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#although i have heard that someone told their friend in the construction department of the local university and students might come out
chris-wonder · 2 years
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month three of living in this apartment complex and the communal laundry room still isnt accessible. the leasing office said they “were having trouble finding a contractor to build a ramp”
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mavkasilas · 2 years
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Assert the dominance with that M134.
At first, I was trying to write about a very protective Oliver that defences Percy in front of someone that tries to say bad about Percy, but then I fail. Instead of protective Oliver, I wrote a jealousy and protective and fully sarcastic Percy.
Do I like it? Of course hell yeah, love it very much.
Jealousy and sarcastic these 2 personality fits ma boy Percy so much. He's gentleman to everyone but if someone steps on his line, don't accuse his rudeness to you.
"What a lovely day, isn't it?"
Oliver left out a sigh. He gently puts down the polish tool and his flying broom on the bench. When he finished doing a mental construction for himself, he then turns his back and greets the owner of the voice that He’s been dodging all day long.
"Yeah, it's really good weather, Ms Everly."
"Oh, why are you so polite to me, Oliver? We had lunch last week, aren't we? I thought we are friends now."
Abigail Everly, the daughter of the Puddlemere's manager. The reason that Oliver tries to avoid her it's because she has a very strong interest in him. Even though he has told her that he's taken, it seems like in this lady's dictionary there's missing a vocabulary called give up.
"Call me Abby, please."
"...I'll still stick with Ms Everly."
"Alright, if you insist."
Oliver feels like his face nearly has a cramp because of the fake smile he puts on. Although he doesn't like Abigail Everly, he still can't find a way to avoid having a conversation between them. He's a person who talks directly from his mind. Oliver was scared something bad will happen to the team if his rejection broke the manager's daughter's heart.
"Are you free tonight?"
Here comes again, a date. A forced date.
"I'm afraid I'm not free tonight."
"Why? Is it a very important date that is even more important than having dinner with me?"
Of course, it is. Even the extra training schedule seems more important than your date.
"I'm sorry, Ms Abigail. Maybe-"
"Ollie?"
Oh, God! What good timing, here comes his lifesaver.
Oliver has been craving for the familiar touch and smell all day long. It's so good to have him here, especially in this kind of situation.
To Abigail Everly, Percy's appearance makes her kinda confuse. No one told her that Oliver's lover is a...... man? The man who works in the Ministry Department?
"You must be Mr Percy Weasley."
Percy looks at his man's face and then looks at Abigail, he then gently shakes the lady's hand.
"And you must be Ms Everly. I heard very much from Ollie, really grateful for what you and Mr Everly had sacrificed to Puddlemere. Without the sources from you, our Ollie might not fulfil his dream as Puddlemere's goalkeeper."
Although every action and every word from Percy mean so polite and grateful, Abigail couldn't feel any temperature from that dark brown eyes. This makes her spine shiver.
"Are you done? Hope you won't forget that the family gathering day is today."
"Fully done, free to go anytime."
"Ms Everly?"
Abigail Everly couldn't say anything but just respond like a student who is called by the strict teacher in the class.
"Yes?"
"It's nice to meet you and just for your information, I'm not Percy Weasley anymore."
"Pardon?"
"It's Percy Ignatius Wood. So, if we meet again I hope you can address me as Mr Wood instead of Mr Weasley. Don't get me wrong, I still love to be called a Weasley but don't you think Mr Wood is more lovely?"
Oliver didn't interrupt the conversation between Percy and Abigail Everly. He just stood beside quietly and swallow all his laughter into his stomach. What a savage iconic conversation, he definitely will share this to everyone when they arrive at the burrow.
"If there's nothing, I'll see you after the holiday, Ms Everly."
"O- Ok, a-alright. Wish you two a very happy holiday then."
As soon as Percy and Oliver leave the quidditch pitch, Abigail Everly can finally breathe. She doesn't even realise how long has she been holding her breath if Percy didn't leave.
She feels an urge to burn down the Daily Prophet? Percy Weasley is not as gentleman as what those journalists describe him on the Prophet.
He's a man that fill with jealousy.
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thedistantdusk · 4 years
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Hi, I’m the nonny! Thank you for such a kind response, it means a lot. I was thinking the year she’s back at school post DH and they’re rebuilding their relationship and dealing with the distance after being together all summer. Thank you again, I hope you’re doing well during this crazy time!
Nonny, I can only hope this provides you a bit of happiness right now and that I addressed the prompt! :D I’m so sorry you’re going through this and that everyone will find peace.  HUGE thanks to @floreatcastellumposts for reading this a billion times and Brit-picking and @el-eye-zee-aye for the same, but not the British parts! ;D Also on AO3. Not pure smut, but definitely M! __________ Harry wasn’t here last year. 
But he followed her everywhere, anyway. 
She spent most of a school year with his memory lingering in the shadows of every corridor. She could almost see his hands in his pockets, his expectant smile stretching as she approached and then faltering as she passed. She was haunted by his graveled moans from the corners of the quidditch pitch, his sharp gasps beneath the tree on the lawn, his low, reverberating pleas in empty cupboards they knew so well. And she didn’t realize it at the time, but that kept her going, really... his silent presence. The revenant of what they’d been before the world fell to shit. 
There are a few reasons why Ginny doesn’t think much about Phantom Harry during the summer after the war. First, she knows it’s a bit pathetic that she constructed it — constructed him — out of a relationship that lasted three weeks... although she’d fight anyone to the death who dared describe it as such, themselves.
Second, she’s away from school for months and thus lacks a real trigger. And third, she finds that Real Harry is infinitely more fun — especially when he’s in her arms and in her bed and doing all the things he’d once promised he’d do... even though he hadn’t said he’d do those things, either. They’d been quiet Harry things, the sorts of things he’d said with his eyes while he’d stared at her like he was drinking her in. The sorts of things he’d conveyed with a trail of his fingertips or a low groan. The sorts of things that were no less tangible for remaining silent. 
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. So after a summer of learning and discovering and rebuilding, there’s no small irony that Ginny and Hermione must return to Hogwarts to learn, discover, and rebuild. They stand on the platform on September the first with their respective boyfriends and share hurried, awkward farewell snogs and promise to send filthy letters — all while pretending the other girl isn’t doing the same. Together, they then make the doleful journey to the school that hasn’t been their proper home in ages, regardless of when they visited last. Together, they start a new-old life that’s both alien and familiar, both dull and soothing. 
Ginny and Hermione grow closer too. As the days turn to weeks, Ginny wonders if they’re more compatible as friends now because Hermione’s finally loosened up just as Ginny’s started to take non-quidditch topics a bit more seriously. Living under Death Eater rule was roughly comparable to living with Tom in her head, but it nonetheless taught Ginny a series of valuable lessons about holding onto anger versus letting things go. 
This too, perhaps, is why it takes until a Hogsmeade visit in October for Ginny to realize what’s missing — or more aptly, who’s missing. 
Harry and Ron greet them just at the entrance of the Hogsmeade gates. Just like when they’d departed at the start of term, they each share awkward, hurried snogs of greeting and pretend they aren’t desperate for activities they can’t do in front of their siblings. 
Ron and Hermione, however, seem to take this social norm as a suggestion rather than a rule. Ginny vaguely hears them shuffle off behind a shrub, and Harry takes the cue to lift her against him, duck-walk them across a path, and put her down in the shadow of the apothecary, all without breaking a kiss. He smells warm and fresh, like broom polish and soap and Harry, and she doesn’t mind at all when she feels extra definition in the arms that he uses to caress the small of her back. Ginny’s not sure how long they spend snogging, but when Harry pulls back with a choked moan, his glasses fogged, she’s equally sure she can’t see straight, either.
“I erm. I got you a present,” he manages, Adam’s apple bobbing. 
Ginny thinks they’ve both underestimated how badly she wants him, though, because she immediately makes a joke about sex.
“I noticed,” she says dryly, brushing against the hardness pressing into her waist.
Harry chuckles. “That’s... a remarkably low bar to be considered a gift, Ginny. Someone should really talk to your boyfriend about giving you better presents.” 
“Oh, so you’ve met my boyfriend!” she says brightly. “Brilliant, I was dreading the awkward introduction.”
Harry pulls back to clear his glasses with a quick Impervius. “Yeah,” he says fairly, examining the lenses in the light. “I mean, I wouldn’t call us friends, but I hear he’s quite talented.” 
He slides his glasses back on and takes her hand. She has no idea where he’s taking her, but she doesn’t question his deliberate strides down the street.
“Mm,” she agrees, skipping a bit to keep up. “There are two main talents I can think of.”
“Oh?” Harry takes a distracted look around, like he’s searching for someone.
“First, coming back to life,” she says, giving his hand a grateful squeeze. Harry swallows and shoots her a soft, affectionate look from over his shoulder. 
“And the second?” he deadpans, his green eyes darkened with lust. Even while turned on, he has the nerve to know she’s setting him up for a joke. Unbelievable!
As they come to a stop outside Three Broomsticks, Ginny decides to make it a good joke, indeed. So she arches a brow and plainly enunciates, “Of course, the second talent would have to be eating—“
“—HEY!” Ron’s voice booms as Harry chortles into his palm. 
Ginny looks up, unperturbed, even as Harry falls to pieces. Ron and Hermione are standing a few meters ahead, each red-faced, each with their clothing askew. Harry rolls his eyes, but she knows exactly what he’s thinking: Just imagine how they’d look if she’d finished that thought. And they’d heard it.
Ron’s demeanor changes when he sees them… and for a split-second, Ginny’s afraid she has finished the thought, and he has heard her. As she and Harry walk closer, Ron loses his confident swagger, his face paling, his shoulders slouched; if Ginny didn’t know better, she’d say that her brother was thinking (very broadly) about the concept of her and Harry. Together. Because Merlin knows she’s seen that expression on his face more times than she can count. 
But when the four of them are standing nearly toe-to-toe, Ron sets his jaw in grim determination and peers over at Harry. “Did you tell her?” he mutters, squinting in the dying sunlight. 
Blegh. 
Now Ginny’s the one feeling queasy. She knows it makes her a bloody hypocrite, but she can’t handle hearing her brother’s voice all deep and scratchy, like he’s been groaning and moaning and—
“Erm, we never got the chance?” Harry says weakly. The corners of his lips twitch. “We were... a bit busy.”
Ron makes a disgusted sound in the back of his throat as Ginny turns to Harry with narrowed eyes. “Tell me what?” 
Harry shrugs. “Like I said, I got you a present.” 
Ginny swats him on the chest. “I told you, I don’t need a present!” But then she drops her voice, leaning in to trail her finger along the seam of Harry’s jacket. “What I could use, though,” she murmurs, meeting his eyes, “is a good—”
“We have rooms at Three Broomsticks!” Harry blurts, loud enough for everyone to hear. Ron explodes with a swear and mutters something about “terrible fucking ideas,” and it’s not until then that the pieces in Ginny’s head slide into place. 
Oh! She glances at the pub behind them, which suddenly seems far more warm and welcoming than she’d ever thought. 
That’s… oh! 
But wait, no, something doesn’t quite— 
Ginny rips her head away from to peer over at Ron and Hermione, her eyes narrowed — and ahh, fuck, this whole this has been a sham! They definitely knew! She can read it on their bloody faces, can’t she, as they do that thing where they shuffle in place?  For two people allegedly good at strategy, they’re shit at hiding when they’ve been caught bang to rights. 
At least Ron has the decency to look a bit green at the gills as he peers in the direction of the pub, like he’s just realized — or perhaps just accepted — that Harry and Ginny are about to do what he and Hermione are about to do. Hermione, though, couldn’t seem more flush-faced and content, like she’s wearing her smugness as a badge of honor. Bloody morons, the pair of them… 
Ginny turns back to Harry with a raised pointer finger, her mind filled with questions (How long did Hermione know? Was Ron really involved in this process… really? Should I get used to this during these weekends?) but before she can ask any of them, he cuts her off with a nod towards the pub. 
“So erm... shall we?” Harry asks, his voice unexpectedly timid. Then he gives her that familiar sheepish grin as he rubs his hand on the back of his neck. 
Ron makes another disgusted sound from behind them — which Hermione quickly soothes with a murmur. 
And although Ginny would love to maintain an air of self-righteous indignation, she decides to let her boyfriend try this grand-gesture-chivalry-thing, after all.
 ________
The second they’re in the room, Harry shoves her against the door.
“Does McGonagall know?” Ginny demands with her last bit of brainpower as Harry’s mouth nibbles on her jaw. “Because I can’t... mmm... I imagine her being ok with—”
Harry replies with a startled laugh, but it seems the reminder of McGonagall has cooled his ardor a bit. 
“Not unless you plan to tell her!” he says darkly, taking out his wand. “But fair point, this place could probably be more secure.” Then — with one jacket sleeve dangling from his shoulder, his shirt halfway unbuttoned, and a visible bulge pressing against his trousers — Harry proceeds to very stoically cast a series of charms around the room, his eyes flitting from corner to corner. 
Ginny would laugh if she didn’t match his desperation. 
“No, no, I’m not really worried about that!” She sinks down to the bed to toe off her trainers. “I was just wondering if you’d got permission for us to stay a bit longer, but you answered my question. Anyway.” She waves her hand dismissively and unbuttons her jeans. “Why are you so paranoid? Everyone and their mum knows we’re shagging, Harry. You can’t expect that to be a secret!”
He gives a humorless chuckle and casts the contraceptive charm. “Yeah, but knowing in theory is a bit different from seeing my pasty white arse on the front page of The Prophet.” He puts his wand on the bedside table and shrugs his shirt off the rest of the way. “Trust me when I say that I’ve seen some shit these past two months, Ginny — and I don’t mean dark shit. I mean like, middle aged women who somehow find me delectable!” 
He shudders and he tugs off his jeans; Ginny wonders if he’ll ever accept what a fucking hero he is, but she answers her own question almost immediately: Of course he won’t. He never will. This is the man who saved the bloody world a few months ago, but never even thought to ask for permission to actually shag her overnight. 
Ginny bites her lip as he finishes undressing. He’s heartwarming and ridiculous at the same time, isn’t he? Harry. This person who’s carelessly sexy and sloppy and perfect... this person whose idea of a grand gesture involves hatching a plan with her brother. 
Then he lies down beside her with a timid smile that doesn’t match the arousal jutting out in front of him, and as he softly brushes the hair away from her face, Ginny will be damned if her heart doesn’t swell to a million times its size. 
__________
He fucks her deeply, passionately... the type of shagging she knew she was in for when she first heard about his plan. It’s the type where he stares into her eyes and watches with breathless wonderment as he makes her come — twice. It’s the type where she feels his heartbeat with his pulse as he finally spills himself inside her with a strangled roar. It’s the type of shag that sets her nerve endings on fire and steals her breath and makes her feel a startling sense of connection... to the universe. To her body. To her soul. 
But most importantly, to him. 
To Harry. Her Harry... the one with the racing, reckless mind and loose grasp on authority and suddenly defined arm muscles that he uses to roll them over until she’s lying on his chest. 
He came — and hard. She knows he came so hard that he’s scarcely breathing, so hard that his world is surely an array of pinpricks exploding in the darkness... but he’d never, ever be blind enough to forget about her. And as she lays there, her cheek pressed against his heart (the one that’s miraculously, somehow, still beating), a realization that’s been glinting at the edges of her mind slams into her like a ton of bricks: He hasn’t haunted her this year at all. 
Ginny exhales on a shudder and bites her lip, but his warm weight keeps her from slipping. He anchors her to earth, this Real Harry... the one she’d ached for and pined for and craved, but not as a figment of a memory. 
Her heart hammers, her pulse races, as she makes sense of it all. As she tries to come to terms with it. As she considers how to explain to her boyfriend that he’d once been everywhere (when he wasn’t happy), and how he’s now nowhere (when he is). 
Harry gets there first. 
“What’s wrong?” he rumbles, his hand coming up to stroke her hair. 
A smile lifts her left cheek, still flush against his chest. What else can she do, really, but smile? “Nothing’s... exactly wrong.” 
“Nothing exactly,” Harry agrees, threading a tendril through his fingers. “But seriously, Ginny, I know you a bit better than that by now.” He trails off with a chuckle that makes her head bounce, and she grins even more broadly; she loves the proof of him, the evidence he’s here. 
“Erm, you do know we’ve shagged quite a lot, yeah? Enough times for me to know what’s normal with you — and what’s not.” He shifts his thumb to brush her jawline and clears his throat with an air of formal importance. “So. If you’ve got any complaints about my performance, I highly recommend you formally share those with the HR department before—“
“—Last year was fucking horrible,” she breathes, her eyes trained on the far wall. 
The silence that follows is more deafening than if she’d shouted. In any other circumstance, she’d feel guilty for throwing at him without context. Now, though, she can’t stop... especially not when she hears his reassuring murmur. Not when she feels his hands grip her closer, wrapping around her middle. 
And with that, it’s like he’s uncorked a stopper; every bizarre, mortifying thing she did to keep him alive suddenly spills over. “So I guess I... I guess I pretended I saw you everywhere at Hogwarts — even though I didn’t do it on purpose — because even for me, that would be a bit much,” she babbles, her thoughts only half-formed. “For some reason you were in all the places we used to snog, and also everywhere else, and I don’t know...” She trails off with a huff that ruffles the hair around her face. “It just... I didn’t realize until now that I haven’t done that this year and how fucking pathetic that was while you were gone, and—”
“Hey!” Harry interrupts, his arms gripping her waist more tightly. “Of all the things you are, love?” He kisses the top of her head. “Pathetic doesn’t make the list. Not even close.”
Ginny gives a delirious laugh and shifts until she’s propped on her elbow; she’s seized with the desire to see him, to prove (again) that he’s more than a memory. She’s not disappointed with what she finds. Harry’s put his glasses back on, but they’re lopsided and smudged and unmistakably human. His grin is lazy and warm, the type she couldn’t make up, not even if she tried. His eyes are roving over her chest, his jaw tense, as he attempts to take her seriously even though she’s naked. 
“Anyway,” she adds, extending her finger to trail down his chest. “I guess it just hit me all once, that you haven’t, you know, been there. Even though I’ve missed you terribly.”
Harry arches a brow. “How terribly?” His hands start to dance up her side. “Please don’t spare the details, Ginny. A poor, lonely bloke needs something to go on.” 
She rolls her eyes. “You know damn well how bloody terribly! How many pairs of knickers have I sent?”
Harry clucks his tongue. “Not enough, I’m afraid,” he laments, brushing the underside of her breast. Then he peers up at her, his face stretched into a grin. “After all, it’s hard to top the red ones.” 
Ginny snorts before she can help it. Even though she’s naked — even though they’ve just shagged — she can’t help but feel vaguely abashed. “I still can’t believe I did that,” she mutters, running a hand down her face. “And more than once! For fuck’s sake, if my mother ever found out...”
Harry just laughs, shaking his head, but then something catches his eye behind her.
“Shit,” he swears, his eyes going wide, “is that really the time? We were supposed to be downstairs to meet them five minutes ago.” 
He gives her a final, moaning kiss before he leaps to his feet and searches for his clothes. Ginny rolls her eyes again as she begrudgingly flings the blankets off. Even after all the time, he’s still more terrified of her brother than anything else...
“A lot of doors will open the moment you realize you’re Harry fucking Potter, you know,” she says archly, reaching for her bra. “You could even, you know, ask to properly spend the night with your girlfriend!” 
Harry laughs from the corner of the room. “I do feel pretty terrible about shagging you and running off. But what can I say? You’re in school, and I’m training. It’s just not a good time.” 
“Mmm.” She flips her hair out over her cloak and turns to examine herself in the mirror. She’s a bit pink in the cheeks, a bit bright in the eyes — but if you didn’t know, you wouldn’t necessarily know. At least that’s what she tells herself when she considers facing McGonagall later tonight.
“Will the next Hogsmeade visit be a good time, then?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. “Because a girl could get used to this, Harry.” 
He shoots her reflection a surprisingly tender look before throwing his cloak on, too. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, darling. Assuming there isn’t too much drama at work.” 
“Shouldn’t be,” Ginny says fairly, “so long as we keep those middle-aged witches at bay.” She smirks and turns around to eye the red patches on his neck. “I think I’ve thoroughly marked you, but you never know...” 
Harry laughs and uselessly tries to run a hand through his hair. Ginny muses, not for the first time, that his unruly hair serves a purpose in times like these; no one can tell if he’s been shagged or not. 
With that in mind, she turns to the door with a skip in her step — but she quickly discovers Harry’s not on the same page. He’s suddenly become a bit contemplative, a bit sullen. His brow draws in a grimace as he kicks the floor with his trainer.  
“Erm… but seriously, Ginny,” he says, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I’m sorry you went through that last year.” He winces again, staring at his cuticles, before he turns to her with a shrug. “I’m glad I’m not there anymore, though. You seem… happier.” 
“Definitely happier,” she confirms, taking a step forward. “Definitely. With real you.” 
A ghost of a smile flits across Harry’s lips as he takes her hand. Ginny just leans into his warmth. Leans into him. Desperate to prove — again — how real he is. 
“I’m quite fucking in love with you, actually,” Harry murmurs, eyes still focused on their joined hands. “Even if I can only show it by shagging you in hotel rooms every few months.” 
He pulls back with a reluctant sigh, and when he peers at her again, his eyes are filled with so much love and devotion and compassion that she could cry.
If she were the sort who did that, of course. Which she’s not. 
Right. 
So Ginny pushes down the swell of emotion, the warring forces of pleasure and pain, the feeling of the past meeting the present… and opts to torture him, instead. She rises to her tiptoes, drapes her arms around his neck, and leans in to deliver the final blow.
