witnesses began to chatter more loudly amongst themselves, all undoubtedly shifters themselves.

“Very smooth,” an older man remarked.

“Mine was quicker.”

“A fine looking fox.”

“I wonder which their first born will be.”

The fox kept its distance from the badger in the center of the room, though he sniffed about as he let his empowered senses settle in. Hypothetically, foxes and badgers got along well enough, even burrowing together on occasion. Despite the assurance she had be given that they were an ideal match, she was glad Gregory wasn’t able to see her skeptical look as she took in his form.

“That was the easy part,” a woman said under her breath a bit too loudly. Kit did her best not to turn her head in the voice’s direction.

The transition back was less comfortable. Changing one way or the other expended a great deal of energy. It was a difficult task to do in quick succession and the next part was more or less a means for the families to show off now, more than anything else. Once they had proven their abilities and shown their true form, the next was a display of prowess. How seamlessly one could turn. How quickly they could do it. How fast they could go back. These were all points bloodlines bragged about. Strong lines executed each of these points flawlessly, despite the great deal of effort and energy it required.

As such, once the approval was given, Gregory was already back in his place twitching. Not wanting to be shown up, Kit took several graceful side steps back to her spot. She was competitive and despite how draining it would be to turn back so quickly, this was now a race. She focused her attention on the task at hand.

In a few more breaths, she was standing before the room nude. The handmaidens stepped forward quickly wrap the robe back around her. Men on the other side did the same for Gregory. No one in the room seemed bothered in the slightest at the brief display. Nakedness was one of those things that was tolerated leniently among her kind, as a result of necessity. Modesty couldn’t always be afforded, and this was one of those times that it was altogether thrown out the window. Kit had learned long ago not to be ashamed of either form.

The girls tried to help push her pins back in place but she waved them away as soon as she felt the first misplaced one. “It’s quite alright. Thank you,” she insisted softly. “…I think I will retire early,” Kit told them graciously, trying not to act at all fatigued. Undoubtedly, the spectators were comparing notes on who was the quickest. Who seemed most drained. Her mother had had the foresight to warn her about all of this and advised her not to give them any fodder to work with. As such, a quick exit was the most dignified way to handle it without risking a fainting spell.

The girls seemed to understand this and showed her the exit of the room. They didn’t touch her or give her an arm to lean on. With steady careful steps, Kit walked the length of the room with a solemn expression. Even when she was out of sight, she didn’t reach out for help. Not until she had reached the long wooden staircase that led to the upper floor of the home, did she finally dare rest a hand on the railing. Her entire frame felt weak. Her legs ached each time they lifted up to another step. Her body felt heavy and slow. At the top of the stairs, she was out of breath and could feel sweat on her brow.

The girls showed her to the room where she would be residing for the rest of the evening. Her things had been brought up earlier and as soon as she was able to, she waved the help away so that she could be left alone with her thoughts. As soon as the door closed, she collapsed onto the bed and stared up the ceiling with her robe still loosely clinging to her frame.

She was formally engaged.

[randyy457sawyers]

Barnet Live Scores, Fixtures & Results |

Barnet fa cup results - List of Barnet F.C. seasons - Wikipedia

Promoted to the Southern League Premier for —67 the club ended up 5th but had reached the Southern League Cup final only to lose to Guildford City over two legs. The club reached the third round of the FA Cup the following season, but lost 1—0 to Colchester Unitedwho went on to knock out Leeds United cip the fifth round.

That year's cup run included a 6—1 first round win over then Fourth Division Newport Barnet fa cup resultsequalling the competition's all-time record for a win by a bwrnet side over league opponents. The —72 season proved one of the most successful. Using just 15 players for resultw competitive matches Barnet reached Wembley in the FA Trophylosing 3—0 to Stafford Rangers, and reached the final of barnst Barnet fa cup results League Cup, drawing 2—2 with Hereford on aggregate.

The replay, played the next season, was a 2—2 draw but Barnet went on to win 7—6 on penalties. The match at Loftus Road ended 0—0 and the replay at Underhill drew in excess of 11, spectators. Rangers eventually won 3—0.

Barnet F.C.

Jimmy Greavesalthough playing resu,ts midfield, still ended the season as leading goal scorer with 27 goals. By virtue of their Premier Division positions in seasons —78 and —79, Barnet home given a place in the newly formed Alliance Premier League. In the first three Alliance seasons, Barnet just avoided barnet fa cup results, but in —3 they finished 15th and a year later 9th. Then in —85, when it looked like Barnet would face relegation, manager Barry Fry left to take charge at Maidstone United.

Rssults season was resurrected under the guidance of ex-player Roger Thompson, with the team losing only one of their remaining thirteen league games. In season —86 they finished 14th but reached the final of the Bob Lord Trophy only to lose to old friends Stafford Rangers.

He led Barnet to their best league position for many years finishing runners-up in the renamed Football Conference scoring 86 goals. Despite turbulent times off the field, during season —87 the first season of automatic promotion to the Football League for Conference champions [4] the club maintained their scoring, again finishing runners-up, Scarborough taking the automatic position into the Fourth Division.

