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vancouvertrueborns · 5 years

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On December 27, 2018, South Vancouver lost a loyal friend, with the passing of historian Ken MacLeod, author of The Story of South Vancouver and John Oliver High School. The 74-year-old retired teacher lived his final years in Courtenay, but his heart remained in the Sunset neighbourhood of his childhood.

He attended MacKenzie Elementary and was an enthusiastic Boy Scout. As a student at John Oliver Secondary (J.O.), he joined every club and team that would have him, and founded the Mountain Dew Boys contingent of the Pep Club. He caught the acting bug in the school’s drama productions. He played football and broke his nose in a game of cricket.

His six years at J.O. (yes, they used to do grade 7 there) coincided with the adolescent pinnacle of the post-war baby boom, when John Oliver was the largest high school in Canada. The school frequently dominated in sports, music and scholastics, and Ken was sad to leave the frenetic place when he graduated in 1962.

He got his BA in education at University of British Columbia, and later an MA from the University of Victoria. Ken taught high school in Chase, Salmon Arm, Langley and Abbotsford. He coached over 60 teams, with an emphasis on his beloved sport of basketball.

In 1973, journalist Barry Broadfoot published Ten Lost Years, based on interviews with Canadians about the Great Depression. The oral history book fascinated Ken and he launched himself into the past. He traced his family roots back to 14th century Scottish king Robert the Bruce. He grabbed a tape recorder and began interviewing West Coast fisherman for a book that, although not completed, has resulted in a treasure trove of memories being donated to the Cumberland Museum and Archives. He immersed himself in Canadian armed forces history and was the military subject adviser to the Encyclopedia of British Columbia (Harbour Publishing, 2000). He guided 29 military and veterans tours to Europe, revisiting the Canadian battlefields, cemeteries, and commemorative sites. When he retired to Courtenay, he produced 19 musical shows, including an annual Remembrance Day review to honour veterans. Ken was a true ally of the Canadian soldier and one of the first citizens to receive a Veterans Affairs Canada Commendation. He was also awarded the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee Medal and made an honorary Seaforth Highlander.

But of all the forays that Ken made back in time, his biggest push was reserved for his old stomping grounds of South Vancouver. In 1999, Ken formed the John Oliver Historical Society with the intention of quickly writing a small book about the school. The historian soon discovered that J.O.’s background was vast and rich, and so intermeshed with the surrounding community that he felt forced to combine the two topics into a massive 800-page tome entitled The Story of South Vancouver and John Oliver High School. The project was a 12-year labour of love. The author filled a room in his home with interview tapes, photos and memorabilia. He travelled all over B.C. to collect memories. A story about kids pole vaulting over creeks on the South Slope led to the story of sprinter Barbara Howard (J.O. senior matric, 1940) becoming the first black female athlete to represent Canada internationally. She competed at the 1938 British Empire and Commonwealth Games in Sydney, Australia. That recollection led to memories of the Horticultural Hall, a barn-like structure that served as J.O.’s only gym up until the construction of a proper one in 1940. The rustic hall with its pot-bellied stove, continued as a back-up gym into the 1950s, and Ken chased down the holders of those memories, too.

The research snowballed. It is a miracle that Ken was able to publish the book in time to watch J.O. grad of ‘47 and billionaire Jimmy Pattison play his trumpet accompanied by Vancouver Mayor Gregor Robinson on tuba at the school’s centennial celebration in 2012.

Ken’s book is the only comprehensive history of South Vancouver on the shelves at the Vancouver Public Library. It is a fine legacy for an outstanding individual.

Even as Ken battled with lung cancer, he continued to arrange for his work to carry forward. An easy-to-search PDF of his book will soon appear on J.O.’s website. Other J.O. grads will continue his popular alumni e-letters. And Ken’s sister, Edie Kernighan (Grad of ’67) will work with her fellow classmates Alicia Hagerman and Nancy Nagel to help maintain the school’s archive. Their goal is to find a space to display John Oliver and South Van’s history. One possible venue is the school’s Unit Two Annex, an attractive 1926 Class-B heritage structure known as The Barn.

The rural reference is apt, because as Ken explains in his book, Vancouverites used to refer to the South Van crowd as “stump jumpers,” but the jabs stopped abruptly when the “farmers” living way out on Cemetery Road (Fraser Street) built John Oliver, which quickly became an educational powerhouse.

A service for Ken will be held at Courtenay Fellowship Baptist Church on January 12th at 1:00 pm.

In memory of Ken and his legacy to John Oliver Secondary School and South Vancouver, please consider a donation to John Oliver PAC 530 E 41st Ave, Vancouver, BC V5W 1P3 to support a scholarship and the JO Archives.

[UPDATE: Ken’s book The Story of South Vancouver and John Oliver High School is available as a free PDF download from the VSB Archives & Heritage website. Thank you to Derek Grant and his fellow volunteers who have done such a great job preserving the Vancouver school district’s history.]

#Ken MacLeod #John Oliver #Edie Kernighan #Jim Pattison #Jimmy Pattison #The Story of South Vancouver and John Oliver High School #Barbara Howard #MacKenzie Elementary #Sunset #The Barn #Cemetery Road #Fraser Street #Barry Broadfoot #Ten Lost Years #UBC #UVic #Courtenay

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lichlover · 6 years

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Here’s a prompt. Post-story and song, everyone is sitting around talking about birthdays, and angus says he never really had a good one. So taako, being the best dad ever, throws angus a huge party and he loves it and loves his giant weird family even more

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“Y’know what must’ve sucked?” says Taako. “Being born on Story and Song.”

He’s nestled comfortably in Kravitz’s lap, one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other balancing a half-empty cocktail. His glass isn’t the only one that looks like it’s about to be in need of refilling. Lup is about to reach the bottom of hers, and sitting against her, Barry holds a drink that glows eerily whenever he so much as shifts his grip. Magnus is the only one who’s drinking something Angus actually recognizes. His tabard of ale borders on the stereotypical, threatening to overflow with foam and making him red in the face, despite his insistence that he’s completely sober because “C’mon, you guys, I’d never get drunk in front of a kid!”

As if the man could convince anyone his tabard is brimming with a Shirley Temple.

But tonight isn’t about calling Magnus out on his bullshit. It’s about coming down from the aftermath and escaping from the world. They’re all sitting in the Bureau’s Reclaimer suite, because reporters haven’t quite figured out a way to get to the moon just yet, and it serves as their sanctuary away from the glitz and bright lights of fame. Angus, who has reached adolescence in theory but not in practice, appreciates the opportunity for a breather. The most recognition he’d received for his detective work had been a medal from the odd mayor or two; the rare commendation from a police commissioner. Garnering a worldwide fanbase—well, it should go without saying, but that’s another thing altogether.

As much as the Birds make a show of revelling in stardom (particularly Taako, who insists it’s his birthright), Angus can tell they’re feeling as relieved as he is. Why else would they be drinking like their lives depend on it?

Speaking of which. His mentor takes another gulp, effectively draining the cocktail, and goes on. “What the hell are you s’posed to do when your birthday is the fuckin’—fuckin’, when-the-world-got-saved day? You think anybody’s gonna pay attention to you then? Nah, they’re too—too busy gettin’ smashed and partying in the streets to worry about little Timmy or whatever, over there with—with a pair of commemorative socks, or whatever. Lame.”

“I thought you didn’t like birthdays,” Magnus points out.

“I don’t. They’re a big fuckin’ inconvenience. I’m makin’ conver—conversa—” Taako rolls his eyes and nudges Kravitz’s shoulder. “What’s the—?”

“Conversation,” his boyfriend provides, patiently. It had, admittedly, taken Angus some time to get over the man’s Grim Reaper status, because there is no amount of logic and common sense that keeps a child from feeling uneasy in the presence of death. But Kravitz, for all his awkward, outdated mannerisms and omnipresent exasperation, is a good man. He loves Taako, Angus knows; even if the L-word is something both of them insist on dancing around like they’re doing a quickstep on hot coals. And he’s kind to Taako’s family and everyone he cares about. Angus approves.

Taako reaches out to set his glass on the side table, misses, and lets it drop harmlessly to the carpet. “Yeah. That. Who even celebrates birthdays anymore?”

A murmur of consensus ripples over the room, and Angus readjusts his hold on the hot chocolate nestled in his hands. “Right!” he says, breaking into the conversation with a tentative smile. “They’re not a big deal, right?”

Fourteen pairs of eyes settle on him instantaneously. Despite the fact that he’s never known such a thing, Angus imagines it’s to the effect of fourteen parents staring him down. He isn’t a huge fan of it. “What?” he says, and takes a nervous sip of his hot chocolate because there’s nothing else to fill the silence. “What is it?”

“Ango,” says Magnus, in the tone of voice he uses when one of the Hammer and Tails’ dogs has wandered off. “Tell me you’ve had a birthday party.”

“Even a weird kid like you’s gotta have at least one of ’em under his belt,” Merle interjects. “Right?”

The discomfort in Angus’s expression is reaching Kravitz levels of obvious. “Uh… no? I mean, I got presents from my grandpa when he could afford it, but most of the time we just—”

“Okay,” Taako interrupts. “This is ridiculous.”

He gets up from Kravitz’s lap, which looks a bit like a spider unfolding its tangled limbs, and sways precariously on his feet before he regains his balance. “You dipshits know what we gotta do now.”

Magnus is already perked up. “Oh, yeah.”

“Sorry,” says Angus, “what are we doing?”

Taako levels a finger at him. He’s actually pointing at something just over Angus’s shoulder, but the sentiment is there nonetheless.

“We’re givin’ you the fuckin’ birthday party of a lifetime,” he says. “And you’re—you’ll never see it coming.”

Angus does see it coming.

For one, he catches Magnus creeping toward the residential dome with a crate full of fireworks. To his credit, Magnus stays mostly poker-faced as he explains that he’s gathering explosives for one of Lup’s post-regenerative experiments. He’s so taciturn that Angus doesn’t have the heart to say anything about it.

For another, the Reclaimer suite’s availability evaporates into thin air. The Birds hem and haw and claim it’s an administrative decision, and Angus nods and politely agrees because he really is touched by the amount of effort that’s going into keeping him out of the loop. They even put up caution tape—RENOVATIONS IN PROGRESS! it says. He assumes it’s a clever means of explaining away the occasional drilling, grating, and scraping sounds he can make out behind the door.

They do the best they can to keep him away from it. Lup and Barry invite Angus to their lab for a day, which granted is a privilege Angus can’t bear to pass up, so he goes and learns an inordinate amount about something that is definitely not necromancy, especially if Kravitz asks. Davenport takes him sailing, and Angus learns how to steer a ship with confidence, even if he can’t quite keep up with the captain’s rapid fire nautical-speak. He leads his first seminar at Taako’s Amazing School of Magic. The students snicker until Angus politely but ruthlessly shoots down their proposals for new spells, and suddenly their young professor is deserving of significantly more respect.

He’s out on the lawn one day, practicing some spells of his own, when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Angus jumps and almost loses his footing on the artificial grass, and the Director—Lucretia—winces and jerks back. “Sh—sorry,” she stammers. “I knew sneaking up on you was a bad idea, and… well, funny thing, I just did it anyway.”