“You only visit me when I touch myself,” she whispers, nibbling at the shell of his ear. 
And in retrospect, Ginny will accept that Harry’s answering groan was 100% worth the snide looks she got from Hermione the rest of the night. 
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Delaware County residents are about to witness the demise of a long-standing local landmark. The iconic Riddle Thrift Shop will close its doors on Jan. 31, ending what has been a thriving community mecca for consignors, shoppers and volunteers for over half of a century. According to Main Line Health, Riddle Thrift Shop will close because Riddle Hospital is preparing to undergo a campus modernization project in order to better meet the health care needs of patients and community members. The master facility plan includes the construction of a new patient tower to be built on the current front parking lot of the hospital, requiring the hospital to reconfigure traffic flow and parking on the campus. New parking for patients and visitors will be built in the area of the Annex Building, where the Riddle Thrift Shop is currently located. “With construction soon to begin, the safety of our visitors and staff remains our top priority,” Main Line Health wrote in a recently released statement. “With this in mind, and with deep regret, the Riddle Thrift Shop will close ... We have worked diligently to find a new home for the thrift shop, but unfortunately, we have not yet been able to identify a new location. Despite this news, we remain excited and energized about how the modernization of the Riddle Hospital campus will improve the quality of life and access to exceptional care for our Riddle Hospital family and the communities we serve.” Riddle Thrift Shop currently has three paid staff members. In an age when many organizations are hurting for volunteers, the thrift shop has a vibrant pool of more than 100 active volunteers. The shop, which opened in 1960, currently occupies 8,000 square feet of space located within the Annex Building on the front side of Riddle Hospital’s campus. The top floor is dedicated to clothing, shoes and accessories and the lower level showcases furniture and household items, as well as encompasses a large consignment area. Over the past ten years, average proceeds, raised to benefit the hospital, have ranged between $76,000 and $100,000 per year, after payment of salaries and overhead. The shop works with 30 different consignors each day of operation. According to Mary Kate Coghlan, Main Line Health communications and legislative affairs director, Main Line Health has searched extensively to relocate the shop, but no suitable space has been found. “We have explored dozens of properties, and have not yet found a location close enough to the hospital with the amount of square feet and space for parking needed, where we could safely afford rent based on the anticipated income,” she stated. “While we are saddened that we have not been able to find a new location for the thrift shop, we remain hopeful and excited about this next chapter in Riddle Hospital’s future, which will further advance our promise and commitment to serve as many members of the community as possible.” Not all of the volunteers, consignors, and shoppers are quite as delighted about the thrift shop’s demise. Many have had an emotional response, not just to the loss of their beloved thrift shop, but to the way they were, or weren’t, told about its closing. Derek Kay of Drexel Hill, a volunteer at Riddle Thrift Shop for five years, has initiated a petition to not only voice the volunteers’ and consignors’ displeasure over the way dedicated volunteers were treated by not being properly informed of the closure, but to protest how the shop is closing without a relocation option. In just the first few days, he had upward of 60 signatures, and the volunteer says, he has only just begun. “Riddle Thrift Shop is a mainstay in our hospital community and in our surrounding communities,” stated an emotional Mimi Haggerty of Wallingford, who has shopped and consigned at the shop for over 20 years. “We enjoy consigning, making a little money, shopping, helping Riddle Hospital, and seeing friends and family in the shop. “There must be other parcels of land that could handle a new parking garage. For the sake of the Riddle community and our hospital, I hope Main Line Health rethinks their decision to demolish Riddle Thrift Shop. It has an important community function and we want it in our lives.” Although they began hearing closure rumors buzzing around in the early fall, volunteers say that they only found out officially on Nov. 12 that the shop’s days are numbered, after Alycia Mallon-Buhle, chairwoman of the Auxiliaries of Riddle Hospital, stopped by to talk with a few volunteers who were on duty. She allegedly left a paper about the closing on a table for other volunteers to read. Kay said another sign was put up with only one week notice, on the shop’s door and on the Riddle Thrift Shop website for consignors to see that no more consignments would be taken after Nov. 22. “Consignors were arriving with carloads of consignments and had to turn around and go home,” Kay said. “It wasn’t fair how anyone was told. We volunteers are all for hospital advancement, but we are offended by how the volunteers have been informed about all this. We feel taken advantage of because we are unpaid workers, we weren’t worthy of advance notice. If we all had been on the payroll, we probably would be out on the corner with picket signs in hand and have a legitimate complaint about non-communication.” Marion Brower, has volunteered at the thrift shop for three years, but has shopped there for 40 years. “We are emotionally hurt by how, after all these years, raising all of this money for the hospital, and generously giving our time and talents, that we would be treated at the bottom of the totem pole when it comes to getting information about the closing,” Brower said. “This isn’t just about the volunteers. It’s also about the community. The elderly and others on limited budgets shop here. Many depend on the bargains at the shop so that they can afford their medications or food and other essentials. We are a means for low-cost shopping.” “After all the hours and all the years that we put into this shop, we feel like we no longer matter and that hurts — it’s belittling,” volunteer Peggie Cacciatore of Brookhaven, who recently received an American Hospital Association 2,000 Hour Award, said sadly. When asked about those currently working and volunteering at the thrift shop, Coghlan, speaking on behalf of Main Line Health, replied, “Our philosophy is to treat all employees and volunteers with respect and compassion, and we will work diligently with the employed staff to support their transition to a role within the organization or externally. We are hopeful that those who currently volunteer at the thrift shop will be interested in other volunteer positions available within the hospital.” Volunteers want more information and answers, but are growing frustrated because no one is talking about what happens in February. “For some reason, everything is hush-hush,” said Ronni McCarthy of Aston, who has volunteered at Riddle Thrift Shop for four years and says the customers, consignors and volunteers are like one big family. “We get shushed every time we ask a question or talk to consignors or shoppers about the closure. Customers are asking us over and over, and I really don’t have too much to tell them. If we had more information, we may not be as upset. It’s like management is under a gag order.” Kay said the sign that volunteers posted in the shop, encouraging attendance at an upcoming Middletown council meeting, was silently removed by management. When thrift shop manager Peg Stacy and assistant manager Martha Marino were contacted for information, they both referred all inquiries to Main Line Health public relations department. Before it’s all said and done, the volunteers hope to rally their local government officials, as well as the community at large, to help them find a suitable site and realize their dream of relocation. They want to continue the hospital auxiliary’s longstanding tradition of supporting Riddle Hospital. “The volunteers, consignors and shoppers are the heart and soul of Riddle Thrift Shop,” commented Beverly Ferguson of Essington, who has shopped at the thrift shop since she was 17 years old. Now at age 70, she continues to shop and consign. “No matter where it’s located, the people will still come. We hope someone in the community will step forward and offer us another option. We are open to all  suggestions and ideas.” Pat Metzger of Brookhaven, a six-year volunteer at Riddle Thrift Shop, said that she talked to Donna Kaiser, Main Line Health volunteer director, about the closure and possible future relocation. “I met with Donna and she told me there is no opening on the Riddle campus to assimilate the thrift shop, but that we shouldn’t give up hope,” Metzger said. “We have no contacts for the Main Line Health administration, but wish we knew an administrator or board member to whom we could voice our concerns. After all we have given to the hospital, we would just appreciate the courtesy of meeting with someone in administration to answer our questions and concerns and just listen to us. I think we deserve that.” The volunteers have not lost hope and would like nothing more than to find a shop, not far from Riddle Memorial Hospital, to do what they have always enjoyed doing — raising money for the hospital. They say that they would like nothing more, than to have Main Line Health’s support in their effort. In a scan of the program booklet from the Riddle Hospital annual volunteer recognition luncheon held this past April, numerous thrift shop volunteers were honored for hitting milestone service of up to 18,000 hours and 45 years of service. “At the volunteer luncheon in April, we sat at the Drexelbrook and heard all the speakers talk about how wonderful the volunteers are,” Metzger related. “And then this happened six months later. It made us think that, in reality, we aren’t too valued or appreciated.” “We’d hate to think it’s all about money and the human impact just doesn’t matter,” Kay chimed in. "We understand it's business and the need to move forward with progress, but there's more to this situation than just closing a building to make room for a parking lot." “We all feel that closing Riddle Thrift and not relocating is a terrible disservice to the whole community,” said four-year volunteer Janet Gemsheim of Middletown.  “It is wrong on so many levels. Many volunteers make this their purpose for getting up in the morning and their social circle. Many consignors come the same day every week and have their own new friendships and small groups that support each other and share time, as well as, the money they get for cleaning out their houses and those of relatives to provide a little extra income.  Think of the things that have been repurposed and not disposed of in a landfill - one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. There is always something wonderful and unique to be found there. It is a place for the hospital personnel and visitors to drop in while waiting for loved ones in surgery or a break from a difficult visit. The community at large needs a place to affordably cloth their family and get a book, or a treat that they cannot afford otherwise.  Main Line Health is supposed to be a haven and healing place for this community, but they are only looking at the bottom line, not the people factor. Closing the thrift shop will be a huge loss for this hospital and all these people if the thrift shop cannot continue somewhere else.” Shopper Nancy Schober feels the pain of the closing. “The Riddle Thrift Shop is a wonderful story of a 'Riddle' family of salaried employees and a larger group of devoted, loyal volunteers working side by side to make Riddle successful over these many years. The shop has been multi-generational with grandmothers, daughters and grandchildren who have visited, consigned, shopped and purchased. Some people made it an outing to visit the shop then catch lunch. Some people stopped at the shop after visiting someone at the hospital. Others came to consign to earn some cash. Riddle Thrift Shop has a story to be told and that should be heard. It should not face its demise with just a whimper with all the good deeds it has provided for not only the community but many others that visited the shop.” In addition to the loss of community and fellowship created by the shop, volunteers and shoppers also cite the shop’s rich history as another reason to continue its existence. The September 2019 issue of the RiddleGram, a newsletter published by the Associated Auxiliaries of Riddle Memorial Hospital since 1959, reviewed the history of the Riddle Thrift Shop. According to the article, the auxiliaries opened a thrift shop in Media in 1961. In the 1960s, there were 17 auxiliaries and 700 members. The Riddle Thrift Shop started on Monroe Street in Media in a building leased for $125 a month. They were given $7,000 to finance the first year of operation. Each auxiliary was responsible for operating the shop for two weeks. The shop moved several times over the next ten years and made a profit of $70,000 along the way. In April 1972, the Associated Auxiliaries Board agreed to loan the Riddle Thrift Shop $30,000 to begin construction of a new building on the grounds of Riddle Hospital. Southeast National Bank loaned the additional $100,000 needed. The doors of the new shop opened on March 13, 1973. The $100,000 loan was paid by February 1975 with the help of the Women’s Board. By the end of 1975, the Riddle Thrift Shop had repaid the Associated Auxiliaries in full. Total cost of the 6,000 square-foot building and 24 parking spaces was $143,087. A two story addition was added in 1983 at a cost of $160,797. The parking lot was enlarged at a cost of $21,500. A freight elevator was added in 1997. The thrift shop went from a tiny rented space on Monroe Street in 1961 to a two-story 10,000 square-foot building by 1983. The shop has contributed close to $4 million to the Associated Auxiliaries. “Closing Riddle Thrift Shop is a community issue, not just a loss to the consignors, shoppers and volunteers,” Kay remarked. “We hope a church or school or anyone with property or vacant space will come forward and offer their site for the thrift shop relocation.” Although no longer taking consignments, Riddle Thrift Shop plans to be open for shopping until Jan. 31. No going-out-of-business sales on in-store merchandise have been announced as of this date. For more information, hours of operation, or updates about the closure, visit www.riddlethriftshop.com. Powering the efforts by Peg DeGrassa, all for Riddle Thrift Shop and its community...#ForThem
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chilly-territory · 5 years
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Uchouten Kazoku 2, chapter 1 (part 2 out of 3)
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This part has more info on the Nidaime than the anime mentioned (which is basically my reason for taking up this novel lol)
The Eccentric Family: The Nidaime's Homecoming (Uchouten Kazoku: Nidaime no Kichou) by Morimi Tomihiko
Chapter 1 (part 2/3, pages 29-52)
"Oh? It's rare to see an elephant in Nyoigadake."
The English gentleman descended to stand on the slope of Daimonji, putting a hand to his silk hat as he looked up at me.
When I shortened my body, returning to the form of a good-for-nothing college student, "As I thought, it was a tanuki's shapeshifting, huh. Quite splendid," he murmured and clapped soundlessly in a pretentious manner.
This Western-styled tengu was a chalk-white handsome man with an air of a foreigner, an old-fashioned returnee just back to Japan, conspicuous in the most extravagant way possible. A glossy silk hat, a black three-piece suit fitting his body to a nicety, a dress shirt so white it looked like plaster, a black bow tie and a cane held in slender leather-gloved hands were all parts of that. Tengu were creatures whose age was unidentifiable to begin with, but in human years he looked to be around his late thirties. One tremendously good-looking tengu, in short.
Picking up the travel suitcase, he called out to the Kurama tengu, who until then were only grunting inarticulately.
"Hello, my good sirs. What might you be playing at in these parts?"
The Kurama tengu got up and were now staring at the gentleman with dumb expressions.
Suddenly, Reizanbou tore off his sunglasses and exclaimed in astonishment, "If it isn't Yakushibou the Nidaime [*1]! Why have you come back now?" "Because I've seen everything that I needed to see. Is chief Kurama doing well? Once I've settled in, I plan to go greet him. By the way..." the Nidaime said smoothly, looking around in puzzlement, "I'm sure I had sent my other luggage here, as well, but..." "Aah, that," Reizanbou intoned coldly. "They were in the way, so we tossed them out." "...And why would you do such a thing? It's not like this mountain belongs to you."
Reizanbou winked to his companions, and the Kurama tengu spread out, encircling the Nidaime. The air of arrogance filled the space.
"You fell behind the times, Nidaime. We've taken over Nyoigadake."
For all intents and purposes, the situation seemed to have finally come down to a tengu fight, and I felt positively thrilled, my hair vibrating. For you see, these days tengu fights happened exceedingly rarely, and clashes like the battle between Akadama-sensei and the Kurama tengu in Mt.Atagoyama, the great tug of war between the tengu of Shiga and the tengu of Kyoto at the island of Chikubushima and the Ibukiyama Flyer Shootdown operation were stuff of legends anymore you only heard about in anecdotes. For tanuki, if you were lucky enough to witness a historic tengu battle, you would have enough bragging material for drinking parties for the rest of your life.
The Nidaime, however, remained utterly indifferent, as if the Kurama tengu's provocation fell on completely deaf ears.
"Oh, that's what's happened. Duly noted." "Don't you have anything else to say?" Reizanbou asked in a tone of complete let-down. "What a disgustingly heartless fellow. We kicked your father off this mountain, you know." "If that's the case, Nyoigadake rightfully belongs to you good sirs," the Nidaime said, making a disinterested face. "Or what, are you ashamed of your actions?" "Why would we be ashamed?!" "Then show more pride. After all, you gentlemen are almighty tengu, and if you get too caught up in the heat of a turf war, no one can complain... Speaking of which, where is my father?" "Behind the Demachi shopping arcade. Dependent on tanuki in a crummy little apartment." "Then I'll finish him myself. Now, gentlemen, if you'll excuse me."
The Nidaime gave a slight polite bow to the Kurama tengu and smoothly took off into the sky with grace and elegance, as if riding an invisible elevator.
The Kurama, dumbstruck, watched him depart.
Only when his form was no longer visible did they open their mouths to start a heated discussion and exchange commentary. Stamping their feet noisily on the scattered hanafuda cards of steel, they were saying in a chorus, "He's just as smartass as ever." "Who would've thought he'd come back now?" "Should we let the head family know?" "Does Atagoyama know?" They no longer spared any thought to the impertinent little tanuki who called them small timers, it seemed.
Taking advantage of the fact, I changed back into my tanuki form and broke into a run, heading toward the foot of the mountain.
As I dashed through the forest, my little brother who'd been hiding, jumped out of some bush at me. "Nii-chan, you're alive!" he exclaimed in delight. After a while spent rejoicing over the fact that we both were unharmed, I shapeshifted into my worthless college student form, while my brother into a little boy, and the two of us went down the slop in front of the gate to Ginkakuji temple that was crowded with tourists, then proceeded farther, running along a drainage canal under sakura trees that were already bloomless.
There was no time to worry about tsuchinoko or the tengu stone anymore. What had to take precedence was Akadama-sensei's safety.
I heard loud and clear with my own ears that the Nidaime said he would finish sensei himself, and when you took into account this tengu strife between the father and the son that had survived more than a hundred years, it was quite probable that he would visit sensei's place to settle the score in a violent and gory way. Still, Akadama-sensei was our honored mentor who provided guidance to us for generations, us four brothers, our father, his father and countless other furballs had studied under him. Even if as a tengu, sensei was no different from not being one at all anymore, I couldn't simply sit and watch as someone put an end to his tengu life without mounting some resistance.
As we were running along Imadegawa-doori street, I ordered my little brother to go back to the Tadasu forest.
"Go tell our big brother that the Nidaime's returned. We also need to let Yasaka-san know." "What are you going to do, nii-chan?" "I'm going to Demachiyanagi. The Nidaime resents sensei, so he's sure to come there to exact revenge. Before he does, I'll get sensei to escape somewhere."
And so, my little brother sped toward the Tadasu forest with the urgent message, while my destination was the apartment building Masugata just behind the Demachi shopping district.
A certain retired tengu by the name of Iwayasan Kinkoubou-san ran a used camera store in the Nihonbashi neighborhood, and I'd been to his place frequently. Kinkoubou was one of Akadama-sensei's few friends, and it was he who told me some details regarding the Nidaime.
The Nidaime's birthplace was the city of Kiyou, that is, presently the city of Nagasaki.
When the Nidaime set foot on the Kyoto soil after being kidnapped from Nagasaki by Akadama-sensei, the time was the Meiji era, in the period of it where the multiple riots associated with the Meiji Restoration had already turned into a thing of the past.
"My son," was how Akadama-sensei introduced the Nidaime to Kinkoubou.
Kinkoubou remembered vividly what the Nidaime looked like when he first stepped in Kyoto. Although a beautiful boy with plump cheeks showing leftover childishness, he had a razor-sharp gaze and it was transparent to see that he was hiding some seriously hot temper. From just one look, it was clear that Akadama-sensei's blood flowed in his veins.
Japan’s booming development of the Meiji era had seemingly nothing to do with the boy receiving tengu education from Akadama-sensei. During Japan's westernization when the Biwako canal was finished, the municipal tram system developed and new buildings constructed, the boy spent all his time in the recesses of Nyoigadake undergoing tough training. But by no means did it mean the young Nidaime was satisfied with his circumstances. Evidently, the reason why he'd accepted his situation and worked hard at his tengu training was because in his heart he had decided to distinguish himself as quickly as possible and overthrow his detested father.
Time flowed by, marking the coming of a new century and a new Taishou era.
The Nidaime turned into a dazzling young man, and there was no keeping him secluded in Nyoigadake anymore. Together with the chief of Kurama, Kuramayama Soujoubou, with whom the Nidaime had become friends, he would sneak into high schools, pose as a student and go to party in the night town, taking tanuki along. Akadama-sensei frowned at the Nidaime's conduct; the Nidaime, for his part, kept steadily gaining strength as a tengu, competing with Akadama-sensei head-on. It was a precarious situation where both, the father and the son alike, eagerly searched for a chance to let loose and allow their tempers explode.
And that was where a certain woman came into play.
A western-style hotel with a clock tower appeared at Karasuma-doori street rather suddenly. She was the sheltered daughter of the owner of that '20th century hotel', a nouveau riche who built his fortune on war.
The Nidaime fell in ardent love at first sight, but Akadama-sensei meddled, saying that he needed to punish his negligent pupil who had lost his way. At the time, Akadama-sensei was still overflowing with vitality as a tengu, and the wicked deed of making passes at his son's first love was no big deal to him, it seemed.
That struggle over love, unfolding on the stage that was the brilliantly shining hotel, got more and more complicated until the Nidaime's patience that was being stretched thin ever since his being a young boy was finally overtaxed, his temper exploding in flames.
The father and the son clashed in what was a huge fight shaking all the 36 peaks of the Higashiyama mountains and lasting 3 days and 3 nights.
As the two battled without sleep or rest, riddled with wounds and reduced to savages, they ended up crawling up the main roof of the Minamiza theater [*2] that was still under reconstruction at the time. As bluish-white lightning tore through the dark skies and a downpour shrouded the city, they mustered the last of their strength and clashed. Seeing them stick their fingers in the opponent's nostrils, pull each other's hair and unintelligibly grunt was like watching a children's squabble instead of tengu's death struggle. Still, as per the saying, experience proved the best teacher in the end, and Akadama-sensei, going wild like a lion, kicked the Nidaime down from Minamiza's roof and to Shijou-doori street below, letting loose a triumphant roar. Under the beating rain, the defeated Nidaime escaped through the dark city and disappeared.
Since then, a hundred years had passed.
Nyoigadake Yakushibou the Nidaime, having set foot on his native land after returning from the British Empire, entered a luxury lodging, Kyoto Hotel Okura in Kawaramachi-oike, with appropriate grandeur and dignity.
While the Nidaime, having deposited his luggage in a comfortable guest room of the hotel, was carefully dressing, intending to visit his father and settle the score, Akadama-sensei, holed up in his cheap apartment behind the Demachi shopping arcade, hugged a daruma doll with one eye filled in [*3] close and prayed for Benten's return to Japan, chanting "BentenBentenBenten" all the while.
