#Northern Ontario Ontario newspaper

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“Flatly Denies Story That He Was Badly Treated at Camp,” North Bay Nugget. November 30, 1932. Page 1 & 2. ----- Highway Worker Tells How He Was Attended at Pembroke ---- GOT BEST OF ATTENTION ---- In direct contradiction of a statement contained in a story carried by a Toronto paper dealing with the mythical trials and tribulations of a disgruntled worker at the Stonecliffe camp of the Trans-Canada highway project and in which it was alleged that one man was denied care and treatment when suffering from a serious throat aliment, Arthur Sullivan, the sufferer, alluded to voluntarily wrote the Northern Development Branch, North Bay, to explain that he couldn't have been accorded better treatment. 

In explaining his experience, Mr. Sullivan lauds those in charge of the camp and the doctor and the nurses who attended him in hospital in Pembroke. 

His letter follows: - 

"In the issue of a Toronto publication of Nov 23., there appealed an article dealing with an interview between certain Trans-Canada highway employees and a representative of the paper. 

"In the course of this interview, there was a certain ex-employee of this (Stonecliffe) camp who, not content with casting reflection on the camp in regards to medical attention provided the men, mentioned particularly the instance of non-attention to a man suffering from a sore throat.. Now, I being the man who he undoubtedly referred to would like, in due, fairness to the Department as well as the doctor and nurses at the Pembroke General Hospital who attended me during and after the operation, to place with you the true facts of my case. 

Was Operated on During the latter part of August my throat had been troubling me to a considerable extent, I decided to as a doctor and went to Pembroke. There Dr. Galligan after an examination, decided that an operation would be the only way to relieve the tonsil trouble. This operation was performed satisfactorily and every attention was given me by the Sisters in charge at the Pembroke General Hospital. 

"I returned to this camp again on Sept. 10 being fully recovered from the operation. I went to work Monday morning, Sept. 12, but apparently the throat had not fully healed as bleeding started during the night and next morning. I was very weak from loss of blood, Mr Hicklin, who arrived at the camp, that morning arranged for a conveyance back to the hospital and everything was done to make me as comfortable as possible on the return trip. 

"I remained In the hospital this second time from Sept. 13 until Sept. 24 and then the doctor pronouncing me fit and ready for work. I returned to this camp where I have been employed since then. 

Not Charged For It "A sense of appreciation for the good care and attention which I received from the Department during this illness, prompts me to forward you this statement, and in closing, I might say that no deductions for medical fees have been made from my pay since my arrival at the camp nor to the best of my knowledge, the pay of any other employe.”

[juteanworld]

October 6, 2023

Raspberries in October?

On Friday we were asked to collect tree and shrub fruits, or what was left of them. I was very surprised to still be able to find my favorite compound fruit, raspberries – for me those are exclusively associated with summer.

Not a time where trees already have colorful leaves.

But some other people even still found sweet grapes, at about 58°6' N. (Good luck trying to do that on the other side of the globe, in the conifer or needleleaf forest of Labrador or northern Ontario) And in a local newspaper I read that you can now grow sweet potatoes here as well, tubers I more associate with Mexico and Hawaii. Geez.

More appropriate for this climate and season, I also found apples (the small round red fruits are also apples, of ornamental apple trees with purple leaves) pears, chestnuts, acorns, cones, stonefruit, winged fruits of the maple tree, and more.

Spread out with Estonian names of the plant and fruit type. Will provide translations if anyone asks, unfortunately don't have the time to do it all right now.

[lynnsworkshop]

Laketober 2022 - Day 1: Future

Hello all! I have emerged from the depths to participate in Rusty Lake’s Laketober event! I hope to be more active soon; still have a couple of stories in the works. Thanks for sticking with me this long!

(More below the cut)

CW: references to a real-life disaster

● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ●

Fall 2022

Ever since I was little, I’d loved the idea of cryptids, animals that may or may not exist. Sasquatch was a favorite of mine. Nessie too, of course. I fancied myself a cryptozoologist, someone who studied such creatures.

Then one day, I caught a documentary on the local history channel about a being known as Mothman. For around a one-year period, beginning in November of 1966, residents of Point Pleasant, West Virginia reported seeing a 5-7 foot tall figure with a 10-foot wingspan. It flew shockingly fast, keeping pace with highway speeds, omitting a shrill screech and lighting its way with glowing red eyes. Its last sighting took place at Point Pleasant’s Silver Bridge about a month before the structure collapsed. Some regarded Mothman as a “specter of death”.

The supernatural implications, along with the multiple eyewitness accounts, are what hooked me. Mothman was unlike any cryptid I’d heard of before. So, when new reports started trickling in last month on my favorite cryptozoology forum, I knew I had to go digging.

It began with a person claiming to have seen Mothman outside of their home in Canada. The creature stood atop a tree “like a great shadow”, remaining still for several minutes before taking flight and disappearing behind a row of trees. The second account described a large winged figure with red eyes flying over a road in northern Ontario. However, as the reports went on, they seemed to describe something more akin to Britain’s Owlman, commenting on pointed ears, clawed feet, and even a feathery appearance.

A location was brought up more than once, somewhere called Rusty Lake. That’s when the figurative dam burst. The trickle turned into a flood as people began to recount events involving not only this supposed Mothman, but also shadow people and even a lake monster. This Rusty Lake appeared to be a cryptozoological treasure trove.

I managed to get in contact with a woman who lived in the Rusty Lake area. She was reluctant to open up about the strangeness surrounding her home at first, but I persuaded her to after promising to keep her identity a secret.

“Things like your cryptids have inhabited Rusty Lake since long before I was born,” she wrote.

I messaged her back. “What kind of things?”

“They used to be human, is what I’m told. Part man and part beast. Ghosts of them too, wandering the Lake.”

“Have you ever seen one?

“Once, the Owl. It’s never a good thing when you do. They’re an omen of death. The Vanderboom brothers tempted them and the entire family was cursed. Generation after generation was met with tragedy. They’re all dead now.”

“Have investigations ever taken place?”

“People have come looking for the Lake, yes. It draws you in. Like a siren’s song, an itch that needs to be scratched, you know? Most haven’t returned. I’d advise against joining them.”

“Ghost stories don’t scare me.”

“They should.”

Despite her warnings, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this. In the 21st Century, actual cryptid sightings like this were almost nonexistent. Google, surprisingly, didn’t yield a reliable result on Rusty Lake’s location. When I asked the woman, she stopped returning my messages. I was left having to turn to a good old-fashioned library.

My search would’ve lasted much longer if it weren’t for my amazing local librarians. They really took it upon themselves to help me crack the mystery of where in the world Rusty Lake is. I think they were just happy to have something to do.

Finally, yesterday, we uncovered a yellowed newspaper clipping from 1969: “Win a trip to Rusty Lake...”

