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shadowdianne · 4 years

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Half of it: Reunion

Welp. I threw this one in just 40 minutes the day I watched the movie. Didn’t proof-read it much afterwards and I merely thought on sending it to the roomie -narrows eyes at the Tumblr darkness: M, give me your Tumblr pretty pls.- But I guess... why not sharing it here xD

Attention: Not many spoilers or plot points discussed aside from, you know, the obvious. At any case proceed with caution if you haven’t watched it yet.

The air was icy when the train stopped, the rails whining at the sudden halt and by the time Ellie jumped out of compartment, boots firm against the pebbled road, she breathed in the scent of asphalt and soon-to-be snow that permeated the nighttime breeze.

She could have gotten in town much earlier, when the night wasn’t a shadow already passed over the horizon. On her wrist, dutifully annotated, where the timetables of the different trains that would have run from her campus to her childhood home but she had felt reluctant to do so and when she squared her shoulders and brought her right hand back to where she had put her trolley with a heavy thud mere moments before, she nibbled into her bottom lip, nerves getting the best of her once again.

It wasn’t the city on itself, she told herself as she started to walk towards her right, the train groaning as it picked up speed once more. She hadn’t felt a reaction inside of her the moment the rails had curled and run through the few and distant buildings that signaled the line between forest and town. The lush green marred with salt-peppered grey concrete had made her smile for once after all: the knowledge that she wasn’t stuck but merely passing a different kind of feeling to get drunk into once she realized that she had left for good. Yet, as she walked past the rails and the small cabin she had spent so much in, nerves didn’t quite leave her lungs. Spreading, mutating, they formed a tight ball around her throat that made her swallow by the time she reached her home, her former home.

She knew her father was inside, the lights on the kitchen’s window enough to tell her she had already been spotted by the man and the sounds coming from the ajar door signaling that he had already put a film to watch together while they ate. This time, though, the one he was probably giving her like every other pause he now used to give her whenever she called, amidst exams and outings and books that should be read for the next class she was supposed to take, a whirlwind of unspoken understanding.

He had never quite asked her why she had trouble wondering what life was back in town whenever she asked about Paul work. She suspected that, eventually, it didn’t matter how far off he was from the little town’s busy life: rumors were unperturbable to time. It was only a matter of it before he got to hear what had happened months ago. She would answer the questions that would spill of course, but she doubted very much that the man would ever question her.

And that, she considered while she pushed the door open, was as much of a blessing as it was a curse.

Not that she hadn’t talked to others about what had happened during her last months of her senior year. Private as she was there were things that eventually spilled out of one’s mind. Even if one didn’t want it so. But she still wondered if she would feel raw or betrayed if her father questioned it, if he told her to confide in him.

Morose wasn’t a feeling she often felt like but the thought of being halfway through her university career, the two years bell having been ringing on her ears ever since she had turned her last paper in, felt like a looming doom that she couldn’t run fast enough from. Which was probably the reason why that, when her father had asked her if she would be up for a small reunion of two to three days using up the few days between papers and the time she would need to go back to her in-university job, she had said yes.

Maybe to show him that there was nothing new about herself. Maybe to tell herself that there was, in fact, something.

Nevertheless, she took the last steps and smiled at his silhouette, at the way his shoulders hunched and moved as he stepped forward to hug her. Short, brief, awkward. They still were after all. That much hadn’t changed.

Patting his back, she looked around, spotting the bag that was emblazoned with Munsky’s Dinner symbol. The telling note on how his father has kept contact with the little glance of the outside world that she had brought into those years ago.

“You look good.” She said, words rusty but language prevailing and Edwin nodded curtly with just a shadow of a smile curving his lips. It felt good, she thought, pointing at what had been her room, trolley still behind her, secure on her already freezing hand. “Let me change and we can start dinner.”

He said nothing to her, merely remaining busy while she climbed up and by the time she reached the last few steps she tucked her chin into her chest, content and less anxious that there hadn’t been any tearful reunion nor cutting questions into the what or how. Pushing the trolley until it stopped at the end of her bed, she glanced around, flinching ever so slightly at the empty feeling of the room; the thought of being trespassing into a person she had been once not quite hitting her as strongly as she had feared it would. She hadn’t changed that much obviously. But there were things, small things, that made her look at the wood on the walls and the rickety pieces of written papers on the side table, before glancing towards the duvet, expecting almost to see something there, a letter that could have been sent but had never reached her for a reason she would get to listen to later.

Her bed was empty, though, devoid of a letter, and she looked at the window in where the dying lights of orange-ish lamps pooled around the rails as they mixed with the grey smoke that seemed to permanently come off from the nearby road. The one she had taken time and time again to get to school.