Why were these father and son as different as night and day?
It was a cruel story, just the tengu way.
Luckily, when I burst into Akadama-sensei's apartment, the Nidaime wasn't there yet.
Through the openings in the curtain that more resembled an old rag, the spring sun streamed, illuminating the four and a half tatami mat room buried in junk. Akadama-sensei in yellowish underwear snored loudly on his permanently laid-out futon; in contrast to the overall pitiful sight that he presented, sensei's sleeping face was the height of happiness. He was probably dreaming of Benten's bottom. "Please wake up!" Even when I shook him, sensei just turned over, greedily clinging to his backside dream and even looking like he was diving ever deeper into its sweetness.
"Oh, for Heaven's sake. He just won't wake up."
Around the futon, all kinds of personal belongings were scattered such as tengu tobacco, the Fuujin-Raijin folding fan, a concise picture postcard from Benten and sensei's favorite towel, among others. I gathered them, wrapped them in a cloth, lifted sensei's body and deposited it on my own back. He probably wouldn't be happy to have been carried to the tanuki forest while asleep, but I had no time to wait for him to wake up comfortably on his own.
When I opened the door to the apartment and was about to leave, I saw the silhouette of an English gentleman behind the fence surrounding the building who was clearly out of place in the Demachiyanagi neighborhood.
"Uhyaa! It’s the Nidaime! He sure wastes no time."
With no other choice, I went back into the room.
The image of Akadama-sensei the Nidaime had in his head was that from a century ago, and there was no way he could've accurately predicted what sensei looked like in the present after his downfall. In which case, if I shapeshifted into sensei, I just might be able to deceive the Nidaime's eyes somehow. You never knew if maybe greeting the Nidaime warmly and giving him a hug as the fake Akadama-sensei would actually be enough to start thawing the ice of his hundred year old grudge. Oh, right, almost forgot.
I threw the junk out of the closet and shoved Akadama-sensei, who was still hugging the daruma doll, into it together with his futon. Just as I shut the sliding screen closed, the Nidaime knocked on the door.
"Is Nyoigadake Yakushibou in?"
I shapeshifted into Akadama-sensei and sat down in the center of the small room cross-legged.
"Come in," I said loudly.
After a few moments, the Nidaime opened the door and stepped inside, peering into the four and a half tatami mat room from where the small kitchen was. He was pressing a snow white handkerchief over his nose and mouth. It was no wonder: smoke from the tengu tobacco, the stench of Akadama port wine left on the bottom of several bottles mixed with that of food in bento boxes that had gone bad, yellow-smeared cotton swabs thrown carelessly after their duty of cleaning ears had been done, underwear stripped and left to lie around, Akadama-sensei's own old man body odor and the leftover smell and hair from the tanuki who visited quite often... This room, that was the height of disorder along with its stink, apparently completely overwhelmed the Nidaime as he stood at the threshold in mute amazement.
Using my best shapeshifting techniques, I managed to recreate the dignity typical of tengu.
"So good of you to come back, son! What happened in the past was all my fault. Will you forgive me?"
From the mouth of Nyoigadake Yakushibou, a tengu who carried his wicked ways to the extremes and spat on all creation, one after another fell accommodationist lines, and it was so blatantly contrived that I felt ashamed for myself.
When I opened my arms wide, the Nidaime approached cautiously, got down to one knee after carefully wiping the filth from the spot on the tatami where his knee would go and gingerly returned the embrace while paying scrupulous attention as not to get his jacket dirty in the process. With this, the books on the strife of a hundred years between the father and the son could be closed, it seemed.
Except, all of a sudden, the Nidaime whispered into my ear, "I see you've acquired quite the tanuki reek to you, father." "That'd be because the tanuki come here all the time. I'm rather sick of them myself." "You say that, but it is rather apparent that you're quite fond of tanuki." "Fool! What are you talking about?" "Why else would you grow a tail like a tanuki?"
The Nidaime then gave my lower back a slap, seizing the tail that popped out from that impact in a tight grip.
In the blink of an eye my transformation was unraveled, and I found myself hanging upside down, bitterly regretting my shallow and ill-conceived idea to fool a tengu by shapeshifting into a tengu. What could be a more humiliating and painful experience? Tanuki don't do upside down. And now, dangling precariously in the air with up and down switched, I mumbled barely coherently, begging the Nidaime for forgiveness, "I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!"
"Could it be that you're the tanuki who was in Nyoigadake earlier?" The Nidaime brought the bridge of his flawless nose closer to me, still holding me upside down. "If that's the case, then you must have inferred the circumstances and beat me to the punch, huh."
Having subdued his anger, the Nidaime put me back down on the tatami flooring.
Rubbing my aching butt, I looked up at him.
"Please forgive my foolish prank. I am the third son of Shimogamo Souichirou, Yasaburou. I would like to congratulate you on your safe return from abroad from the bottom of my heart, sir." "No need for such ceremonious greetings. Incidentally, where is my real father?" "Well, sir, that I know not myself. I wonder where could he possibly have gone?" "Hm-hmph," the Nidaime snorted under his breath and took a look around the small room, eyes taking notice of the sliding door to the closet that I had slid shut in a hurry just minutes earlier. Behind it, he was sure to find a drooling Akadama-sensei, hugging the daruma doll and dreaming of Benten's backside. I was on pins and needles, fearing that the Nidaime would see right through it any moment now, but he made no attempt to investigate the closet, just muttered, "Tanuki are such admirable little creatures," in an indescribable tone that could be one of admiration or one of exasperation.
"Tanuki are indeed admirable," I said. "If there is anything you need, simply say the word. I'm sure there must be some inconveniences after being gone for so long. And there is still the need to find your furniture and household belongings." "Yes, indeed. It appears those Kurama fools tossed them from Nyoigadake." "If you would, sir, may I suggest leaving this matter in the hands of this Yasaburou?"
Those household possessions flung from Daimonji by the Kurama tengu must have been picked up and hoarded by the tanuki dwelling in Kyoto. But if the Nidaime claimed ownership over them even at this late a date, it was not impossible to get his collection, that had been sucked into the tanuki's lairs, back.
When I informed him of that, "I would be very grateful," he replied, produced a gold coin from his pocket and tried to get me to take it. "I cannot allow you to work for free." "But tengu are made to drive tanuki to work hard. Tengu are greater than tanuki, after all." "I do not like being indebted to others, Yasaburou-kun," the Nidaime then said. "Besides, I'm not a tengu."
The Nidaime's return to the country sent significant ripples through the tanuki world.
To the furballs with short lifespans, witnessing the arrival of a brand new tengu was a rarity that may or may not happen only once in a lifetime. So the ever curious tanuki, wanting to get a look at that new tengu, stalked Hotel Okura in Kawaramachi-oike. Among the stalkers were even elderly furballs with not much longer left to live who were supposed to stay in the seclusion of Tanukidani-Fudou temple. Before long, an irresponsible rumor went into circulation that stealing a look at the new tengu was sure to extend one's lifespan.
With the tanuki world clamoring on and on, I got summoned by the head of tanuki society, Yasaka Heitarou, and went to pay him a visit in Gion together with my eldest brother.
As we walked from the east end of Shijouoohashi bridge, heading to Yasaka temple, I kept grumbling under my breath how annoying all this was.
From my experience, nothing good was in store for you when you were summoned by the Nise-emon: it was either to lecture you to the accompaniment of a Hawaiian melody or to task you with some troublesome job.
As far as my brother explained it to me, at a meeting held the day before with him and Yasaka Heitarou presiding, the discussion on how to better deal with the Nidaime produced no real conclusion, except for a half-backed one along the lines of 'Let's ask Yasaburou's opinion, for starters' to evade the issue.
"You're the only who had any opportunity to hold a real conversation with the Nidaime," my brother stated. "Besides, you also excel at handling Akadama-sensei. That is, your name and tengu basically go hand in hand, you see." "I'm no tengu expert." "Stop complaining and make yourself useful to the tanuki world once in a while."
A big tanuki named Yasaka Heitarou was not only the head of the Yasaka clan that held the territory stretching from Maruyama Park to Gion, but also the Nise-emon governing all the tanuki of Kyoto. His office was located in a back alley of Gion-Nawate that was lined with tiny snack pubs and bars, in the building of a closed down proctology clinic. That clinic took care of Kyoto tanuki's behinds for many years, and I, too, was a patient there at one time when a mushroom grew out on my butt back when I was little.
The waiting room of the defunct clinic was crowded with tanuki who came to appeal to the Nise-emon, and me and my brother patiently waited for our turn, seated on an old leather-covered couch. At long last, we were escorted to the Hawaiian-styled examining room where Yasaka Heitarou, sprawling in a rattan chair and plucking at the strings of an ukulele, greeted us.
"Hi there, sorry for the trouble. Welcome to Fake Hawaii."
On the walls of the examining room a very Hawaiian blue sea and indigo sky were painted, in the corners there were planted a few fake palm trees, and the space on the walls was crammed with an assortment of Hawaii-related articles such as hula girl dolls, wreaths and aloha shirts. Hawaii had become Yasaka Heitarou's yearned-for paradise ever since he had gone on a recreation trip there in his youth, and he wanted nothing more than to push the position of the Nise-emon on my brother as soon as possible and escape to his southern land of dreams. It was his dearest wish to spend his time playing with coconuts on the Hawaiian beach after retiring.
"Nothing like thriving business, isn't it," said I.
"It's not profitable, but this flood of customers never stops. It's so aggravating, really."
Since as the head of the tanuki world, the Nise-emon was expected to bring the tanuki of Kyoto together, whenever there was a quarrel, he had to step in and arbitrate; during any big tanuki assembly he was to take charge, and it was also his duty to show the way to little tanuki who searched for the correct way to live as a tanuki. Sometimes, he even had to give advice on love affairs. That said, tanuki were creatures liable to easily overlook the bigger issue and lose themselves in pointless arguments over some minor stuff. Thus, the problems that visitors wanted Yasaka Heitarou to settle for them rarely required quick wit and mental gymnastics bordering on acrobatics, Oooka-style [*4], to solve. For that reason, when a complicated problem related to tengu fell in his lap, Yasaka Heitarou found himself at a loss.
Offering me and my brother chairs, Yasaka Heitarou produced a Mango Frappuccino from the fridge. The ukulele sang in staccato. The atmosphere of a southern island steadily filled the room.
"Well then, Yasaburou. I'm going to ask this because I regard you as an authority on the tengu world..."
Hearing such flattering words did make me feel better.
"The Nidaime... is he the real deal?"
If Yasaka Heitarou was asking whether or not the Nidaime was a genuine tengu or a legitimate heir of Akadama-sensei's, then it was probably for the sake of observing what was considered manners such as sending formal greetings from the tanuki world and holding an official welcome ceremony. After all, the Nidaime had set foot on his native land for the first time in a hundred years, that had to be celebrated with lavish. However, considering the big fight that, as everyone knew, had occurred that same century ago, there was tremendous strife between Akadama-sensei and the Nidaime. Not only had sensei not acknowledged the Nidaime in any shape or form, there were even suspicions that he thought of making Benten his successor. While there was nothing technically wrong with extending courtesy to the Nidaime on behalf of the tanuki world, it was out of question to incur Akadama-sensei and Benten's anger and irrational crackdown on tanuki right after, which was where the problem lay.
I was asked to relay the full particulars of my encounter with the Nidaime.
"As far as I can tell, he is a tengu through and through, no question about it. It is strange that the person in question insists he's not one though... Maybe it's because he somewhat lacks self-awareness as a tengu." "That spells trouble in dealing with him." "Things between the father and the son look as bad as ever, too, and when Benten-sama eventually returns, there will be a world of trouble, no doubt. If we recklessly get involved in this, fur on our butts is sure to catch fire." "Stop enjoying this, Yasaburou," my brother chided. "Well, it's fine," Heitarou remarked. "...So, what do you think, Yaichirou-kun?"
My brother folded his arms and frowned.
"I think my brother is an idiot. That said, I believe his judgement is correct."
Yasaka Heitarou seemed to be in thought as he plucked at his ukulele.
The reason why Yasaka Heitarou succeeded our father, the previous Nise-emon, after he had fallen into the Friday Fellows Club's pot, was because they were childhood friends. While tanuki society ran about in confusion, playing a desperate push-and-shove game of Oshikura Manju [*5] after losing their head, Heitarou, upset and dillydallying, was mercilessly pushed out of the circle as the fall guy. At the time, Ebisugawa Souun still lacked dignity to seize the Nise-emon position, and many tanuki were of the opinion that they'd be better off leaving it to almost anyone, even Heitarou, than Ebisugawa. Ever since, while not having produced achievements worthy of special mention to his name, neither had Yasaka Heitarou made many big blunders, the fact of his continuous service, decent if lacking passion, to the tanuki world in such an uncharacteristic role was quite admirable in and of itself.
"In the end, we're just tanuki. Haste makes waste." Before long, Yasaka Heitarou ended his musical performance and slapped his knees. "As a sly old tanuki that I'm supposed to be, I say we wait and see. We'll decide which side to wag our tails once the stance of the tengu world on the matter has been made clear. For the time being, look out for any movements in the tengu world."
What I requested of Yasaka Heitarou was to spread the word as far as possible that the tengu stones that the tanuki had picked up and deep-pocketed belonged to the Nidaime, and appeal for their return.
I asked Kiyomizu Chiijitarou from the antique store on Teramachi-doori street to provide a corner for the tengu stone collection retrieval and inspected the articles that the tanuki had been bringing there. It was as heart-breaking as taking the knife to the flesh for the tanuki to have to part with the tengu stones they had painstakingly collected, and many of them made a dramatic scene in front of the secondhand store. Among them even were those who loathed and cursed me for going and sticking my nose where it didn't belong.
The assortment of articles that the Nidaime had brought back from England was astoundingly diverse.
A writing desk, western canes numbering ten-something, a few dozens of men's leather shoes, a wooden wardrobe, plenty of suitcases, a collection of distance glasses, devices for experiments such as magnifying glasses and microscopes, lots of indoor slippers, silverware and candlestands, a violin, a chessboard, a mysterious bundle of keys, 3 overcoats, lamps, a bathtub, Persian carpets, tweet caps, hundreds of Western books, scraps of newspaper articles... And that was only part of it. The chaise that my little brother and I had found at the foot of Nyoigadake was turned in, as well.
Thus, for about a week, I was being kept so busy that there was no time to even think about tsuchinoko.
Tsuchinoko represented the dream, but tengu were reality. During that period, the Nidaime lived at the hotel in Kawaramachi-oike. Those good looks of his and natural majestic air typical of tengu held the hotel staff captivated, and they treated him like a regular patron of many years. His appearance and mannerisms of an old-fashioned English gentleman fit nicely into the hotel's big solemn lobby and tea room, his honor and dignity as a tengu just returned home displayed amply. A walk about an hour long that he would take at 5 in the afternoon was his everyday routine, his path always the same, and it mattered not if it rained. In the crowd of Shinkyougako street the Nidaime's form was extremely conspicuous, unfailingly turning heads of every passerby. Upon returning to the hotel, he would always check the time at the front door, and his motions, from opening his pocket watch to the angle he tilted his chin at to confirm the dial was so unchanging it was like a picture on a stamp. The Napoléon gold coins that seemed to appear from the pockets of his coat one after another in an endless stream hinted at the Nidaime's outrageous financial assets, but unlike some, he didn't squander that wealth on extravagant night amusements, seemingly having a truly calm and peaceful lifestyle.
Everyday in the evening, I went to deliver the items that had been collected from the tanuki that day at about the time when, by my estimations, the Nidaime would be back after his walk.
"Hello, Yasaburou-kun. Much obliged to you today again."
With each my repeated visit, the hotel room was steadily being reworked into an orderly pseudo-Europe. The tengu in an impecably spotless white dress shirt recently back from abroad who welcomed me in looked quite comfortable surrounded by his favorite furniture. He repeatedly tried to push gold coins into my pocket, but having my pride as a tanuki, I turned him down every time one way or another.
"I don't like being indebted to people," the Nidaime would say. "Well, sir, I'm a tanuki." "Allow me to rephrase then. I don't like being indebted to tanuki." "To be honest, I'm planning on asking for a much bigger favor eventually, such that gold coins will not measure up adequately enough. I'm being kept so busy I cannot even go out to search for tsuchinoko." "And there you have it. I have a feeling I'll be tricked if I'm not careful." "Having enough leeway to allow yourself to be tricked is a wonderful thing." "Well said. Is that a pearl of tanuki wisdom?"
The Nidaime showed a wry smile, and I was off the hook for the time being while still staying true to my adamant refusal to accept gold coins.
Incidentally, there was something about his recovered collection that weighted on the Nidaime's mind, a thing called an air gun, of German make. Crafted by a German engineer in the 19th century, it was a mechanism equipped with a powerful pump that compressed the air to launch a lead bullet. Having passed though several hands on its way from the continent to the British Empire, the gun remained a prized possession of a certain aristocrat for many years before being auctioned off which was when the Nidaime bought it; from the photo of it, it looked as beautiful as any brass instrument. When I heard the words 'air gun', I imagined a toy that launched soft and fuzzy shells like hairballs, but "It's nothing that adorable," the Nidaime chuckled. With that gun rumored to have been used to assassinate a minister of a certain country, if they happened to be shot from it, a creature like tanuki would be Heaven-bound in no time, apparently.
"I assume you, my furball friends, don't like guns, do you?" "No, we most certainly don't. That said, I've never had a chance to see one upclose myself." "If you could find it with all due haste, I would be grateful. There is sure to be trouble if it were to be misused."
As a matter of fact, while I was frequenting the Nidaime in this fashion, Akadama-sensei still lived knowing nothing about the Nidaime's return to the country. Finding a tanuki who would want to be on the receiving end of a rage explosion over making such a report was impossible, and seeing as sensei stayed holed up in his apartment the whole time, he simply had no chances to hear the news in the first place.
When I dropped by at one time with a multi-compartment bento box in hand, I found sensei in the middle of his four and a half tatami mat room, seated at a low tea table as if clinging to it and writing another love letter to Benten he kept on sending.
Sensei is always the last to know, how pitiful, how lamentable.
Just when my thoughts trailed hazily along those lines, sensei suddenly sent a glare my way.
"Yasaburou." "What is it, sir?" "Are you hiding something from me?" "Bringing that up this late in the game, sir?" panicking, I spoke up jovially. "I do have a lot of secrets, I’ll have you know."
Sensei snorted, putting finishing touches to his love letter. "...Oh well, no matter. Your secrets must be silly trifling things either way."
Akadama-sensei, left out of the loop about the Nidaime's homecoming, learned about everything when May had already reached its second half and it had been 2 weeks since the Nidaime's return.
The only ones who could tell sensei, nigh-permanently cooped up in his apartment, the truth were his few old tengu friends. When I heard the rumor that Iwayasan Kinkoubou was seen passing though the Demachi shopping district with a 1 sho bottle decorated with a mizuhiki cord [*6], I thought, 'The time has finally come'.
Apprehensively, I decided to drop by sensei's apartment, but by the time I did it had already been vacated.
Following that, Akadama-sensei had disappeared from Kyoto, and hasty tanuki made a fuss, jumping to a conclusion that he went into hiding fearing retaliation from the Nidaime. However, those of us who had actually studied under sensei, starting with me, objected, insistent that with him, of all people, such a thing was just impossible.
It was true that our former mentor had lost the ability to fly through the sky freely years too early, and for someone who became a good-for-nothing old geezer who was like a thorough collection of all the nasty and wicked traits tengu possessed despite his total inability to do anything tengu-like, he shamelessly remained a selfish leecher and an overbearing tanuki-bullying braggart, yet there was also no denying that his tengu pride was the only thing he had in such abundance that it could start dripping from his nose at any moment. That is, he was the kind of person who would rather die a ridiculous death by crashing into freeze-dried tofu than give the likes of tanuki a cause to point fingers and run their mouths about him running away in fear of the Nidaime.
'Mark our words, sensei will be back, without fail,' asserted the Akadama tanuki pupils.
And not even a few days later a tanuki came out and claimed that he saw sensei moving about the Kumogahata region.
The parts of Kumogahata, located to the north of Kyoto, that slipped deep into the Kitayamasugi cedar forest after you went north and upstream the Kamogawa river and left the urban area, were the turf of Iwayasan Kinkoubou since very long ago. To us, removing himself from the world below full of earthly affairs and tanuki hair and going into seclusion in a lofty place like that looked like proof of just how serious Akadama-sensei was being. There could be no doubt that our great teacher went to train his body and discipline his mind that had grown rusty and dull from his many years of reclusive life, fully intending to confront the Nidaime now that he had been back.
"That's Akadama-sensei for you. Even corrupt, he's still Nyoigadake Yakushibou."
After this news, in the tanuki world sensei's stocks seemed to have gone up somewhat.
T/N:
[*1] Nidaime (ニ代目) lit. the Second: make no mistake it's not a name, just a counter that serves as a convenient way to identify him, so everyone calls him that (similarly to the use of words like sensei, danna, kaichou, etc). His full tengu name would be Nyoigadake Yakushibou the Second. [*2] Minamiza theater (南座): one of the most famous and earliest kabuki theaters (wiki); its current building was built in 1929 which we could take as the year when the conflict between Akadama and the Nidaime took place. [*3] Daruma (達磨): I'm sure every anime or manga fan knows what a daruma is (wiki just in case), so here I'll just mention that when new, both its eyes are unfilled, and you fill in the left eye when you found a wish or an ambition you want to make reality and the right one after you've achieved it. [*4] Oooka judgement  (大岡裁き): originates from the decisions made by a legendary judge of the 17th century Oooka Tadasuke who is famous for making his decisions with exceptional wisdom, fair-mindedness and kindness (wiki) [*5] Oshikura Manju (押し競饅頭): a children's game where participants stand back-to back in a circle and try to push one of them out of it (wiki) [*6] 1 sho bottle ( 一升瓶 ): sho is a traditional Japanese unit for measuring volume equal to 1.8 liters; Mizuhiki (水引) is a decorative cord out of twisted rice paper (wiki)
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julietlofarophoto · 5 years
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Jean White
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Deming Street, Woodstock NY, Tuesday January 17, 2019
Juliet: What first brought you to Woodstock?