[swradiogram]

Shortwave Radiogram, 15-21 August 2024 (program 366): Digital modes that defend potatoes

This was a week of bad news about shortwave broadcasting. The US Agency for Global Media (USAGM) has closed its relay stations at Saipan and Tinian in the Northern Mariana Islands (used mainly for Radio Free Asia) and at São Tomé (used for VOA broadcasts to Africa). USAGM has not yet announced these closures on its website, but the news was reported by the Saipan Tribune. The newspaper quoted William S. Martin, USAGM's director of operations and stations division, who notes shortwave use has fallen dramatically almost everywhere since the invention of the internet. The Saipan station dates back to KYOI, a commercial rock music station directed to Japan, 1982-1989. The Herald Broadcasting division of the Christian Science Monitor Syndicate operated the station 1989-1998. Radio Free Asia purchased the facility in 1998, and it became part of the USAGM shortwave transmitting network. Part of the Shortwave Radiogram concept is that more and more countries are finding more and more ways to block internet content. Text via shortwave can be a workaround that completely sidesteps the internet. But this becomes less possible when fewer transmitting facilities are available. A video of last week's Shortwave Radiogram (program 365) is provided by Scott in Ontario (Wednesday 1330 UTC). The audio archive is maintained by Mark in the UK. Analysis is provided by Roger in Germany. Here is the lineup for Shortwave Radiogram, program 366, 15-22 August 2024, in MFSK modes as noted:  1:39  MFSK32: Program preview  2:43  MFSK32: Defending potatoes  6:04  MFSK64: NASA to launch 8 science balloons from New Mexico 10:22  MFSK64: This week's images 28:14  MFSK32: Closing announcements Please send reception reports to radiogram@verizon.net And visit http://swradiogram.net Twitter: @SWRadiogram or https://twitter.com/swradiogram (visit during the weekend to see listeners’ results) Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/567099476753304 Shortwave Radiogram Gateway Wiki: https://wiki.radioreference.com/index.php/Shortwave_Radiogram_Gateway

Other Shortwave broadcast programs that include digital text and images include The Mighty KBC, Pop Shop Radio and Radio North Europe International (RNEI). Links to these fine broadcasts, with schedules, are posted here.

Juan EA5XQ in Spain received these images August 9 2024, 2330-2400 UTC, 9265 kHz from WINB Pennsylvania ...

[yatescountyhistorycenter]

An insider's view of the Public Universal Friend

By Jonathan Monfiletto

A person identifying himself or herself only as “A Neighbor” and writing in the National Intelligencer newspaper, from Ontario County, New York on August 24, 1819, apparently had an insider’s view of the life of the Public Universal Friend and may have been present at the Friend’s death on July 1, 1819. Published from 1800 until 1870, the National Intelligencer was the first newspaper published in Washington, D.C., covering events around the nation’s capital and capturing news across the United States of America. On August 21, 1819 – according to A Neighbor, as I have been unable to find digitized editions of the Intelligencer – the newspaper ran the Penn Yan Herald’s July 6, 1819 obituary for the Friend. And, A Neighbor wrote to the newspaper (at the time, Ontario County encompassed the northern portion of what is now Yates County) to dispute some of the facts of the Herald’s obituary as printed in the Intelligencer.

Calling the Public Universal Friend by their birth name of Jemima Wilkinson, the Herald noted the Friend died “on Thursday last” of dropsy, nowadays known as congestive heart failure, at age 66. The Herald went on to describe what purportedly took place in the Friend’s final moments: “She, a few moments previous to her death, placed herself in her chappel [sic], and called in her disciples, one by one, and gave each a solemn admonition, then raised her hands and gave up the ghost. Thus the second wonder of the western country has made her final exit.” A Neighbor, however, contradicted this version of events.

First, in his or her response, a letter titled “Of the Late Jemima Wilkinson” and addressed to Messrs. Gales & Seaton, A Neighbor noted the Friend did not die in Penn Yan but in Jerusalem, 12 miles from Penn Yan – according to A Neighbor – on the roads of the time. Using the Herald’s article, the Intelligencer may have used Penn Yan as a dateline on its article. From there, A Neighbor told a different story of the Friend’s illness and final moments: “She never had a chapel; I therefore conclude she did not exhort her disciples, one by one, in her chapel (emphasis in original) – but at her bed side, where she has for a year or more been confined most of the time by a most excruciating complaint; and where, on Saturday of each week, she collected the remnant of her followers, and exhorted them. Her complaint may have been a case of dropsy, but if so, it assumed very unusual symptoms.”

The Herald’s obituary stated, “Much curiosity has been excited since her departure. The roads leading to her mansion were for a few days after her death literally filled with crowds of people, who had been, or were going to see the Friend!” The Herald also noted the community had not yet learned whether the Friend would have a successor to lead their followers and whether the Society of Universal Friends would remain united without its head. The obituary described the Friend’s mansion – their third home in what is now Yates County, their second in the modern-day town of Jerusalem, and the only one still standing today – as “stands on a barren heath amidst the solitudes of the wilderness, at some distance from this settlement.”

A Neighbor differed on these statements as well: “Her mansion is on a hill – but not a barren heath – for the eye of man has rarely seen a more romantic and luxuriant prospect than is displayed from the Eastern front of this mansion. The roads leading to her dwelling are said to have been literally filled with crowds of people! This mighty concourse of people might possibly have amounted to 100 souls, including all her society and spectators, on the day that it was expected she would have been interred.”

A Neighbor claimed in his or her letter to have been a neighbor of the Friend for six years as well as a resident in the home of the Friend and the homes of their followers. In conversations with the Friend, A Neighbor attempted to understand their “peculiar tenets” and comprehend “a correct idea of her doctrines,” but this task was difficult because the Friend answered questions by quoting Bible verses and recounting their visions, “leaving me to draw inferences to suit myself.” A Neighbor concluded the Friend believed in millenarianism – a belief in the second coming of Jesus Christ to establish a thousand-year reign on Earth – and gathered a thousand followers into the wilderness of the New Jerusalem 25 years before. Similarly, to reports that the Friend professed to be the Messiah, A Neighbor asked questions of the Friend to discern the truth, only to receive responses of Bible verses and the Friend’s visions. Nevertheless, it seemed the Friend encouraged their followers to believe they acted upon the inspiration of Christ.

A Neighbor had first encountered the Society 18 years before; at that time, the Society was wealthy but since then had fallen out over disputes and litigation. “Many have deserted her; and a remnant only has remained with her to the last.” At one time, according to A Neighbor, the Friend had 3,000 or 4,000 followers – including men who left their wives and families and women and children who deserted their homes – settle with them in the New Jerusalem, “where it was believed all the elect were to gather together, under her protection and ministry, and the millennium to take place.”

The Intelligencer apparently responded to A Neighbor’s letter; since I haven’t been able to locate a digitized version of these Intelligencer editions, I haven’t been able to view either article published in this newspaper. A Neighbor responded to the Intelligencer’s response in the November 23, 1819 edition, noting the newspaper had responded to his or her first letter in the October 13, 1819 edition “with a critical review of my hasty communication of August last, copied from the Penn Yan Herald.” A Neighbor spent much of the second letter repeating and asserting his or her claims about the Friend that contradict the statements put forth by the Herald and the Intelligencer. This included describing the 14-square-foot room that served as the Friend’s chamber, in which they received visitors and followers during their ministry and at their death, but A Neighbor noted it was never called a chapel. Apparently challenged on the claim that the Friend had 3,000 to 4,000 followers, A Neighbor instead stated that was the total number of the Friend’s followers throughout New England and Pennsylvania, while the Society had 500 members in the New Jerusalem when A Neighbor became acquainted with it in 1795.

A Neighbor also both praised the Friend and criticized their detractors: “That a woman with hardly a common school education, in a country like the eastern and middle states, and among a people so generally well informed as the Yankees, and in the face of able ministers, should have been able to effect what she has evidently effected, is truly a wonder, and worthy of an investigation. A correct history of her life, ministry, and doctrines, could not fail to be highly interesting. Such an [sic] one I should be glad to see published by a competent hand. But the idle and malicious tales now going the rounds of our newspapers, are certainly unworthy of belief, as well as disgraceful to the presses which give them circulation.”