She looks different, he thinks, especially now that he knows how young she used to be. The bags under her eyes are more pronounced—she’s been working day and night to kickstart the newly established Bureau of Benevolence and, Angus suspects, to avoid confrontation with the Birds. Even Magnus, who’s forgiven her unconditionally, seems a little touchy when Lucretia’s name is mentioned. Angus doesn’t blame her for wanting to stay away.

“Hello, ma’am!” he says, because he hasn’t quite figured out how he feels about Lucretia’s decision, but he knows she’s a good person, and there’s no reason why he can’t spare her some common courtesy. “Can I, uh… can I help you with something?”

Lucretia balks a little at that, and her hand tightens almost imperceptibly around her new staff. It’s considerably simpler than the Bulwark Staff; made out of smooth, elegantly polished red wood with a subtle gloss. The tiny outline of a duck sits at its base—a Burnsides Original. “Oh. Um—mind if I sit?”

Angus doesn’t. She lowers herself to the grass, and he sits cross-legged beside her and looks through the transparent dome overhead as she situates herself. The sky is pale and bright, starting to fade with the gradual advance of evening, and the shadows around them grow longer as the sun sinks toward the horizon.

It’s a lonely hour of the day, he thinks.

Lucretia looks over and smiles faintly. “You know about the birthday party, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” says Angus, truthfully.

Her shoulders slump as she breathes out a small sigh of relief. “Thank the gods. I realized as soon as I said it that if you didn’t know, I’d be spoiling the surprise, and… well.” She shakes her head. “I should have known, anyway. You’re too smart to be caught off guard like that.”

“Well, ma’am, I am the World’s Greatest Detective!”

“That you are.” Lucretia’s smile returns, softer; lacking the weariness he’s so accustomed to seeing. “Anyway, I, uh… I’m not going to be there, because—”

It isn’t polite to interrupt, but Angus wants to spare her the agony of explaining. “I know,” he says.

Something like gratitude shimmers briefly in Lucretia’s eyes before she continues. “I just wanted to give you this.”

She reaches into the folds of her robe and produces a parcel, neatly wrapped in holographic paper and topped with a tiny bow. Angus takes it, and she nods encouragingly at him. “Open it.”

He does. It’s a journal—the cover is a deep, vibrant blue inlaid with white thread, which glimmers subtly when he tips it from side to side. Angus thumbs over the creamy paper and cradles the cover in his palms, and as he does so, it falls open to the first page. There, in Lucretia’s delicate calligraphy, is a message.

For your observations.Happy birthday to the smartest, bravest young man I know.

Madam Director

He looks up at her, struck dumb. “This is…”

“It’s just a little something,” says Lucretia, who looks suddenly but unmistakably shy. “I saw that little notepad of yours and I just thought you could use something a little nice—”

She breaks off when Angus hugs her. His arms, he notices, can now fit comfortably around her midriff, and the ridges of tiny ribs poke into his chest.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he whispers.

He can feel her nod against him, and slowly, hesitantly, she returns the embrace. “Of course.”

Taako rouses him bright and early with a shower of sparks over his bed. “Up and at ’em, Agnes!” he says. “Early morning magic lesson! We’ve got work to do!”

Angus is still bleary-eyed when his mentor drags him from his dormitory on the Bureau. He stops to tap one shoe against the pavement, fitting it completely over his foot, and then he’s off again, struggling to keep pace with Taako’s long strides.

“Sir,” he says, around an inadvertent yawn. “Where are we going?”

“I just said it was a magic lesson. Keep up.”

“But,” says Angus, peering under the brim of Taako’s enormous hat, “we usually practice on the quad, and we just passed the quad.”

Taako thrusts a hand at him and practically bats his inquiry away. “Less questions, more—more walking, let’s go!”

And that’s how Angus knows.

They arrive at the Reclaimer suite not five minutes later, and sure enough, the caution tape is gone. “Just need to pick up some shit,” Taako mumbles, digging around for his keys. “Won’t take a minute, and then we’ll—we’ll be off to the races, yeah?”

Something shuffles behind the door, followed by a bit of muffled whispering. Taako looks a little bit like he wants to die, but credit where credit is due—he soldiers on, undaunted. “C’mon, kid.”

The key slides into the lock, the door swings open, and an explosion of light and sound nearly knocks Angus off his feet.

“Happy birthday, Angus!” several voices shout in unison, and then the roof explodes.

A flurry of fireworks swirl around them, and Lup’s scream of delight almost drowns out the chorus of popping and fizzing. “Look at that!” she yells. “Perfect execution! Boom! Hope you were filming that, babe, ’cuz that’s never happening again!”

Barry holds up a Lucas Miller official patented Fantasy Camcorder™. “Got it!”

Angus blinks the stars out of his eyes and looks around the room. Apart from Barry, Lup, and Taako, he spots Magnus, Davenport, Carey and Killian arm-in-arm, Ren, Avi, and Merle, with a suspiciously plant-shaped gift sitting next to him. The room is draped with fantasy fairy lights and streamers, but what catches Angus’s eye isn’t the decor, or the mountain of presents in the corner of the room. It’s a cake—mounted at the center of the room, taller than he is, with a fondant rendition of a very familiar-looking hat and magnifying glass at the top.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE WORLD’S GREATEST DETECTIVE! it says.

“Oh, wow,” says Angus. “This is a complete surprise. I never expected—”

“We know you knew,” says Taako.

“Oh, thank gods.” Angus drops the facade of shock, but his smile stays put—it’s wider and brighter than the plane of magic itself.

“Thank you,” he says, and can’t quite swallow back the emotional break in his voice. “Thank you guys so much.”

“Anytime, little man,” says Lup. Her hair is slightly singed, but her grin is almost as large as his. “It was our pleasure.”

“Speaking of which,” says Merle. “It is your birthday, right?”

The room goes silent.

“Shit.”

“Fuck—”

“Watch your fucking language!”

“How could nobody check, how did we miss that—”

A late firework shoots into the air, the Birds devolve into squabbling, and Angus McDonald laughs.

#bircjosta #ask #the adventure zone #taz balance #angus mcdonald #ipre #kravitz #fic #mine #I FINALLY FINISHED A PROMPT ARE YALL PROUD OF ME

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daisychains4 · 5 years

Text

Strings (4/16)

Chapter 4: Something Big (Masterlist)

Warnings: None

Note: Italics are song lyrics

AN: This is the Shawn Mendes x reader AU teenage heartbreak story you didn’t know you needed.

Andrew Gertler flew Shawn and his dad to New York, where Shawn signed his first record deal. With only heartbreak waiting for him back in Pickering, Shawn dove headfirst into his music.

Play the lotto you might win it.

It's like 25 to life so you bust out of prison.

Something's in the air, something's in the air.

It's like that feeling when you're just about to kill it,

Take your last shot, you know you're gonna hit it.

Something's in the air, something's in the air.

“Mercy” became an overnight sensation after Shawn recorded it in a professional studio. The official music video earned millions more hits on YouTube than the one he recorded in his bedroom.

Shawn watched his first music video for the first time in a room crowded with record executives, his mum, dad, and sister at his side. It didn’t feel real, and Shawn found himself gripping his mum’s hand tightly. She thought he was excited, but deep down, Shawn knew the moment felt incomplete. Something - someone - was missing.

He shook off the feeling, knowing that this was a moment he should enjoy. A smile spread across his face and excitement took over.

Something big I feel it happening

Out of my control

Pushing, pulling, and it's grabbing me,

Feel it in my bones like—

While “Mercy” was on the rise, Shawn was in a Toronto recording studio nonstop, working hard to write and record his first album. He was only going to school part-time, and completing some of his credits online. His parents supported his music career, but insisted he finish high school.

He loved making music, and he loved the distraction that staying busy provided. If he was constantly working and constantly on the move, it was harder to miss you. Instead, he poured all of his love and all of his heartbreak into his new songs. He couldn’t share them with you, so he would share them with the world and hope that maybe they would reach you.

It's like that feeling when you're 'bout to win the medal,

And you worked so hard that you knew you wouldn't settle,

Hands are in the air, hands are in the air.

When they hear you when you thought they wouldn't listen,

It's like an anthem that the whole world's singing.

Hands are in the air, hands are in the air.

Shawn’s EP was released in record time. It took the charts by storm and received rave reviews from critics. A rabid fanbase was born almost overnight.

Shawn had hardly had time to celebrate his early success when his newly named manager, Andrew, called him into his office for a meeting. Shawn wasn’t sure what the meeting was about, but Andrew sounded serious. Shawn fidgeted nervously next to his dad as he waited for Andrew.

Shawn jumped up when Andrew came into the room. They shook hands before Andrew walked around his desk to sit down. Shawn sat, following his manager’s lead.

“Well Shawn, I know you’re dying to know why I called you in today.”

“Yes sir,” he said politely. “I hope it’s good news,” he smiled.

Andrew smiled back mischievously. He pressed a button on his office phone and spoke into the speaker. “Are you there?”

“I’m here!” a woman’s voice replied through the phone. It sounded familiar, but Shawn couldn’t quite place who it was.

“Hi Shawn, this is Taylor Swift, how are you?”

Shawn’s jaw dropped. He was too starstruck to respond.

Andrew answered for him. “He’s good, Taylor, he’s - well, he’s speechless.”

Shawn recovered. “It’s so nice to meet you - kind of,” he said.

“You, too, Shawn! I’m hoping that one day soon we’ll meet in person,” Taylor replied.

“That would be great!” Shawn agreed. “I’m a huge fan.”

“Actually, I’m a huge fan of yours, Shawn. That’s why I called. I was thinking we could get together soon, maybe meet on stage for the 1989 Tour. What do you think about coming on the road with me?” she asked.

“Wh— Are you serious?” Shawn stammered. “I mean— what?”

Taylor laughed over the line. “I’m totally serious. I want you to open for me.”

Shawn beamed. “Yes! Are you kidding me, yes!”

Something big I feel it happening

Out of my control,

Pushing, pulling, and it's grabbing me,

Feel it in my bones like—

The 1989 Tour was an experience unlike anything else. Shawn’s fame was catapulted right along with Taylor’s megastar. Shawn played in 48 cities to stadiums filled with hundreds of thousands of people. They were there to see Taylor, but they were Mendes fans by the time his set was finished.

If we stomp our feet,

The ground will shake

If we clap our hands,

The walls will break

Yell so loud won't forget our names

'Cause something big is happening...

Shawn’s last night of the tour was more emotional than he’d expected. He was sad to see it end, and it felt like these would change again. He wasn’t ready for things to slow down; he knew that if he stood still for too long, he’d have to face his longing for you.

Taylor came looking for Shawn after her show ended. She wanted to celebrate.

“Let’s do something crazy!” she told him, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of his dressing room. Some of her dancers followed them as they headed out into the night.

“Like what?” Shawn asked. His heart was only half in it, and Taylor could tell.

“Let’s get tattoos!” one of the dancers suggested.

“Yes!” some of the other dancers agreed. “To commemorate the tour!”

“I don’t do tattoos guys,” Taylor said warningly. “But I’ll watch if you do!” she said, poking Shawn in the ribs.

Taylor’s excitement was infections, and Shawn couldn’t help but catch it.

“Ok, I’m in,” he said, shrugging. “I’ve always wanted a tattoo.”

Take this spark

And start a fire.

Raise this up,

We're feeling high.

They can't tell us anything,

'Cause something big is happening.

Shawn stood in front of a wall of tattoo designs, thinking about what he might want to get. Taylor stood behind him, throwing out meaningless suggestions, which he rejected.