Jean:  I was born here. My grandmother, Sarah MacDaniel Cashdollar was born and grew up on Overlook Mountain. She married a young man, Wilbur Cashdollar and they came down to the village to start married life. They rented the cottage from Mr. Lasher which is now The Woodstock Library. After a year or so, they were expecting their first child and returned to the mountain to be near the family.
Juliet: “The mountain”, as in, MacDaniel Road…
Jean: (laughs) Yes, my mother was one of seven children She worked with my grandmother at the boarding house (now Cumberland Farms). Earlier, because Sarah had five daughters she thought they would be able to manage the telephone switchboard which was in the building on the corner of Neher and Tinker Streets. And then, through the efforts of a family friend who spent much time in New York City, my mother Ethel took an intensive course with Harper Method, a new system developed for hair and beauty care. She had what we think was the first beauty shop of it’s type in Woodstock in a corner section of the house immediately behind Joshua’s on Tannery Brook Road.
Juliet: Do you know how your parents met?
Jean: It must have been about 1930. My father worked for a construction company. He was from North Carolina. You had to go wherever the jobs were. So he came and was living at the Woodstock Hotel. It was on the site of the present Longyear Building at the corner of Rock City Road and Mill Hill. There was a fire there, and the hotel burned. He came down and stayed at the Homestead Boarding House and that’s how they met! They bought the house across the street before I was born. I do remember it having a garage and an outside toilet attached to the garage. We did have a bathroom inside, but I’m not sure if it was added after they bought it or if it was already installed .
Juliet: Did you live in any other residence while you were growing up?
Jean: No, but we did go to Ohio with my father. He was working on Wright-Patterson Field in Dayton. My mother, sister Susan who was about 2, and I went with him for about a year or so. We were there during Pearl Harbor Day. When my brother came along, my father just went by himself when he had to go to jobs and we remained in Woodstock and attended school. He had a very early death.  He was killed in an accident when he was 40. My mother raised the three of us by herself with the love of family. There were very difficult times but the love we shared held us all together.
Juliet: What is your first memory of Woodstock?
Jean: You know in some psychology classes they ask “What is your first memory?” I remember the sand box by the old apple tree in our back yard.! But of Woodstock itself? It was always a part of me. My grandmother lived across the street. There was a constant back and forth, with very little road traffic. I used to go up to  little grocery store where the Joyous Lake was, owned by brothers Leslie and Clyde Elwyn. Their houses were right down on Pine Grove just before the Women’s Health Clinic.  The houses are next to each other and the same design. You can still see them! I was thinking this morning, the store had a little meat department in it. My mother would send me with a note and  list. There was a ramp that was fascinating to me. I think it’s gone, but maybe underneath it’s still there. You would enter the store by going up a ramp running along Mill Hill Road and then enter the store on your left. It was made of cement. So my earliest memory was that I was always living here and I can’t really put my finger on it.
We went to school near  the corner of Deming street. Deanie’s Restaurant was on the corner. It was a brown rustic looking building then.  Right next to it is a red building, I think it’s Castaways. We went to Kindergarten on one end of it, then first and second grade on the other end.
Juliet:  And then you went to the one that was right by your house.
(Her home was between what is now CVS and Ulster Savings Bank. The former school building still stands right behind CVS)
Jean: That’s right.
Juliet: Did you graduate high school here?
Jean:  No, Woodstock only went to eighth grade. Then at that time, we went to Kingston.
Juliet: WOW.
Jean:  I’m not sure how that worked because there were no school buses. I guess the Township paid the bus company Pine Hill or whatever it was then. They were black and white buses. They would take us down with the commuters and everybody. After 3 o’clock the buses would all come behind the high school to pick us up. It was the same building as Kingston High school today, although they’ve added on a lot!
Juliet: When did you leave?
Jean:  I graduated  high school in ’52 and went to Pratt Institute Brooklyn for four years. There were some circumstances during that time … I became very interested in Native Americans. I decided I’d like to go and teach on a reservation. It was a big megillah to get certified to do that. They didn’t certainly need an art teacher, which was my training. Through a long haul, one of my professors said “Why don’t you just go to Washington, and the Department of Interior Bureau of Indian Affairs and just see? You’re not making any headway writing letters.” So I made an appointment and I went to Washington. They told me “You have enough credits to be a Guidance Advisor” (laughs) “Would you go wherever you’re needed?”. So by that point I said “YES”,  and I went to Arizona. I was a guidance advisor but I ended up teaching first grade for half a year because the teacher they hired didn’t get there until January.
Juliet: Where were you exactly?
Jean: Keams Canyon, Arizona. It was 88 miles from Holbrook, Arizona. 100 miles from Gallup, New Mexico. They were the two closest…metropolises. It was the Hopi reservation surrounded by the Navajo. The children at the school were Hopi and Navajo primarily.  There were also some Anglo kids from a few teachers.
Juliet: What was your path back to Woodstock?
Jean: I really wanted to have more adventures so from there I drove the car back to Woodstock and was here for the summer the next year. I had gone to an Art Education  conference in Los Angeles while I was on the reservation. I took the bus there.  I met a rep from Special Services Department of the Army. They had wonderful job opportunities in Korea, Germany, and France. I thought “Oh, Korea is only a year, I’ll go there”. So I signed to work with enlisted men’s dependents. It wasn’t for officers. The idea was to keep them from getting mixed up in drinking in the towns, and causing trouble. That all got changed after I went to New York to have all the shots for Korea. The program in Korea was ‘frozen’ and I went to Germany for a year and a half. I met a man who became my husband. We got married here in the Dutch Reformed Church and moved to New Jersey because that was where he was working. I had some art teaching experience there with some good administrators. We were married about 23 years and then divorced. I continued to come to Woodstock all during this time.  My mother lived here in a little house just off Elwyn Lane and my dear daughter and I would come for summers and weekends. She and her husband built a lovely house on Plochmann Lane. Eventually, I met a really nice man. He loved the theater and he didn’t want to be too far from New York. I said “You might like Woodstock”.  We kept coming up and looking for a place to live. Someone told us about a house on Broadview which was out of our price range. As we drove down Deming Street we saw a little sign on this lawn that said “For Sale”. That would have been the late 80’s, we bought this house in ’89.
Juliet: So I could ask you what you think has changed since 1989, but you’ve seen everything in the last seven decades.
Jean: You know I’m very grateful Juliet, for one thing. It’s terrible that  buildings were torn down, my house and the Homestead because they were very nice buildings with lots of character. What’s in place of them you know, parking lots and Cumberland Farms…  but I think those incidents maybe kind of spurred the zoning  process into action. I’m not sure. I don’t think they were so willing to allow people to tear down buildings after that.
Juliet: I think it really must have changed the flavor.
Jean: Where Bradley Meadows is was just a lovely open field. My mother and father, just before he died, had signed papers to buy a little house that was right next door to them which had been the Christian Science church. It was very small, built in 1920, on this side of our house right there where CVS is. The congregation had purchased the former summer school of The Art Student’s League of New York where they are now, across from the hardware store. That was built in 1912 and they vacated it in ’22.  My parents bought that little church next door and they rented it. Eventually they sold it to my aunt and uncle. I remember one night, when I was about 13 … I was ironing in that house, looking out. I saw in Bradley Meadows, a flame. I ran over to my grandmother’s across the street. There was a man who lived in the back in a little studio next to the garage. He ran out and we saw it was a hammer and sickle burning. That was startling to me to see that. This would have been the late 40’s. At that time, the Ku Klux Klan was burning crosses on the other side of town, periodically. I never saw it but I heard about it.
What I was going to say that what I”m really grateful for is the businesses that have gone into the houses along Mill Hill Road and Tinker Street who have tried to  to keep them as much as it works. I like that. I so appreciate  the people who came into town in the sixties and created their businesses and contribute to the community. And they are a part of the community. Whereas today I see more people coming in speculating and grabbing up real estate and  wanting to make money from the Woodstock name. It’s too bad I think, because I don’t see a whole lot of becoming part of the community. There is a sense of “What can I get out of Woodstock?” rather than “How can I become a part of this wonderful vital diverse community?” The special aura that has brought folks here for many years is the appreciation of the quiet beauty and spiritual nature of this creative place… this Woodstock.
There are about 6000 residents and I’m not sure if this is correct but I think it’s 60% of homeowners are part time people. So that leaves a small amount to do the Fire Department, the Rescue Squad, all of those volunteer things. It’s unfortunate. Woodstock more or less has a population that leans on the older end of the age scale. We need more young people, more families.
It’s still lovely to walk around Woodstock. I must say I know fewer and fewer people. I think it’s unfortunate that folks who have lived here for many years can’t afford to stay here and their children are looking at the same picture. Real estate prices have risen from the demand of part time folks or B and B landlords that it  prevents a lot of people from being able to stay in Woodstock. These are the folks who maintain our volunteer Fire Department and all the other organizations that support the residents..
Juliet: What is your favorite thing about living in Woodstock?
Jean: I have always loved the interaction with people from all walks of life. When I was working at Deanie’s in the summers, the theater would be open, the Playhouse. The actors would come up after the performance, the bakers would come out from the kitchen and there would be a song fest, right there among the tables! It was just a marvelous interaction of people. I have always loved that. I have lived in New Jersey in suburbia, where so much is the same, people seemed to be so much the same.
It’s just like a little world here in Woodstock. I know it’s not that complete of a melting pot, but it’s getting there. We are more and more diverse. I guess that’s what I like. There’s so much activity. You can find anything if you want to go out and do something. Everything from poetry reading to gymnastics classes and meditation groups and whatever.  Woodstock as you know has such a big volunteer community. We were active in Meals on Wheels for several years. You had teachers and realtors and homemakers working. I like diversity and…the strong personalities!
Juliet: YEAAAAH! (we both crack up laughing)
Jean: I just hope Woodstock is able to maintain itself as a real community where it’s welcoming to those who really want to settle here and be part of the vitality.…
Here’s an illustration, I love this. I would hardly think this would happen: I kept my mother’s little house and rented it for a lot of years. Just before Christmas, the 22nd, a friend who lives on Neher Street was having an open house. So I said I’d go there, and then come back here because I had another event to go to for my stepdaughter. I went to the warm and lovely open house and had a grand time. It was filled with folks I knew and some new friends. When I came back here my phone rang as I was getting ready to go and my tenant who's been there many years called. She says "Jean, the guys  from the water department were here and turned off the water. There was a big leak. They are going to call you.”  So I said “Okay I’ll stay here”.  Larry Allen from the water department called and was so nice and said  he was so sorry but it was my responsibility to get that repaired. SO the water is off. Larry gave me names of people I could call and with his involvement, it all worked out within a few days. It was all repaired. But that same day at the open house, the Town Supervisor  Bill McKenna walked in to the open house and asked "Is Jean White here?" They said “She was, but she just left” He said “Well, the water pipe at her house burst!” Obviously there's communication between the departments. I just thought that was very nice. I felt a real part of this community. I called Bill. It was Christmas Eve and he was at his office. I don’t know if I would have experienced that if I were a newer person, but I've been around a while. I think getting involved with the community gives you a real home. I LOVE living in Woodstock. There are such interesting and caring people who make Woodstock where I want to be.
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commhunter736 · 3 years
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True Crime Pc Game Download
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True Crime NYC is the sequel to True Crime: Streets of LA. It's also attempting a huge bite out of Grand Theft Auto's target audience. It's gritty, realistic (sort of), and meant to bring you right into the seedy underbelly of a New York crime drama. Does it do all this?
Nope, no, nada, sorry, but I digress. The rendering of New York City is incredible. A lot of detail and painstaking care went into making every street and alley look authentic. From Times Square to the depths of Harlem, everything is VERY close to reality. As a tour program this game excels, but I'm betting you're hoping for a lot more than a tour.
Before I get to what's wrong with this game, let me focus on what's right. It's a much shorter list. The graphics are quality, with features drawing from the latest in pixel shading, high polygon count character models and impressive motion capture, topped off with a gorgeous depiction of the big city that leaves a good taste in your mouth. You can spend a fair amount of time enjoying the scenery and getting lost in the mix. Another point for True Crime: the voice acting. They have spared no expense to obtain talent, Laurence Fishburne, Christopher Walken and many others top the list of grade-A voice acting for this game's gritty plot. When I first heard the voice of a mysterious officer bark out orders and explain my next mission in Christopher Walken's creepy cadence, I was very much caught in the moment. On a further note, the audio in this game is not lacking. Sound effects are crisp and believable for the most part, the soundtrack is as varied as you could ever hope for. Bouncing from White Zombie to De La Soul to The Ramones had me guessing that they wanted to avoid the rap-only crowd, though there is a large share of that too.
The plot, in case you're wondering, is you taking the role of Marcus Reed, a down and dirty gangster thug who has embraced the straight and narrow and become a police officer. Although he can still fight and play dirty, he's out to solve a few mysteries and clean up the town. This is mostly achieved by driving around (or by subway, or walking, but, unlike the real NYC, driving is preferable) and catching calls on the radio for random crimes. There is an interesting amount of variety in the crimes, but you soon reach the end of the cycle and bust your 34th counterfeit syndicate and your 23rd serial rapist and the regular missions soon get old. There is a larger plot to follow, however, and it is slightly more interesting. You follow a series of clues and leads to interrogate increasingly more important thugs. The interrogation mini-game is a fun little past-time to beat, or reason, information out of people. You're soon turned onto a mission that involves a mole from inside the precinct.
Ultimately, this plot has been done to death so many times on so many cop dramas that it's difficult to get engaged. This is just the beginning of where the game goes downhill. Obviously, high production values went into this game, but as is so often the case lately, they missed the mark in some very key areas. The controls for one. Amd display driver whql 8.10. I have rarely seen a more convoluted control system for PC.
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I'll be the first to admit that this was originally for console, but it seems that barely a token effort was made to translate the commands to a keyboard layout. My fingers got a workout hopping all over the keyboard for the numerous and poorly constructed commands. If you're thinking that a gamepad might fix all this, nix that idea too. My Logitech PS2 Styled PC gamepad looked like a perfect match for this game, alas it was barely configurable and did not coordinate to the multiple styles of game play, you could set it up for driving, but not running, or vice versa, but its limitations soon had me back on the keyboard.
After I had adapted to the controls somewhat, the physics had me somewhat at a loss. Keeping in mind that this is not a driving simulation, at its core, I don't expect much more than doughy arcade style driving. Labtec speakers drivers download. But nothing handled as I expected, the cars were sloppy, sometimes you lightly skidded off the front end of a fire truck, other times being brushed by a motorcycle had you recoiling and turning 360's while your perpetrator was getting further and further away. The fighting system was convoluted as well, with a light attack, a heavy attack, a grab attack that was also the way to frisk people, which is also the button to arrest people, plus the buttons to put away your gun, pull it back out, fire a warning shot, flash your badge, tackle someone, all while trying to keep the squirrelly camera centered behind you (which it rarely does well).
In the graphics department there were glitches, clipping into walls, as well as criminals falling through solid concrete and waiting in the ether for you to attempt, in vain, to arrest them. At one point I was forced to kill a non-lethal perp by shooting him in the foot, just to end the mission. Top this off with some frame lag and a whack targeting system, and you can sense my mounting frustration. You'll often find yourself tackling air, punching civilians and firing point blank at walls. There were also numerous points where the textures for multiple guns seems to be missing, and your Uzi,s or pistol would appear as a white textureless shape.
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In a GTA-styled attempt to test the limits of my virtual city, I shot an arsonist, grabbed his flamethrower and took out 30 people before highjacking a public bus and driving over half the residents of the Lower East Side. I finished up with some cop killing. reckless driving and traffic accidents. I was being hunted by every cop in the city and identified as a rogue cop who was 'mentally unstable,' according to the radio. Assured of my own impending death, I ran to and fro waiting for the inevitable. Which never came. I made a break through the park and dived into the bay and swam around for 2-3 minutes. Upon returning to shore my 'criminal' rating had gone back down and I was back to being boy hero. Realism indeed. In another game glitch, I began a mission to follow a motorcycle courier on a bike of my own for an exciting chase, but after trying 20 times to follow him, he wrecked within two blocks almost every time. Finally I just tracked him down on foot after he fell and interrogated him, wondering why I even got on the motorcycle. It's this kind of unfinished and unpolished gameplay that brings this gaming experience to its knees. I couldn't bring myself to care about the characters, the city, the law; nothing in this game draws you in efficiently enough to make you want to finish it.
The controls need work, the engine needs work, the collision detection needs work, the AI needs serious work, all in all I wouldn't be surprised if you told me this was a beta. A brief look at the customer support page for Activision also shows that numerous glitches and problems were had by users of all consoles. Overall, a well-presented, high-budget flop. Advanced systemcare ultimate 7 crack. The world doesn't ever need another World War 2 game but developers keep making them, which I guess is the same reason they keep trying to capitalize on the awesome profits of Grand Theft Auto. But a bigger budget does not make a better game.
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People who downloaded True Crime: New York City have also downloaded: True Crime: Streets of LA, Scarface: The World is Yours, Thing, The, Turok: Evolution, Godfather, The: The Game, Spider-Man, Ultimate Spider-Man, Unreal Gold
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korean-layout · 6 years
Text
Reported Speech I
n
general -고(1) -go  said, to say that
-고 (-go) is used in reported speech and acts as quotation marks. The statement of question that is being reported comes before -고 (-go). What follows after that is typically a speaking or listening verb.
Examples:
(1)-고 말하다 - "said..." (2)-고 하다 - "said..."  short for malhada (3)-고 말씀하시다 - "said..." (honorific) (4)-고 듣다 - "heard..." (5)-고 묻다 - "asked"
The listening/speaking verb inflects the tense, mood, negation or politeness leve Direct Quotes
~라고/이라고 + speaking verb
제가 하고 싶지 않습니다 그는 “제가 하고 싶지 않습니다” 라고 했어요
그는 너를 사랑한다고 했어 = He said I love you 그는 “너를 사랑해”라고 했어 = He said “I love you”
indirect quotes
quoting -Neun/(eu)n  Eu)l ji Indirect question form
l.Reporting a Statement:
:declarative form + 고 +(Speaking/Listening Verb)
Quoting with 이다: Present~(이)라고 Past 이었다고
Verb Future l geo yeyo
Action Verbs    Declarative Past Tense Present Tense Future Tense 하다 (to do) 했다 한다 하겠다 가다 (to go) 갔다 간다 가겠다 먹다 (to eat) 먹었다 먹는다 먹겠다
Descriptive Verbs Declarative Adjective  Past tense Present tense Future tense 행복하다  행복했다 행복하다 행복하겠다 비싸다     비쌌다 비싸다            비싸겠다 길다     길었다 길다            길겠다 맛있다     맛있었다 맛있다            맛있겠다 낡다     낡았다 낡다            낡겠다
Examples Action Verbs
Statement:학교 안 갔어요. (I didn't go to school) Verb in declarative form:안 갔다 + 고 말하다. 학교 안 갔다고 말했어요. (He) said (he) didn't go to school
나는 그가 너를 좋아한다고 말했어 = I said that he likes you 나는 그가 너를 좋아했다고 말했어 = I said that he liked you 나는 그가 너를 좋아하겠다고 말했어 = I said that he will like you 나는 그가 너를 좋아한다고 말하고 있어 = I am saying (telling you) that he likes you 나는 그가 너를 좋아한다고 말할 거야 = I will say that he likes you
If you want to indicate to whom this quote is said to, you can attach ~에게/한테/께 to the person being spoken to:
나는 엄마에게 그가 너를 좋아한다고 말할 거야 = I will tell mom that he likes you
선생님은 학생들이 늦게 도착했다고 말했다 = The teacher said that the students arrived late 선생님은 학생들이 늦게 도착한다고 말했다 = The teacher said that the students arrive late 선생님은 학생들이 늦게 도착하겠다고 말했다 = The teacher said that the students will arrive late
나는 너에게 같이 가야 한다고 했어 = I said (to you) that we have to go together 출력이 아직 안 된다고 말했어요 = I said that the output still doesn’t work 나는 아빠에게 집에 안 가겠다고 말할 거야 = I’m going to tell my dad that I won’t go home 나는 선생님에게 열심히 공부했다고 말했어 = I told the teacher that I studied hard 저는 오늘 1시 정각에 도착하겠다고 말했어요 = I said that I would arrive at 1:00 on the hour 이 길에 큰 자동차가 운전하면 안 된다고 말했어요 = I said that big vehicles are not allowed to drive on this road 저는 그 밧줄의 길이를 늘여야 된다고 이미 말했어요 = I already said that we need to make the length of that rope longer 현금인출기에서 현금을 뽑으러 은행에 가야 된다고 말할 거예요 = I’m going to say that I need to go to the bank to take out cash from the ATM 그는 공부하지 않았다고 했어요 = He said that he didn’t study 민수는 지금 공부한다고 했어. (Minsu said he\'s studying now.) 엄마가 부산에서는 어제 비가 왔다고 했어. (My mother said it rained yesterday in Busan 1. 오늘부터 백화점 세일 한다고 했어요. oneul-buteo baekhwajeom seil handago haesseoyo. I heard that the department was having a sale starting today.