A Neighbor noted in the community there are “some among us who appear to believe that she was something more than human – the messenger of truth, divinely sent,” while others “paint her as a downright devil in petticoats – artful, abandoned, libidinous, and wicked.” A Neighbor believed both groups were wrong; A Neighbor believed the Friend themself was deceived and did believe themself to be inspired by Christ. “Her preaching was impressive, and calculated to produce a powerful effect on some minds. She inculcated good moral precepts, and was deeply read in Scripture, which seemed to be her ready and universal appeal on all questions addressed to her concerning religion,” A Neighbor wrote. “She was hospitable, social, and pleased to see strangers, and visitors were kindly received at her mansion, and treated with kindness, and freely discoursed with, if they demeaned themselves decently.”

A Neighbor closed this second letter by observing there were many people around New York State who had visited the Friend and been treated kindly by them and thus who knew the truth about who they were as a person versus the rumors and slander in the newspapers. A Neighbor also charged the Herald with “circulating such tales to her prejudice” and stated the newspaper should “feel a proper delicacy and forbearance on the subject.” Thus, A Neighbor provided an insider’s view of the life and times of the Public Universal Friend to the Penn Yan community and to an American audience.

[suzettefamilyhistoryhunter]

In my most recent blog update, I shared a significant photograph, hoping it might jog someone's memory regarding my siblings's whereabouts. Despite my thorough efforts, including placing classified ads in numerous local newspapers across Northern Ontario, the response has been disappointingly minimal. This lack of engagement leads me to question whether the decline in newspaper readership is a factor. Initially, I had hoped that running ads in the classifieds section would catch the attention of an older demographic, individuals who may possess invaluable insights or recollections that could potentially lead to a breakthrough. Yet, the silence persists, leaving me grappling with unanswered questions, and the mystery surrounding my father's disappearance remains unresolved.

Despite the frustration of encountering obstacles and reaching dead ends, I remain determined not to lose hope. My commitment to meticulously document and share every aspect of this journey remains unwavering. I firmly believe that someone holds the missing piece to this puzzle, a piece that could provide the closure my family and I desperately seek. Though they may harbor reservations or hesitate to step forward, I am convinced that the information they possess, no matter how seemingly insignificant, could prove to be the key in unraveling this mystery.

As I continue to navigate through uncertainty and delve deeper into this enigma, I invite you, my readers, to join me on this journey of discovery and hope. Together, let us shed light on the darkness and maintain the flame of hope, for it is through our collective perseverance that we can bring about the resolution I seek.

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 5.28

585 BC – A solar eclipse occurs, as predicted by the Greek philosopher and scientist Thales, while Alyattes is battling Cyaxares in the Battle of the Eclipse, leading to a truce. This is one of the cardinal dates from which other dates can be calculated. 621 – Battle of Hulao: Li Shimin, the son of the Chinese emperor Gaozu, defeats the numerically superior forces of Dou Jiande near the Hulao Pass (Henan). This victory decides the outcome of the civil war that followed the Sui dynasty's collapse in favour of the Tang dynasty. 1533 – The Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, declares the marriage of King Henry VIII of England to Anne Boleyn valid. 1588 – The Spanish Armada, with 130 ships and 30,000 men, sets sail from Lisbon, Portugal, heading for the English Channel. (It will take until May 30 for all ships to leave port.) 1644 – English Civil War: Bolton Massacre by Royalist troops under the command of James Stanley, 7th Earl of Derby. 1754 – French and Indian War: In the first engagement of the war, Virginia militia under the 22-year-old Lieutenant colonel George Washington defeat a French reconnaissance party in the Battle of Jumonville Glen in what is now Fayette County in southwestern Pennsylvania. 1802 – In Guadeloupe, 400 rebellious slaves, led by Louis Delgrès, blow themselves up rather than submit to Napoleon's troops. 1830 – U.S. President Andrew Jackson signs the Indian Removal Act which denies Native Americans their land rights and forcibly relocates them. 1871 – The Paris Commune falls after two months. 1892 – In San Francisco, John Muir organizes the Sierra Club. 1905 – Russo-Japanese War: The Battle of Tsushima ends with the destruction of the Russian Baltic Fleet by Admiral Tōgō Heihachirō and the Imperial Japanese Navy. 1907 – The first Isle of Man TT race is held. 1918 – The Azerbaijan Democratic Republic and the First Republic of Armenia declare their independence. 1926 – The 28 May 1926 coup d'état: Ditadura Nacional is established in Portugal to suppress the unrest of the First Republic. 1932 – In the Netherlands, construction of the Afsluitdijk is completed and the Zuiderzee bay is converted to the freshwater IJsselmeer. 1934 – Near Callander, Ontario, Canada, the Dionne quintuplets are born to Oliva and Elzire Dionne; they will be the first quintuplets to survive infancy. 1936 – Alan Turing submits On Computable Numbers for publication. 1937 – Volkswagen, the German automobile manufacturer, is founded. 1940 – World War II: Belgium surrenders to Nazi Germany to end the Battle of Belgium. 1940 – World War II: Norwegian, French, Polish and British forces recapture Narvik in Norway. This is the first Allied infantry victory of the War. 1948 – Daniel François Malan is elected as Prime Minister of South Africa. He later goes on to implement Apartheid. 1958 – Cuban Revolution: Fidel Castro's 26th of July Movement, heavily reinforced by Frank Pais Militia, overwhelm an army post in El Uvero. 1961 – Peter Benenson's article The Forgotten Prisoners is published in several internationally read newspapers. This will later be thought of as the founding of the human rights organization Amnesty International. 1964 – The Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) is founded, with Yasser Arafat elected as its first leader. 1968 – Garuda Indonesian Airways Flight 892 crashes near Nala Sopara in India, killing 30. 1974 – Northern Ireland's power-sharing Sunningdale Agreement collapses following a general strike by loyalists. 1975 – Fifteen West African countries sign the Treaty of Lagos, creating the Economic Community of West African States. 1977 – In Southgate, Kentucky, the Beverly Hills Supper Club is engulfed in fire, killing 165 people inside. 1979 – Konstantinos Karamanlis signs the full treaty of the accession of Greece with the European Economic Community. 1987 – An 18-year-old West German pilot, Mathias Rust, evades Soviet Union air defences and lands a private plane in Red Square in Moscow, Russia. 1991 – The capital city of Addis Ababa falls to the Ethiopian People's Revolutionary Democratic Front, ending both the Derg regime in Ethiopia and the Ethiopian Civil War. 1995 – The 7.0 Mw  Neftegorsk earthquake shakes the former Russian settlement of Neftegorsk with a maximum Mercalli intensity of IX (Violent). Total damage was $64.1–300 million, with 1,989 deaths and 750 injured. The settlement was not rebuilt. 1996 – U.S. President Bill Clinton's former business partners in the Whitewater land deal, Jim McDougal and Susan McDougal, and the Governor of Arkansas, Jim Guy Tucker, are convicted of fraud. 1998 – Nuclear testing: Pakistan responds to a series of nuclear tests by India with five of its own codenamed Chagai-I, prompting the United States, Japan, and other nations to impose economic sanctions. Pakistan celebrates Youm-e-Takbir annually. 1999 – In Milan, Italy, after 22 years of restoration work, Leonardo da Vinci's masterpiece The Last Supper is put back on display. 2002 – The last steel girder is removed from the original World Trade Center site. Cleanup duties officially end with closing ceremonies at Ground Zero in Manhattan, New York City. 2003 – Peter Hollingworth resigns as Governor-General of Australia following criticism of his handling of child sexual abuse allegations during his tenure as Anglican Archbishop of Brisbane. 2004 – The Iraqi Governing Council chooses Ayad Allawi, a longtime anti-Saddam Hussein exile, as prime minister of Iraq's interim government. 2008 – The first meeting of the Constituent Assembly of Nepal formally declares Nepal a republic, ending the 240-year reign of the Shah dynasty. 2010 – In West Bengal, India, the Jnaneswari Express train derailment and subsequent collision kills 148 passengers. 2011 – Malta votes on the introduction of divorce; the proposal was approved by 53% of voters, resulting in a law allowing divorce under certain conditions being enacted later in the year. 2016 – Harambe, a gorilla, is shot to death after grabbing a three-year-old boy in his enclosure at the Cincinnati Zoo and Botanical Garden, resulting in widespread criticism and sparking various internet memes. 2017 – Former Formula One driver Takuma Sato wins his first Indianapolis 500, the first Japanese and Asian driver to do so. Double world champion Fernando Alonso retires from an engine issue in his first entry of the event.