In there, dividing the slope that would eventually turn to the town proper, the stone wall made of red bricks blinked into existence. She hadn’t looked towards it when she had gotten off the train, the metal shielding her from it, the thought of seeing her father blinding her to anything else. Which, perhaps, had been her error because there, waiting, cans of paint and a blank slate of white painted over the red awaited her with one single word written in deep blue. The kind of one that could be water if one tilted their head enough, eyes narrowing until the lights hurt less.

“Hello.”

And it could be a message to anyone. It probably was, her rational part whispered to her as she turned and stormed out of the room, trolley forgotten, patterns of dust imprinted on her boots. But she had shared enough letters to recognize the handwriting, enough, she hoped, to be able to link to them in a second. And not like she hadn’t looked at the string of messages they had one shared a few times during her stay; hoping against hope to be on the receiving end of a message that would telegraph the longing she herself felt. Eventually, she had realized that she could also be the one sending a message, three dots that would eventually turn into a confession with a much deeper meaning that the one she had almost shouted to everyone in the midst of a proposal that should have never happened. And, at the thought of doing that, at the weight that on itself had brought upon her mind, she had revoked herself from the sentiment: unsure if she was strong enough to bear it.

It had been a fling. She had told herself. An almost maybe. A promise in the shape of a kiss in the middle of an empty road; a brave yet stupid declaration that had kept her on stitches every time she considered coming back there for just a spell. No one should weigh themselves for the things they did back when they were 17.

No one should be that cruel.

Her father said nothing as she run past him, the handle on the main door frozen beneath her fingertips, the shock minute with the way she pulled it back towards her as she stepped into the road once again. Crossing to the other side of the road she stood at the brink of the now empty rail, her boots straining against the metal, the sole of her feet protesting. Beneath the cans, tucked away, a note laid, paper that felt as if it could fling against her fingers if she wished hard enough. Crouching next to the cans, one hand caressing the paint, feeling the coldness coming from it, the slowly drying white, she unfolded the note with two fingers and her teeth, moving the paper away from her as she refused to move her other hand away from the wall.

“I wasn’t sure then. I am now.”

She tried to laugh, a blubber escaping her lips, peal of bubbles that piled up within her as she looked up.

It had been two years. Two stupid years made in a dare, in a flamboyant act of selfish righteousness. But she had gotten to learn that she could be selfish on her own love. If that made sense. It the words she had uttered had been something beyond an escapist explanation of why she had ever convinced herself that what she was doing was nothing but right. It shouldn’t be this complicated. It didn’t need to be. She had gotten the taste of how it could not be if she dared to look past the circle she had put herself in once.

And then, as a distant nagging sensation, her phone buzzed on her back pocket. Once, twice.

She never got to see what it was, as she heard the pebbles sliding off the path when a new set of boots moved in closer, waiting for her to look up.

Aster’s was looking at her with the same intensity she had once upon a time looked at her, when they had been in the lagoon and Ellie had thought she would combust if she ever dared to ask to feel her fingers around her forearms once more as she battled for a shirt that she had felt unsafe enough, exposed enough, to keep on wearing. She had her phone on her hand, the light illuminating her skin, her wrist, her nails. She had a stroke of dyed color on her hair. Not clear enough for the descending light to catch on it but deep enough for her eyes to pause on it, on the way it framed her eyes, her face, her smile. Pointing towards the wall, she shrugged half-way.

“Paul told me you’d be here. I wanted to leave as soon as you saw…. But I couldn’t.”

There were hundreds of questions Ellie felt like asking, and some others she didn’t feel like questioning. She could feel her father’s eyes on the kitchen’s windowsill, the scent of already heated food reaching them both as she stood, slowly, while curling her fingers, forming a ball she now made it reach the front pocket of her parka, skin wet and crackling from the humid paint.

She had wondered. Of course, she had. She had expected herself to be bolder in front of Aster only due to the years that had passed, for the exhilarating thought of maybe she being right.

She was none of those things: she felt robbed of both voice and temper. There was nothing but the ache on her muscles of thousands of steps never taken. Yet, she realized that she quite liked the thought: of the possibility that the message on her phone could be, even if she never dared to look at it.

“It’s been two years.” Her voice felt rough at the back of her throat, her tongue like wood and sand, the same sand she hadn’t gotten to see until she had left. And even then. Aster halted at her, lips half-closed, a look of recognition shining through her eyes. Laughing weakly, she nodded again, giving her a second half-shrug, this time aimed at both, rather than the wall that now extended at Ellie’s right, like a page about to be filled.

“You said two.”

“I said two.”

It was an idiotic set of words, combinations and grammar be dammed. Yet Ellie laughed a little as they kept on looking at each other. As if expecting something. She had been the one rushing last time, hasn’t she? Was that what was expected from her? To be the one keeping the promise she had told.

But then, Aster moved forward, timidly at first, more secure later, and promptly grasped her forearm, the one with her painted skin, and pulled, making her stumble as her fingers slipped away from the pocket, crusty and suddenly warm enough to be melt. She pushed back, because that had been them, at the very beginning, before anything had transformed into the mess that had been. And when she did, muscles answering, she felt a second pull, this one on her shoulder, poignant glance darkening the space.