2. 민수는 내일 도착한다고 했어요. minsu-neun naeil dochakhandago haesseoyo. Minsu said that he would arrive tomorrow.
3. 지수가 도와준다고 했어. jisu-ga dowajundago haesseo. Jisu said that she would help me.
4. 여기에 오면 찾을 수 있다고 했어. yeogi-e omyeon chajeul su itdago haesseo. He said that I would find it if I come here.
5. 민경이가 자기가 한다고 했어. mingyeong-i-ga jagi-ga handago haesseo. Mingyeong said that she would do it herself. Examples Descriptive Verbs 6. 오늘 춥다고 했어요. oneul chupdago haesseoyo. "They said it would be cold today."/"I heard it would be cold today." 7. 이게 더 좋다고 했어요. ige deo jotago haesseoyo. "They said that this was better."/"I heard that this was better." 우리 엄마는 내가 예쁘다고 말했어. (My mother said that I am pretty.) 밧줄의 길이가 너무 부족하다고 했어요= I said that the length of this rope is not enough (insufficient) 우리 아빠는 자기가 어렸을 때 너무 행복했다고 했어요= My dad said that he was very happy when he was young 대부분 사람들이 이 영화의 주인공이 아주 잘생겼다고 말해요= Most people say that the main character of this move is very handsome 서울 사람들은 서울시 고등학교 교육과정이 불만족스럽다고 말해요 = The people of Seoul say that they are not satisfied with the Seoul high school curriculum
Also remember that있다 and 없다 are adjectives when they are used to indicate that one has, or does not have an object. This means that 있다 and 없다 should be quoted like other adjectives (also remember that ~ㄹ/을 수 있다/없다 falls in this category as well). For example:Also remember that 싶다 is an adjective as well.
저는 학교에 갈 수 없다고 했어요 = I said I can’t go to school 학생이 이해할 수 없다고 했어요 = The student said he can’t understand 그는 다음 주 목요일에 여행할 수 있다고 했어요 = He said that he will be able to travel next Thursday 저는 현금이 없다고 해서 현금인출기에 갔어요 = I said that I don’t have cash, so we went to the ATM 저는 여자 친구에게 같이 가고 싶은 데가 있다고 말했어요 = I told my girlfriend that there is a place that I want to go with her (together) 제가 계속 아무 것도 필요가 없다고 했지만 엄마가 선물을 사 줬어요 = I kept saying that I don’t need anything, but my mom bought me a present 저는 모든 나라가 민주주의 국가로 변하는 것을 상상할 수 없다고 말했어요 = I said that I can’t imagine all countries changing to democratic nations 나는 새로운 차를 사고 싶다고 했어 = I said that I want to buy a new car 이 장소에서 나무를 심고 싶다고 말했어요 = I said that I want to plant a tree in this location
ida
prsent 그가 의사라고 했어요 = He said he is a doctor 우리 선생님은 제가 나쁜 학생이라고 했어요 = Our teacher said I am a bad student 저는 우리 가족에게 이 사람이 저의 여자 친구라고 했어요 = I told my family that this person is my girlfriend 나는 너에게 그것이 해야 하는 일이라고 벌써 말했어 = I already told you that that is something you have to do 이거라고 말하다 [i-geo-ra-go ma-ra-da] = to say that it is this, to say that this is it 학생이라고 말하다 [hak-saeng-i-ra-go ma-ra-da] = to say that he/she is a student “감사합니다”라고 말하다 [gam-sa-ham-ni-da-ra-go ma-ra-da] = to say “감사합니다”
All these expressions above can be respectively substituted with: - 이거라고 하다 - 학생이라고 하다 - “감사합니다”라고 하다
이거라고 했어요. [i-geo-ra-go hae-sseo-yo.] = He/She/They said that it was this. 한국 사람이라고 했어요. [han-guk sa-ra-mi-ra-go hae-sseo-yo.] = He/She/They said that he/she/they was a Korean person. 뭐라고 말했어요? [mwo-ra-go ma-rae-sseo-yo?] = What did you say? = What did you tell them? = 뭐라고 했어요? 제가 일등이라고 들었어요. [ je-ga il-deung-i-ra-go deu-reo-sseo-yo.] = I heard that I was the first place winner. 여기가 TTMIK 사무실이라고 해요. [yeo-gi-ga TTMIK sa-mu-si-ri-ra-go hae-sseo-yo.] = They say that this is the TalkToMeInKorean office. 저는 “(person’s name)”(이)라고 해요. = [jeo-neun (person’s name)-i-ra-go hae-yo.] = My name is (person’s name).
Sample Sentences (of both -(이)라고 and -(ㄴ/는)다고) 1. 뭐라고 했어요? [mwo-ra-go hae-sseo-yo?] = What did you say? 2. 전화 온다고 했어요. [ jeon-hwa on-da-go hae-sseo-yo.] = I said that your phone is ringing. 3. 그 사람이 내일 온다고 해요. [geu sa-ra-mi nae-il on-da-go hae-yo.] = He says that he will come tomorrow.
6. 한국은 겨울에 정말 춥다고 들었어요. [han-gu-geun gyeo-u-re jeong-mal chup-da-go deu-reo-sseo-yo.] = I heard that it’s very cold in winter in Korea.
8. TTMIK이 좋다고 쓰세요. [TTMIK-i jo-ta-go sseu-se-yo.] = Write that TTMIK is good.
** Bonus Sample Sentences (using -(ㄴ/는)다는 before nouns) 11. TTMIK이 재미있다는 이야기를 들었어요. [TTMIK-i jae-mi-it-da-neun i-ya-gi-reul deu-reo-sseo-yo.] = I heard (a story that) someone (was) saying that TTMIK is fun
Past Tense + Quoting Verb Stem + -았/었/였 + -다고 (+ 하다/말하다/이야기하다/듣다/etc) 했다고 말했어요. They said that they had done it.
어제 그 영화 봤다고 했어요? [eo-je geu yeong-hwa bwat-da-go hae-sseo-yo?] = Did you say that you saw that movie yesterday?
지갑을 잃어 버렸다고 들었는데, 찾았어요? [ ji-ga-beul i-reo beo-ryeot-da-go deu-reot-neun-de, cha-ja-sseo-yo?] = I heard that you lost your wallet. Did you find it? 학생이라고 말하다 = to say that he/she is a 학생 (student) 이 사람이 학생이라고 말하다 = to say that 이 사람 (this person) is a 학생 (student) 이 사람은 학생이라고 말하다 = to say that 이 사람 (this person) is a 학생 (student)
공짜라고 하다 = to say that something is free of charge 이 책이 공짜라고 하다 = to say that this book is free of charge 이 책은 공짜라고 하다 = to say that this book is free of charge
Future Tense + Quoting Verb Stem + -(으)ㄹ 거 + -라고 (+ 하다/말하다/이야기하다/듣다/etc 할 거라고 말했어요.  They said that they will do it
친구들이 도와 줄 거라고 했어요. [chin-gu-deu-ri do-wa jul geo-ra-go hae-sseo-yo.] = My friends told me that they would help me.
past 그가 선생님이었다 = He was a teacher 그가 선생님이었다고 했어요 = He said he was a teacher
거리에 있었던 사람들이 시위자들이었다 = The people who were on the street were protesters 경찰관은 거리에 있었던 사람들이 시위자들이었다고 했어요 = The police officer said that the people who were on the street were protesters
future l geoyeyo
저는 밖에 갈 수 없을 거라고 했어요 = I said I can’t go outside/won’t be able to go outside 제가 제일 좋아하는 여자를 가리킬 거라고 했어요 = I said that I will point to the girl that I like the most
usages In addition to 말하다, there are many verbs in Korean that prefer to be used with a quoted clause. I’d like to show you a few of them.
1) To think: 생각하다 저는 그 여자가 별로 안 예쁘다고 생각해요 = I think that girl isn’t that pretty 캐나다와 미국이 비슷하지 않다고 생각합니다 = I think Canada and the US aren’t similar 저는 이 소설가가 다른 소설가들보다 월등히 낫다고 생각합니다 = I think this novelist is much better than other novelists
2) To believe: 믿다 If one “believes” something, quoted can be used. For example: 저는 우리 팀이 이길 거라고 믿어요 = I believe that our team will win
3) To call something: 부르다 When talking about what an object is “called,” ~을/를 can be attached to the object, and ~(이)라고 can be attached to the word that it is referred to. For example:
사람들은 그 건물을 한국타워라고 불러요 = People call that building “Korea tower”
Using this type of sentence is a more natural way to tell somebody what your name is. The common way for foreigners to introduce themselves in Korean would be:
“제 이름은 김의지입니다”
Although correct, it is kind of a direct translation of “my name is…” in English. In Korean, it is more common/natural to introduce yourself using ~(이)라고. In most cases, you add something before your name to describe yourself even more. For example:
안녕하세요, 저는 캐나다에서 온 김의지라고 합니다 = Hi, my name is 김의지, and I come from Canada (I am 김의지, from Canada)
4) To promise: 약속하다 When “promising” to do an action, it is common to add a future tense quoted construction to the action you promise to do. For example: 현금을 내일 주겠다고 약속했다 = I promised to give you (the) cash tomorrow 제가 아빠에게 숙제를 다 할 거라고 약속했어요 = I promised dad that I would do all my homewor 이 정보를 내일까지 다 입력해 줄 거라고 약속했어요 = I promised that I would input all of this information by tomorrow
5) Finishing a sentence with 그렇다 Often times you will hear the final word of a sentence with a quote (instead of being 말하다, 하다 or any of the other words specified above) as 그렇다 오빠가 이거를 안 한다고 말했어 오빠가 이거를 안 한다고 했어 오빠가 이거를 안 한다고 그랬어
= My older brother said he wasn’t going to do this
It is also possible to use these quoted conjugations to ask what a person says. For example, if you want to ask what somebody said, you can attach ~(이)라고 to 뭐
뭐라고? = What did you say? 뭐라고요? = What did you say? 뭐라고 했어요? = What did you say? 뭐라고 말했어요? = What did you say? 아빠가 뭐라고 말했어요? = What did dad say?
저는 내일 캐나다에 갈 거예요 = I’m going to Canada tomorrow 내일 캐나다에 갈 거라고요? = (You said that) you’re going to Canada tomorrow?
그는 돈이 없다고 했어요 = He said that he doesn’t have money 돈이 있다고? = (Did you say) he has money? 아니요, 없다고요 = No, (I said that) he doesn’t have money
Using Quoted Sentences with ~는 것
Adding ~는 것 after any of these plain form conjugations is an abbreviation of a quoted clause.
간다는 것 is abbreviation of 간다고 하는 것 갔다는 것 is an abbreviation of 갔다고 하는 것 가겠다는 것 is an abbreviation of 가겠다고 하는 것
desc 너의 여자 친구가 예쁘다는 것을 잊어버렸어 = I forgot (the fact that) that your girlfriend was pretty
action
그가 나를 싫어하는 것을 알아 = I know that he doesn’t like me 그가 나를 싫어한다는 것을 알아 = I know that (it is said that) he doesn’t like me
In place of “것” in these cases, it is quite common to find the words “사실” (fact) and“소문” (rumor). These are often used because these are nouns whose meaning inherently implies that something was said. For example:
그 여자가 다른 남자랑 애기가 있다는 소문이 있습니다 = There is a rumor that that woman has a baby with another man
그 여자의 남편이 비서랑 바람을 피운다는 소문이 있어요 = There is a rumor that that woman’s husband is having an affair with his secretary
Instead of:
그 여자의 남편이 비서랑 바람을 피우는 것이 있어요 = There is a rumor that that woman’s husband is having an affair with his secretary
This same principle can be used in the past tense as well (remember to use the plain form):
그녀가 시험에 떨어졌다는 소문을 들었어요 = I heard a rumor that she failed the test 부장님이 작년에 미국에 갔다는 것을 잊어버렸어요 = I forgot (the fact) that the boss went to America last year
future with ida
-을 거 + 이다 + ~라고 하는 것 = -을 거라는 것
그녀가 곧 결혼할 거라는 사실을 잊어버렸어요 = I forgot (the fact that) that she will be getting married soon 대통령이 한국에서 떠날 거라는 소문이 있다 = There is a rumor that the president will leave Korea soon
II.Reporting a Question:
Action Verbs~(느)냐 + 고 (Speaking/Listening Verb) Descriptive Verb  ~(으)냐고 Quoting Questions with 이다
Examples of question related words 1. 묻다 [mut-da] = to ask 2. 물어보다 [mu-reo-bo-da] = to ask 3. 말하다 [ma-ra-da] = to say 4. 질문하다 [jil-mun-ha-da] = to ask a question
Question: 누구예요? (Who are you?) Verb in intimate interrogative: 누구냐 + 고 묻다. 누구냐고 물었어요. (She) asked who (I) am?
1. 학생이에요? = Are you a student? 학생이냐고 물어봤어요.They asked me if I was a student. / I asked her if she was a student.
2. 뭐예요? = What is it?   뭐냐고 물어봤어요. = She asked what this is. / I asked what it is. / They asked what that is.
3. 누가 그렇게 말했어요? = Who said so? → 누가 그렇게 말했냐고 → 누가 그렇게 말했냐고 물었어요. = I asked who said so. / They asked who said such a thing. *
왜 안 왔냐고 물어봤는데, 대답을 안 해요. [wae an wat-nya-go mu-reo-bwat-neun-de, dae-da-beul an hae-yo.] =  I asked him why he didn’t come here, but he won’t answer.
저한테 어디 가냐고 말했어요. [ jeo-han-te eo-di ga-nya-go ma-rae-sseo-yo.] = He asked me where I was going.
저는 몇 살이냐고 물어보는 게 제일 싫어요. [ jeo-neun myeot sa-ri-nya-go mu-reo-bo-neun ge je-il si-reo-yo.] =  I hate it the most when people ask me how old I am.
5. 저도 가야 되냐고 물어봐 주세요. [ jeo-do ga-ya doe-nya-go mu-reo-bwa ju-se-yo.] = Please ask them if I have to come along, too.그가 무엇을 좋아하느냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked him what he likes (another translation could be:)
우리 아빠는 나에게 어디 가느냐고 물어봤어 = My dad asked me where I am going 우리 아빠는 나에게 어디 갔느냐고 물어봤어 = My dad asked me where I went 우리 아빠는 나에게 어디 가겠느냐고 물어봤어 = My dad asked me where I will go
지진이 어떻게 생기느냐고 물어봤다 = I asked how earthquakes happen/occur 사위가 어디 갔느냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked where my son-in-law went 저는 부장님에게 우리가 그렇게 해야 하느냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked our boss if we had to do it like that
That being said, Korean people will be more inclined to say that ~냐고 (without ~느) looks and sounds more naturalPersonally, I suggest that you use the simple ~냐고 which is the form that is more commonly said by Korean speakers. ~냐고 is also the form that I have always used whenever I quote a question. However, you should keep in the back of your mind that the official usage is ~느냐고.
desc 아빠에게 지금 편안하냐고 물어봤어 = I asked my dad if he is/was comfortable/relaxed 저는 친구에게 그 여자가 예쁘냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked my friend if that girl was pretty 이런 반팔이 집에 많으냐고 물어봤어 = I asked if there were many of these types of t-shirts at home 그 사람이 나한테 앞날에 뭐 하고 싶으냐고 물어봤어 = That person asked me what I want to do in the future
~느냐고 should be attached when quoting a question with 있다 or 없다. they are verbs in this case not adjectives
Just like with other verbs, 있느냐 and 없느냐 are often spoken/written as 있냐 and 없냐 and would be seen as correct by Korean people.
Here are some examples: 저는 그에게 수영할 수 있느냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked him if he could swim 아빠에게 엄마를 왜 함부로 대하고 있느냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked dad why he is treating mom disrespectfully
ida 나는 그 사람이 우리 선생님이냐고 물어봤어 = I asked if that person is our teacher 방학이 언제(이)냐고 물어봤어 = I asked when vacation is 그곳이 어디(이)냐고 물어봤어 = I asked where that place is 그것이 뭐(이)냐고 물어봤어 = I asked what that thing is 그 사람이 누구(이)냐고 물어봤어 = I asked who that person is 이 신사가 누구냐고 물어봤습니다 = I asked who this gentlemen is/was 저는 제 친구에게 한국으로 이사하고 싶은 이유가 뭐냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked my friend ‘what is the reason you want to move to Korea?’ 제가 점원에게 그 핸드폰이 좋은 핸드폰이냐고 물어봤지만 그는 모른다고 했어요 = I asked the salesperson if that cellphone is good, but he said that he didn’t know 저 학교를 다니는 학생들이 똑똑한 학생들이냐고 물어봤어요 = He asked if the students who attend that school are smart students
Also notice that by adding ~(이)냐고 to 이다, you can ask questions in sentences that use the ~ㄹ 것이다 future tense conjugation. For example:
나는 그들에게 결혼식에 갈 거냐고 물어봤어 = I asked if they were going to go to the wedding 나는 그에게 어디 갈 거냐고 물어봤어 = I asked where he is going to go 저는 그에게 앞날에 뭐 할 거냐고 물어보고 싶어요 = I want to ask what he will do in the future 그는 저한테 여자친구랑 언제 결혼할 거냐고 물어봤어요 = He asked me when I will marry my girlfriend
III.Reporting an Imperative statement.
[-(으)라] + 고 (Speaking/Listening Verb) Negative Quoted Imperative Sentences: ~지 말라고
pos 선생님은 학생들에게 열심히 공부하라고 했어요 = The teacher told the students to study hard 버스 아저씨가 나한테 올라타라고 했어요 = The bus driver told me to get on (the bus) 회사를 자유롭게 운영하고 싶으면 혼자 하라고 했어요 = I told him that if he wants to run his business freely, to do it himself 저는 직원들에게 불만이 있으면 저에게 아무 때나 말을 하라고 했어요 = I told the workers that if they have a complaint (are dissatisfied), to talk to me anytime 우리가 오랜만에 만날 거라서 저는 친구에게 우리 집에 오라고 했어요 = It will be a long time since we last met, so I told him to come to our house 한국어실력을 늘리고 싶으면 선생님이 한국 사람들이랑 의사소통을 많이 하라고 그랬어요 = If I want to expand my Korean language ability, my teacher told me to communicate a lot with Korean people
neg 그렇게 하지 말라고 했어 = I told you not to do it like that 불을 만지지 말라고 했어 = I told you not to touch the fire 선생님은 수업에 늦게 오지 말라고 했어요 = The teacher told us not to come late to class 선생님이 복도에서 뛰지 말라고 했어요 = The teacher said not to run in the hallway 여자친구는 다른 여자와 대화를 하지 말라고 했어요 = My girlfriend told me not to talk to (have a conversation with) other girls 제가 공부하는 동안 저에게 얘기하지 말라고 그랬어요 = I told him not to speak to me while I’m studying 중요한 내용이 없어서 회의를 참석하지 말라고 했어요 = He told me to not attend the meeting because there is nothing important (no important content) 남자 친구에게 계속 과장하지 말라고 했지만 그는 한 달에 거의 500 만 원을 번다고 했어요 = I told my boyfriend to not exaggerate, but he said that he almost makes 500 만 원 per month
requesting
아/어/여 달라고 하다 (a/eo/yeo dallago hada)  to ask someone to do - - is a grammatical structure that expresses "to ask someone to do something." 달라고 can be changed to 주라고 (jurago) using the verb 주다 (juda – “to give”), but 달라고 is more common. 달라고 cannot be used in its dictionary form on its own and must be used with -고, the particle that expresses a reported speech, to form a sentence. The mood, tense and voice are expressed in the last verb, 하다 (hada). Here, 하다 means “to say,” so it can be replaced with 말하다 (malhada – “to say”), 얘기하다 (yaegihada – “to talk”), 요청하다 (yocheonghada – “to request”) or 요구하다 (yoguhada – “to demand”).
1. 남동생이 자꾸 놀아 달라고 해요. [놀다] (namdongsaeng-i jakku nora dallago haeyo) - My younger brother keeps asking me to play with him.
2. 엄마 아빠가 성적표 보여 달라고 하셨어요. [보이다] (eomma appa-ga seongjeokpyo boyeo dallago hasyeosseoyo) - My parents asked me to show them my report card.
3. 민경 씨가 전화해 달라고 했어요. [전화하다] (mingyeong ssi-ga jeonhwahae dallago haesseoyo) - Mingyeong wants you to call her back.
4. 비한테 안아 달라고 할 거예요. [안다] (bi-hante ana dallago hal geo-yeyo) - I will ask Rain to hug me.