“I’m not getting a tattoo of a pegacorn,” he said exasperatedly. “Or a cat, so don’t suggest that either.”

An Asian man came into the lobby of the tattoo parlour. “What’ll it be?” he asked in a voice that suggested he wasn’t someone to mess with.

Shawn pointed to a section on the wall with Sailor Jerry tattoos. “A swallow,” Shawn said.

“Ooooh, classic,” Taylor said approvingly.

“Black ink and shading; I don’t want any color.”

Shawn sat down and put his right hand on the tattoo artist’s table. Taylor sat at his side, squeezing his left hand for support.

Shawn winced when he heard the buzz of the tattoo machine, but was pleasantly surprised to find that the tattoo itself didn’t hurt as much as he’d expected.

“Why a bird?” Taylor asked curiously as she watched Shawn’s ink take shape.

“Swallow is the sign of a traveler,” the artist said gruffly. “That’s why sailors wore them.”

“And because a swallow is one of the few of its kind that remember their home,” Shawn added.

“I love that. What a great reminder of home when you’re on the road.”

What Shawn didn’t say out loud was that he hoped the symbol of a traveler returning home would somehow bring you back to him.

Something big I feel it happening

Out of my control

Pushing, pulling, and it's grabbing me,

Feel it in my bones.

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes army #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes x reader #multific #shawn mendes multific #shawn mendes something big #something big #shawn mendes songfic #shawn mendes song fic #song fic #songfic

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skateofministry · 3 years

Text

At Tokyo Olympics, skateboarding teens blaze trail for women

TOKYO (AP) – On the Olympic podium stood 3 teenage women — 13, 13 and 16 — with weighty gold, silver and bronze medals around their young necks, benefits for having actually landed techniques on their skateboards that the majority of kids their age just get to see on Instagram.

After years in the shadows of guys’s skateboarding, the future for the sport’s bold, trailblazing females unexpectedly looked brighter than ever at the Tokyo Games on Monday.

It’s anybody’s guess the number of girls tuned in to view Momiji Nishiya of Japan win the launching Olympic skateboarding occasion for females, providing the host country a sweep of golds in the street occasion after Yuto Horigome won the guys’s occasion.

Japan’s Momiji Nishiya and Brazil’s Rayssa Leal have 2 things in typical:

They are both 13 years of ages and they are both Olympic medalists.#TokyoOlympics | #OlympicHERstory pic.twitter.com/uuMckwPLuS

— #TokyoOlympics (@NBCOlympics) July 26, 2021

But all over the world, women attempting to encourage their moms and dads that they, too, must be permitted to skate can now indicate the 13-year-old from Osaka as an Olympic-sized example of skateboarding’s possibilities.

A champ of couple of words — “Simply delighted,” is how she explained herself — Nishiya let her board do the talking, riding it down rails taller than she is. She stated she’d commemorate by asking her mom to treat her to a supper of Japanese yakiniku barbecue.

The silver went to Rayssa Leal, likewise 13 — Brazil’s 2nd silver in skateboarding after Kelvin Hoefler completed in 2nd put on Sunday in the guys’s occasion.

Both Nishiya and Leal became their nations’ youngest ever medalists. The bronze went to 16-year-old Funa Nakayama of Japan.

“Now I can convince all my friends to skateboard everywhere with me,” Leal stated.

She initially captured the skateboarding world’s attention as a 7-year-old with a video on Instagram of her trying, and landing, a dive with a flip down 3 stairs while using a gown with angel wings.

“Skateboarding is for everyone,” she stated.

I imagine being as cool as 13-year-old Rayssa Leal

#OlympicHERstory | #TokyoOlympics pic.twitter.com/QtufGOumLa

— On Her Turf (@OnHerTurf) July 26, 2021

But that hasn’t constantly held true for girls, even amongst the 20 female leaders who rode the rails, ramps and ledges at the Ariake Urban Sports Park.

The field consisted of Leticia Bufoni of Brazil, whose board was snapped in 2 by her daddy when she was a kid to attempt to stop her from skating.

She was 10.

“I cried for hours,” she remembered. “He thought girls shouldn’t skate because he had never seen a woman skate before.”

Bufoni included, half-joking, that getting him to relent had actually been more difficult than receiving the Tokyo Games.

“So I want be that girl that the little girls can show their parents and be like, ‘She can skate. I want to be like her,’” Bufoni stated.

Annie Guglia of Canada stated she didn’t see any other women skate throughout her very first 2 years on her board. The very first contest she went into, at the age of 13, had no females’s classification, so organizers needed to develop one for her.

“And I won, because I was the only one,” the 30-year-old Guglia stated. “We have come a long way.”

13-year-old Momiji Nishiya of Japan made history by ending up being the very first Olympic champ EVER in females’s skateboarding

#TokyoOlympics | #OlympicHERstory pic.twitter.com/R27wkYz00g

— #TokyoOlympics (@NBCOlympics) July 26, 2021

Skaters forecasted that by time the next Olympics roll around, in Paris in 2024, the females’s field will have a higher depth of skill and techniques, developed on the structures they laid in Tokyo.

“It’s going to change the whole game,” U.S. skater Mariah Duran stated. “This is like opening at least one door to, you know, many skaters who are having the conversations with their parents, who want to start skating.

“I’m not surprised if there’s probably already like 500 girls getting a board today.”

Nishiya is going locations with hers. She stated she intends to be at the Paris Games “and win.”

“I want to be famous,” she stated.

But initially — barbecue. Her thrilled mother didn’t take much convincing.

“I’ll definitely take her,” she stated.

___

AP Sports Writer Stephen Wade and Miina Yamada added to this report.

___

More AP Olympics: https://apnews.com/hub/2020-tokyo-olympics and https://twitter.com/AP_Sports

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motorpedia · 3 years

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Rolls-Royce Landspeed Collection: Recalling a forgotten hero

- New Rolls-Royce Collection of Wraith and Dawn Black Badge - Landspeed Collection celebrates the records set by British engineer Captain George Eyston in Thunderbolt, powered by two Rolls-Royce R V12 aero engines - Interior details recall the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah, where Eyston pursued his record-breaking endeavours in 1937-38 - Salt Flats’ fissured texture is perfectly reproduced in the engraved fascia; steering-wheel detail mimics the dark track-line marked on the surface during record runs - Starlight Headliner precisely depicts the night sky on 16 September 1938, when Eyston set his third and final land-speed record of 357.497 mph - Silhouettes of the long-lost Thunderbolt, and its three record-breaking speeds, are laser-engraved on the front tunnel - Subtle detail in driver’s-side door reproduces ribbon colours of the honours awarded to Eyston during his lifetime - Production limited to just 35 examples of Wraith Black Badge, and 25 of Dawn Black Badge “It’s human nature to want to go further, do more, be greater than ourselves. The innate desire to extend horizons and define new limits is an instinct we’ve always understood at Rolls-Royce; and we have acted upon it once again with our new Landspeed Collection.“The Collection, which includes both Wraith and Dawn Black Badge, celebrates someone with exactly that dauntless, fearless, pioneering spirit. His name was Captain George Eyston, a Cambridge University graduate, racing driver, gifted inventor and engineering genius. In the late 1930s, he broke the world land-speed record three times with his car Thunderbolt, powered by two Rolls-Royce R V12 aero engines. He was a true hero from an age of epic endeavours; yet both he and Thunderbolt have been all-but forgotten for more than 80 years.“With this Collection, we have revived Eyston’s memory and retold his remarkable story. Throughout Wraith and Dawn Landspeed, clients will find numerous subtle design elements and narrative details that recall and commemorate his amazing achievements, grand vision and exceptional courage.” Torsten Müller-Ötvös, CEO, Rolls-Royce Motor Cars Rolls-Royce has been associated with world speed records on both land and water for more than a century. But while the exploits of Sir Malcolm Campbell are well documented and widely known, another British hero who set three land-speed records using Rolls-Royce engines has been largely overlooked by history. Now, after more than 80 years, Rolls-Royce recalls this hero’s inspiring exploits. With the new Wraith and Dawn Black Badge Landspeed Collection, the marque uncovers and retells the remarkable story of the redoubtable Captain George Eyston, and his extraordinary car, Thunderbolt. Born in 1897, George Eyston was fascinated with motorsport from childhood, racing both cars and (under an assumed name) motorcycles while still at school. His degree in engineering at Trinity College, Cambridge, was interrupted by the Great War, in which he served with distinction, rising to the rank of captain and winning the Military Cross. He spent the 1920s and 30s developing and driving racing cars; a talented inventor, he also held a number of patents, particularly in the field of supercharging. In 1935, Eyston was among the first British racers to travel to the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah, where he set new 24-hour and 48-hour endurance speed records. He subsequently received the Segrave Trophy, awarded to ‘the British national who demonstrates Outstanding Skill, Courage and Initiative on Land, Water and in the Air’. In 1937, he returned to the Flats and went on to set three world land-speed records with Thunderbolt. This extraordinary machine had three axles, eight wheels and weighed seven tonnes, earning it monikers such as ‘behemoth’ and ‘leviathan’ in contemporary reports. The body was made from aluminium and, in its original form, had a blunt, heavyset profile topped with a large triangular tailfin. CELEBRATING ACHIEVEMENT, INNOVATION AND COURAGE The Rolls-Royce Landspeed Collection draws inspiration from George Eyston’s remarkable life and record-breaking feats. It also has strong aesthetic links to the unique, otherworldly landscape of the Bonneville Salt Flats where Thunderbolt made him, albeit briefly, the fastest man on Earth. The Collection Car duo is presented in a specially created two-tone finish, which marries Black Diamond Metallic with a new Bespoke colour, Bonneville Blue. This specially developed hue bears particular significance to the Collection, with a colour that transitions under sunlight from light blue to silver, illustrating the reflections of both the vast sky over Bonneville and the crisp salt flats on Thunderbolt’s aluminium body. Thunderbolt was powered by a pair of Rolls-Royce R supercharged 37-litre, V-12 aero engines, each producing well over 2,000 horsepower. Around only 19 of these engines were ever made: indeed, they were so rare that Thunderbolt’s engines had a previous career in the Schneider Trophy-winning Supermarine S6.B seaplane that would lay the foundations for the legendary Spitfire. Today, Thunderbolt’s two R engines are preserved at the Royal Air Force Museum, Hendon and the Science Museum in London. The car itself, however, has been lost. After being exhibited at the 1940 Centennial Exhibition in New Zealand, it was placed in storage, but was sadly destroyed in 1946 when 27,000 bales of wool, housed in the same building, caught fire. HOLDING THE LINE Eyston set his records on the International Speedway, a specially compacted section of the Bonneville Salt Flats 10 miles (16km) long and 80 feet (24m) wide. The terrain is perfectly level in all directions and shines brilliant white in the sunlight: the absence of landmarks and ferocious glare combines to make holding course and judging distance extremely difficult at high speed. George Eyston himself, commented, “On the salt bed, which has to be carefully prepared by dragging, we paint one or more black lines along the whole length. These lines act as guides and prevent the driver straying; for errors of a few feet in steering might culminate in disastrous results. You see, you might drive a few feet away from the absolute line, something else might happen and you get a few feet more and, believe me, you will never get back”. As he recognised, deviating from the speedway would have been extremely hazardous, particularly given Thunderbolt’s enormous weight. In response, Eyston’s team painted darkened track lines on the salt surface for Eyston to follow – effectively his sole means of keeping Thunderbolt straight at over 350 mph. This simple yet ingenious idea is recalled in the Landspeed Collection by a subtly perforated dark detail in the upper-centre of the steering wheel, which continues through the centre-line of the driver’s seat, accentuating both Wraith and Dawn’s driver focused appeal. The Bonneville Salt Flats may appear smooth; but in fact, they’re seamed with tiny fissures. This distinctive texture is perfectly reproduced, digitally retraced from the surface itself, in the wooden veneer of Landspeed Collection’s fascia and console lids. The interior references continue with Thunderbolt’s unique silhouette, and the records it achieved, depicted on the polished, anodised aluminium surface of the Landspeed Collection’s front tunnel. Dawn Landspeed additionally celebrates George Eyston’s vision with the outline of the Silver Island mountains, which dominate the Bonneville horizon, engraved on the upper ‘waterfall’ between the rear seats. According to the history books, Eyston’s third and final land-speed record of 357.497 mph stood for 341 days. In the new Collection Cars, it is commemorated for all time, engraved into the housing of the dashboard clock alongside the name ‘Bonneville’, in homage to where the record was set. Thunderbolt was originally left unpainted, which caused an unexpected problem. During the first record attempts, the photo-electric timing equipment was unable to detect the polished aluminium body against the searing white of the Salt Flats’ surface, making accurate timing impossible. Eyston’s brilliantly simple solution was to paint a large black arrow with a yellow circle on the side, to heighten visibility when travelling at great speed. Bright yellow accents throughout the Landspeed Collection, including two-tone yellow and black bumper inserts, pay tribute to this vision. The clock’s design recounts this theme. Based on the instrument dials from Thunderbolt, with yellow and black details, black-tipped hands are inspired by the arrows painted on the original car’s exterior. The allure of the Bonneville Salt Flats draws not only record-breakers, but astronomers, too. Stargazers prize this vast, unpopulated wilderness for its exceptionally dark night skies, which create perfect conditions unspoiled by artificial light. In Wraith Landspeed, the Starlight Headliner perfectly recreates the heavens as they appeared over the Flats on 16 September 1938, the date on which Eyston and Thunderbolt set their third and final world land-speed record. The constellations are precisely marked using 2,117 individually placed fibre-optic ‘stars’, the largest number of stars in a Rolls-Royce Wraith Starlight Headliner ever featured. During his lifetime, George Eyston received three significant honours. He was awarded the Military Cross (MC) while serving in the Great War; in 1938, after his record-breaking runs with Thunderbolt he was made a Chevalier of the Légion d’honneur, France’s highest civilian decoration; and in 1948, he received the Order of the British Empire (OBE). These honours are marked in both Wraith and Dawn Landspeed with a subtle detail in the driver’s door, made in the same Grosgrain weave silk and colours to match the original medal ribbons. The armrests on both the passenger side and below the ribbon detail are specially padded to give them the comfortable ‘club armchair’ quality that Eyston favoured in his driving seats, much to the amusement of his fellow racers. Production of Landspeed Collection cars is strictly limited to just 25 examples of Dawn and 35 of Wraith, all of which have already been allocated to customers. In closing, Mr Müller-Ötvös said, “Rolls-Royce has been synonymous with adventure, daring and pushing boundaries throughout its history. We are delighted that with the Landspeed Collection, we can add another hitherto unsung hero to the illustrious roll call of pioneers associated with our great marque. With his vision, boldness, determination and genius for innovation and invention, George Eyston embodies so much of what makes Rolls-Royce unique. These cars are a fitting and long overdue tribute to a truly inspiring character.” TECHNICAL SPECIFICATIONS Wraith Black Badge: NEDCcorr (combined) CO2 emission: 367 g/km; Fuel consumption: 17.5 mpg / 16.1 l/100km; WLTP (combined) CO2 emission: 370-365 g/km; Fuel consumption: 17.2-17.4 mpg / 16.4-16.2 l/100km Dawn Black Badge: NEDCcorr (combined) CO2 emission: 371 g/km; Fuel consumption: 17.3 mpg / 16.3 l/100km; WLTP (combined) CO2 emission: 382-380 g/km; Fuel consumption: 16.7-16.9 mpg / 16.9-16.8 l/100km. FURTHER INFORMATION You can find all our press releases and press kits, as well as a wide selection of high resolution, downloadable photographs and video footage at our media website, PressClub. You can also follow marque on social media: LinkedIn; YouTube; Twitter; Instagram; and Facebook. Read the full article