Her lips felt numb at the end of everything, her chest open, her eyes hurting when her eyelids responded.

“How about no more waiting?”

This time she didn’t answer. Not with words.

Words could be screwed. And promises of a time that should be spent waiting scattered in the wind, against the windows, over the rooftops, beyond the town’s sign.

#half of it #fic #hi there I'm not dead

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mostly-history · 5 years

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James Edwin Wide with Jack the baboon, both of whom were employed as railway signalmen in Cape Town (South Africa, sometime before 1890).

James “Jumper” Wide worked for the Cape Government Railways until a mistimed jump between railway cars led to him losing both his legs. After recovering from the amputation, Wide made himself a pair of peg legs and asked the his employers to give him any kind of job at the station. He was made a signalman, which meant that he was in charge of conveying information to conductors via the signals placed on the tracks.

The job was done sitting down, but Wide still needed to get to and from work. He made a trolley for the journey, but it was still very tiring. Then in 1881, he spotted a baboon leading an oxen cart in the local market. Wide contacted the baboon's owner, who told him that Jack was trained to obey several basic commands, as well as to push and pull heavy loads.

The owner either gave or sold the baboon to Wide, advising him to give him a few sips of Cape Brandy before bedtime every night if he wanted him to work the next day. Otherwise, he would be miserable or even become rebellious.

At first, Wide trained Jack to push his trolley to and from work, but he eventually realized that Jack was much more clever than he had been told. One of Wide's duties was to take a key from a locked box and take it to the train drivers when they whistled four times. Jack quickly picked up on this, and began to grab the key and take it to the drivers himself.

He also learned how to operate the levers in the signal box. The levers controlled certain sections of track, and would be pulled in a certain order, based on whether the train driver tooted one, two or three times. Man and baboon ended up working together on the job.

Not everyone was happy about this. A member of the public saw Jack changing railway signals at Uitenhage near Port Elizabeth, and filed a complaint. Jack and Wide were fired, but Wide appealed to his employers and argued that Jack was reliable. Several of his colleagues supported him in this. So the company tested Jack's abilities, and Jack passed with flying colours.

The two got their job back, and Jack actually became an official employee of the Cape Government Railways. He received a salary of 20 cents per day, and on Saturday he was given a bonus paycheck of beer and snacks. The railway station attracted many tourists who were curious to see the signalman baboon. Jack also guarded the railway station, chasing away vandals and trespassers, and sometimes he even handled the station's gardening work or worked as a key guard.

Jack died in 1890 of tuberculosis, after working nine years for the railway company.

#history #disability #animals #railways #south africa #cape town #james edvin wide #jack the baboon #baboons #chacma baboon

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sturnioloshacker · 5 years

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Baby love! Will you do a HC with Edwin and an anxious girlfriend? The parent rule works on me, though. I'm too anxious to ask for something for myself, but if you need me to ask for something for you, I can do it. 🖤

Of course my lovely!! Not sure if this is gonna go how you want it, but I’ll give it a shot 💕

- You’re Edwin’s girlfriend of 2 years.

- Throughout those 2 years, you’ve been through so much together.

- Recently, things have been difficult.

- You’ve started to become anxious about almost everything.

- You don’t understand why but you have to deal with it.

- You’re out and about with Edwin when you see an ice-cream truck.

- You both go up to the window to get your ice-cream.

- The man asks what you’d like and you freeze.

- “Ma’am? What would you like?”

- Edwin takes over and gets you your ice-cream.

- As you leave, Edwin looks at you, worry plastered on his face.

- “Everything okay, princesa?”

- You nod and continue to eat your ice-cream.

- “I don’t know what came over me! That was so weird!”

- The next day, Edwin goes to make breakfast and saw no bread.

- “Baby! Wanna come supermarket shopping with me?”

- You rush down the stairs, attempting not to trip and fall whilst putting your shoes on whilst going down the stairs.

- “Wasn’t expecting you to come down but okay!”

- You head to the store to get bread and other things you needed for the week.

- “Baby, you reckon you could go and get some strawberries that we could use for our chocolate fondue tonight?”

- You happily oblige and head to the aisle where the fruit and vegetables are.

- You saw that there were no punnets of strawberries so you asked the guy next to you if you could get some strawberries from the back.

- You came back with the strawberries and placed them in the trolley.

- As you walk to the registers, you get hit with the realisation that you just asked a random stranger for something without going into “deer in headlights” mode.

- You leave feeling happy that you weren’t anxious and you could be free to ask for anything and everything.