5. 친구한테 숙제 도와 달라고 했어. [돕다] (chingu-hante sukje dowa dallago haesseo) - I asked my friend to help me with my homework달다 is sometimes translated to “request” in these situations. For example:
휴지를 달라고 했어요 = I said “please give me a tissue”
As I mentioned, it is also possible to use 달다 when the original speaker of a quoted sentence asks for an action to be done for him/her. In essence, 달다 replaces 주다 in ~아/어 주다 in these cases. For example: 학생은 선생님에게 성적을 올려 달라고 했어요 = The student said to the teacher “raise my grades” 다음 주에 입주할 거라서 그때 와 달라고 했어�� = We will be moving into the new house next week, so I told them to come then 어떤 공무원이 우리 집에 와서 설문조사를 답해 달라고 했어요 = Some government worker came to our house and requested that we answer a survey 그들에게 조용히 해 달라고 했지만 그들은 아직 너무 시끄러워요 = I told them to “please be quiet,” but they are still very loud
request with butag 저는 부탁이 하나 있어요 = I have one favor 저는 더 자세한 설명을 부탁했어요 = I asked for a clearer explanation 남편에게 청소를 부탁했어요 = I asked my husband to take care of the cleaning (for me) 빨래를 아들에게 부탁하고 집에서 나왔어요 = I asked my son to take care of the laundry for me and left the house 저는 신입사원에게 그 일을 부탁했어요 = I asked the new employee to take care of that work (for me)
In the example sentences so far, 부탁하다 has come after a noun. If the favor (or what you are requesting) is an action, you can attach ~아/어 달라고 to the verb, followed by 부탁하다
저는 그에게 더 자세히 설명해 달라고 부탁했어요 = I asked him to explain it more clearly One more peculiar thing about the word “부탁하다” is that it is often said as “부탁(을) 드리다
“드리다” is the honorific form of “주다” and is used when the receiving person deserves high respect. When using “부탁,” the person receiving the favor is you, and you should never use 드리다 when talking about yourself receiving something. The way I think about it is that I am giving a request to somebody, which would allow me to use 드리다. For example:
엄마에게 그것을 사 달라고 부탁 드렸어요 = I asked my mother to buy that for me
-지 말라고 하다-ji mal-lago hada to say not to do something
is used when "someone tells the subject NOT to (VERB)".  
말라 [mal-la] is an 'imperative ending' that means "do not", "should not", or "never". 고 하다 [go hada] is a phrase meaning, "tells that..." or "says that..."
Formation Verb Stem + - 지 말라고 하다 [ji malrago hada] 믿다 [mittda] "to believe or to trust" 믿지 말라고 하다 "(He) says (I) should NOT trust..."
말하다 [malhada] "to talk / to tell" 말하지 말라고 하다 "(He) says (I) should NOT tell..."
운전하다 [unjeonhada]"to drive" 운전하지 말라고 하다 "(She) says (I) should NOT drive..."
Example Sentences
그는 아무도 믿지 말라고 하였습니다. Geuneun a-mudo mitji malrago hayeosseumnida. "He told (me) not to trust anyone."
아버지는 (저에게) 술을 마시지 말라고 하셨습니다. Abeojineun (jeo-ege) sureul masiji malrago hasyeosseumnida. "My father told (me) that I should not drink (alcohol)."
친구가 아무한테도 비밀을 말하지 말라고 했습니다. Chinguga amuhantedo bimireul malhaji malrago haesseumnida. "My friend told (me) not to tell his secret to anyone." 어머니는 절대 술을 마시고 운전하지 말라고 하셨습니다. Eomeonineun jeoldae sureul masigo unjeonhaji malrago hasyeosseumnida. "My mother told (me) I should never drink and drive."
IV. Reporting a Propositive + 고 (Speaking/Listening Verb)
내일 공원에 가자 = Tomorrow, let’s go to the park 여자 친구가 공원에 가자고 했어 = My girlfriend said “let’s go to the park”
선생님이 수업 시간 동안 열심히 공부하자고 했어요 = The teacher said “let’s study hardduring class time”
-대요,-래-daeyo,-reyo 요They say
you learned the following grammar points: -(ㄴ/는)다고 -(이)라고 These are used for quoting what someone has said and are also used with verbs related to speech. In that lesson, the following sample sentences were introduced: 뭐라고 했어요? = What did they say? 내일 온다고 했어요. = They said they would come tomorrow. 언제 온다고 했어요? = When did they say they would come? 이거 재미있다고 들었어요. = I heard that this is fun.
You can make all of the above sentences shorter by using the endings -(ㄴ/는)다고 해요 --> -(ㄴ/는)대요 -(이)라고 해요 --> -(이)래요 Although it’s basically the same thing, the latter forms are more commonly used in everyday
Action Verbs present+ -(느)ㄴ대요 pas+ -았/었/였대요 [Future Tense] Verbs + -(으)ㄹ 거 + 래요
action Ex) 지금 간대요. (= They say they are going now.) Ex) 어제 만났대요. (= I heard they met yesterday.) 내일 만날 거래요. (= He says he will meet them tomorrow.)
Descriptive Verbs pres+ -대요 [Past Tense] Descriptive Verbs + -았/었/였대요 fuDescriptive Verbs + -(으)ㄹ 거 + 래요
Nouns + -(이)래요 Nouns + -이었/였대요   Nouns + -일 거 + 래요
바쁘대요. (= He says that he’s busy now.) no se 추울 거래요. (= They say it will be cold.)
친구래요. (= She says that he’s a friend.)학생이었대요. (= They say they were students.) 마지막일 거래요. (= They say it will be the last time.)
When you use the -(ㄴ/는)대요/-(이)래요 endings, you usually deliver a piece of information that the other person doesn’t know, or that you think they don’t know. If you want to emphasize the fact that YOU, at least, have heard something and it might not be the exact truth, you need to use verbs such as “듣다 (= to hear)” and say “-다고/라고 들었어요
Sample Sentences 간대요[gandaeyo] -They say they are going." or "He says he's leaving." 갔대요.[gatdaeyo] - "I heard that they went there."/"He says that he went there." 갈 거래요. [gal geo-raeyo]- "They say they will go."or "He says he will go.
학생이래요. [haksaeng-iraeyo]-"I heard he was a student." or "They say he's a student.
이게 제일 좋대요. [i-ge je-il jo-tae-yo.] = They say that this is the best.
여기 정말 유명하대요. [yeo-gi jeong-mal yu-myeong-ha-dae-yo.] = They say this place is really famous.
몰랐대요. [mol-lat-dae-yo.] = He says he didn’t know
어딘지 모른대요. [eo-din-ji mo-reun-dae-yo.] = He says he doesn’t know where it is.
이 사람 정말 유명한 사람이래요. [i sa-ram jeong-mal yu-myeong-han sa-ra-mi-rae-yo.] = They say this person is a very famous person.
제 친구가 한국에 올 거래요. [ je chin-gu-ga han-gu-ge ol geo-rae-yo.] = My friend says he will come to Korea.
그 사람은 한국에 와 본 적이 없대요. [geu sa-ra-meun han-gu-ge wa bon jeo-gi eop-dae-yo.] = He says he’s never come to Korea
길 건너편에 우리 카페랑 비슷한 카페가 생겼대요![Gil geonneopyeon-e uri kape-rang biseutan kape-ga saenggyeotdaeyo!] -I heard that someone made a cafe similar to our cafe across the street.
2. 이름도 비슷하고, 분위기도 비슷하고, 메뉴도 비슷하대요![Ireum-do biseuthago, bunwigi-do biseuthago, menyu-do biseuthadaeyo!] -I heard that the name is similar, the atmosphere is similar, and the menu is similar too!
3. 전에 우리 카페에서 일했던, 민수가 만들었대요![Jeon-e uri kape-eseo ilhaetdeon, minsu-ga mandeureotdaeyo!] -I heard that Minsu, who used to work in our cafe, made that one.
This structure is translated as "I heard that..." or "They say that..." -대요 (daeyo) originally comes from -다고 (말)해요 (-dago (mal)haeyo), and for the present tense you add ㄴ and make it -ㄴ대요 (-ndaeyo), and for the past tense, you add 았/었/였 and make it -았/었/였대요 (-at/eot/yeotdaeyo). But with nouns, however, since the original form of the reported speech is [ noun + -(이)라고 (말)해요 ], you use the -(이)라고 ((i)rago) part and change it to -(이)래요 ((i)raeyo) instead of -대요 (daeyo). And this is applied to the future tense, too, because the word -거 (geo) in the future tense ending -ㄹ/을 거예요 (l/eul geo-yeyo) is a noun as well.
. -(ㄴ/는)다던데(요) and 2. -(이)라던데(요)They say -Answer required review   1. 제 친구가 지금 바빠요. = My friend is busy now. → 제 친구가 지금 바쁘대요. = My friend says that she is busy now.
2. 이게 제일 좋은 거예요. = This is the best one. → 이게 제일 좋은 거래요. = They say that this is the best on
지금 와요. = She’s coming now. 지금 온대요. = She says she’s coming now. 지금 온다던데요. = She says she’s coming now. (+ (ex) Should we wait?/What do you think?)
유명해요. = He’s famous. 유명하대요. = They say he’s famous. 유명하다던데요. = They say he’s famous. (+ (ex) But you said otherwise, right?)
* The same applies to -(이)래(요) and -(이)라던데(요).
학생이에요. = He’s a student. 학생이래요. = He says he’s a student. 학생이라던데요. = He says he’s a student. (+ (ex) What shall we do then?)
공원이에요. = They are at a park. / It is a park. 공원이래요. = They say they are at a park. 공원이라던데요. = They say they are at a park. (+ (ex) Shall we go there?)
Difference between -(ㄴ/는)다던데(요) and -(ㄴ/는)다는데(요) There is a slight difference in nuance between -던데 and -는데, and it’s based on the fact that -던 is usually associated with the past tense whereas -는 is associated with the present tense.
지금 온다던데요. = They said that they would come here now. 지금 온다는데요. = They are saying that they will come here now.
유명하다던데요. = I heard that she’s famous. 유명하다는데요. = He is saying that she’s famous.
* The same applies to -(이)래(요), -(이)라던데(요) and -(이)라는데(요).
학생이라던데요. = They told me that they were students. 학생이라는데요. = They say that they are students.
공원이라던데요. = They said that they were at a park. 공원이라는데요. = They say that they are at a park.
Sample Sentences 여기 위험하다던데요. [yeo-gi wi-heom-ha-da-deon-de-yo.] = I heard that this place is dangerous. (+ (ex) What do you think?)
혼자 갈 거라던데요. [hon-ja gal geo-ra-deon-de-yo.] = She said she would go there alone. (+ (ex) Shall I talk to her again? / You can’t go with her.) 3.
그 사람도 모른다던데요. [geu sa-ram-do mo-reun-da-deon-de-yo.] = He said that he doesn’t know either. (+ (ex) So why keep asking him?
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asillyplace · 5 years
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For Part 1 of this series, click here. For Part 2, click here.
In the bowels of Patrick Gymnasium, home of the University of Vermont basketball teams, a student sits by herself in an office.
She probably figures she’ll have a humdrum afternoon, but that’s before something happens that, if nothing else, may make a funny story for her friends.
At least I hope she finds it funny.
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After lunch, I drive over to the UVM athletic facilities, starting with Gutterson Field House.
The Catamounts have had a few players hockey fans might have heard of.
    It’s always a little weird wandering around a sports arena, plus there’s construction going on at Gutterson.
Then again, there are signs apologizing for the mess during the work, and none of the workmen seem to mind me being there, so I go about the business of checking out the hockey rink.
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But I’m mostly there to address a nemesis, someone I’ve held a grudge against for 14 years, over at Patrick Gymnasium.
Taylor Coppenrath has no idea who I am — which makes sense, as we’ve never been in the same place at the same time — but I bet most Syracuse basketball fans could remember who he is without a ton of prompting.
Funny thing is, he wasn’t even Vermont’s leading scorer in that game, but for some reason, he’s the one I blame, and he’s the one whose name I curse to this day.
So that’s why I want to see how the school glorifies him, so I can mutter under my breath in pretend outrage.
There’s not much else to see in the lobby at Patrick, which is being replaced as the basketball arena by a new, $95 million athletics facility. The doors to the gym are closed, and while I can hear the sounds of people playing basketball on the other side, I don’t know if that’s pickup or practice, and I’ve already been thrown out of one college practice in recent times.
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I’m about ready to leave when I see a reference to a Hall of Fame downstairs, but when I get there, the door is closed and the room is dark.
There’s a young woman in the office across the hallway, so I ask her if it’s open. Dumb question, I know, but what the heck?
She says she doesn’t know.
I ask if there’s any way to see the gym.
She doesn’t know that, either.
I’m not upset at all by this, but she feels the need to apologize, and that’s when she says the four magic words …
”I’m just an intern.”
I used to have interns, and on the first day, I told them — sometimes the first thing I told them — that I never, ever wanted to hear them say they were “just” an intern.
It was OK to say they were interns — although I would have preferred they not if they didn’t have to, I also didn’t want them to lie — but if you tell someone you’re “just” anything, especially an intern, you’re giving that person permission to treat you like you don’t matter.
Yes, they were only there for a short time, and most of them weren’t being paid, but they were working, and more importantly, they were representing us, and they deserved the professional respect that came along with that.
It’s basically the part of my philosophy that says “If you don’t take yourself seriously, no one else will.”
So I tell her this, with perhaps a little unnecessary intensity for what was intended to be friendly advice, especially since I’m both a total stranger and easily old enough to be her father.
To be honest, I think I scare her a little bit, although she does laugh when I say she’s representing the department, even if it’s to “schlubs like me” who come to her office with silly questions.
I hope she can laugh about it later, and that she’s running the joint someday.
A day in Burlington, Part 3: A little career advice For Part 1 of this series, click here. For Part 2, click here. In the bowels of…
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missstormcaller · 7 years
Text
WE DO knot ALWAYS LOVE YOU Part 15 Full Translation.
The Ceremony
1
pages 158-168
Human world.
Karakura Town - Sakurabashi park.
This park constructed on the hills overlooking the railway track was Inoue Orihime's favourite place. Even though it is only a small park with a few dozen or so trees and couple of benches, every bench is placed in front of a great view and there is no disappointment wherever you sit. Amongst those, Orihime particularly liked the bench facing opposite the railway track, she loved watching the trains and the town from there.
Kuchiki Rukia and Abarai Renji were currently sitting side by side on that very bench. The time was around 10 p.m. and the small night view of Karakura Town was spread out below them. Because Renji was not as familiar with the Human World as much as Rukia was, every time a train would pass by he would curiously follow it with his eyes.
"Kuchiki saaan!"
Orihime dashed up the stairs leading up the hill whilst waving her arm. When the pair stood up and waved back, she raised her voice in surprise, "huh? You're here together with Abarai kun too!?"
"Yo! You're looking well, Inoue!"
"Yup, I'm well!"
Orihime replied whilst ascending the final few steps on the staircase, "fuu, I've arrived~" she said, recovering her breath when had reached the top.
"I'm sorry for taking up your time this late"
With Rukia in the middle, the three of them sat down beside each other on the bench.
"Not at all, don't worry about something like that! I'm so happy you came to see me!"
"How about the store? Is it still thriving as usual?"
"Uh huh! Business is already booming everyday!"
Orihime currently works as a regular employee of a bread and cake shop called 'ABCookies'. After her older brother Inoue Sora passed away, she was getting along by receiving assistance with living expenses from a distant relative; but because of the fact that the relative had originally declared that they would only provide assistance up till high school graduation, since the summer of three years prior, Orihime had been searching for a job placement for after graduation. During that time, she was working at the shop part-time, the shop manager who had learnt of her situation insisted that Orihime be fully employed by the company.
"Rangiku san and Soifon San have also often come to buy things"
"Lieutenant Matsumoto I can understand, but captain Soifon too……!?"
"……Yoruichi san gets her to buy it for her, am I right?"
"Ah that’s true" Rukia thought, understanding completely.
"So then, what’s happening today? You're even here together with Abarai kun……"
Orihime observed the couple. For some reason or another, she felt that the air that flowed between the pair had become even more intimate than before, Orihime stood up, "oohh!" she said in a loud voice.
"Ehh! Wait, could it be!? Ah, perhaps the two of you……the two of you……!"
With eyes wide open she stared at them in round eyed wonder, Orihime's cheeks were instantly coloured red. Smiling with her whole face, Rukia tried to convey the message without saying a word but-----
"S-s- sta- started dating!?"
------Orihime's intuition was off the mark twice as much.
"Pfft! Hahahaha!! Dating……no, but in a sense it’s somewhere along those lines!!"
Orihime looked blankly at Renji who had burst into laughter, Rukia then spoke.
"Inoue, me and Renji……today, we completed our nyuseki"
"Eh………eeeeeehh!? Nyuseki……that means, you're married……right!?"
Rukia nods, 'that's correct'. Orihime inhaled a deep breath, she began to sob even as a bright smile remained on her face.
"Inoue!?"
"Haaa……uuu……pardon meee……! This is such a pleasant surprise…… I've become an emotional mess……!"
Standing up, Rukia tenderly embraced Orihime's shoulders leading her to sit on the bench again.
"Con….gratulationsss……Kuchiki……sannn……"
Orihime was heaving with sobs as Rukia rubbed her back whilst nodding and uttering comforting words.
"……You fool, what are you grinning at……?"
Rukia said knitting her eyebrows together, noticing Renji smirking whilst looking their way.
"it’s kinda nice to think……You going over the top to take care of someone like that just now, since I’ve never seen you like that you knowww……”
Although he didn't say it, he actually thought that her face full of affection was beautiful.
"Haa…. I'm okay now……thank you, Kuchiki san! I truly congratulate the both of youuu!!"
Orihime smiled sweetly.
"……Thank you, Inoue"
With a finger, Rukia gently wiped away the single trickle of a teardrop that had just escaped.
After completely hearing and laughing about the troublesome story around the nyuseki from the other two, Orihime casually asked Rukia, "you've told Kurosaki kun about it already right?"
"No, not yet. We were thinking to go and announce it to Ichigo after this but……I wonder if it's too late now"
Saying that, she looked up at Renji. "He probably stays up late anyhow" Renji stated definitively without any sort of basis.
"It's really okay that I was told first……?"
Feeling a little shy and fidgety, Rukia hesitated a few times as she replied to Orihime.
"Th-that's because, Inoue I consider you……my……b-best girl-friend! So therefore……I thought…I should tell you first……"
She spoke as her last few words became a little mumbled.
"……your face is redder than the time I asked you to marry me ya know"
"Sh-shut up!!"
Watching as Rukia grew red to her ears, Orihime laughed and became teary eyed once again.
"Thank you, Kuchiki san! I admire you very much too!!"
After seeing the couple off, Orihime hurried back to her house. Saying "I'm home" to the portrait of her late older brother before catching her breath, Orihime put in a phone call to Dokugamine Riruka.
"……Hellooo?"
After four rings, Riruka's somewhat displeased sounding voice could be heard.
"Sorry for calling so late! It's me Orihime"
"When I went to your shop last week, I told you didn't I!? I said I'm busy with the launch of a new brand right now! Does this mean you didn't listen when I was talking!?"
Riruka is currently working as a designer in the apparel department of an enterprise managed by Yukio Hans Vorarlberna. Jackie Tristan also works at the same business but she is constantly flying all over the world because she is engaged in work concerning the aid of developing countries, therefore she is almost never seen.
"Of course, I was listening to you! But this is a bit of an emergency……"
"Emergency……? In that case, please tell me about the matter quickly!"
"Yes! Thank you, Riruka chan! Well……"
Whilst annoyed that she did not speak with haste, Riruka listened as Orihime talked about Rukia getting married, and the fact that the ceremony that was to be held two weeks later, is fast approaching.
"So then, I want to give her something, a gift, but what would be good……? Something handmade……that can be used at the wedding ceremony, I think something like that would be nice……"
"It has to be something suitable enough for a beginner to make……"
The sound of fingertips tapping on a table could be heard through the phone.
"What about a bouquet or a ring pillow……but that world has standard traditional style dress for a Shinto ceremony, doesn't it?"
"Oh, right!…… Eh, well then that means, Kuchiki san, in a Shiromuku*……!? Haaaa, that would be absolutely cuuute……!"
(*Traditional Japanese white Kimono for brides)
"Don't lose your cool……moreover that Rukia girl is a noblewoman isn't she? Since everything will probably be prepared to the highest of quality, if an amateur decides to makes things like traditional style dress accessories, it may pale in comparison……"
"Ohh!!"
In response to Orihime's loud voice, Riruka complained with even more volume, "be quite!! Don't suddenly burst out into a ridiculously loud voice!!"
"Sorry sorry……well, how about a dress? A wedding dress!"
"Huhhh!? There is no way a beginner would be able to properly make something like a dress in just two weeks you know!?"
"But, if I try my very best….!"
"Abso-lutely impossible!!"
"Uuu……! I wanted to see Kuchiki san in western style garments too……"
Orihime muttered with deep disappointment.
"……in that case, how about a veil?"
The sounds of rhythmical tapping on a keyboard could be heard clearly through the earpiece, "I looked it up just now, it seems there's a fair amount of people who like to combine western hairdressing with a Shiromuku nowadays" Riruka informed.
Orihime imagined Rukia's form.
A wataboshi* (*traditional bridal hood-like headdress) will surely suit well with that elegant small face of hers she thought. However, it seemed to her that the people who would be assembled there could more fully enjoy and appreciate Rukia's beauty if  she could be seen through a veil that was completely transparent rather than a wataboshi that would cover a great majority of her head.
"I think that's a very good idea……!"
"If it's a veil, then you basically just cut soft tulle, even an idiot can do it. And then, how about adding on some embroidery with fine thread around the hem? If you do small embroidery, even if it's somewhat poor, as long as it’s seen from a distance it will be unnoticeable"
"Yes yes, I want to add on embroidery!"
"I'll write down a set of instructions and send it together with the materials first thing in the morning. Your address hasn't changed has it?"
"Eeeh!? No that's fine, thank you very much for your help! I'm extremely grateful just because I was able to get advice from you! Afterwards, I myself will go and look for……"
"Huuuh!? You called me when I'm busy, don't hold back now!"
Riruka held her phone in one hand, with the hand that was vacant, she had found what she was looking for, "hm, this will also be of use……" one by one she had ticked off the materials.
"Thank you Riruka chan, but really it's okay……"
"shut up, I told you to be quiet!! ……I'm almost done! I've already disappeared twice with the intention of not having to deal with you lot anymore! And yet, since we met again three years ago, you’ve been using every possible pretext to call me about things like ……a new stock of tasty doughnuts, and whatever else! You understand me Orihimeee!?"