[internationalnewz]

Indians among eight migrants found dead near US-Canada border

Police say the deceased, believed to be two families of Indian and Romanian descent, were trying to cross into the United States from Canada.

TORONTO: Police in Canada have said they recovered the bodies of two more migrants who drowned in the St Lawrence River while attempting to enter the US from Canada illegally, taking the death toll to eight, including members of an Indian family.

The bodies were found on Friday in a marsh on the riverbank near Akwesasne, a community that straddles Quebec, Ontario and New York state.

One other person is still missing.

Police say the deceased, believed to be two families of Indian and Romanian descent, were trying to cross into the United States from Canada. Among them were two children under the age of three, both Canadian citizens.

"Unfortunately, these situations happen. It's not something new," Akwesasne Mohawk Police chief Shawn Dulude said of people trying to cross.

"We've seen it happen in the past, and hopefully as we move forward, it's something we can one day eliminate," the officer was quoted as saying by the Montreal Gazette newspaper.

Akwesasne police are working with Immigration Canada to assist with identifying the victims and notifying the next of kin.

They are also increasing surveillance on the river, it said.

Authorities located the first body in the marsh around 5 p.m. on Thursday during an aerial search conducted at the request of the Canadian Coast Guard.

Throughout the day on Friday, search crews could be seen wading through a marshy area near the local marina with the help of a light airboat. A helicopter also scanned the river. The last two bodies, of a second infant and another woman, were retrieved from the water during the day.

Police recovered two more bodies from the river on Friday, after discovering six bodies and an overturned boat during a missing person search Thursday afternoon, CBC News reported.

They are believed to have been an Indian family and a Romanian family who were attempting to cross into the US, police said, adding, that an Akwesasne resident remains missing.

According to police, there has seen an uptick in human smuggling into the U.S.

Ryan Brissette, a public affairs officer with U.S. Customs and Border Patrol, says the agency had seen a "massive uptick in encounters and apprehensions" at the border.

The agency saw more than eight times as many people try to cross from Canada into the U.S. in 2022 compared to previous years, he said.

Many of them — more than 64,000 — came through Quebec or Ontario into New York.

"Comparing this area in the past, this is a significant number," Brissette said.

"There's a lot of different reasons as to why this is happening, why folks are coming all of a sudden through the northern border. I think a lot of them think it's easier, an easy opportunity and they just don't know the danger that it poses, especially in the winter months," the officer said.

Akwesasne police say there have been 48 incidents of people trying to cross illegally into Canada or into the United States through the Mohawk territory since January, and most of them have been of Indian or Romanian descent.

In January 2022, the bodies of four Indians, including a baby, were found frozen in Manitoba near the Canada-US border.

In April 2022, six Indian nationals were rescued from a sinking boat in the St.Regis River, which runs through Akwesasne Mohawk Territory.

In April 2022, six Indian nationals were rescued from a sinking boat in the St Regis River, which runs through Akwesasne Mohawk Territory.

[college-girl199328]

Alberta has launched another campaign to attract people, but this time it’s focusing on Canadians in other regions of the nation. The "Alberta is Calling" campaign aims to draw attention to the province’s affordability, lifestyle, and range of employment opportunities. It debuted last summer, targeting Canadians living in Toronto and Vancouver through newspapers and billboards.

The renewed campaign will now focus on the Maritimes and regions of Ontario, including London, Hamilton, Windsor, and Sudbury. The campaign highlights Alberta’s economic advantages, including the booming technology and innovation sector, as well as offering the highest weekly earnings and lowest taxes in Canada," a release from the province said.

Alberta saw the highest employment growth in Canada last year and has the highest weekly earnings of any province, at $1,268. According to the province, high-demand job sectors in the province include skilled trades, health care, food service, hospitality, accounting, engineering, and technology.

"As Alberta continues to create jobs, attract investment, and diversify its economy, we are once again putting out a call for skilled workers to join our great province and appreciate the quality of life that Alberta has to offer," said Brian Jean, minister of jobs, economy, and northern development, to Statistics Canada, Alberta saw the highest net interprovincial migration in Canada, at 19,285 people, in the third quarter of 2022.

"In addition, the campaign again promotes lifestyle attractions, including Calgary, North America’s most liveable city, and access to world-famous mountains and parks for year-round hiking, skiing, biking, and more than 300 days of sunshine per year," the release said. In Ontario, the campaign will be seen in Hamilton, London, Windsor, Sudbury, and Sault Ste. Marie, as well as North Bay, Chatham, Timmins, and Cornwall. Maritime cities to be targeted include St. John’s, Charlottetown, Moncton, Saint John, and Halifax.

[lezliefaithwade]

A Breath of Fresh Air

The summer after my first year of theatre school, I was sleeping on the living room floor of my cousin's apartment in Toronto, trying to figure out what to do with my life. My cousin had been an actor before he became a quadriplegic in a car accident, and as I unadvisedly bemoaned my unemployment status, he said something like, "Seriously? You're complaining about your life? Don't make me burst a colostomy bag." He was right, of course. I wasn't in a wheelchair, though I did have a stepmother who had rendered me homeless because of her dislike for me. She was always saying things like, "Your hair can't be as ugly as that hat you're wearing." Or simply refusing to invite me to things like Christmas dinner. I always admired people with families. My boyfriend at the time was one of five kids who were always doing things together. Their house was always full of noise and activities. Even as a shiksa, I felt more at home there than with my stepbrothers and sisters, who never lost an opportunity to point out that I was weird. I wanted to stand up to them, but not wanting to cause my father any grief, I held my tongue and sought refuge elsewhere. It occurred to me that perhaps I was using the theatre as an opportunity to say things through characters that I couldn't find the courage to express myself.

The Toronto Star was still open on the kitchen table, and I rummage through the Want Ads, that dirty part of the newspaper near the back where complete strangers will soon become complete assholes in your life by forcing you to work menial jobs in humiliating uniforms for minimum wage.

"Find anything?" my cousin called from the bedroom, where two attendants helped wash and dress him.

"Social services are advertising for camp councilors to work with emotionally challenged kids."

"Oh yeah," He said. "That might suit you."

I'm not sure I knew what he meant but, I was beginning to think I'd outgrown my welcome. My cousin probably would have encouraged me to join the circus if the option had been available. Knowing my living room days were numbered, I thought it best to make an effort and apply.

I had no experience teaching drama—no experience working with kids and no experience going to or working at a camp. Despite all that, I was hired. It's worth noting that it's probably not a good sign if you get a job with no qualifications whatsoever.

My official position was Drama Councillor, and I prided myself that with only a year and half of theatre training behind me, I was well equipped to help others benefit from the wealth of my experience. I imagined myself, Maria Von Trapp, teaching children how to sing while they looked at me adoringly. Somehow, I conveniently blocked out the rebellious early stages she experienced and skipped straight to the good parts. Also, I might add, forgetting about the Nazis and having to climb over a mountain. Still, visions of me biking around camp with a group of happy campers behind me filled me with a sense of self-satisfaction.