Hope you enjoyed, girlie 🥰❤️

#edwin honoret #prettymuch #edwin honoret headcanon #prettymuch headcanons

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nicholasdaily · 1 year

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*Losing things was a running theme for Edwin and he had spent the better half an hour trying to track down either the Guardian or his son. Unfortunately for Nickolas, Edwin found him first. He entered quietly, not saying anything as he crept further into the room and leaned over the couch much like he had a week or so ago. He peeked past Nicky’s shoulder to see what he was working on.*

Unlike the past few days, Nicky had ditched the museum entry room in favour of avoiding excessive foot traffic and shielding prying questions in order to give his full attention to an ongoing project. He was alone, sitting in blissful white noise of fervent pencil scribbled across paper and the occasional hum that escaped past his lips, leg bouncing with excited energy and jostling the old notebook in his lap.

Nearly done.

He straightened up, little pops crawling up his spine after being hunched over his work for so long, and Nicky peered at the page. Then, as a final thought, he signed his name at the bottom.

It was only when he turned to grab the card that Nicky finally noticed he had an audience. He jumped, pencil flying out of his hand. “Holy— Edwin!”

#admin: pretend I answered this like a week ago #natm #night at the museum #natm rp #nicky daley #edwin trolley

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booksandwords · 3 years

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The Erasure Initiative by Lili Wilkinson

Read Time: 4 Days Rating: 4/5

The quote: 'You're a good person, Edwin. I've watched you, the last few days, and I know. You care about people. You're moral. Look at how upset you are about this - it proves that you're a good person. You developed that random selection technique because your ethical code was so strong that you didn't want to sentence anyone to death, even imaginary people.' — Cecily Cartwright

Warnings: violence, death, the obvious memory loss/ amnesia, torture (arguable) and discussion of the penal system.

It's been so long since a book left me guessing as much or as long as The Erasure Initiative did, with the last two being last year's The Grace Year and Impulse. The ending was so surprising to me, so impactful, I really didn't see it coming and it left me a little in shock. As a disclaimer, this is my first book by Lili Wilkinson so if this is typical of her endings forgive me. It will not be my last. I really want to read After The Lights Go Out (dystopian fiction) and The Boundless Sublime (cults and based on her own family). Just some warnings before I get into the review some content warnings for the books. This novel deals with violence, death, the obvious memory loss/ amnesia, torture (arguable) and discussion of the penal system.

When I'm reading I always keep a notepad with me it helps with writing reviews in The Erasure Initiative that came in useful especially at the start as we meet the passengers. Sandra (a middle-aged woman), Catherine (a much older woman), Riley (a 20 something white guy covered in prison tattoos), Edward (a young Asian kid 14ish), Paxton (chisel-jawed guy aka hot guy), Nia (brown-skinned girl with cheekbones to kill for) and the protagonist Cecily (rich white girl). None of the passages has any clue who they are (episodic memory) but retains their general knowledge (semantic memory). It's slowly revealed that each of the passengers has their own skill sets that can be useful. But specifically, Edward is a genius and Nia is a hacker. Honestly, it felt like the start of Dark Matter to a degree but it is also a trope, a good one if it is done well as it was here. As they try to figure out who they are, what is going on and the mystery of The Blue Fairy they are asked a series of trolley problems (see my review for Life is Strange: Dust) getting more and more ridiculous than more high stakes. Moving into the realisation that not everything they've been told is the truth and what are they going to do about it. Developing relationships and unravelling their previous ones. On the timeline of the book. The whole thing takes place over 7 days with timestamps to move through the time and some decent time jumps. Not all of the trolly problem questions are included as that would just get tedious.

There were some beautiful descriptive passages anxiety and passages on memory, free will, power. It does discuss some important and thought-provoking issues leaving the reader to make up their own mind about them. The idea of nature versus nurture. There is some pretty heavy discussion of the penal system, overcrowding and potential solutions. I really liked that message that we need to find alternatives this isn't the right one but it is something. Given the intended audience, it is something that needs to be discussed and as this Australian YA the setting feels even more important.

The writing was appealing to me. As was the choice to tell parts of the history at the end of each chapter. Rarely ever is it telling you what you think it is in the moment. As a protagonist, Cecily was complicated, neither good nor bad just human. Her emotions during the whole experience feel relatable. Look I honestly loved this book. From the way, it gave you enough information to figure out what was going on through the additional information to the relationships between the characters to the twists and turns. I appreciated learning the background of the characters even when they were gone. I do recommend this to people if they want a fairly fast read that gives you something to think about.