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goldeagleprice · 5 years

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Q. David Bowers on Bill Bierly’s In God We Trust

(Pelham, Alabama) — In November 2019 Whitman Publishing will release William Bierly’s In God We Trust: The American Civil War, Money, Banking, and Religion. The 352-page hardcover volume will be available from booksellers and hobby shops nationwide, and online. Here, numismatic historian Q. David Bowers shares his thoughts on the book.

Bill Bierly’s In God We Trust is one of the most detailed, intricate, and fascinating books in the field of American numismatics—and in American history in general.

The national motto “In God We Trust” is familiar to all of us. Look in your pocket change or wallet and you will find it on every United States coin and paper bill. Before reading the manuscript to Bierly’s book I thought I knew all about the subject.

1864 two-cent piece, PF-65. Hover to zoom.

Some years ago I wrote an article, “God in Your Pocket,” for my local Presbyterian Church, telling of the motto’s use on coins. I knew it appeared on pattern coins in 1863 and in 1864 made its first appearance on a circulating coin, the bronze two-cent piece, a new denomination introduced that year. I had the obscure knowledge that “In God We Trust” is the motto of the State of Florida and was used on certain National Bank notes issued in that state in the second half of the 19th century.

I also knew that the $5 Silver Certificates of the Series of 1886 illustrate the reverse of a Morgan silver dollar of that year, with the motto as part of the design.

But what I didn’t know were 101 other details—make that many more than 101 different details—as to how the motto came to be, how it was used over the years, and the wide cast of characters in the Treasury Department and elsewhere who participated in its use on money.

All too often, books, newspaper columns, and magazine articles about popular subjects lack many details. For Whitman Publishing I wrote a volume on President Ronald Reagan, and I read every book and important study I could find. There were very few details about his personal day-to-day life. Not to worry about the historical personalities involved with “In God We Trust.” While you might not learn the names of the protagonists’ pet cats or their favorite dime novels, there is not much else missing in Bierly’s excellent narrative. Dozens of cast members play cameo roles and small walk-on parts.

It is probably correct to say that no other researcher could add to Bill Bierly’s efforts! He collaborated with professional numismatists, leaving no stone (or coin) unturned in the creation of this book. Commonly believed myths and misunderstandings he examined, debunked, and corrected. Hundreds of historical images were collected, many of which have never been published in a numismatic reference, to which have been added beautiful photographs of rare coins, patterns, tokens, medals, and paper currency, including close-ups of important characteristics. All of this required a lot of work, creativity, and careful attention to detail.

Further on the subject of detail: I enjoy learning about and digging deeply into previously unexplored subjects. I have written books on the Waterford Water Cure (a health spa in Waterford, Maine, that counterstamped coins as advertisements), The Strange Career of Dr. G.G. Wilkins (about a countertstamper who was a dentist, also operated a restaurant with a caged bear in front, and was suspected of passing counterfeit money and also burning down a neighbor’s barn), and, for good measure, books about Alexandre Vattemare (a French numismatist who visited America and became important to the development of libraries here), and Augustus G. Heaton (the teenaged coin dealer who founded the American Numismatic Society in 1858).

Each of these books was popular in its time, despite their obviously obscure subjects. Readers find satisfaction in a well-told story that brings new depth and insight.

That is precisely what we get with In God We Trust, debuting this holiday season. Anyone with a combined interest in American history and numismatics will find a new world of important information, fascinating details, and previously unconnected relationships.

2009 Abraham Lincoln commemorative silver dollar Uncirculated obverse.

The motto “In God We Trust” is hardly history alone. It is so much more, and it means different things to different people. Today there are vocal critics who feel that it has no place on coins or paper currency. For that matter, some believe that God has no place in public (and in some cases, private) life. On the other hand, many more people do indeed believe in the Supreme Being. Sometimes it just seems the naysayers get all of the publicity.

“In God We Trust” has appeared on American money since the Civil War. William Bierly tells how the national motto came to be. (Photographs courtesy of Stack’s Bowers Galleries and the United States Mint.)

Bill Bierly’s In God We Trust approaches the subject respectfully on all sides, with color, personality, dashes of humor, and dogged pursuit of the truth. He has given us a smorgasbord: There is a lot to choose from. If you are a collector and strictly so, with no interest in the million points where numismatics touches American history, you can simply immerse yourself in the coins, paper money, tokens, and medals. If you are like me, however, and enjoy every historical highway and byway connected to American money, you will read and find pleasure in the entire book from start to finish.

David Bowers is the award-winning author of more than 60 numismatic books ranging from 90-page monographs to 900-page encyclopedias, hundreds of auction and other catalogs, and several thousand articles including columns in Coin World, Paper Money, and The Numismatist. He is a past president of both the American Numismatic Association (1983–1985) and the Professional Numismatists Guild (1977–1979). In his 60-plus-year career in numismatics, he has earned most of the highest honors bestowed by the hobby community, including the ANA’s Lifetime Achievement Award and induction in the ANA Numismatic Hall of Fame.

In God We Trust: The American Civil War, Money, Banking, and Religion

By William Bierly; foreword by Q. David Bowers

ISBN 0794845282

Hardcover, 6 x 9 inches, 352 pages, full color

Retail $29.95 U.S.

About the Author

William (Bill) Bierly was raised on a farm near Walkerton, Indiana. As a child, he heard stories from his grandparents about two of his great-grandfathers who had served in the Civil War. This led to a lifelong interest in that war and that period of history. At about age eight, he began collecting coins from circulating change. Following high school Bierly attended Northwestern University for two years and then completed a degree in sociology and economic development with a minor in Chinese studies at Indiana University. He then worked in India for two years as a Peace Corps volunteer in a dairy development project. Back in the United States, his interest in coins was rekindled. He soon went abroad again, working for three years in Osaka, Japan. Then in the United States, he operated a small business for five years, sold it, and entered graduate school, earning an MBA in finance from Indiana University and embarking on a 25-year career in commercial banking. With his overseas experience, Bierly focused on international banking, particularly Japanese corporate business and Asian correspondent banking. He began his career at the National Bank of Detroit, and he worked with J.P. Morgan Chase for much of his career; at various times at the bank’s Detroit, Chicago, and Columbus, Ohio, offices, as well as often traveling to Asia.

While thus engaged, Bierly continued to pursue his coin hobby, eventually specializing in Civil War–era coinage, in particular, pattern coins. Today he is active in several coin groups and clubs, most notably the Central States Numismatic Society, the American Numismatic Association, the American Numismatic Society, the Chicago Coin Club, the Michigan State Numismatic Society, and the Pennsylvania Association of Numismatists, as well as the Civil War Token Society and the Liberty Seated Collectors Club. He sometimes exhibits his collection at major coin shows and frequently volunteers as an exhibit judge.

Bierly resides in LaPorte, Indiana. He has two children, Emma and Ken, as well as a granddaughter, Kiki.