As I packed my knapsack with deet and a secret stash of Twinkies, I thought of how only three weeks earlier I'd been in New York walking through Central Park and savoring Cappuccinos at outdoor cafés on Columbus. Now, here I was, ready for something different. The wilderness, I imagined, would be a welcome change—fresh air and loons instead of smog and sirens. I thought smugly about my classmates sweating behind visors at take-out windows shoveling fries into cardboard cups or wrapping sandwiches in tinfoil. Thumbs up to adventure, I told myself. The fact that I'd never once in my life enjoyed the great outdoors didn't factor into my mind. All of this changed with each accumulated minute of the 391 Kilometer drive north.

It was late afternoon when I arrived at the compound. Overcast, sullen, it was a place so secluded you'd need flares to find it. It had that distinct aura of someplace time forgot. A place left behind and neglected. In the brochure, the sun was shining, flowers filled the meadow, and you could practically hear laughter floating off the page. What I was looking at bore more of a resemblance to a situation in a Stephen King novel where camp councilors discover a pack of hungry teenage zombies have lured them to a seemingly idyllic retreat. Situated right in the heart of black fly country, I spent most of my days swatting insects so big they seem Jurassic.

During our orientation, child care workers warned us that children with mental health needs tend to run away - a lot and to keep strict attendance records and all eyes on them at all times. "These kids are resourceful and clever," they cautioned. I couldn't imagine being so determined you'd risk your life by escaping through the woods that surrounded us, but then again, I'd never been around children who weren't allowed cutlery before either

I shared my cabin with three other women with who I had absolutely nothing in common. Delia, a humorless 27-year-old cooking instructor who answered every question with a monosyllabic grunt, Jennifer, a 26-year old tennis instructor with massive blond ringlets who talked so quickly she sounded like a record on high speed, and an older aboriginal woman named Sunny who made us all dream catchers and offered advice about how to heal ourselves on days when we'd feel spent. "Remember, these kids need us," she said while purifying our cabin with sage. As I glanced around my assigned bunk, taking in the spider webs and loose floorboards, I had that sinking feeling that comes when you know you've made a terrible mistake. Before long, I was eating copious amounts of peanut butter on stale bagels amid a never-ending supply of starch. I'm not sure who thought it was a good idea to feed children with challenges like anxiety, depression, hyperactivity, and eating disorders copious amounts of sugar and carbs. It certainly did nothing to help them or me.

On the first day of class, I sat everyone in a circle. "Welcome to drama class," I said with a smile. "Let's begin by sharing with everyone a little bit about ourselves. Anything at all you'd like us to know?" A hand went up.

"I'm Tracy, and I hate my stupid ass brother. He can go straight to hell."

"Okay," I said, "That's a start. Who's next?"

Another hand. "I'm Jonathan, and this place sucks so much I wish it would burn to the ground!"

"Fair enough. Anyone else?"

"I'm Jo. I'm schizophrenic. So sometimes I'm Rachel and Julia. You'll know the difference because Rachel has a British dialect, and Julia talks slang."

"O-kay." I glanced at the social workers who sat on the edge of the room and looked at me with an expression that basically said, "We can't wait to see what you do next."

"Let's write a play," I suggested. "Write anything you want. Once you're happy with the work, I'll shape it into a cohesive piece that we'll rehearse and then present at the end of the season talent showcase."

The kids liked this idea. The showcase was a big deal. It was an opportunity for them to blow off some steam and express themselves to friends and family in a creative way. My only stipulation was not to use profanity. As the weeks passed, I was impressed with how well they all threw themselves into this project—all except Eric, the oldest boy in my 12 to 15-year-olds. Eric often wandered around the rehearsal space, unfocused and sullen.

"Any ideas for your piece?" I ask, checking in to see if I could help.

"I'm thinking," he'd say and then pace.

With three weeks left in the summer, I took my well-deserved week off to decompress. My boyfriend came up from Toronto and drove me to his parent's house at Post and Bayview, where caterers were preparing the tennis courts for an outdoor party. I walked into his mother's living room, and she gasped. "What happened to you?"

I didn't blame her. I hadn't spent much time looking at a mirror the past four weeks, but one glance at the large one in their bathroom told the full story. My hair was ratty; I had scabs on my knees, bruises on my arms and legs, and I was sunburnt. I was wearing a vintage skirt and blouse that was probably more Value Village than vintage and a pair of worn, scuffed purple moccasins; in essence, I was wearing slippers on my feet.

"Please take her to the mall and at least buy her a pair of shoes," his mother said, handing me her credit card and then rushing off to make sure the stuffed alligator would float in the pool. That week I ate my way through rugelach, hamantaschen, brisket, and bagels while his family watched me with awe and disgust.

Back at camp, the smell of burning insect repellent greeted me along with the news that the sailing and tennis instructors were sacked for disorderly conduct. Never mind, I had renewed energy and a sense of purpose. There were costumes and props to make. Sound and lighting effects to create. And we needed to rehearse. It was only a tiny stage somewhere on a remote camp in Northern Ontario, but the excitement was palpable. I was excited. This would be the best talent show ever, and my kids were going to blow the socks off everyone there!!!

"Eric," I said, "How's your piece coming along?"

"I finished it," he mentioned casually

"That's great. Can I see it?"

"I want to surprise you. You're going to love it, though. I promise."

I patted myself on the back. Eric had a breakthrough. All my encouragement and patience had paid off. Perhaps I'd helped him have a developmental breakthrough.

"Can you tell me what it's about?" I asked.

"The Beatles."

"Great. Okay," and left it at that.

Talent Night arrived along with parents and family friends. The lights dimmed, the kids performed, and the audience enthusiastically applauded as each "Mighty Mite" or "Spirit of Paradise" breezed across the stage, acting out skits about fairies and monsters and assorted escapades. Finally, it was Eric's turn. Out he came, looking serious and theatrical. He cleared his throat and addressed the audience.

"This is called, The Beatles Last Recording Session. By, Me."

Three of his closest camp friends filed out and took a space on the stage. The audience was silent.

There was a dramatic pause, then the piece began.

"Fuck you, Ringo,"

"Fuck you, Paul."

"Fuck you, George."

"Well fuck you, John."

Then they bowed and left the stage.

Personally, I thought it was kind of brilliant. Needless to say, I wasn't showered with accolades about my teaching methods or the effect I had on kids. I left there having no catharsis about mental health except that giving people the opportunity to express themselves without censor is probably a lot healthier than insisting they stay quiet. I admired the honesty displayed in the kid's work. If only, I thought to myself, I could be half as brave. Wasn't that what I was spending time and money learning how to do?

A week after being home, I found myself packing, once more, for school in New York. Our term letters had arrived with instructions on where to buy character shoes, leotards, copies of The Children's Hour, and Death of a Salesman. The camp already felt like it was 391 kilometers away - soon to be 659. My father drove me to the train station with my stepmother beside him; she was there, no doubt, to ensure I boarded.

"You going to be okay?" my father asked, giving me a hug and slipping a $50 bill into my pocket.

"She'll be fine." Elsie chimed in. "You don't have to worry about her. Let's go."

But I wanted my father to worry about me. Not all the time and to the exclusion of all else, but certainly the appropriate fatherly amount.

As I settled myself on the train, I watched my stepmother pull from father from the platform to the car and thought of Eric's brilliant play. Under my breath, I whispered the immortal words of the Beatles, "Fuck you."