#the erasure initiative #lgbtq+#loveozya #lili wilkinson #book review #ktreviews #read 2021 #spoilers on goodreads #tw death #tw violence #tw torture #booklr

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indiastreetantiques · 3 years

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Vintage UK MCM teak bar cart with African afrormosia wood trim. The cart sits atop supports of copper tubing to which are attached large castors. This system was improved by inventor Stanley Edwin Wapshott for Flexello castors in England. This specific upgrade was made to patent number 860,352 and filed on June 25, 1962. Wapshott invented three improvements for Flexello castor systems between 1958 and 1963. DIMENSIONS: 27.25ʺW × 16.5ʺD × 27ʺH Learn more by visiting: https://www.chairish.com/product/3501978/mcm-1960s-teak-and-afrormosia-serving-cart-bar-cart-tea-trolley-with-flexello-castor-system #servingcart #teatrolley #barcart #teakfurniture #ukmcm #flexelloengland #flexello #midcenturymodernfurniture #indiastreetantiques #danishmodernsandiego @chairishco @passportsandiego @best.of.sandiego @littleitalysd (at India Street Antiques / Danish Modern San Diego) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cas8bd3pH3p/?utm_medium=tumblr

#servingcart #teatrolley #barcart #teakfurniture #ukmcm #flexelloengland #flexello #midcenturymodernfurniture #indiastreetantiques #danishmodernsandiego

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bluemagic-girl · 5 years

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🔥NYC retiring last subway cars built in St. Louis🔥

NYC retiring last subway car built in St. Louis

The last STL subway cars in NYC are rolling off into the sunset.Reports out of New York say that the last R-42 subway cars built in our town — by the old St. Louis Car Co. — will have their last run on Wednesday.

The R-42 subway car of the MTA in New York (Photo by Metropolitan Transit Authority)

The city did not disclose plans for the retired cars, “known for their silver, stainless steel exterior and bench-seating on the inside,” the Gothamist reported.According to NYC’s Metropolitan Transit Authority, the last run for the cars will start Wednesday morning on the A-Line (for those hip to NYC public transit schedules).The MTA said the city bought about 400 of 44-seat R-42 cars in 1969. They were the first cars on the NYC line to be completely air-conditioned. Most of the cars were retired between 2006 and 2009.Although the authority did not mention any plans to save them, it pointed out that two R-42 cars have already been memorialized: Cars Nos. 4572 and 4573, used in the subway chase scene in 1971’s Oscar-winning “The French Connection” can be seen at the New York Transit Museum.According to a rail-enthusiast website, American-Rails.com, St. Louis Car was founded in 1887. Its plant and offices were at 8000 Hall Street in north St. Louis.The company’s business exploded in the 1890s and it bought out two other competitors, Union Car Co. and Laclede Car Co., to keep up with demand.

An amphibious personnel carrier splashes into Grand Basin lake at the foot of Art Hill during the Civil Defense demonstration in Forest Park on Sept. 27, 1942. The splashing jolt caused some of the riders to lose their seats. The tracked vehicle was made at St. Louis Car Co. in Baden, which made subway cars, trolleys and railroad cars during peacetime. (Post-Dispatch)

File Post-Dispatch staff

During World War II, the company switched mainly to building buses and trolleys. For the war effort, it made gliders, amphibious landing vehicles and seaplanes.In the 1950s, St. Louis Car Co. was one of the 10 largest employers in the area.In 1960, the company was bought by General Steel Industries and focused mainly on building subway cars for transportation systems in New York and Pennsylvania.

The first car for the Gateway Arch tram that eventually took visitors to the top in 1967 is shown off in 1965. Shown are, from left, Edwin B. Meissner Jr., president of the St. Louis Car Co.; Robert C. Staudt, vice president of Planet Corp., prime contractor for the tram system; and Col. R.E. Smyser Jr., executive director of the Bi-State Development Agency, operator of the tram. (Post-Dispatch)

For STLers, the company’s enduring claim to fame is that it built the trams which carry people to the top of the Gateway Arch.On July 24, 1967, the first day the trams operated, one of the first riders to the top was company president, Edwin B. Meissner Jr.The company finally closed its doors in 1973.

St. Louis Post-DispatchYour weekly capsule of local news, life advice, trivia and humor from Post-Dispatch columnist Joe Holleman.

Jeff Small, charged with methamphetamine possession in 2018, worked at KSDK from 1993 to 2012. He recently finished a court-mandated drug program.

“The Jesus Rolls” is a sequel to the Coen Brothers’ classic comedy “The Big Lebowski,” which was released in 1998 and starred STL’s John Goodman.

She spent two years at KMOV after stints in Indiana, California and mid-Missouri.

Restaurants in Milwaukee and Texas have begun to serve versions, and a plain gooey butter cake can be bought at a Brooklyn, New York bakery.

The National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws gave Missouri Gov. Mike Parson a “C,” while Illinois Gov. J.B Pritzker earned an “A.”

Hulsey, a St. Francis Borgia High grad, takes over the big chair on Saturday and Sunday mornings. She will continue to report during weekday mornings.