About Whitman Publishing

Whitman Publishing is the world’s leading producer of numismatic reference books, supplies, and products to display and store coins and paper money. The company’s high-quality books educate readers in the rich, colorful history of American and world coinage and currency, and teach how to build great collections. Archival-quality Whitman folders, albums, cases, and other holders keep collectibles safe and allow them to be shown off to friends and family.

Whitman Publishing is the Official Supplier of the American Numismatic Association. As a benefit of membership in the ANA, members can borrow In God We Trust (and other Whitman books) for free from the Association’s Dwight N. Manley Numismatic Library, and also receive 10% off all Whitman purchases. Details are at the website of the ANA.

❑

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gurmeetbabaramrahim · 5 years

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Salute to Martyrs

The 10-month-old son bade final good bye to his brave Father Hari Singh, along with the entire Haryana State. Hari Singh’s last farewell, martyred in the terrorist attack of Jaish-e-Muhammed on February 14 in Pulwama, Jammu and Kashmir, was commemorated on Tuesday. On Tuesday afternoon in the native village of Rajgarh, thousands of damp eyes gave the last farewell to the martyr. Amidst the nation mourning their sons, everyone is equally angered at this devilish act, in the name of terrorism and freedom. Baba Ram Rahim Ji, has even warned the nation, against terrorism and its impact through his Satsangs and even a “Film hind Ka Napak Ko Jawaab” holds many instances, which talk of how Jihaad, has been taken further and what steps can we do to tackle the same. Although, we cannot really oust this deadly menace, at once, but some concrete steps, can prove fruitful in the long run. The villages, who are receiving bodies of their beloved sons, are deeply drenched in the blood of their Jawans and tears of their victimized families. And it’s time we feel ashamed to have caused so much damage to these souls, for our own safety. As some Father, happened to say, “I would rather see my son dying on the border”. Doesn’t this sum up the state these parents are in and definitely feel cheated by their own Nation.

Hari Singh’s Villagers proud of martyrdom, blast Pakistan’s effigy

At the same time, when the crowd started crying after seeing the crowd 10 month old son and family, the son too was In-consoleable. Additional Director General of Police Shrikant Jadhav tried to silence him in his lap. Earlier, the crowd of people accompanying the vehicle carrying the body of the body was also expressing anger and national love, boiling within them. It seemed as though not only the entire Rewari district, but the attitude of the people of Alwar district adjacent to the border has also turned towards Rajgadh.In India, the shouts of Bharat Mata were echoing and people were shouting slogans of Pakistan Mudarabad.

Hari Singh was admitted to Army in 2011

Hari Singh Rajput, 26, was admitted as a grenadier in 2011. Recently he was promoted to the post of Nayak. Hari’s father Agrawi Ram was also retired from the army. He had died two years ago. Hari was the only brother of three sisters. He was married two years ago. In the family, mother Pista Devi, wife Radha and son of 10 months Laksh. Hari Singh talked to his wife Radha on the phone last evening at 7.30 in the evening.

Amidst this grave tragedy, we can remember various solutions, presented to tackle the issue of terrorism from across border. One such solution by Baba Ram Rahim Ji, has been to declare Pakistan as terrorist state. And one blow to economy will break their spine. Baba Ram Rahim Ji has also included taking care of the Army’s families, their kids, with groceries, education, building homes donating blood for the injured, all these are a part of 134 welfare activities. What’s more, Baba Gurmeet ram Rahim Singh Ji Insan, has been actively respecting the soldiers with medals, and trophies for their unmatched bravery and sacrifice for the Nation.

Original Posted: http://www.newshonk.in/salute-to-martyrs-who-laid-their-lives-in-pulwama-attack/

#Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh #Baba Ram Rahim

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travels-with-chris · 7 years

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Minsk After a good night sleep we were up and out, firstly, changing some more money for Belarusian Roubles. We changed up £100 as you can not swap the currency back once you leave the country. After passing some Soviet style murals on a nearby KFC, quite contradictory, we walked past the Minsk Sports Palace and onto the Island of Tears. Here a monument commemorates the young Belarusian who died fighting for the Soviets in Afghanistan and have been largely forgotten. From the Soviet symbolism here, to the dove of peace statue on the way to the Holy Spirit Cathedral, centre of the Belarusian Orthodox church and oldest in Minsk. After dodging a lady that seemed to have taken an interest in Richard, we viewed Liberty Square containing the town hall, a few churches and a theatre, all of which had been rebuilt, mainly due to the Second World War yet still retained a charm of a time gone by. We thought we had reached the main square (more on that later), however, it was October Square, named after the October Revolution. The Palace of the Republic is used for conferences and exhibitions, Museum of the Great Patriotic War, House of Officers, Trade Unions Palace of Culture, as well as the former Communist Party headquarters now converted into the Presidents Palace. It was a lot to take in but there was more to see still as we continued down Independence Avenue, passing to the Victory Column. Belarus lost 25% of it's population during World War Two, it was awarded Hero City status by the Soviets (one of twelve cities to receive this honour), for the resistance. There is now an eternal flame added at the front, which we reached by using the subway to appear in front of the monument. Our final stop on our first full day was an unusual one, to the former apartment of Lee Harvey Oswald. Leaving America in 1959, he arrived in the USSR, denounced his US citizenship, whereby he was sent to Minsk, married and had a child before leaving for the USA in 1962, before assassinating JFK in 1963. Nothing marks this apartment but you are advised his was the bottom left hand apartment in a block not too far from the war memorial. On our way back to the apartment we passed Gorky Park & the building which hosts the State Circus of Belarus and the vast and grand KGB building. Unlike our previous visit to a museum of the KGB, this is still fully functioning here and not even subtly hidden away but out on display. As we sat opposite on a bench I couldn't help but take a picture, however, passing a parked car with a man on the radio did give me concern. Once home the heavens opened and we saw the roads flow with torrents of water. Once this had stopped and after a few vodkas (when in Minsk) we walked a very short distance to Pinta VIP, a bar Richard had found on a 'live like a local site.' It was Soviet themed and with no Russian from us and little English from the staff, we sat in the smoking side, drinking from a large litre of beer for me and a menthol beer for Richard. Ordering food was hard and we ended up with fried bread, chips and some chicken pieces, we think! The next day on our way out we passed the police station, which had a yard of vintage police cars on display. It was back to October Square as in the basement was a museum called mini land. With 18 models of well known places in Belarus, it is advised that you visit if not travelling beyond Minsk. The trouble was we saw some sights there we had not seen in real life, so our plan for the day changed. So much so that after a coffee and cake to get over the shock we headed to the Church of Saint Simon and Saint Helena, also known as the Red Church. Built out of clay bricks, to give it a red appearance, it was originally intended to honour a rich landowners two deceased children, Simon & Helena, it underwent many uses before being returned as a church and only in 2006 were the earthly remains of the parents reburied in the church. As we meandered around outside, passing various government buildings, including the statue of Lenin that we were strictly not allowed to photograph, we discovered one road behind us was our apartment. Yes all along we had been one road away from the church and government buildings and never known. Luckily as we were in this part of town we are able to see the City Gates. Two 11 storey buildings resemble ancient castle, though one had a clock on it, the largest in Belarus and we found out people live in the towers still. In a big walking day, we then went back to October Square passing on the other side of the road, military buildings that included a tank on display. We crossed the road again and entered and exited Janki Kupaly park, trying to locate Victory Park. Instead we found the opera building and fountain, which was a pleasant distraction from all this walking. By now we needed lunch and found a little restaurant, however, communication fell down once more and whilst Chris had a nice hot meat pancake dish, which arrived fifteen minutes before Richards, the other plate was meat. We think ham, bacon, pepperoni, maybe beef, but it was quite tough going. After the chance to regroup we found out we were going the wrong way and after a change of direction found Victory Park. Here the monument Obelisk to Hero City Minsk can be found. Built in 1984 to commemorate 40 years of victory in the Great Patriotic War, depicting a bronze women with trumpet beside the obelisk. Here the Gold Star Medal and Order of Lenin, two of the highest decoration the Soviets awarded to hero cities are displayed. A Soviet flag still flies nearby and there are other monuments near the biggest park in Minsk, as well as a fountain and lake. We had passed the Belarus State Circus on day one and found out a ticket was only the equivalent of €10, so decided to go on our last night. There were a lot of exited children but as we took our seats, with a great view, we had mixed emotions of a anticipation and guilt as we were aware there were some animals performing. From goats that sat on stalls, to poodles that danced as well as ferrets, at times it was uncomfortable. None more so than when bison native to these parts appeared with bears on their backs. We lived in an apartment like locals and wanted to see and do what the locals did. Aside from this there were acrobats, clowns and illusions that made for an entertaining and different night. Finally after seeing the impressive National Library of Belarus in miniature format earlier in the day, we got the metro out to see it at dusk. It is in the shape of a Rhombicuboctahedron (Google that) & is supposed to be lit up at night with LED lighting, but sadly not the night we were there. After jumping on the metro towards home, we consoled ourselves with a final visit to our local bar for a final time and even had the privilege of sitting in the non smoking side. All in all we really enjoyed our time here, more so than Ukraine, as we found the people to be friendly and welcoming and there to be far more things to see and do than we imagined, it was well worth a visit!

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pamphletstoinspire · 7 years

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Our Universal Mother

Part 53 - Our Lady of the Cape - Queen of the Holy Rosary - Queen of Canada

The Heart of Our Lady of the Cape teaches us the most beautiful love from the most beautiful heart: that of our Heavenly Mother.

The statue of Our Lady of the Cape, seen on the cover, was given to the Shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine, Que., in 1854, the same year as the proclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. We therefore celebrated in 2004 the 150th Anniversary of both events. This very same statue is still venerated in the Shrine today.

The shrine of Our Lady of the Cape or Notre-Dame-du-Cap is located on the St. Lawrence River in the town of cap-de-la-Madeleine (Quebec), halfway between Montreal and Quebec City. It is one of Canada’s most visited shrines, since it is dedicated to Our Lady of the Rosary, Queen of Canada. The history of this shrine shows that when the faithful abandon the practice of the Rosary, everything collapses in families and society. As Pope John Paul II said, we must return to the practice of the daily recitation of the Rosary in the families, for the survival of peoples and nations.

Historical Background

French explorer Jacques Cartier, sailing the majestic St. Lawrence River, in 1535, had planted the Cross of Christ on one of the islands of the St. Maurice River, that separates the present cities of Trois-Rivieres (Three Rivers) and Cap-de-la-Madeleine. This was on October 7, which was to be proclaimed a few years later, by Pope Pius V, the Feast of the Holy Rosary.

Master Jacques de la Ferté, a priest of St. Marie Madeleine of Chateaudun, in France, and a member of the Company of the One Hundred Associates, received a plot called the Cape of Trois-Rivieres. In 1651, Master de la Ferté gave to the Jesuit Fathers, the first missionaries in the area, a domain, asking them to establish there a center of missions for the native peoples who went there every year to trade furs. In remembrance of the first owner, the Jesuits called the place Cap-de-la-Madeleine.

In the first years, this land was blessed with the passage of Fathers Brebeuf, Daniel, and Lalemant - three of the eight North American martyrs canonized in 1930. For 18 years, Father Jacques Buteux was the main apostle of this settlement, and was martyred there by the Iroquois in 1652.