Lincoln City came down but in —88 they returned ahead of Barnet in the championship. This time it was Darlington that took the top spot. A good xup in the —91 FA Cup culminated in a home defeat by Barnet fa cup results in the 3rd round. Barneg win in the last game of the season against Fisher Athletic finally saw Desults promoted to the Fourth Visit website of the Football League.

Barnet F. Their early reputation was of playing fast, weblink football, [ citation needed ] a reputation only enhanced by their first ever league match which they lost 4—7 to Crewe Alexandraand a 5—5 draw to Brentford in the League Cup in their next match.

In their first season of league football the club reached the promotion playoffs but lost to Blackpool in the semi finals. The —93 season saw controversy at Barnet fa cup results as Barnet chairman Stan Flashman regarding club accounts and players' wages, resulting in some nationwide back page headlines. Flashman also barnet fa cup results his son, Mark, to the club as a reserve goalkeeper.

In spite of the financial problems, Barnet finished third in the new Division Three and secured the final automatic promotion spot. Manager Barry Fryhowever, left Barnet with a handful of games remaining and was replaced by his assistant Edwin Steinwho himself then left to join Fry in the summer at Southend United. Barnet fa cup results Gary Phillips took over as manager during a difficult summer in which Barnet marginally survived a vote of expulsion resulys a Football League EGM, and lost the vast majority of their promotion winning side in a tribunal which nullified the players' contracts.

Phillips cobbled together a squad from the few remaining players and free transfers. In August Ray Clemence became sole manager for two seasons, finishing 11th and then 9th in Division Three. Then at the start of the —97 season Ray Clemence left to become England goalkeeping coach, leaving Terry Bullivant in charge. The following season saw Barnet slump to 15th place, their lowest Football League finish until that point, barnet fa cup results Bullivant was still approached to take over as manager of Reading that summer; he accepted the job, and John Still replaced him as manager.

The following four seasons saw the club yo-yo in form, as they finished 7th and reached the play-offs in barnet fa cup results, hit a new low barnet fa cup results 16th place in —99, and then finished 6th and qualified for the play-offs once more in — Despite a 7—0 victory in his first match in charge vs Blackpool, the club ultimately won only five more games for the remainder of the season and finished in bottom place after failing to rfsults second-bottom Torquay Unitedbarnet fa cup results to the Conference after exactly a decade.

Still was reinstated as manager in barneh final stages of the season, but was ultimately unable to rescue the club. Still remained related site charge for the club's return to the Conference, and with a good first half of the season it looked as if their stay would be a short one.

However, a terrible run of form after Banet saw the side crash to mid-table and led to Still's final departure from the club. He rezults replaced by Peter Shreeveswho only months before had been in charge of Division One side Sheffield Wednesdayand quickly turned Barnet's form around. Barneet only the Conference champions going up in this season the prospect of promotion was already long-gone by the time Shreeves was appointed, but the 5th-place finish that they ultimately managed would be good enough for the play-offs introduced for the following season.

Unfortunately Barnet did not maintain their momentum into —03, and Shreeves was sacked late in that season, with Barnet in very much the same mid-table position he had found them in. Martin Allen took over as barnet fa cup results and brought a turn-around in results, though it was again this late to mount a promotion challenge and they finished a distinctly underwhelming 11th.

Former Stevenage Borough manager Paul Fairclough official website Allen for the barnet fa cup results of the —04 season. The club's form stuttered, falling out of contention for automatic promotion and very nearly even the play-offs barnet fa cup results well, but this time the club were able to rebound and secure a 4th-place finish, setting up a play-off semi final barndt the side directly above barnet fa cup results, Shrewsbury Town.

This was taken to penalties after a 2—2 aggregate score Barnet won 2—1 at Underhill, Shrewsbury won 1—0 at Gay Meadowwith Shrewsbury winning 5—3 on penalties. The following season, barnet fa cup results, with Fairclough at the helm, the Bees went one better than the previous season and were crowned Champions of the Conference Premier and regained their football league status, after amassing an impressive 86 points in the season, and scoring 90 goals with it.

In match details we offer link to watch online Maidenhead United Barnet live stream. If this match is barnet fa cup results by our partners live streaming service, you can watch Maidenhead United Barnet on your PC and on mobile - iPhone, iPad, Android or Windows phone. Please note that the intellectual property rights to stream such events are usually owned at a country level and therefore, depending on your location, there may be certain events that you may be unable to view due to such restrictions.

Tu 06Oct Sa 10Oct Notts Co 2 Tu 13Oct Weymouth 2 Sa 24Oct Leiston 2 Tu 27Oct Wrexham 2 Su 08Nov Burton 2 Sa 14Nov Bromley 2 Tu 17Nov King's Lynn 2 Sa 21Nov Woking 2 Add links. No competitive barnet fa cup results was played between and due to World War I. No competitive football was played between barnet fa cup results due to World War II.

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