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#News

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twilighthalfcab · 5 years

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Cargo Fleet Trolley Bus Depot

John Edwin Wigston (b.1939)

Dorman Museum

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blackkudos · 8 years

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Octavius Catto

Octavius Valentine Catto (February 22, 1839 – October 10, 1871) was a black educator, intellectual, and civil rights activist in Philadelphia. He became principal of male students at the Institute for Colored Youth, where he had also been educated. Born free in Charleston, South Carolina, in a prominent mixed-race family, he moved north as a boy with his family. He became educated and served as a teacher, becoming active in civil rights. As a man, he also became known as a top cricket and baseball player in 19th-century Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Catto became a martyr to racism, as he was shot and killed in election-day violence in Philadelphia, where ethnic Irish of the Democratic Party, which was anti-Reconstruction and had opposed black suffrage, attacked black men to prevent their voting for Republican candidates.

Early life and education

Octavius Catto was born free in Charleston, South Carolina, as his mother was free: Sarah Isabella Cain was a member of the city's prominent mixed-race DeReef family, which had been free for decades and belonged to the Brown Fellowship Society as a mark of their status. . His father, William T. Catto, had been a slave millwright in South Carolina and gained his freedom. He was ordained as a Presbyterian minister before taking his family north, first to Baltimore, and then to Philadelphia where they settled. Pennsylvania abolished slavery before the Revolutionary War ended. William T. Catto was a founding member of the Banneker Institute in that city and author of "A Semi-Centenary Discourse," a history of the First African Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia.

Educator and intellectual

In Philadelphia, Catto began his education at Vaux Primary School and then Lombard Grammar School, both segregated institutions. In 1853, he entered the all-white Allentown Academy in Allentown, New Jersey, located east of the Delaware River. In 1854, when his family returned to Philadelphia, he became a student at that city's Institute for Colored Youth (ICY). Managed by the Society of Friends (Quakers), ICY's curriculum included classical study of Latin, Greek, geometry, and trigonometry.

While a student at ICY, Catto presented papers and took part in scholarly discussions at "a young men's instruction society". Led by fellow ICY student Jacob C. White, Jr., they met weekly at the ICY (which eventually was renamed as the Banneker Institute, in honor of Benjamin Banneker). Catto graduated from ICY in 1858, winning praise from principal Ebenezer Bassett for "outstanding scholarly work, great energy, and perseverance in school matters." Catto did a year of post-graduate study, including private tutoring in both Greek and Latin, in Washington, D. C. In 1859, he returned to Philadelphia, where he was elected full member and Recording Secretary of the Banneker Institute. He also was hired as teacher of English and mathematics at the ICY.

On May 10, 1864, Catto delivered ICY's commencement address, which gave a historical synopsis of the school. In addition, Catto's address touched on the issue of the potential insensitivity of white teachers toward the needs and interests of African-American students:

It is at least unjust to allow a blind and ignorant prejudice to so far disregard the choice of parents and the will of the colored tax-payers, as to appoint over colored children white teachers, whose intelligence and success, measured by the fruits of their labors, could neither obtain nor secure for them positions which we know would be more congenial to their tastes.

Catto also spoke of the Civil War, then in progress. He believed that the United States government had to evolve several times in order to change. He understood that the change must come not necessarily for the benefit of African Americans, but more for America’s political and industrial welfare. This would be a mutual benefit for all Americans.

"[...] It is for the purpose of promoting, as far as possible, the preparation of the colored man for the assumption of these new relations with intelligence and with the knowledge which promises success, that the Institute feels called upon at this time to act with more energy and on a broader scale than has heretofore been required".

On January 2, 1865, at a gathering at the National Hall in Philadelphia to celebrate the second anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation, Catto "delivered a very able address, and one that was a credit to the mind and heart of the speaker." (Christian Recorder, January 7, 1865).

In 1869, Bassett left ICY when he was appointed ambassador to Haiti. Catto lobbied to replace him as principal; however, the ICY board chose Catto's fellow teacher, Fanny Jackson Coppin, as head of school. Catto was elected as the principal of the ICY's male department. In 1870, Catto joined the Franklin Institute, a center for science and education whose white leaders supported his membership in the face of racial opposition. Catto served as principal and teacher at ICY until his death in 1871 and was followed in that position by Richard Theodore Greener.

Activist for equal rights

The Civil War increased Catto's activism for abolition and equal rights. He joined with Frederick Douglass and other black leaders to form a Recruitment Committee to sign up black men to fight for the Union and emancipation. After the Confederate invasion of Pennsylvania in 1863, Catto helped raise a company of black volunteers for the state's defense; their help, however, was refused by the staff of Major General Darius N. Couch on the grounds that the men were not authorized to fight. (Couch was later corrected by US Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton, but not until the aspiring soldiers had returned to Philadelphia.) Acting with Douglass and the Union League, Catto helped raise eleven regiments of United States Colored Troops in the Philadelphia area. These men were sent to the front and many saw action. Catto was commissioned as a major, but did not fight.