In 1659, a modest wooden chapel was erected by the governor of Trois-Rivieres, Pierre Boucher. It was given in 1661 to the new parish of St. Mary Magdalene, which inaugurated the devotion to Our Lady.

Cap-de-la-Madeleine was created a parish on October 30, 1867 by Blessed François de Laval, the first Bishop of Quebec City. In 1694, a Confraternity of the Rosary is established in the parish. Bishop de Saint-Vallier, the successor of François de Laval, wanted to replace the wooden parish church with a stone church, but the parishioners had to ask the financial aid of the other settlements in Canada at that time: Quebec City, Ville Marie (Montreal), and Trois-Rivieres. Our Lady was already establishing the foundations of a national shrine.

The "birth certificate" of the Shrine of the Queen of the Most Holy Rosary is signed on May 13, 1714, by Bishop of Saint-Vallier, of Quebec City. It was opened to the cult in 1720, and as of 2004, is the oldest church in Canada that has retained its primitive state.

Flourishing at its beginning, the Confraternity of the Rosary experienced serious flagging one century later, due to the lack of zeal of a priest. The recitation of the Rosary was abandoned, and the parishioners did not even go to Mass on Sundays. Deprived of his Protectress and of zealous pastors, the morals of the population declined, as history has shown in every country.

The 150th Anniversary of the Immaculate Conception and of the Statue of Our Lady of the Cape

In 1854, the year of the proclamation of the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary, Our Lady inspires Zephirin Dorval, a generous parishioner of Cap-de-la-Madeleine, to donate to the shrine a statue of the Madonna as She appeared to Catherine Laboure in 1830. This event is known as the Miraculous Medal Apparition. It shows Mary without the Child Jesus, Her arms outstretched toward the people, standing on a half-globe, Her foot/heal crushing the head of the snake. (cf Gen 3:15.) It is one of eleven identical statues made in Canada by an unknown Italian sculptor. The meaning of the burning heart of Mary is one of burning love beating in union with the heart of Her son, and partaking in His suffering.

The other characteristic element of the statue of Our Lady of the Cape is Her crown. As we will see later, it was added in 1904 to commemorate the 50th Anniversary of the definition of the Immaculate Conception. The coronation honors and highlights, in particular, the miraculous character of the statue. In fact, since the ice-bridge miracle of 1878, and the prodigy of the eyes of 1888, this statue of Our Lady has been considered miraculous.

The task of the new priest, Luc Désilets, was to arouse the languid faith of his parishioners, who had been without a parish priest for more than a century. When he arrived, the population of Cap-de-la-Madeleine was about one-thousand strong. One day, something strange attracted Father Désilets’ attention. He was returning from the sacristy, where he had been hearing confessions, and stopped in the church for a moment to pray. It was the eve of the Feast of the Ascension, in 1867, but the church was empty. Suddenly, the priest was astonished to see a pig with a Rosary between its teeth. The thought came to him unbidden: "The Rosary falls from men’s hands to be picked up by the swine." It was subsequent to this curious incident that Father Désillets decided to propagate the devotion to the Rosary, and he dedicated himself to Our Lady of the Rosary on November 5, 1867.

Gradually, enthusiasm began to awaken; and the drowsy faith shook off it lethargy. The Rosary Society enjoyed renewed popularity, and the tiny 1714 church, which could barely hold a congregation of 60, became too small for the parish. People began to talk of a new church, the third in the history of the parish. Unfortunately, money was scarce; as for building stone, it was only to be found on the opposite shore of the St. Lawrence River. Nonetheless, the project of a new church was approved by the church wardens in the fall of 1878. The stone was cut and dressed on the south shore, ready to be carted over the frozen river once winter set in. But the winter of 1878-79 was temperate...and the parish could not afford the luxury of having the stone ferried across the waters.

The wardens wanted to demolish the first church built in 1714 and use the stones to build the new church, but Father Desilets made this vow to the Virgin Mary: "If You grant us solid ice on the river by the Feast of St. Joseph, we will not destroy Your small church, and we will dedicate it to Your Holy Rosary."

THE MIRACLE OF THE ICE BRIDGE IN 1879

The Shrine of Our Lady of the Cap or Cap de la Madeleine had a miracle of note in its origin, called the Ice Bridge Miracle.

In November, Father luc Désilets asked the people to pray that a bridge of ice form on the river, so that the building blocks could be carried across. Everyone began praying. The young associate pastor, Father Duquay, each day, prayed the Rosary at a side chapel, in front of the altar of the Brotherhood of the Most Holy Rosary, at the feet of Our Lady of the Cap. March came and a high wind began to break up the ice blocking the mouth of the Saint-Maurice River to the south and the north shore of the St. Lawrence River. The ice began to drift downstream to the Cap de la Madeleine. It was covering the river several hundred feet from the church.

That Sunday, March 17th, Feast of St. Patrick, Father Duquay told the parishioners that there would be a High Mass for the feast of St. Joseph on March 19th, petitioning Jesus’ foster father to ask his Son to form a bridge of ice! He also invited the men to come with him to survey the river.

When they arrived, they saw that the river was covered with a thin layer of ice floating among drifts of snow. They went from spot to spot, looking for blocks of ice floating closely together. They had gone about 1000 feet with no success, when they spotted two of the guides heading upriver to the south shore. Father joined them. Only Father Duquay and the two guides dared continue, the ice was so thin and treacherous.

Having arrived at the south shore, Firmin Cadotte (one of the guides) crawled forward, feeling in the icy waters for a piece of ice that could carry his weight. He persisted and then was joined by thirty other men who began working alongside one another to form a 1600 foot stretch of ice along the river, wide enough for two carts carrying stones to pass one another. At 11 p.m., they returned to the sacristy and Father asked, "Well men, what are we going to do now?" A plan was formulated whereby they would pour water over the thin bridge of ice that had formed and, upon freezing, pour more water over it until it would become thicker, and when it was thick enough to carry the weight of the carts and stones, they would begin carting the stones across the river.

It was the following morning, March 18th, at 3 a.m., when the men returned to the river’s edge and went back to work on the ice. Now considering how temperate it had been and that it was now March, it was nothing short of a miracle that the bridge was now solid enough to walk on! Men kept pouring water on the ice. It was now 6 inches thick! Encouraged, seeing a possible light at the end of the tunnel, they kept on pouring water.

March 19th, Feast of St. Joseph, just as they were trying to decide where the opening should be made for the carts to travel, as much snow had fallen during the night blocking the way, what did they see coming across the bridge of ice? The first cart carrying blocks of stone! This cart was followed by other carts, until by Sunday 175 sleighs carrying stones had passed.

The men had carted 1000 feet of dressed stone plus enough stone for a foundation. Father Duquay ordered all work to stop. God had answered their prayers; it was time to say Thank You, Lord. That day, the bridge was given the name it carries till today, The Bridge of the Rosary.

One of the workers said, " It was quite extraordinary, a real miracle. It defied common sense." And when Father Désilets saw what had come to pass, he said, " Is this not a clear sign of Heavenly intervention? Can one not manifestly see the Finger of God?"

To this day, many, many people still make a pilgrimage to Canada to visit this very beautiful and powerful Shrine and Rosary Bridge in honor of Our Lady.

#our universal mother

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elevenhoursinfront-blog · 7 years

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25th April 2017

My alarm went off at 0500. Am I mental? Honestly, this time, I had never been so tired in my entire life! I rolled over and got up. Steve and I got all our stuff out the night before so we didn't wake anyone up whilst we were getting ready. I say 'getting ready' but I mean chucking on clothes and hoping we didn't smell. I woke Steve up who opened only one eye and shook his head no. He went back to sleep straight away. I got dressed and looked outside the window. Pitch black and p***ing down. Great! I put Steve's hoody on with jeans and my rain coat. I met Meg on the ground floor at 0530. We left in the cold, rain and dark to make our way to the Shrine Of Remembrance. For the first time ever, I actually felt like I was at home. We walked to the tram stop and got on from Fed Square for two stops. We got to the memorial service with about 15 minutes to spare. There were thousands of people. We were all traipsing across the mud in the dark and wet heading towards the front of the 'stage' if you like. They had a TV screen on explaining what ANZAC is and what happened. Meg and I tried to get as close to the front as possible. The ceremony started at 0600 on the dot. We all stood in the rain, in absolute silence. It was hard not to get emotional. There were speeches and an orchestra that played a few different songs. The New Zealand and Australian national anthem was played also towards the end. I was looking forward to seeing the sunrise during the service but because the weather was so miserable, it was a grey sky straight away. The ceremony ended and we had the opportunity to go into the Shrine Of Remembrance to lay down a poppy so we queued up. We went and saw the big fire too. As we queued up to get into the Shrine, there was a lady presenting from 7 News behind us. I'm sure Meg and I was on the news as we walked past but I haven't had a look yet. All the roads were shut and there were hundreds of people in uniform and/or with medals. The army barracks were serving breakfast for donations too which looked amazing. Eggs, bacon, beans... We weren't hungry yet though. I was so pleased I went. It was wonderful to stand and commemorate the service and sacrifice of all the Australian men and women. Honouring and reflecting on the impact of war, conflict and peacekeeping. We were back to the hostel by 0730/0800. We had some breakfast and a glass of milk. By this point, I felt like death (not even warmed up). We both went to have a nap. I got into my room around 0830 and Steve was awake. I told him I was having a quick sleep and to wake me soon (deep down I was hoping he'd forget I was asleep and leave me until 1500). He went down for a coffee but he wasn't hungry. He was with Mel and Sophie deciding what to do for the day. He asked Sophie when a reasonable time to wake me up would be - she said 1030. By 1030, he woke me up. Now I felt like death warmed up. I asked Steve for a coffee from 7/11 so he left and I laid there for 5-10 minutes longer. He returned... and forgot my coffee. I'm not sure how but I don't ask questions because I would rather not know. He left again and returned shortly after, with coffee. They decided that we should go bowling to pass the time of the bank holiday. Everyone was off work so why not. Meeting in the kitchen at 1330. Mel came up to my room to use the hairdryer and get ready to meet her friend for coffee an hour before bowling. She would be bringing her friend, Lily, along too. We chatted for awhile, mostly about people. Aimee, Cherry and Imogen left for Cairns during the week. Lauren has booked her flight home to Newcastle for Thursday. She hates Australia and thinks it's the most overrated country. I kind of see where she's coming from - the landmarks and scenery is amazing, but they're literally 20 years behind and twice as expensive. Mel left the room and Megan came up. She woke up from her nap at 1200. I wish I slept that long. We chatted around planning things to do in the future when we had jobs, and money, and time, and pretty much everything we don't have at the moment! Megan left to get ready and I got my behind into gear. Washed and ready for the 1330 meet. I made it down for 1345 which wasn't too bad considering Meg didn't leave until 1305. There was a massive group of us heading to bowling which is exciting. I'm poor at this game though. Megan, Dan, Mel, Sophie, Lily, Lauren, Kyle, Tom, Jess, Steve and I left for the 15 minute walk to Melbourne Central. We got there and they said it would be an hour and 45 minute wait. They then said it would be 20 minutes so I'm not sure what happened there. We all got changed into the super sexy shoes and made our way to lanes 9 & 10. Megan, Dan, Steve and Sophie were with me on 10 and the rest were on 9. We were within the same pod though so it was good. On my third and forth go, I got two strikes in a row. I felt like Jesus after he came back to life (or so what I'd imagine it to feel like). I was jumping and clapping as were my fans Megan and Sophie. The game continued for quite sometime and coincidently during happy hour. $5 alcoholic beverages! I got another strike and a few spares. I was on fire. There was no stopping me. I felt like I was winning gold for England at the 2012 Olympics. The game ended and I came... First!!! First out of my group and the other group! I got 131 and Dan got 115. It was a competition between us two at the end until I got another strike. Nobody else got above 95. My bubble was beaming. I told everyone that I would be doing autographs at 1630 should they wish to form an orderly queue. My acceptance speech would go something like 'I'd like to thank my Mum, Dad, Ange and Taz'. Never in my life have I ever came close to winning, or in fact, a strike. I remember playing bowling on the Wii in the living room at home. As I went to 'bowl', I swung my hand way too high and smashed the ceiling lights. Oops. We all left for $5 dominoes on the way home. Steve done really bad at bowling, coming nearly last. Some would say he didn't have his glasses on. Very strange as he usually comes first or near too. We walked home with our pizzas and sat in the kitchen for a couple of hours chilling out. It was 1730/1800 by this time and I was getting tired. Sophie went to watch pretty woman in the TV room, Mel went out on a date, Megan went to watch 48 hours. Steve and I went to Aldi to do a quick, small food shop. We had all agreed to meet in the kitchen for 2000 for bedtime tea, biscuits and chocolate. The best thing about living in a hostel. Dan came up to the room to chill with Steve and I. There's a right bromance going on there. I got kicked out of the bed and they both laid there chilling! They're not on the same job together tomorrow anymore. Steve got moved to something different but he's being paid $1 more each hour which is good. We went downstairs at 2000 and made tea. We had bought a bag of cookies for $2 for the kids to share. Steve and I have been nominated 'Mum and Dad' of the group. Considering I'm the youngest out of everyone here, they think I'm the most mature (unless I win bowling...) We sat around chilling until 2130 when Steve and I went up to bed. We both had new books to read. Cherry left behind a few including 'An Idiot Abroad'. Steve wanted to read it (it speaks for itself, right?). I really want Steve to get into reading more. I managed to get him reading autobiographies but he only nearly finished 1. He laid down and read this book for an hour before feeling really tired. He was laughing away which was nice to hear too. My goal would be to get him to pick up the book instead of his phone or PS4 without me mentioning it purely because he's enjoying something so much, that he can't put it down. Steve's up for work at 0600 and I have made a plan regarding the call centre. They told me that they would call to confirm I was coming in on Wednesday. I haven't received any call so I'm going to miss tomorrow. I'll be ringing the recruitment company that Mel and Sophie are with instead. If OzGreen (call centre company) call me and ask where I am, I'm going to say that I never received a call like I was told I would, therefore I thought I didn't get the job. That way I still get the chance to go in and start properly if needs be. Steve said if I'm dreading the job already, it'll only make me more sad as the days go on. I'll end up wanting to go home. Fingers cross for something, anything positive tomorrow.