#stepmother #mental health #children #young people #summer camp

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"The SDPC [Social Democractic Party of Canada] at the Lakehead appears not to have been content merely to contest elections. In 1912, having recently formed a union, the mostly immigrant workers of the Canadian Northern Coal and Ore Dock Company went on strike for better wages, hours, and working conditions. Bloodshed resulted when company officials, using local police and the militia, tried to suppress the striking coal handlers. The chief of police, two constables, and two Italian strikers were wounded. Fearing a general strike, the CNR quickly acquiesced to the demands of the coal handlers.

There was much in this incident that recalled earlier labour strife at the Lakehead. A new element, however, was the growing influence of radical socialists, who were thought to have sway over the coal handlers and to have been instrumental in their inclusion in the trade union movement. Prominent among the activists were “members of the Social Democratic Party of Canada,” including the party’s organizers for Port Arthur and Fort William, the Cobalt miners’ union leader James P. McGuire and the Reverend William Madison Hicks, as well as Herbert Barker, a volunteer organizer for the AFL. In April 1912, the three men led a number of English-speaking socialists in Fort William in establishing Ontario Local 51 of the SDPC. Initial members also included W.J. Carter; an architect named Richard Lockhead; Sid Wilson, a member of the British-based Amalgamated Carpenters; and Fred Moore, owner of the printing press that printed Urry’s The Wage Earner. Significantly, most of the members appear to have been Finnish or Ukrainian. Before the strike, members of the Fort William SDPC had spoken at meetings of the coal handlers and, in the case of Hicks, played an active role by leading a parade of workers in confronting Port Arthur mayor S.W. Ray on his way to read the Riot Act to the strikers. The meeting between the two men and the violence that ensued were coincidental, according to Morrison, as

the Social Democratic party posed no real or imagined menace to the citizens of Port Arthur … what alarmed the English-speaking community was the newly won influence of the socialists with the immigrant workers.

Supporters of the ILP [Independent Labour Party] of New Ontario such as Urry found themselves “at odds with radical socialism” as

not only had the socialists played a prominent part in the strike, though not the riot, but they were also attempting to organize Thunder Bay’s entire waterfront.

...

Calls for Hicks’s arrest began to appear in newspapers in both cities and the surrounding countryside. On 1 August 1912, officials arrested him for his role in a “tumultuous assembly … likely to promote a breach of the public peace.” Shortly after Hicks’s arrest and conviction (although he received a suspended sentence), SDPC organizers began an active campaign to take control, or at the very least undermine, the ILP-led Trades and Labour Councils. Following the strike, they sought to stage a general strike on the waterfront and, ideally, spread it throughout both Port Arthur and Fort William. As Jean Morrison writes, however, this was “a move disparaged by the British labour men for its disregard of the law which required negotiations and conciliation preceding strikes by transportation workers.” The attempt failed and widened the rift formed during the municipal, provincial, and federal elections of 1908 and 1911 and the labour unrest earlier in 1912.

...

The SDPC was also not left untouched. In preparation for the 1913 Fort William civic election, Urry and Hicks jointly developed in opposition to the SDPC a manifesto describing the class struggle in general and the issues facing the region’s workers in particular .... On the recommendation of the Elk Lake, Porcupine, and Cobalt locals that Hicks be expelled, the matter was referred to the Fort William membership. Despite facing the possibility that its charter would be revoked, Local 51 refused to expel Hicks and launched a vigorous defence on his behalf. The convincing agitator had a coterie of true believers, who “defended him to the last ditch refusing to believe that Hicks would do anything wrong.” He also had his critics, evidently including the 400-strong Fort William branch, which, it appears, sided with the Dominion Executive and expelled Hicks.

...

With Hicks departed one highly personalized version of a response to the ambiguous legacy of Lakehead socialism. Both the ILP and the SDPC grew rapidly during 1913. The labour councils in the twin cities began to discuss unity, in the form of construction of a joint Central Labour Temple. The Finnish branch of the SDPC in Port Arthur also called out for working-class and socialist unity. Moreover, as a more tangible indication of potential unification of the socialist and labour movements, SDPC organizer Herbert Barker was elected president of the Port Arthur Trades and Labour Council in April 1913. As so often proved to be the case, however, such incipient unity was challenged by the region’s sheer class volatility. The strike by street railway workers in May 1913 was a volcanic moment. As David Bercuson writes:

The walk-out provided a focal point for much of the hatred and bitterness that had developed between labour and its enemies in the twin cities for several years.

Rioting and violence were sparked by the CPR’s attempts to use strikebreakers. When strikers overturned a streetcar operated by strikebreakers, police arrested one of the participants and, when a crowd tried to get him out of jail, fired into the crowd, killing a bystander. Local newspapers tried to pin the violence on the socialists, who were allegedly responsible for agitating the crowd. The railway workers belonged to the Trades and Labour Councils in both cities and, in a show of solidarity, both councils called for a general sympathy strike. These calls went unheeded and most workers returned to work after four days of protest. In response, Urry, James Booker, McGuire, Bryan, and many members of the SDPC met at the Finnish Labour Temple. They criticized the local trades and labour councils “for not being radical enough to resist the ruling of an unscrupulous upper class.” They hoped the councils would become “more radical.” Not surprisingly, the obviously inflamed right-wing media in the twin cities characterized the meeting as one of “sedition, anarchy, socialism, violence and most everything else calculated to worry orderly society and responsible government.” It was not a critique of the Lakehead workers reserved for the mainstream press. Mayor John Oliver of Port Arthur summed up the situation well when he argued that the continued unrest in Port Arthur and Fort William was not wholly due to working conditions. Making specific mention of the strikes of 1909, 1912, and 1913, he suggested that the unrest had been the result of socialist agitators. Oliver wrote:

There is hardly a night in the week that inflammatory speeches have not been made by several agitators … something will have to be done to either remove them or check their actions.

Interestingly, Frederick Urry and J.P. McGuire were specifically named for their alleged advocacy of a general strike. McGuire was further singled out for his reputed suggestion that it would be an easy thing to cut telephone, telegraph, and electric lines."

- Michel S. Beaulieu, Labour at the Lakehead: Ethnicity, Socialism, and Politics, 1900-35. Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2011. p. 37-38, 40-42

[fatehbaz]

In 1860, the population had probably exceeded one billion birds. Four decades later, it was zero or close to it. [...] Bored soldiers in a fort on the northern shore of Lake Ontario fired a cannon loaded with grape shot into passing flocks with devastating results. Others burned sulfur pots in colonies to asphyxiate nesting birds. (“Women can take part with pleasure,” said one observer, “since there is neither fatigue nor danger of being wounded.” Falling pigeon carcasses were another matter.) In addition, Passenger Pigeons were poisoned, rendered intoxicated by grain soaked in liquor, skewered by flying arrows, incinerated, batted out of the air with long poles, and lured to glue-laden platforms where the birds remained stuck until the hunters retrieved them. Farmers in Ontario hurled potatoes at low-flying birds and occasionally brought some down. [...]

Nesting and roosting sites also frequently held tremendously large numbers of pigeons. Although the birds ate a variety of insects and more than 40 genera of plants, they overwhelmingly preferred the highly nutritious nuts of oaks and beech during the nesting season, and the presence of such foods generally determined where they congregated to nest from year to year. (Smaller numbers bred in places where these trees did not occur.)

The largest nesting on record occurred in central Wisconsin in 1871 and encompassed 850 square miles. A careful estimate based on newspaper accounts placed the number of adults involved at 136,000,000 birds. Seven years later, another huge nesting, near Petoskey in northern Michigan, spanned almost 200 square miles. A roost in Tennessee hosted so many birds that the pigeons’ shrieks could be heard from six miles away.