On Friday, April 21, 1865, at the State House in Philadelphia, Catto presented the regimental flag to Lieutenant Colonel Trippe, commander of the 24th United States Colored Troops. An account of Catto's presentation speech was reported the following day in the Christian Recorder:

The speaker then paid a tribute to the two hundred thousand blacks, who, in spite of obloquy and the old bane of prejudice, have been nobly fighting our battles, trusting to a redeemed country for the full recognition of their manhood in the future. He thought that in the plan of reconstruction, the votes of the blacks could not be lightly dispensed with. They were the only unqualified friends of the Union in the South. In the impressive language written on this flag, "Let Soldiers in War be Citizens in Peace," the Banks policy may plant the seed of another revolution. Our statesmen will have to take care lest they prove neither so good nor wise under the seductions of mild-eyed peace, as heretofore, amidst the tumults of grim-visaged war. Merit should also be recognised in the black soldier, and the way opened to his promotion. De Tocqueville prophesied that if ever America underwent Revolution, it would be brought about by the presence of the black race, and that it would result from the inequality of their condition. This has been verified. But there is another side to the picture; and while he thought it his duty to keep these things before the public, there are motives of interest founded on our faith in the nation's honor, to act in this strife. Freedom has rapidly advanced since the firing on Sumter; and since the Genius of Liberty has directed the war, we have gone from victory to victory. Soldiers! Accept this flag on behalf of the citizens of Philadelphia. I know too well the mettle of your pasture, that you will not dishonor it. Keep before your eyes the noble deeds of your fellows at Port Hudson, Fort Wagner, and on other historic fields. Desert them not. Accept, Colonel, this flag on behalf of the regiment, and may God bless you and them. (Christian Recorder, April 22, 1865)

In November 1864, Catto was elected to be the Corresponding Secretary of the Pennsylvania Equal Rights League. He also served as Vice President of the State Convention of Colored People held in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania in February 1865. (Liberator March 3, 1865: 35).

Catto fought fearlessly for the desegregation of Philadelphia’s trolley car system. The May 18, 1865 issue of the New York Times ran a story discussing the civil disobedience tactics employed by Catto as he fought for civil rights:

Philadelphia, Wednesday, May 17—2 P. M. Last evening a colored man got into a Pine-street passenger car, and refused all entreaties to leave the car, where his presence appeared to be not desired.

The conductor of the car, fearful of being fined for ejecting him, as was done by the Judges of one of our courts in a similar case, ran the car off the track, detached the horses, and left the colored man to occupy the car all by himself. The colored man still firmly maintains his position in the car, having spent the whole of the night there.

The conductor looks upon the part he enacted in the affair as a splendid piece of strategy.

(New York Times, May 18, 1865, p. 5)

A meeting of the Union League of Philadelphia was held in Sansom Street Hall on Thursday, June 21, 1866, to protest and denounce the forcible ejection of several black women from Philadelphia's street cars. At this meeting, Catto presented the following resolutions:

Resolved, That we earnestly and unitedly protest against the proscription which excludes us from the city cars, as an outrage against the enlightened civilization of the age.

Resolved, That we cannot discover any reason based upon good sense or common justice for the continuance of a practice which has long ceased to disgrace democratic New York, Washington, St. Louis, Harrisburg and other cities, whose pledges of fidelity to the principles of freedom and civil liberty have not been so frequent as have been those of our own city.

Resolved, That, with feelings of sorrow rather than pride, we remind our white fellow-citizens of the glaring inconsistency and palpable injustice of forcing delicate women and innocent children, by the ruthless hands of ungentlemanly and unprincipled conductors and drivers, to places on the front platform, subjecting to storm and rain, cold and heat, relatives of twelve thousand colored soldiers, whose services these very citizens gladly accepted when the nation was in her hour of trouble, and they seriously entreated, under the chances of IMPARTIAL DRAFTS, to fill the depleted ranks of the Union army.

Resolved, That while men and women of a Christian community can sit unmoved and in silence, and see women barbarously thrown from the cars, — and while our courts of justice fail to grant us redress for acts committed in violation of the chartered privileges of these railroad companies, — we shall never rest at ease, but will agitate and work, by our means and by our influence, in court and out of court, asking aid of the press, calling upon Christians to vindicate their Christianity, and the members of the law to assert the principles of the profession by granting us justice and right, until these invidious and unjust usages shall have ceased.

Resolved, That we do solemnly pledge ourselves to assist by our means any suit brought against the perpetrators of outrages such as those, the occurrence of which has convened this meeting; and we respectfully call upon our liberal-minded and friendly white fellow-citizens to cease to remain silent witnesses of the grievance of which we complain, and to demonstrate the sincerity of their professions by an interference in our behalf. (Brown 1866)

Later enlisting the help of US Senators Thaddeus Stevens and William D. Kelley, Catto was instrumental in the passage of a Pennsylvania bill that prohibited segregation on transit systems in the state. Publicity about a conductor's being fined who refused to admit Catto's fiancée to a Philadelphia streetcar helped establish the new law in practice.