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yoi-secret-valentines2017 · 7 years

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For @natsu-sky!

The funny thing about winning is that without losing, winning isn’t so great. This was something Victor Nikiforov, at the ripe age of 14, was beginning to realize more and more. Sure, it was nice to win, but not as nice as it used to be. He used to be ecstatic at every gold medal awarded to him. Now, he smiled graciously, accepted his award and posed appropriately for the cameras before tossing it on the shelf with all the others. Victor had seriously started to wonder what he could possibly do in order to not win. He considered throwing a competition. It wouldn’t be all the difficult. All he’d have to do is flub a few jumps, maybe fake a fall. With his performance components, he’s probably still make it to the podium with a silver. He could even try for bronze if he really sold it. But then he realized that Yakov would definitely know if he deliberately tried to lose and Victor really didn’t want to have to deal with that lecture. Next, he had considered maybe joining the senior level early. He was a year too young to start competing in the division, but maybe with his skill the ISU would let him join anyway. There had to be someone, anyone, in the senior division who could beat him. Some of them were much older than he was, so certainly their experience would be able to beat his talent. At least, that’s what he thought until the Russian Nationals. He had skated circles around competitors ten years his senior. So, there went Plan B and he only really had two plans, so now he was left with nothing.

It’s was a stupid problem to have, really: winning too much. But it genuinely concerned him. If he felt like this now, how would he feel three years from now, ten years from now, thirteen years from now? If his career went on for as long as Yakov said it would, then this trend could go on for years, decades even. It was almost enough to make him want to quit, even if Victor knew deep down that he was much too cowardly for that. Until he found the solution (or the courage to call it quits), the only thing he could do was keep skating.

The competition in Japan hadn’t been particularly challenging, which came as no surprise. After winning against skaters years older than him in the Russian Nationals, competing in the Junior International division was a cake walk. His routine for both the short program and the free program had been flawless and Yakov had been pleased. Victor wished he could partake in his coach’s pride but all he felt was detached. Before he knew it, he was standing at the top of the podium with the gold medal around his neck and an artificial smile on his face.

As he and his coach were heading out of the venue, a few fans ran up to him and asked for autographs and pictures. Never one to turn away a fan, Victor happily obliged. This was much to the chagrin of Yakov, who stood off the the side with a sour look on his face.

“Vitya, we don’t have time for this,” he growled gruffly.

“Relax, Yakov,” Victor said, shooting him a pacifying smiling, “It’s just a few pictures. How long could it possibly take?”

Apparently, the universe wanted Victor to eat those words because as soon as he had finished taking pictures and signing autographs for those fans, some more showed up with the same request. Then some more. Then some more. Soon enough a line was forming with what must have been at least forty people in it. Luckily, Victor had received his fair share of practice with handling crowds of fans, so he wasn’t daunted by the line. He maintained his polite demeanor, thanking them for their support, signing autographs and taking pictures. It seemed to be an endless barrage of signing and picture taking and soon enough Victor found himself to be slipping into a kind of automated state of trying to be mannerly. It wasn’t until there was a pause in the barrage that Victor woke up a bit from his state.

Standing at the front of the line was a Japanese boy with bright red, round cheeks and thick glasses. He looked nervous and had his back turned as he frantically spoke to his friends, almost as if he was trying to convince them that they should leave. He clearly hadn’t realized that he was now at the very front of the line. As quietly as he could, Victor moved so that he was standing right behind the boy. Seemingly to have noticed the increased proximity at his back, the boy turned around then promptly squeaked in surprise at the sight of Victor standing so close to him. How cute!

“Hello,” he greeted the boy with a charming smile.

“H-Hello”, the boy returned in wobbling English.

“Would you like a commemorative photo? Maybe an autograph?”, Victor asked.

The boy’s mouth opened and closed a few times in frantic attempt to form the correct words before he turned toward the girl about his age that stood behind him for help. They spoke to each other in rapid Japanese before the girl spoke, “Yuuri’s English speaking isn’t very good. But he wanted to tell you that he thought your whole routine was incredible.”

“That’s very kind of you, Yuuri,” he said, nodding gratefully at the boy. The shy boy’s cheeks seemed to get even redder as he averted his eyes and mumbled to the girl.

“And that he hopes he can be as good of a skater as you one day.”

Oh? That was surprising. This boy seemed far too shy and nervous to be a figure skater. How on Earth did he deal will people watching him while he performed if he could hardly handle Victor maintaining eye contact?

“You skate?”, Victor asked curiously. The boy shrugged his shoulders not committally, keeping his gaze firmly on the ground.

“Yes! We all do at the same skate club,” she explained cheerfully, gesturing to Yuuri and to another boy about their age who looked less than thrilled to be there.

“Do you compete?”

“I do and so does Takeshi. Yuuri hasn’t decided if he wants to yet. He doesn’t think he’s good enough.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think he should! He copies your routines all time and does them pretty well. It would be good for him.” Yuuri, upon hearing his friend discuss his skating without him, exclaimed in mortification.

For some reason, that little tidbit of information made the smile on Victor face grow twice as large. Ignoring Yuuri’s outburst, Victor gasped delightedly and exclaimed, “You copy me? How flattering!”

“You should watch him skate!” the girl suggested excitedly, “We have practice tomorrow. You could come and watch.”

Immediately, Yuuri jumped forward between them, waving his arms frantically as he exclaimed in heavily accented English, “No no no no! It’s okay! You do not have to!”

Much to his own surprise, Victor was actually considering it. Usually he would have simply laughed and politely declined. But…. this Yuuri kid intrigued him. He was unbearably shy and had the demeanor of a baby deer. Yet, he skated Victor’s programs. His programs which exuded confidence with every glide of a skate. Did Yuuri skate the program with a timid nature about him, bringing an entirely new meaning to the routine?… Or did he transform into a skater with complete command over the ice? Now that was something Victor wanted to see.

“I’ll come,” he announces then gives Yuuri a teasing smile, “I have to make sure that you don’t skate my routines better than me.”

Yuuri’s entire face erupted in a blush but before Victor could properly appreciate how absolutely adorable it was, Yakov was shouting in his ear.

“Vitya! You can’t go running around with some kids! We have a flight back to Russia tomorrow!”, his coach exclaimed gruffly.

“Our flight isn’t until evening. I have the entire day free,” Victor returned with a innocent smile before turning back toward Yuuri and his friends, “I’ll be there.”

He could practically feel Yakov’s rage radiating from him but chose to ignore it in favor of getting Yuuri’s friend, whose name is Yuuko as it turns out, to write the address of their skate club and time of their practice on his hand. After exchanging goodbyes and Victor reaffirmed his promise of going to their practice tomorrow, Yuuri and his friends went on their way. And if Victor caught Yuuri looking back at him with his face red as borscht, well that was no one’s business.

“You’re not going to that boy’s practice tomorrow.”

“But Yakovvvvvvv, I have to! I promised!”

“Stop whining, Vitya. You have to pack and get ready for the flight… Enough with the pouting!”

“Alriiiiiight, Yakov. I won’t go.”

That was a lie, he was definitely going.

The next morning, Victor set his alarm early and snuck out of his hotel room. With his room directly adjacent to his coach’s, he would have to be extra quiet or risk being heard. With a backpack with his skates, his wallet and his passport on his back, he tip-toed over to Yakov’s door then shoved a note under the door. There was no way that Victor would get back before Yakov woke up, so the best thing for him to do would be to tell him that he had gone out and he would be back in time for their flight. While this would not protect him from his coach’s fury, it may dull the intensity just a little.

Getting to Hasetsu Station was the tricky part. His Japanese wasn’t great and it was nearly impossible to read the boards at the train station that told him which train to take. Luckily, after asking around, he was directed to the correct train and soon enough he was off toward Hasetsu Station. For some reason, Victor was nervous. Which was weird because he hardly ever got nervous. Why would he be nervous? They’re his fans. If anyone should be nervous, it should be them. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he was on his own in a foreign country where he hardly spoke the language going to see a boy he had met only once before and he had no idea how he would react to Victor showing up. Maybe…

After about a two hour train ride and asking around again for directions, Victor found himself at Ice Castle Hasetsu. The walk from Hasestu Station to the ice rink hadn’t been far and the young figure skater had managed to there in only twenty minutes. The rink was nothing like any of the rinks he had skated at in Russia. It was tiny in comparison to the one he trained at in St. Petersburg. It seemed a little too cutesy to be housing serious athletes. Suddenly it hit Victor that the kids he had meet yesterday weren’t athletes. Well, not professional ones like he was. They skated for fun. Victor could hardly remember what that was like. How long had it been since he had skated just for fun? For a few quiet moments, Victor just stood staring up at the ice rink, remembering times that felt like they had occurred decades ago instead of just a few years ago.