"Yes, sorry! ……but Riruka chan, you always come to buy……"
"I only pass by that shop because it's tasty there, things like whether or not you are working there does not concern me in the slightest!!"
"Pardon me~~~!!"
Phone calls with Riruka always eventually becomes a lecture. Orihime witlessly calls Riruka who likes scolding her like this. Listening to an angry Riruka's voice who was full of vitality as she spoke, 'ah, we're not so lonesome anymore', she’d think as her heart would become warm.
The following day, a package arrived from Riruka, it contained a great deal of materials and a document with a set of instructions, and------
[I spoke a bit too harshly yesterday
Sorry]
-----Written down on a note.
End.
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Delaware County residents are about to witness the demise of a long-standing local landmark. The iconic Riddle Thrift Shop will close its doors on Jan. 31, ending what has been a thriving community mecca for consignors, shoppers and volunteers for over half of a century.
According to Main Line Health, Riddle Thrift Shop will close because Riddle Hospital is preparing to undergo a campus modernization project in order to better meet the health care needs of patients and community members. The master facility plan includes the construction of a new patient tower to be built on the current front parking lot of the hospital, requiring the hospital to reconfigure traffic flow and parking on the campus. New parking for patients and visitors will be built in the area of the Annex Building, where the Riddle Thrift Shop is currently located.
“With construction soon to begin, the safety of our visitors and staff remains our top priority,” Main Line Health wrote in a recently released statement. “With this in mind, and with deep regret, the Riddle Thrift Shop will close ... We have worked diligently to find a new home for the thrift shop, but unfortunately, we have not yet been able to identify a new location. Despite this news, we remain excited and energized about how the modernization of the Riddle Hospital campus will improve the quality of life and access to exceptional care for our Riddle Hospital family and the communities we serve.”
Riddle Thrift Shop currently has three paid staff members. In an age when many organizations are hurting for volunteers, the thrift shop has a vibrant pool of more than 100 active volunteers. The shop, which opened in 1960, currently occupies 8,000 square feet of space located within the Annex Building on the front side of Riddle Hospital’s campus. The top floor is dedicated to clothing, shoes and accessories and the lower level showcases furniture and household items, as well as encompasses a large consignment area. Over the past ten years, average proceeds, raised to benefit the hospital, have ranged between $76,000 and $100,000 per year, after payment of salaries and overhead. The shop works with 30 different consignors each day of operation.
According to Mary Kate Coghlan, Main Line Health communications and legislative affairs director, Main Line Health has searched extensively to relocate the shop, but no suitable space has been found.
“We have explored dozens of properties, and have not yet found a location close enough to the hospital with the amount of square feet and space for parking needed, where we could safely afford rent based on the anticipated income,” she stated. “While we are saddened that we have not been able to find a new location for the thrift shop, we remain hopeful and excited about this next chapter in Riddle Hospital’s future, which will further advance our promise and commitment to serve as many members of the community as possible.”
Not all of the volunteers, consignors, and shoppers are quite as delighted about the thrift shop’s demise. Many have had an emotional response, not just to the loss of their beloved thrift shop, but to the way they were, or weren’t, told about its closing.
Derek Kay of Drexel Hill, a volunteer at Riddle Thrift Shop for five years, has initiated a petition to not only voice the volunteers’ and consignors’ displeasure over the way dedicated volunteers were treated by not being properly informed of the closure, but to protest how the shop is closing without a relocation option. In just the first few days, he had upward of 60 signatures, and the volunteer says, he has only just begun.
“Riddle Thrift Shop is a mainstay in our hospital community and in our surrounding communities,” stated an emotional Mimi Haggerty of Wallingford, who has shopped and consigned at the shop for over 20 years. “We enjoy consigning, making a little money, shopping, helping Riddle Hospital, and seeing friends and family in the shop.
“There must be other parcels of land that could handle a new parking garage. For the sake of the Riddle community and our hospital, I hope Main Line Health rethinks their decision to demolish Riddle Thrift Shop. It has an important community function and we want it in our lives.”
Although they began hearing closure rumors buzzing around in the early fall, volunteers say that they only found out officially on Nov. 12 that the shop’s days are numbered, after Alycia Mallon-Buhle, chairwoman of the Auxiliaries of Riddle Hospital, stopped by to talk with a few volunteers who were on duty. She allegedly left a paper about the closing on a table for other volunteers to read. Kay said another sign was put up with only one week notice, on the shop’s door and on the Riddle Thrift Shop website for consignors to see that no more consignments would be taken after Nov. 22.
“Consignors were arriving with carloads of consignments and had to turn around and go home,” Kay said. “It wasn’t fair how anyone was told. We volunteers are all for hospital advancement, but we are offended by how the volunteers have been informed about all this. We feel taken advantage of because we are unpaid workers, we weren’t worthy of advance notice. If we all had been on the payroll, we probably would be out on the corner with picket signs in hand and have a legitimate complaint about non-communication.”
Marion Brower, has volunteered at the thrift shop for three years, but has shopped there for 40 years.
“We are emotionally hurt by how, after all these years, raising all of this money for the hospital, and generously giving our time and talents, that we would be treated at the bottom of the totem pole when it comes to getting information about the closing,” Brower said. “This isn’t just about the volunteers. It’s also about the community. The elderly and others on limited budgets shop here. Many depend on the bargains at the shop so that they can afford their medications or food and other essentials. We are a means for low-cost shopping.”
“After all the hours and all the years that we put into this shop, we feel like we no longer matter and that hurts — it’s belittling,” volunteer Peggie Cacciatore of Brookhaven, who recently received an American Hospital Association 2,000 Hour Award, said sadly.
When asked about those currently working and volunteering at the thrift shop, Coghlan, speaking on behalf of Main Line Health, replied, “Our philosophy is to treat all employees and volunteers with respect and compassion, and we will work diligently with the employed staff to support their transition to a role within the organization or externally. We are hopeful that those who currently volunteer at the thrift shop will be interested in other volunteer positions available within the hospital.”
Volunteers want more information and answers, but are growing frustrated because no one is talking about what happens in February.
“For some reason, everything is hush-hush,” said Ronni McCarthy of Aston, who has volunteered at Riddle Thrift Shop for four years and says the customers, consignors and volunteers are like one big family. “We get shushed every time we ask a question or talk to consignors or shoppers about the closure. Customers are asking us over and over, and I really don’t have too much to tell them. If we had more information, we may not be as upset. It’s like management is under a gag order.”
Kay said the sign that volunteers posted in the shop, encouraging attendance at an upcoming Middletown council meeting, was silently removed by management.
When thrift shop manager Peg Stacy and assistant manager Martha Marino were contacted for information, they both referred all inquiries to Main Line Health public relations department.
Before it’s all said and done, the volunteers hope to rally their local government officials, as well as the community at large, to help them find a suitable site and realize their dream of relocation. They want to continue the hospital auxiliary’s longstanding tradition of supporting Riddle Hospital.
“The volunteers, consignors and shoppers are the heart and soul of Riddle Thrift Shop,” commented Beverly Ferguson of Essington, who has shopped at the thrift shop since she was 17 years old. Now at age 70, she continues to shop and consign. “No matter where it’s located, the people will still come. We hope someone in the community will step forward and offer us another option. We are open to all  suggestions and ideas.”
Pat Metzger of Brookhaven, a six-year volunteer at Riddle Thrift Shop, said that she talked to Donna Kaiser, Main Line Health volunteer director, about the closure and possible future relocation.
“I met with Donna and she told me there is no opening on the Riddle campus to assimilate the thrift shop, but that we shouldn’t give up hope,” Metzger said. “We have no contacts for the Main Line Health administration, but wish we knew an administrator or board member to whom we could voice our concerns. After all we have given to the hospital, we would just appreciate the courtesy of meeting with someone in administration to answer our questions and concerns and just listen to us. I think we deserve that.”
The volunteers have not lost hope and would like nothing more than to find a shop, not far from Riddle Memorial Hospital, to do what they have always enjoyed doing — raising money for the hospital. They say that they would like nothing more, than to have Main Line Health’s support in their effort.
In a scan of the program booklet from the Riddle Hospital annual volunteer recognition luncheon held this past April, numerous thrift shop volunteers were honored for hitting milestone service of up to 18,000 hours and 45 years of service.
“At the volunteer luncheon in April, we sat at the Drexelbrook and heard all the speakers talk about how wonderful the volunteers are,” Metzger related. “And then this happened six months later. It made us think that, in reality, we aren’t too valued or appreciated.”
“We’d hate to think it’s all about money and the human impact just doesn’t matter,” Kay chimed in. "We understand it's business and the need to move forward with progress, but there's more to this situation than just closing a building to make room for a parking lot."
“We all feel that closing Riddle Thrift and not relocating is a terrible disservice to the whole community,” said four-year volunteer Janet Gemsheim of Middletown.  “It is wrong on so many levels. Many volunteers make this their purpose for getting up in the morning and their social circle. Many consignors come the same day every week and have their own new friendships and small groups that support each other and share time, as well as, the money they get for cleaning out their houses and those of relatives to provide a little extra income.  Think of the things that have been repurposed and not disposed of in a landfill - one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. There is always something wonderful and unique to be found there. It is a place for the hospital personnel and visitors to drop in while waiting for loved ones in surgery or a break from a difficult visit. The community at large needs a place to affordably cloth their family and get a book, or a treat that they cannot afford otherwise.  Main Line Health is supposed to be a haven and healing place for this community, but they are only looking at the bottom line, not the people factor. Closing the thrift shop will be a huge loss for this hospital and all these people if the thrift shop cannot continue somewhere else.”
Shopper Nancy Schober feels the pain of the closing. “The Riddle Thrift Shop is a wonderful story of a 'Riddle' family of salaried employees and a larger group of devoted, loyal volunteers working side by side to make Riddle successful over these many years. The shop has been multi-generational with grandmothers, daughters and grandchildren who have visited, consigned, shopped and purchased. Some people made it an outing to visit the shop then catch lunch. Some people stopped at the shop after visiting someone at the hospital. Others came to consign to earn some cash. Riddle Thrift Shop has a story to be told and that should be heard. It should not face its demise with just a whimper with all the good deeds it has provided for not only the community but many others that visited the shop.”
In addition to the loss of community and fellowship created by the shop, volunteers and shoppers also cite the shop’s rich history as another reason to continue its existence.
The September 2019 issue of the RiddleGram, a newsletter published by the Associated Auxiliaries of Riddle Memorial Hospital since 1959, reviewed the history of the Riddle Thrift Shop. According to the article, the auxiliaries opened a thrift shop in Media in 1961. In the 1960s, there were 17 auxiliaries and 700 members. The Riddle Thrift Shop started on Monroe Street in Media in a building leased for $125 a month. They were given $7,000 to finance the first year of operation.
Each auxiliary was responsible for operating the shop for two weeks. The shop moved several times over the next ten years and made a profit of $70,000 along the way. In April 1972, the Associated Auxiliaries Board agreed to loan the Riddle Thrift Shop $30,000 to begin construction of a new building on the grounds of Riddle Hospital. Southeast National Bank loaned the additional $100,000 needed. The doors of the new shop opened on March 13, 1973. The $100,000 loan was paid by February 1975 with the help of the Women’s Board.
By the end of 1975, the Riddle Thrift Shop had repaid the Associated Auxiliaries in full. Total cost of the 6,000 square-foot building and 24 parking spaces was $143,087. A two story addition was added in 1983 at a cost of $160,797. The parking lot was enlarged at a cost of $21,500. A freight elevator was added in 1997. The thrift shop went from a tiny rented space on Monroe Street in 1961 to a two-story 10,000 square-foot building by 1983. The shop has contributed close to $4 million to the Associated Auxiliaries.
“Closing Riddle Thrift Shop is a community issue, not just a loss to the consignors, shoppers and volunteers,” Kay remarked. “We hope a church or school or anyone with property or vacant space will come forward and offer their site for the thrift shop relocation.”
Although no longer taking consignments, Riddle Thrift Shop plans to be open for shopping until Jan. 31. No going-out-of-business sales on in-store merchandise have been announced as of this date.
For more information, hours of operation, or updates about the closure, visit www.riddlethriftshop.com.
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jacewilliams1 · 6 years
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My adventures in the right seat
After an initial stint of flight instructing for pilots who were either owning or renting, my father, zealously attached to his Cub, met a fellow at the airfield, and conversation revealed he owned a Commander 112 and desired to begin instrument training. Dad obtained his phone number, I called him, and soon after I was in the right seat of this pilot-oriented aircraft.
Our first instrument flight was his last, as a student. He lasted less than 5 minutes under the hood. I never got him positioned under it again, although we flew many flights together, several cross country, with me as the instrument rating if needed.
My first beginning-to-license student was a colleague of my other employment. I contacted an FBO at in Columbus (CMH) and utilized their Beech Model 19 Musketeer Sport. My friend was a good student, first or otherwise. After work our offices often became a ground school. He passed his private checkride in fine style. I later instructed another work colleague, our director of engineering. I had to repeat no technical explanations; he was also quick learning to flying the Cessna 172
I neglected some requests; a few VFR pilots requested to fly instrument approaches under the hood. I never said no – just had them attempt steep 360s and a few other activities such as holding a heading with speed changes. They never repeated the request. I would not provide the first stride to someone’s illicit flying.
You’ll meet all types of people as a flight instructor.
A friend of a friend’s son had been accepted to the US Air Force Academy, and he desired to find out if he liked flying. I contacted a colleague and CFII who was instructing at The Ohio State University Flight Training Clinic. He inquired and there was room for me. I began instruction in Cessna 152 N190SU; I learned to fly in Cessna 150 N19OSU. This “new” model had a rear view mirror which Cessna listed as a $17 extra. Unless one wanted to shave in the plane I never found any use of it.
My student was a senior in high school, a football and basketball team member and fit easily into the student–teacher relationship. He did not make a significant mistake from first flight to license sign-off. He never made an approach or landing that I had to correct. I would take control of the Cessna on base, flying too low with the nose not heading in the correct direction, then return the control to him – and he recovered and landed. I never followed up if he entered the Academy. If he didn’t, the Air Force missed a good pilot.
Later after flying with many others I concluded the positive response to instruction was approximately inversely proportional to the age of the student. Many intricate factors are involved, such as: what if I crash (wife and kids); I should be at the office (apprehension of not being able to perform, especially BFR flying); other expenses. I found less variation in instrument students than private students with the exception of my friend not “fitting” under the hood.
I did not utilize a hood for instrument flying during my private lessons; a plastic panel when detached from overhead was positioned behind the front window which allowed only one color through. Goggles were worn which only allowed a different wave length thus no forward visibility. This was similar to actual in-clouds flying. This was good for scanning, however, it provided a limited view outside the cockpit.
Instructing at the OSU Flight Clinic was a mixture of friends and students assigned to me by the very capable flight coordinator. A student, a friend of a friend, was a psychologist at a state penitentiary. He mentioned several different thought patterns he had experienced, and he was a very good student exhibiting considerable enthusiasm.
A relative of his was scheduled to marry, at a location in Alabama. He determined we would fly to the wedding and the flight school had a Piper PA 29 (counter-rotating Twin Comanche) with four seats. He shook the family tree and found two distant relatives to fit in the back seats. The not-to-miss event was scheduled for late Saturday afternoon, and I filed up and headed south to Alabama. This flight was a good experience for the shrink. The total attendance of the wedding was less than 15, and I sat right side first row with the groom – otherwise he would have been alone.
Another student was a friend, PhD-type, very aggressive and eager to get in the air. I mentioned the medical exam, including the student certificate, was required. The next day he presented me with his student certificate, ready to fly. We flew in winter. I sent him on his first, short cross-country returning to land at Columbus then the short distance to OSU. He slid off the runway at CMH into the snow bank at the edge of the runway. This was an accident because the nose gear was pushed back, bending the firewall. No problem. I sent him off on his long cross-country, the same CMH to OSU leg for the last two locations. He again slid off the runway into snow at CMH, just an incident this time. This was the only accident or incident of my teaching career.
There’s not a better feeling in the world for a CFI.
A young fellow drove some distance to begin his commercial, and he flew whenever he accumulated funds for the next lesson. His tenacity was rewarded; he flew gas pipeline patrol low and slow in a Cessna 152. The most frequent (and at least potential) problem he encountered was digging near the underground pipeline. He’d call the office and they would send someone to advise the line was near.
I had three students who did not complete the course. The first was the emotional hood conflict previously described, and the other two were private students, both professional gentlemen. One was a financial type. After the first lesson, I walked with him to his car – and saw my first and only student driving a Rolls Royce. He operated from two offices: one in Columbus, Ohio, and the other London. He had a few Rolls Royces, note plural, at both locations, as he “collected” them. I flew with him for four lessons, and prior to the scheduled fifth lesson, he told me he would not continue, as he now understood flying did not fit into his lifestyle.
The other student was somewhat the opposite. He owned a business, as I came to understand with a partner, and my new student could not wait to get in the air. I won’t attempt to classify his emotional profile, only to say he was very excitable. I admit I did not react to this vibrating personality by discussing the need to slow down and smell the roses rather than to trample the vegetation. My first mistake came when it was time for his dual cross-country. I gave him three airports to which we would fly. He wanted to take his partner with him to “demonstrate” flying.
I should have rejected this, but didn’t. I scheduled a Cessna 172, the instrument trainer, and took off from the first airport, Findlay, OH (FDY). The next destination was east, and an east-west interstate highway passes near the airport but there is also one going south. Our pilot made the map fit the ground and headed south. I attempted to get the compass to head in the direction of our desired destination. Finally I pointed out the different directions the government had constructed the highways. I should not have allowed a passenger on a first cross-country flight, as it most likely increased his vibration frequency.
Our final flight came not too long after his southern aberration. After some dual in the pattern, he was high on short final. He applied full flaps and pointed the spinner at the numbers, about 200 feet above the middle of the runway. Just above stall I commanded, “go around” and he dropped the flap handle all four notches and raised the nose of the 150! I grabbed the wheel, added full power and lowered the nose – stall warning chattering. The wheels did not touch, however they were very close when we began to climb.
I lost it. I “chewed” on him until I had the plane back on the ground. I never heard from him again. It was my responsibility, the instructor, to keep students from stumbling into this precarious situation, let alone get out of it. Later I considered contacting him, but my conclusion was to leave it alone since I might save his life some flight in the future.
Right seat adventures continued with pilots owning an aircraft without an instrument rating. An evening flight to Illinois and dinner with the pilot’s brother, a professor at The University of Illinois, was a typical “Can you fly with me?” trip. A longer trip to which I added vacation days was the flight to Homestead (X51), Florida, with a friend visiting his brother at the Air Force base next to the Everglades. I flew on to Key West the next morning and then to The Bahamas. This was off season, and on short final at North Eleuthera and I called the resort on their Unicom for a room – there was no one else staying there at the time. I had an interesting return flight to Miami, landing at Bimini for lunch where two fellows were waiting at the airport for a ride to Miami to return with a boat. They rode in the back to the US; all of us through Customs and Immigration friendly and quick.
Sometimes quick action is called for.
My second student to fly into a profession was the friend of a friend. My friend had a Cessna 172, an in-between model. This was a 1960, first of the swept tail and, as Cessna labeled it, “revised” landing gear. The back window appeared in 1963. The rear window fit close to the functionality of the rear view mirror. Anyone ever hear of a pre-1960 172 landing gear collapse? The student was a Columbus policeman, previously with the narcotics squad and now vice. He had interesting encounters to reveal. The Columbus Police flew Hughes helicopters, and he decided obtaining a fixed-wing license would increase the probability of being transferred to the flight department. It did, and he became the left seat spotlight operator.
The department procedure was to remove the left cyclic, leaving it at the office. He was promoted to pilot, then sent to The Ohio State University flight department for his training. Before the first flight, the instructor inquired, “What do you know about flying a helicopter?” He answered, “nothing.” In the air after the demonstration, the student was given the controls, which he flew not as a know-nothing pilot. The instructor landed and asked, “Now how much do you know?” Later he became an instructor.
I was instructing at the Flight Clinic seven days a week, five evenings, if not on a business trip and weekend mornings, at least. My orientation was flying. That would change; a position in the international division of the company was available, and my decision was to see the world rather than continue in the pattern. I was soon located in Ireland, followed by South Africa. I finally ended up residing in the Philippines, and I had flown in each place. I even had a Philippine private pilot license, a story for later. Now with the ailments of age, the sound of an aircraft passing overhead pulls my gaze upward. Jets don’t have the aural captivation of propellers.
The post My adventures in the right seat appeared first on Air Facts Journal.
from Engineering Blog https://airfactsjournal.com/2018/06/my-adventures-in-the-right-seat/
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rieshon · 6 years
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Best of 2017
This was almost a weak year for anime, but then the Fall season happened. Apparently anime was just saving all their best for last in 2017.
10: Seikai Suru Kado ∥ Toei Animation ∥ Dir. Watanabe Masaki: This may be a surprise inclusion, given that Kado was admittedly one of the most hideous-looking shows of the year, but in a post-Kemono Friends world, anything is possible. Looks aside, Kado does the remarkable thing of giving us actual science fiction in an anime: you know, cerebral, philosophical, and trying to raise questions about our own society through the lens of the fantastic. It definitely has flaws, but there aren't many anime I've watched that feel as much like a good SF novel as this one does.