It was in such massive groupings that the birds were slaughtered most effectively. This part of the Passenger Pigeon story is also unique: Human beings wiped out a billion or more birds in a matter of decades. [...]

The destruction of the Passenger Pigeon tracks the economic development of the country. In the beginning, the birds were hunted for personal use or for sale in local markets. Then regional markets formed as railroads and telegraph lines expanded beginning in the 1840s. In 1851, for example, four different east coast firms exploited a large nesting area near Plattsburgh, on Lake Champlain in northern New York. Their efforts alone, apart from the freelancers and locals, resulted in the taking of “one hundred and fifty thousand dozen birds.” (The italics appeared in the original newspaper article.) [...]

[C]ity dwellers from the Atlantic coast to the Mississippi River could witness their remarkable peregrinations. During his stay in the United States during the 1720s, the English naturalist Mark Catesby reported that residents of Philadelphia and New York City shot the birds from their homes. During the same time, in Montréal, the pigeons brought so many gunners into the streets that a safety hazard was declared, and shooting the birds within city limits was outlawed. And a century later, a minister in Chicago complained that the gunfire that erupted with the appearance of the pigeons prevented him from concentrating on his sermons. [...]

So many birds were killed that the carcasses were sold by the barrel. Each contained between 300 and 400 birds. The 12 years between 1870 and 1882 saw the last of the big nestings, which occurred in Minnesota, Ontario, Pennsylvania, New York, Wisconsin, Michigan, and Oklahoma (1881). Pros and amateurs drawn to the nestings turned the wooded sites into places of carnage. As exploitation intensified and the population declined, pigeons abandoned nests more quickly when disturbed. [...]

Source: Joel Green/berf and El!sabeth Condon.

[feralseraph]

“Sherry Pethers had always been an outdoorswoman, traveling as a child to northern Ontario, Canada, with her father and brother on wilderness fishing trips. Susan McCann grew up fishing with her family at her grandparents’ place on the Tippecanoe River in Indiana. With demanding jobs, geographical barriers (e.g. Susan living in the suburbs) and a scene that focused on specific bars in specific neighborhoods, it was difficult for them to find a like-minded community. After meeting at a lesbian book club at the Gerber/Hart Library, Sherry and Susan found they had a love for the outdoors in common and decided to launch a lesbian fishing club in Chicago. They took out an ad in the two gay newspapers, Outlines and Windy City Times:

“Fishing Club for lesbians now forming. Experienced anglers, beginners welcome. Especially looking for women who understand ‘A River Runs Through It.’ Planning outings around Chicago & trips to Wisc., Ky., Tenn. & Mich., in search of everything from Bluegills to Northern Pike.”

The ad received quite a response, and GALS, the Great Angling Lesbian Society, was born.”

[read more]

[swradiogram]

Shortwave Radiogram, 13-19 June 2024 (program 358): Digital modes that are not phony

Heat has overtaken much of North America. Here in northern Virginia, the outside temperature reached 90F/32C, which was our cue finally to turn on the air conditioner -- more for the humidity than for the actual temperature. Fortunately, a faulty condensate pump -- it carries all that humidity from the AC to a drain pipe -- was replaced just in time for the present heat wave. As for Shortwave Radiogram, I don't think the heat will have much effect on shortwave reception, unless maybe receiver and antenna components fail because of excessive temperatures. A video of last week's Shortwave Radiogram (program 357) is provided by Scott in Ontario (Wednesday 1330 UTC). The audio archive is maintained by Mark in the UK. Analysis is provided by Roger in Germany. Here is the lineup for Shortwave Radiogram, program 358, 13-19 June 2024, in MFSK modes as noted:  1:46  MFSK32: Program preview  2:52  MFSK32: More phony than real US newspaper sites  7:38  MFSK64: Low-income New Yorkers rely on cell for internet 11:33  MFSK64: This week's images 27:54  MFSK32: Closing announcements Please send reception reports to radiogram@verizon.net And visit http://swradiogram.net Twitter: @SWRadiogram or https://twitter.com/swradiogram (visit during the weekend to see listeners’ results) Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/567099476753304 Shortwave Radiogram Gateway Wiki: https://wiki.radioreference.com/index.php/Shortwave_Radiogram_Gateway

Other Shortwave broadcast programs that include digital text and images include The Mighty KBC, Pop Shop Radio and Radio North Europe International (RNEI). Links to these fine broadcasts, with schedules, are posted here.

kiros_s0 in Italy received these images 8 June 2024, 0230-0300 UTC, 9265 kHz from WINB Pennsylvania ...

[curationstationdc]

Woodcuts in suburbia: melancholy, nostalgia, and resistance

Selbstbildness von vorn, Käthe Kollwitz © 2019 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn

I associate woodcuts with a particular aesthetic: they loom from their perch on the bookshelf in the den, next to a collection of Hans Christian Andersen tales, whose worn buckram binding is effusing that sapid antique book aroma which pairs so well with coffee and cake. In the corner of the room, above a worn black leather chair designated for tv-watching and reading, a pathos dangles from its pot, fed by gentle streams of light emanating from the canopy of shade sheltering the backyard garden. On weekends and special occasions, the clinking of cake forks against china is punctuated only by an occasional “delicious!” — direct and accurate. This orchestration produces a distinctly Germanic affect, and one that I associate with the elderly; the particular family room I’m recalling belonged to my next-door neighbors growing up, former members of the Danish anti-Nazi resistance who had emigrated in the early 1960s. While I can’t be sure there was any deeper meaning behind their affinity for the humble woodcut, I do recall the medium’s prominence in their home. For me, something as benign as a flock of geese is represented with a degree of melancholy in these prints' impenetrable black shadows — an inevitability in this generation’s Weltanschauung, that everything beautiful carries with it a degree of pain, a nostalgia for the idea of a more civil world.

These beloved octogenarians were my first choice of role models, and I insisted on seeing them almost every day for the first 8 or 9 years of my life. They were old-school Democrats (or at least, that’s how their values system translated into American) in a largely Republican suburb of a mid-sized Upper Midwestern city. I can still place myself their 1950′s minimal traditional home: running my hands along their walnut furniture with polished nickel handles, greeted by a different antique clock in every room, tick-tocking at various registers, my slippered feet shuffling along a dull, greenish-blue carpet so typical of that era. Nothing in that home was remotely as paired down as today’s sanitized mid-century throwback, and the old neighborhood still retained a smidgen of character unlike contemporary expressions of manifest destiny. Lovingly tended beds of roses, pansies, and bleeding hearts flourished under the shade of maples, walnuts, and red oak. 

A young family admires their new home. Between 1950 and 1970, America’s suburban population nearly doubled to 74 million Camerique Archive / Archive Photos / Getty Images

For my neighbors, woodcuts seemed to be a culturally relevant way of displaying eerie alternative landscapes: a flock of geese, a school of fish, a sunset laden with a certain degree of subconsciously expressed Weltschmerz. For me, these woodcuts were inextricably linked to their stories of brazen defiance in the face of terror, which they seldom shared, always with a degree of pain and even embarrassment. Their democratic ideals to which they so proudly clung were the real source of their identity; it was from them that I learned it was OK to be gay, that everyone deserved a home and access to healthcare, that one lives like a society like a neighbor rather than just an individual. But it wasn’t until years after their deaths that I detected any degree of paradox in their suburban American existence, was able to chuckle at their nostalgia for the old country as expressed in their grocery cart (tubs of frozen Coolwhip to be served generously with home-baked apple cake, slices of summer sausage or cucumbers served on squares of cocktail rye, a far cry from the bakeries and delicatessens of northern Europe.) 