Shaking himself out of those thoughts, Victor checked the time and winced. 10:25 am. He was a little late but better late than never. Adjusting the backpack on his shoulder, Victor took a deep breath (definitely not because he was nervous or anything) and ascended the stairs. Walking into the ice rink, he was struck by how empty it was. There was only one person in the front office, an elderly woman who waved at him as he came in, and the changing room was completely devoid of people. He was beginning to wonder if maybe he had gotten pranked when he heard faint voices coming from behind a set of double doors. Cautiously pushing them open, he was relieved to see three figures skating leisurely on the ice. Yuuko was skating in lazy figure eights around the rink, just warming up. The stocky boy from yesterday was gliding about the ice as he stretched out his shoulders and arms. And in the center of the ice practicing spins was- “Yuuri!”, he shouted, waving his arms in greeting. Yuuri, startled by the shout, immediately lost his balance and ended up sprawled on the ice.

“You came!” Yuuko exclaimed, skating over toward Victor.

“Of course I did! I promised,” he said, giving her a dazzling smile.

“I thought your coach didn’t want you to come,” the stocky Japanese boy, Takeshi, said as he skated over to them with his arms crossed.

“Yakov? No, no. He was fine with it. He’s surprisingly understanding,” the figure skater assured them. “When he’s not awake…”, he added in his head.

Takeshi gave him an incredulous look but said nothing.

Yuuri, having picked himself up off the ice, skated over toward them. “Hello,” he muttered, averting his eyes.

“Hi Yuuri,” Victor says returning the greeting before smiling teasingly, “So, how about you show me that program?”

Yuuri was nervous and Victor could tell all the way from where he was leaning against the barricade. He kept glancing over at Victor and no matter how many smiles Victor gave him, it didn’t seem to dissipate his nerves. Why was he so nervous? It wasn’t like Victor was expecting perfection or anything, he wasn’t Yakov.

“Yuuri, are you ready?”, Yuuko asked, standing next to Victor and smiling encouragingly.

The shy Japanese boy nods and gets into position. A starting position that Victor recognizes immediately. It was the free program that he performed at the Russian Nationals. The routine that had won him gold at the competition yesterday. It was a slow, elegant skating routine with delicate spins and perfectly choreographed step sequences. And Yuuri was performing it as well as Victor ever could have. His spins were solid and his step sequences, while not perfect, grabbed your attention. When it came to jumps, he certainly struggled. Even with having lowered the difficulty of the jumps, Yuuri flubbed the majority of them. But Victor couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. The entire world could come crashing down around him and he wouldn’t care about anything other than the skater in front of him. It made Victor wonder why Yuuri had so little faith in his skating. While he was by no means a professional athlete, there were certainly the beginnings of an incredible skating ability there. It made Victor want to push him. It made Victor want to help him. It made Victor want to see him on a podium with a gold medal around his neck.

Once Yuuri finished the routine, Victor clapped as enthusiastically as he could. What else could he do after a performance like that? Yuuri looked a little startled, as if he had forgotten that he as being watched.

“Bravo, Yuuri! Amazing! Why didn’t you tell me you could skate like that?”, Victor praised, an amazed smile on his face.

Yuuri, blushing bright red from the compliments, shook his head, “No… it’s bad.”

Victor’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? You were incredible. You have a lot of talent!”

Yuuri shook his head more vigorously, “I fell.”

“So what if you fell? That doesn’t matter, Yuuri! The rest of program was great!” Victor exclaimed. He had to admit that he was getting a little frustrated. Why was Yuuri so fixated on those failed jumps? The rest of the program was incredible for someone his age to do so well.

The two of them stood in tense silence for a few moments, Victor looking slightly annoyed and Yuuri looking horribly disappointed. After too long of the two of them just standing in awkward silence, Yuuko intervened.

“Victor, you’re here for a few hours right?” she asked.

He nodded. “Or until Yakov finds me”, he thought to himself.

“Takeshi and I have to start practice soon but Yuuri doesn’t start until the afternoon. How about you teach Yuuri some jumps in the meantime?”

Yuuri seemed to pale and blush all in a matter of seconds and Victor was slightly concerned for his well being. It couldn’t possibly be healthy to turn that many shades that quickly. But sure, he could teach Yuuri some jumps. Maybe then he would finally realize what a good skater he was.

“Yeah, okay,” he grinned, “Come on, Yuuri. We can practice over here.”

Victor decided to focus on teaching Yuuri some low level jumps. Kids his age really shouldn’t be attempting jumps at all, but Victor was sure that Yuuri was more than capable of handling it. They’d start simple.

“Okay, we’ll start with a single toe loop,” he said with Yuuri eagerly nodding after him.

“It’s pretty simple, really. It’s one of the easiest jumps to master once you get it but it can be a little tricky at first. The trick is to go in using your left toe pick and land on your right foot. Here, I’ll show you what it looks like first.”

Victor skated around the length of their half of the rink before effortlessly producing a single toe loop. “Just like that,” he said, stopping in front of Yuuri, “Ready to try it?”

Despite looking slightly daunted by the task, the Japanese boy nodded enthusiastically.

The first time Yuuri tried it he didn’t get enough momentum and just ended up doing a strange hop-spin movement.

The second time Yuuri tried it he managed to do a tiny jump but his spin was almost nonexistent.

The third time Yuuri tried it he managed to get a higher jump and a little more spin, but flubbed the landing and ended up falling on his side.

While at first Victor had been concerned with Yuuri getting discouraged after messing up the jump so many times in a row, he quickly learned that was not the case. Every time Yuuri messed up the jump, he dusted himself off and tried again. Whenever he fell, Victor would give him adjustments or give him pointers, which Yuuri eagerly accepted. Watching Yuuri listen to his suggestions and implement them into his practice made something stir in Victor’s chest. An excitement about skating that he had been missing for quite some time. Yuuri’s determination and passion for skating made him want to care as much as he as used to. It made him want to care as much as Yuuri did.

Then, after about the thirtieth time, Yuuri landed the toe loop. It was perfect. His entry was flawless, he spun the correct way and his landing was secure and strong. There was no over rotation, no flaw in his footwork, no sprawling across the ice. Victor’s heart nearly exploded in joy.

“Yuuri!”, he exclaimed, embracing the boy in his excitement, “Yuuri, you did it!”

While Yuuri seemed a little uncomfortable at the physical affection, his dazzling grin showed his pride. Victor, overcome with his excitement, clutched the smaller boy closer and spun in glee, prompting both boys to giggle as they spun about the ice together. As they came a halt and their laughter petered off, the two boys just stood for a few moments, smiling at each other.

“Thank you, Victor,” Yuuri said, eyes shining with pride. And it was in that moment that a realization hit Victor.

He would care about figure skating more if it was Yuuri he was skating with. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was skate. He’d skate from morning till night if Yuuri was there to skate with him.

With a soft smile, Victor inclined his head toward the younger boy. “I think I should be thanking you.”

Yuuri’s brows furrowed in confusion but before he could say anything-

“VITYA!”

The enraged shout caused such a shock that Yuuri nearly lost his balance from his startle. Once Victor was sure that Yuuri wouldn’t fall over, he turned to see his coach rinkside, with his face redder than Victor had ever seen it.

“Ah, Yakov. I see you came to get me,” he said, an easy smile on his face.

“You deliberately disobeyed me after I told you that you weren’t going!”, his coach yelled.

“You should have expected this from me, coach. How long have we known each other?”

“You made me run all over the city to look for you!”

“I left a note.”

“You didn’t tell me where you were going in the note!”

“Oh… Well, you figured it out eventually. You’d make a good detective, Yakov!”

“Get off the ice now, Vitya! You better hope we make this flight back to Russia or your family will have to hire a detective to figure out what happened to you!”

“Come on, Yakov. Just a few more minutes?”

“NOW!”

After getting off the ice and changing his shoes, Victor stood at the entrance to the ice rink and said his goodbyes. Takeshi nodded at him and offered him a wave, which Victor considered a success in winning the grouchy guy over. Yuuko had hugged him and wished him a safe flight. The figure skater smiled at her and promised that he would come back as soon as he could, a promise which his coach prickled at. And then there was Yuuri. Yuuri, who had skated his gold-winning program at an age when Victor was still learning basics. Yuuri, who had given him his love for skating back. What could he possibly say to encapsulate just how grateful he was? Before Victor could even open his mouth to attempt to thank him, Yuuri bowed respectfully to him.

“Thank you, Victor. For teaching me. I had fun,” he said.

“I had fun too. You did great today. If you keep practicing that toe loop, you’ll be able to do a double or triple in no time…. And Yuuri?”

At the sound of his name, Yuuri looked up at Victor, curious.

The figure skater smiled as he grabbed Yuuri’s shoulders, “I look forward to skating on the same ice as you one day.”

The awed look on his face was almost too much to handle and before he could stop himself, Victor pressed a kiss onto the Japanese boy’s cheek.

“Dasvidaniya, Yuuri,” he muttered before Yakov was literally dragging him out the front doors of the ice rink.

While being dragged out of an ice rink by your coach isn’t the best way to conclude a farewell, Victor considered it worth it to see the spectacular blush on Yuuri’s face.

As Victor and his coach walked back to the train station, they walked in relative silence.

“Yakov?”, Victor asked, breaking the silence.

His coach grunted in acknowledgement, still brimming with anger from Victor’s earlier stunt.

“How soon can we go to the ice rink to practice after we get back to St. Petersburg?”

Caught slightly off guard by the question, Yakov turned to look at Victor with a raised eyebrow.

“The day after we land at the earliest… Why?”

“I just want to practice as soon as possible.”

“You hate practice, what makes you suddenly want to go? Did you hit your head on the ice?”

Victor simply shrugged, “There are somethings I need to work on. They need to be perfect if I want to stay competitive.”

“Vitya, you’re the top in your league. Who would you be competing against?”

“No one yet.” Victor then turned toward his coach with a grin on his face, “But you never know what kind of talent will pop up in the next few years.”

#yoi secret valentines #yuuri katsuki #viktor nikiforov #writing #submission

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goldeagleprice · 5 years

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Q. David Bowers on Bill Bierly’s In God We Trust

Bill Bierly’s In God We Trust is one of the most detailed, intricate, and fascinating books in the field of American numismatics—and in American history in general.

1864 two-cent piece, PF-65. Hover to zoom.

I also knew that the $5 Silver Certificates of the Series of 1886 illustrate the reverse of a Morgan silver dollar of that year, with the motto as part of the design.

Each of these books was popular in its time, despite their obviously obscure subjects. Readers find satisfaction in a well-told story that brings new depth and insight.

2009 Abraham Lincoln commemorative silver dollar Uncirculated obverse.

In God We Trust: The American Civil War, Money, Banking, and Religion

By William Bierly; foreword by Q. David Bowers

ISBN 0794845282

Hardcover, 6 x 9 inches, 352 pages, full color

Retail $29.95 U.S.

About the Author

Bierly resides in LaPorte, Indiana. He has two children, Emma and Ken, as well as a granddaughter, Kiki.

About Whitman Publishing

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