Catto's crusade for equal rights was capped in March 1869, when Pennsylvania voted to ratify the 15th Amendment, which prohibited discrimination against citizens in registration and voting based on race, color or prior condition; effectively, it provided suffrage to black men. (No women then had the vote.) It was fully ratified in 1870.

Sportsman

Catto was active not just in the public arenas of education and equal rights, but also on the sporting field. Like many other young men of Philadelphia, both white and black, Catto began playing cricket while in school, as it was a British tradition. Later he took up the American sport of baseball. Following the Civil War, he helped establish Philadelphia as a major hub of what became Negro league baseball. Along with Jacob C. White, Jr. he ran the Pythian Base Ball Club of Philadelphia. The Pythians had an undefeated season in 1867.

Following the 1867 season, Catto, with support by players from the white Athletic Base Ball Club, applied for the Pythians' admission into the newly formed Pennsylvania Base Ball Association. As it became clear that they would lose any vote by the Association, they withdrew their application. In 1869 the Pythians challenged various white baseball teams in Philadelphia to games. The Olympic Ball Club accepted the challenge. The first match game between black and white baseball teams took place on September 4, 1869, ending in the Pythians' defeat, 44 to 23. (New York Times, September 5, 1869)

Street murder

On Election Day, October 10, 1871, Catto was teaching in Philadelphia. Fights broke out in the city between black and white voters, as the elections were high in tension and parties reflected racial opposition. Black voters, who were mostly Republican, faced intimidation and violence from white voters, especially ethnic Irish, who were partisans of the city's Democratic machine. Irish immigrants had entered the city in great numbers during and after the Great Famine of the 1840s; they competed with free blacks for jobs and housing. City police were called on to quell the violence. Instead, often ethnic Irish themselves, they exacerbated the problems, using their power to prevent black citizens from voting. A Lieutenant Haggerty was later arrested for having encouraged police under his command to keep African Americans from voting.

On his way to vote, Catto was intermittently harassed by whites. Police reports indicate that he had purchased a revolver for protection. At the intersection of Ninth and South streets, Catto was accosted by Frank Kelly, an ethnic Irish man, who shot him three times. Catto died of his wounds. The city inquest was not able to determine if Catto had pulled his own gun. Kelly was not convicted of assault or murder.

Catto's military funeral at Lebanon Cemetery in Passyunk, Philadelphia was well-attended. The murder of Catto, an important leader, and violence throughout the election, coupled with the resurgence of the anti-Reconstruction Democratic Party in the city, marked the beginning of a decline in black militancy in 19th-century Philadelphia. Later, after the cemetery was closed down, Catto's remains were reinterred at Eden Cemetery, in Collingdale, Pennsylvania.

O. V. Catto Memorial

On June 17, 1878 R. W. Wallace, a biographer of Catto, wrote to the Christian Recorder, questioning why no one was taking care of Catto's grave:

"Can you inform me through your paper, why there is no care taken of Prof. O. V. Catto’s grave? I have recently been down to the Cemetery and was surprised to see its condition. Thousands of people have asked me about the same thing, and, when I am compelled to say there is no sign of any stone to his grave, while both white and colored stand ready to help in the matter, it is not creditable to us. Something ought to be done in the matter. I believe almost everybody would give something toward getting a stone. I am the publisher of his life, and am prepared to speak in regard to the interest taken by all classes of people." (Wallace 1878)

Some twenty years later, the New York Times reported:

"Many Negro citizens of Philadelphia are now endeavoring to have carried into speedy execution a long-cherished wish to have erected there a monument to Prof. Octavius V. Catto, one of their race, who was killed in an election day riot in that city twenty-six years ago. He was long an instructor in the Institute for Colored Youth, and the plan is to erect a mausoleum, and that the work be done by the pupils of the school as far as possible." (New York Times, November 12, 1897, p. 6)

21st century memorial campaign

An annual remembrance ceremony was initiated in 1995.

On June 14, 2006, the Board of Trustees of the O. V. Catto Memorial announced the kickoff of a $1.5 million fundraising campaign to erect a memorial statue to Catto. The Abraham Lincoln Foundation made the first contribution of $25,000.

On October 10, 2007, the 136th anniversary of Catto's death, the Octavius V. Catto Memorial Fund erected a headstone at Catto's burial site at Eden Cemetery in Collingdale, Pennsylvania.

On July 26, 2011, to commemorate his life, the General Meade Society of Philadlephia participated in a wreath-laying ceremony at 6th and Lombard Streets in Philadelphia, PA. The first OV Catto award was presented that year.

To honor the man affectionately called the "19th century Martin Luther King", Mayor Jim Kenney announced on June 10, 2016 that a new sculpture will stand outside of Philadelphia City Hall. The 12 foot bronze statue will be the first dedicated to the accomplishments of a sole African American.

Wikipedia

#Octavius Catto

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