A woman and a boy visiting a man in hospital. Woodcut by Käthe Kollwitz, 1929. Credit: Wellcome Collection. CC BY

While I may associate woodcuts with the interior design choices of an immigrant family in the middle of the last century, its origins predate my concept of history. Woodcutting is thought to be the earliest print technique, originating in 9th-century China, arriving in Europe sometime in the 14th century. Woodcut has been a staple medium for prominent Northern European artists like Dürer since the 16th century. To produce a print, artists carve their image into a block of wood, along the grain, removing the parts that will not carry ink. The surface is then rolled over with a brayer and the image transferred to a sheet of paper through a press. The result in works like Käthe Kollwitz’s Selbstbildness von vorn (1922-1923), pictured above, is nothing short of haunting — well-suited to the violently introspective tone of German Expressionism. If you’re curious about the process, here’s a short demonstration:

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Phil Sanders, Director of the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop, demonstrates the pressure + ink relief process

Woodcutting became a popular tool of activists in the 1910′s, when thinkers like Ernst Barlach were beginning to use reductionist, anti-naturalist figures to express their dejection at the rise of an alien world. In the case of Barlach, his art was often placed alongside politically charged writing in order to provoke emotional reactions to the realities of uprootedness, inequality, and disaffection in industrialized, urban Europe. It is Barlach’s rather proletariat answer to the questions of modernity, inspired in part by a kind of political realism emerging in Russia, that inspired German artist Käthe Kollwitz to take up the humble woodcut. 

Ernst Barlach, from an East German stamp, 1970. Would he have been pleased with his legacy?

I remember receiving a story on the couch in my neighbors’ den — I was about 10 or 11 — regarding the final days of the war: a fellow member of the resistance had suggested replacing the Dannebrog with the flag of the Danish Communist Party, the DKP, an idea that had shaken my neighbor to his core. For him, resistance had been an act of preservation, a defense of the right to be distinctly Danish, and all that it entailed, in an increasingly international world. How the inability to return to a Denmark before the crimes of Nazism must have felt, I can only attempt to imagine. To this day, I am astounded by my neighbors’ apparent lack of burnout in light of what they sacrificed, their resilience in living out their ideals and inherited melancholia with me under an umbrella on the patio. It seemed that, for them, past and present far outweighed considerations for the future.

My copy of Korsbæk Tidende (Korsbæk Official Journal), an educational accompaniment to the popular Danish 1970′s and 1980′s tv-series “Matador” about a fictionalized Danish town between 1929 and 1947. I inherited this collection of real newspaper clips that informed events on the show from my neighbor — I assume he loved the show.

To an extent, I have inherited their idealism, an obsession with a bleak past used to check the present, an index of unwavering values to be accessed at any time. It is only through a sense of history that I’m able to make sense of the communicative power of images today, how calculated distortions of reality made ubiquitous through mass production can make us more empathetic, braver in the face of a not-so-distant future. It's a future that cannot be understood with the tools we have been given, that will almost upend our perceptions and unsettle us, a future that demands our bravery. More than ever my beloved neighbors ever could have fathomed, the possibility that our sacrifices will be bastardized in the name of another cause is unparalleled in the digital age. And even more than they experienced, we have the incredible opportunity, and challenge, to transplant our ideologies across ecosystems, upending heir original contexts.

Simultaneous calls for universalism and individual freedom, the appeals of difference and homogeneity, the cogent argument of moral relativism against the call for a shared global narrative will, no doubt, continue to shake us in an era of unprecedented displacement and global climate change. Among other things, these challenges call for an art that, like the pervasive woodcut, infiltrates our purviews, and is attuned to the affect of contemporary life. It should carry with is a melancholic nostalgia, demand our empathy, blemish our idealized beauty.

If I limit myself to woodcuts, I'm reminded of the works of William Kentridge, Beatriz Milhazes, Leonard Baskin, Alison Saar, Irving Amen, Tony Bevan, Katsutoshi Yuasa, Assadour Bezdikian, Elizabeth Catlett, Lou Barlow, Leon Gilmour — I'm sure I'm missing countless others.

Retrospective Exhibitions on Käthe Kollwitz

Käthe Kollwitz, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C., 1992; Käthe Kollwitz: In Celebration of the 125th Anniversary of the Artist’s Birth, Galerie St. Etienne, New York City, 1992; Berner Kunstmuseum, Bern, Switzerland, 1946; Retrospective in honor of her 50th birthday at Paul Cassirer galleries, Berlin, 1917

Selected Bibliographies on Käthe Kollwitz

Knesebeck, Alexandra von dem. Käthe Kollwitz: Werkverzeichnis der Graphik. Band I & II. Bern: Kornfeld, 2002.

Prelinger, Elizabeth, ed. Käthe Kollwitz. Exh. cat. Washington, DC: National Gallery of Art, 1992.

Rix, Brenda D., and Jay A. Clarke. Käthe Kollwitz: The Art of Compassion. Exh. cat. Toronto: Art Gallery of Ontario, 2003.

Selected Bibliographies on Ernst Barlach

Laur, Elisabeth. Ernst Barlach: Sämtliche Werke, Werkverzeichnis I. Die Druckgraphik. Leipzig: E. A. Seemann, 2001.

Paret, Peter. An Artist Against the Third Reich: Ernst Barlach, 1933–38. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002.

Selected Bibliographies on Ernst Ludwig Kirnchner

Dube, Annemarie, and Wolf-Dieter Dube. Ernst Ludwig Kirchner: Das graphische Werk. 2 vols. Munich: Prestel, 1980.

Gercken, Günther, and Magdalena M. Moeller. Ernst Ludwig Kirchner: Farbige Druckgraphik. Exh. cat. Berlin: Brücke-Museum, 2008.

Krämer, Felix, ed. Ernst Ludwig Kirchner: Retrospective. Exh. cat. Frankfurt: Städel Museum, 2010.

Lloyd, Jill, and Magdalena M. Moeller, eds. Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, 1880–1938. Exh. cat. Washington, DC: National Gallery of Art, 2003.

Wye, Deborah. Kirchner and the Berlin Street. Exh. cat. New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 2008.

[suzettefamilyhistoryhunter]

Let's review the information we've been given, though it's uncertain if it's entirely accurate.

After our father, Howard, had an accident that rendered him unable to care for himself or the family, their mother, Cheryl, took on the responsibility. However, there's a puzzling account of her allegedly leaving them by the roadside, leading child protection services to intervene. It's perplexing; why would a mother abandon her children? Perhaps the challenges of being a young single mother in the 1970s were overwhelming. Still, many aspects of the story remain unclear.

Later, I learned they were all adopted together by a firefighter father and possibly a mother who was a hairdresser or art teacher. The idea of them being adopted as a unit is heartwarming.

But what about their biological mother? Did they remain in Northern Ontario, Canada, or relocate?

In October 1977, a local newspaper published a classified ad seeking information about our biological father, Howard, with child protection services as the contact point. Where was he during this time? Could he have still been in the hospital at that point?

What unfolded afterward, and why does our family seem to be in the dark about it?

Years later, our father was absent from their lives, likely due to a closed adoption. The lack of a relationship undoubtedly weighed heavily on him. Unfortunately, discussing "the boys" or asking about them was off-limits. With the support of a counselor or therapist, he might have found healing or better coping mechanisms.

Since our father's passing in 2021, I feel more liberated to search for my long-lost siblings. Knowing that Dad is no longer suffering brings solace.

How ironic that I began this blog on what would have been his 70th birthday!

Cheers to you, Dad! I hope to reunite with them and find your presence in their faces. I pray they inherit your laughter! Regardless of life's circumstances, I hope they feel loved and supported.