9: NEW GAME!! ∥ Douga Koubou ∥ Dir. Fujiwara Yoshiyuki: Here's a more conventional choice. You know I love Zoi-chan, and her second season was everything it should have been. We have the great character development of Aoba coming into her own as a designer, Nenecchi being the world's most adorable beginning programmer, and a genuinely moving ending with Kou-chan setting out on her own. Plus it adds some adorable new girls, and the cuteness delivered by Douga Koubros is on point as always. Wako-chan dabes!
8: Gabriel Dropout ∥ Douga Koubou ∥ Dir. Oota Masahiko: You didn't think the Comedy God wouldn't find his way on here, did you? Oota Masahiko had a two year absence from my Best of the Year lists, but now he clocks in for the fourth time with the eminently enjoyable Gabriel Dropout. As you might expect, this show has a feel similar to the original Yuruyuri: it's super comfy, but also hilarious. Comic foil Satanya was easily one of the best girls of the year.
7: Little Witch Academia ∥ TRIGGER ∥ Dir. Yoshinari You: Some will probably think I have LWA a little low... It's definitely a masterpiece of design and, at times, animation, but I felt like the overall plot dragged a little. Some individual episodes were brilliant, though, like the one where Akko travels inside Sucy's brain, the labor strike episode which gave us glorious Comrade Akko, or the robot episode aka Gurren Lagann 2. The big plot about the kotonoha and the evil Elon Musk, on the other hand, I never really got that invested into, although Shiny Chariot is definitely a babe. Still, it's got all those great themes about believing in yourself that are so genuine and earnest that you can't help but love it.
6: Shuumatsu Nani Shitemasuka? Isogashii Desuka? Sukutte Moratte Iidesuka? ∥ C2C/Satelight ∥ Dir. Wada Junichi: I'm totally biased towards this series, having read the books, but I do think it's a really good anime in its own right. Kutori's tragic story is told with the utmost care and even though they only adapted three of the five novels it still turns out as a complete and satisfying story unto itself. The feels are all over, especially thanks in no small part to a beautiful score (including several vocal pieces) by Katou Tatsuya that really ties the show together tonally. I'd really kill for a second season.
5: Youjo Senki ∥ Nut ∥ Dir. Uemura Yutaka: So, I almost feel guilty putting this show on here because it's definitely the hardest anime I've ever watched raw (Monogatari shows included) and I still feel like some of it may have gone over my head. But even my dumb ass knows enough to tell this is one of the smartest shows of the year, a study of man's tendency towards war as seen through the eyes of a little girl who embodies the doctrine of "the ends justify the means." Yuuki Aoi turns in probably the best performance of her career as Tanya who is definitely one of the most memorable characters of the year, even if Nazis think she's supposed to be a "badass" you're meant to root for. This is another one that desperately needs a second season.
4: Kino no Tabi -the Beautiful World- the Animated Series ∥ Lerche ∥ Dir. Taguchi Tomohisa: I always heard the original Kino was great but I didn't care enough to actually go back and watch it. Thankfully, anime's got me covered with this new adaptation that definitely lived up to the hype. If I were to use one phrase to describe Kino no Tabi it would be "Star Trek"―much like that show it's an episodic series about some people on a journey to strange places that uses each episode to set up an ethical or philosophical question and then work through it. As a result, it's wonderfully varied and constantly surprising. Also, Kino is cute!
3: Konohana Kitan ∥ Lerche ∥ Dir. Okamoto Hideki: Is it wrong for me to say this show is like Kino? Konohana is also a series of short stories tied together by the setting and characters of the inn, but instead of setting up philosophical questions it's all about sentimentality. I really appreciate short form storytelling and there are a ton of fantastically constructed short stories here and they rarely failed to make me bawl my eyes out. It also features some of the cutest girls of the year, to the point that I still don't really know who best girl is: I gave it to Yuzu, but you really couldn't go wrong with any of them.
2: Houseki no Kuni ∥ Orange ∥ Dir. Kyougoku Takahiko: It's a real shame that this show can't also be anime of the year, but second place is no indictment of the quality of this show which was one of two to earn a perfect score last year. Houseki no Kuni is a standard (if masterfully executed) bildungsroman, but it's wrapped in a package unlike anything I've ever experienced before. The arresting character designs are the first thing that jump out, but there's also the unique and never-quite-explained setting and world, including the haunting visuals of the moon people antagonists, and the show's stylish fusion of 3DCG technology with traditional animation techniques, resulting in some of the best cinematography of the year. And then there's the cast of characters, headed by Kurosawa Tomoyo as Phosphophyllite who has with this performance removed any doubt in my mind that she's one of the top actresses in anime right now. Phos experiences character growth that's almost unprecendented in this medium, where return to the status quo is the norm for most "arcs," and Kurosawa's performance which takes Phos from goofy red-headed stepchild to cold, disaffected warrior (while still not losing any of her personality) really ties it all together. Phos's character development is so satisfying that it even manages to convincingly take the place of a real ending to the plot. A genuine masterpiece.
1: Shoujo Shuumatsu Ryokou ∥ White Fox ∥ Dir. Ozaki Takaharu: But as fate would have it there would be two unqualified masterpieces this year... Part of the reason I've put off finishing this post is because I've struggled to think of ways to communicate how truly sublime the experience of watching Shoujo Shuumatsu Ryokou is. It's beautiful, thoughtful, introspective, sentimental, heart-rending, soothing... I guess it's fitting that it's so many things because the show is ultimately about humanity, where we came from, and where we're heading. And it does all that without being brooding or melancholic: these round girls look the apocalypse square in the face and still manage to find beauty, comfort, and profound meaning in the world. If that isn't humanity at its purest, what is? This show that is at first glance about two round blobs on a road trip will make you reconsider mankind's place in the universe. I love anime.
Close but no cigar:
The biggest conflict for me was Princess Principal, which I really wanted to include in the list but just couldn't make room for it. There's a lot of things I love that show for: its fun setting, endearing characters, its well-told short form stories, and the fact that it tiptoes into dealing with leftist politics... But unfortunately it ends quite poorly, which is a big knock on a show as plot-driven as this one. In a similar vein, Kakegurui was one of the most compelling shows week-to-week of the year, but it also suffers from a weak non-ending which lets a little air out of the balloon after all the super hype gambles until that point.
In the cute girls department, there was Kobayashi-sanchi no Maidragon, which let us know that Kyoani can still make moe anime if they try. It was definitely a great specimen in the genre, but it didn't really do anything special enough to get into the top ten... other than having Kanna. There was also Eromanga-Sensei, which lived up to its name by being very ero but was also just unremarkably good.
In terms of lesser shows that deserve a shoutout, I've gotta give one to the second season of Lovelive! Sunshine!! for being so incredibly better than the first outing that it made me genuinely love Aqours and look forward to the upcoming movie. After the last two season of Lovelive anime I never thought I'd really care again, but they managed to do it with a renewed focus on character and abandoning the stupid 'save the school' narrative that made Sunshine feel like a second-rate knockoff of the original. I should also mention Made In Abyss, if only because of its overriding popularity around the world, but also because the first half of it was setting up for an all-time great show that could have easily slotted in among Houseki no Kuni and Shoujo Shuumatsu Ryokou, but then it made the mistake of getting too grimdark and ruined it.
Now time to open the envelopes:
Best Actress: Kurosawa Tomoyo as Phosphophyllite, Houseki no Kuni. What, you were expecting someone else? At only 21 years of age Kurosawa has already established herself as a force to be reckoned with, between this role and her similarly fantastic work as Kumiko in the Euphonium series. She brings a level of emotional texture to a character that's seldom seen in anime. Just go look at the review for Houseki for more explanation of why she deserves this. We definitely have a lot to look forward to with this girl.
(Honorable mentions: Yuuki Aoi as Tanya Degurechaff, Youjo Senki; Noto Mamiko as Morioka Moriko, Netojuu no Susume; Minase Inori & Kubo Yurika as Chito & Yuri, Shoujo Shuumatsu Ryokou; Hayami Saori as Jabami Yumeko, Kakegurui)
Best Actors: Ichikawa Aoi & Murata Taishi as Izumi Eita & Souma Haruto, Just Because!. I didn't include Just Because in the close-but-no-cigar section because I figured I could give it credit here. For me, Just Because! was one of the most underrated shows of last year; it won me over with its understated but earnest depiction of youth navigating the tangle of falling in love for the first time. Part of what makes it so charming is the realistic relationship between Ichikawa and Murata's characters, once-seperated friends who reunite when the protagonist moves back to the town he grew up in. The interplay between the characters has that sort of unstated intimacy that often defines male friendships, and while a lot of that is down to the solid writing, it's hard not to give credit to the actors for making the characters' relationship so darling as well.
(Honorable mentions: Fukushima Jun as Satou Kazuma, Kono Subarashii Sekai ni Shukufuku wo! 2; Chiba Shouya as Azumi Koutarou, Tsuki ga Kirei; Saitou Souma as Glenn Radars, Roku de Nashi Majutsu Kyoushi no Akashic Records)
Newcomer Seiyuu of the Year: Tomita Miyu. Talk about jumping onto the scene. Tomita first came to my active attention with her role as the aloof angel Gabriel in Gabriel Dropout, and her comic delivery was a big part of that show's success. When she later played Kuina in Hinako Note, I thought maybe she was a little one note, because the performances seemed really similar. Her performance as Riko in Made In Abyss, though, really threw her into the spotlight. While I personally hated what happened in episode 10 from a narrative standpoint, there's no denying that that scene was so gutwrenching and affecting for so many people because of Tomita's performance. I'd still like to see if she has more vocal range, but even if she doesn't, this girl―who was only seventeen years old while turning in that work!―can definitely act. I hope we get to hear her lead another show sometime soon.
(Honorable mention: Naganawa Maria. It's not always the case that a voice can entirely make a character. People like Kugimiya Rie can do that, and in recent years Sakura Ayane does the same for me. Naganawa Maria as Kanna Kamui in Kobayashi-sanchi no Maidragon is another example. Kanna would have always been cute, of course, but it's Naganawa's voice that really put her over the edge to becoming one of the most widely popular characters of 2017. The quality of her loligoe is uncontested, but what remains to be seen is if she can truly carry a show as the main protagonist. The only example we have of that is her work as Honda Tamaki in Stella no Mahou, which I enjoyed, but I'd like to hear more of her in that kind of role.)
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kacydeneen · 6 years
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Final Victims Removed From Under Fallen Pedestrian Bridge
Authorities recovered the final two victims from the bridge collapse near Florida International University on Saturday, after two days of arduous work.
"It has been a laborious, tedious process," Miami-Dade's Police Chief Juan Perez said at a press conference Saturday night, describing the efforts required to locate and extract victims beneath 950 tons of concrete.
'I Thought I Was Dead:' Victim of Bridge Collapse Speaks Out
The only time rescuers paused during their days-long search-and-rescue efforts, Perez said, was when officials prayed over victims before escorting them the medical examiner's office.
Five people died when the pedestrian bridge came crashing down on March 15. A sixth victim died at a hospital from injuries sustained in the collapse. Perez said that although he was "pretty confident" all victims were now accounted for, offiicals would do a final sweep to be sure.
Bridge Project Responsibility of FIU, Not State
By Saturday night five victims had been identified: Alexa Duran, an 18-year-old FIU student; Alberto Arias and his passenger Oswald Gonzalez; Rolando Fraga-Hernandez and Navarro Brown.
NBC News reported that Duran was driving home from a doctor's appointment when the bridge collapsed on top of her car. Her best friend, Richard Humble, was in the passenger seat when it happened. He told the "Today" show that he and Duran had been at a red light when they heard a creak above them, just seconds before the bridge crushed their car.
Traffic Closures and Detours Around Bridge Collapse
Relatives of Arias, said he had been helping his mother move when the bridge collapsed on his white Chevy truck. His friend and passenger, Gonzalez, also died from the impact.
Brown, 37, was working on site at the time of the collapse.
Experts from the National Transportation Safety Board and the Occupational Safety and Health Administration joined police in taking over command of the scene Friday from first responders, who had spent hours racing to find survivors in the rubble of the 175-foot span using high-tech listening devices, trained sniffing dogs and search cameras.
Ten people were transported to Kendall Regional Medical Center from the site of the collapse near Southwest 8th Street and 109th Avenue. Two were listed in critical condition when they arrived and one person died at the hospital. Officials have not confirmed if the deceased was one of the 10 taken there or if it was someone who was brought in themselves.
The bridge was reportedly put to a "stress adjustment" before it collapsed over traffic before 2 p.m. on Thursday. Two workers were on top when it pancaked on top of vehicles waiting at a stoplight.
Perez and Miami-Dade County deputy mayor Maurice Kemp would not confirm if that test did take place. 
And on Tuesday, an engineer of the company that designed the bridge warned the Florida Department of Transportation of cracks to the structure in a voicemail, but said the company was "not concerned" from a "safety perspective."
Denney Pate from the FIGG Bridge Group left the voicemail, and FDOT employees did not listen to the voicemail until Friday – the day after the bridge collapsed.
Sgt. Jenna Mendez of the Sweetwater Police Department was one of the first responders on the scene. The collapse happened while she was driving to work and she said she only missed becoming a victim herself because she had been running late and was stopped at a red light when the disaster struck. 
“I really wasn’t believing what I had seen,” she told NBC's "Today" show on Friday.
Mendez said that after realizing what had happened she jumped on top of the bridge to help construction workers who were "severely injured."
"I was just in that rescue mode," she said. Fire rescue officials had to yell at her not to put her safety at risk by going under the debris.
The Florida Highway Patrol is urging students to carpool on Monday as they return to school. Since roads will continue to be closed well into next week, they anticipate heavy delays as students return to school.
FHP also recommends students to plan for heavy traffic delays as they head to class. Details about detours and road closures can be found here. 
Photo Credit: Final Victims Removed From Under Fallen Pedestrian Bridge published first on Miami News
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husheduphistory · 7 years
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Steve Brodie: Leaps, Lies, and the Big Gotham “Gotcha!”
It was 1890 and a New York City tour bus rumbled up to 114 Bowery Street as the eyes on board peered outside eagerly and their driver began the introductions. “Ladies and gentlemen, you are seeing one of the most historic scenes in this great city. That, ladies and gentlemen, is Steve Brodie’s Famous Saloon.” Some of the riders excitedly buzzed at the name, but others were unsure before hearing the rest of the tale. “You have all heard of Steve Brodie, the man who made that terrible leap for life from the Brooklyn Bridge to the East River below and lived to tell about it.” It was with these words that the excitement overflowed beyond the bus walls and poured out into the street and through the front doors of Steve Brodie’s Famous Saloon. The sudden rush was not unexpected by the namesake owner who was strategically poised and waiting behind the bar. He had paid the driver to stop there. He excelled at plotting to benefit his own pocket.
Steve Brodie’s saloon was a sight to behold with three rooms having varying degrees of accessibility depending on who you were and how much was in your wallet. The floors were inlaid with silver dollars and the walls were covered in witty signs, all of which were dwarfed by the obvious main event. Hanging above the bar was a massive oil painting showing Brodie making his famous jump from the Brooklyn Bridge into the waters of the East River. Next to it hung a paper signed by a boat captain swearing that he was the one who dragged Brodie from the river after he defied death. Anyone there that day wanting to hear the story barely had to ask, Brodie was more than willing to talk, sometimes claiming the suit he had on was the very one he wore the day of his great plunge. The saloon, the money, the eyes and ears firmly fixed on him, he owed everything around him to the jump from the bridge. Some would say Brodie didn’t deserve such celebrity. Not because jumping from the Brooklyn Bridge was not an astounding feat, but because the jump may have never even happened.
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A postcard of Steve Brodie’s Famous Saloon via Getty Images
Steve Brodie was born in New York City on December 25th 1861 and he had to learn to scrape by at a young age. Living in Manhattan, Brodie filled his pockets as a newsboy, bookmaker, professional racewalker, and gambler while witnessing the construction of a new architectural marvel, the Brooklyn Bridge. Completed in May of 1883 the Brooklyn Bridge, then called the East River Bridge, spanned a length of nearly 1,600 feet and on opening day 150,300 people and 1,800 horse drawn carriages crossed the new skyway. 
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People crossing the Brooklyn Bridge on opening day, May 24th 1883
The excitement and awe of the bridge was quickly marred by tragedy. Rumors of the bridge’s instability began to grow and on May 30th 1883 panic broke out that the bridge would collapse resulting in a stampede and the loss of twelve lives. Terrified people refused to cross the bridge until the following year when P.T. Barnum marched elephants across it both promoting his circus extravaganza while also proving that the structure was safe. However, on May 19th 1885 swimming instructor Robert Emmet Odlum decided to challenge himself rather than the bridge. He jumped off the structure as a stunt but seconds after hitting the water his lifeless body floated to the surface. The loss was a tragedy, but it planted seeds into the brain of Steven Brodie.
By the time Odlum lost his life to the East River Brodie was a twenty-three year old “well known Bowery character”, broke, and desperate for his next buck. In order to clear up a pile of gambling debt Brodie accepted a bet to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge. If he survived he would walk away with $200. The prospect of survival became even sweeter when liquor store owner Moritz Herzber swore to back a saloon for Brodie if he survived the plunge. He wanted fame, he wanted money, and this seemed like the fasted route to his dreams.
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Steve Brodie 
On the morning of July 22nd 1886 Brodie stood at the entrance of the Brooklyn Bridge with his wife by his side. After an animated farewell he climbed onto a lumber wagon that was crossing the stretch of steel while a rowboat containing some of Brodie’s friends bobbed in the waters below. What happened next was a blur to almost everyone in view of the bridge that day. People spotted a figure on the bridge and began screaming that someone was about to commit suicide, the police were summoned, but in a matter of seconds it was over with the shape hitting the river below. There were immediate questions but what was certain was that after the sudden commotion a rowboat was moving toward a flailing man in the water. Brodie’s friends dragged him into the boat and rowed over to a pier on the Manhattan side of the bridge where they were met by a policeman who promptly arrested Brodie for attempting suicide. The arrest didn’t seem to bother him and he commented to the officer “Alright, I’ll go with you. But I guess I’ll get the $200. I can jump off the highest bridge in the world now!”
When the newspapers rolled off their presses the next day the headlines were screaming the story of Steve Brodie and his jump from the Brooklyn Bridge. Released from jail on bail, Brodie soaked up the attention and spoke to any reporter that would listen. He recounted his experience in detail and told The New York Times that he had actually been training for the feat for two years by taking practice jumps off the masts of ships and lower bridges. The broke and in debt gambler became an overnight celebrity.
Shortly after his jump Brodie opened his saloon on Bowery Street which partially served as a temple dedicated to himself but his fame extended beyond his silver dollar floor and found its way to the stage. He became an actor, appearing in vaudeville musicals including one 1894 number entitled On the Bowery that focused on him, used a set based off of his saloon, and ended with him making his famous jump. People piled into the theater seats to hear the thrilling true tale, but at the same time speculation was brewing that the story was actually a work of pure fiction.
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Lithograph promoting On The Bowery
The fact of the matter is that on the morning of July 22nd 1886 no one could claim with absolute certainty that they saw Brodie himself jump off of the bridge. True, they saw something shaped like a man plunge into the river but rumors began to swirl that the con artist had pulled his biggest con by having someone throw a dummy into the river while he was actually on land under the bridge waiting for the perfect time to swim out and have his friends in the rowboat “discover” him in the water. The only real detailed accounts of the jump came from Brodie himself and miraculously he was uninjured from a stunt that had previously killed a man who taught people to swim for a living.
Brodie never admitted that his jump was a hoax and his story made its way all over the country with traveling performances of On The Bowery. As his fame began to cool he decided to leave New York City and he migrated to Buffalo, New York where he opened another tavern and entertained the idea of jumping down Niagara Falls, a jump he would never make. He moved to San Antonio, Texas but did not enjoy his new locale for very long. On January 31st 1901 Steve Brodie died at the age of thirty-nine with sources debating the cause as either diabetes or tuberculosis.
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Although Brodie physically departed this earth in 1901 his story, and rumors of its validity, carried on in people’s minds and in front of their eyes. In 1930 the newspaper Brooklyn Eagle interviewed retired Sgt. Thomas Hastings, a police officer who frequently patrolled the region of Bowery Street and befriended Brodie. In the interview Hastings reveled that “One day I’d asked him in confidence if the bridge jumping had been a trick…and he said ‘No, I didn’t do it, and I never said I did.”
Despite the growing belief that Brodie was not a skilled stuntman, but a talented conman, his story continued to draw an audience. In 1933 Brodie’s story made it to the silver screen with the film The Bowery starring George Raft as the famous jumper. While a film about his rendezvous with the Brooklyn Bridge may have increased the celebrity status of the dead man it also deepened the doubt in his claim to fame. In the movie Brodie does indeed plan to throw a dummy from the bridge but after not being able to find one he decided to do it himself at the last minute. Whether it is more fact or fiction may never truly be known.
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Movie poster for The Bowery (1933)
From saloon, to stage, to screen, the Brodie name continued into slang with the phrase “pulling a Brodie” coming to mean the attempt of a dangerous stunt.
Since July 22nd 1886 there have been thousands of stunt jumps attempted all over the world and few have carved their names into history within a matter of seconds like Steve Brodie. He might have jumped and lived, or he may have fooled the entire country into making him a celebrity for the rest of his life. Either way, he accomplished one of the greatest stunts in American history.
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The final resting place of Steve Brodie located in  Calvary Cemetery in Queens, New York. Photo via FindAGrave.com.
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takebackthedream · 7 years
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Trump Won’t Say It, But We Will: White Terror in Charlottesville by Richard Eskow
Her name was Heather Heyer. She was marching for justice in Charlottesville when she was killed by a white racist. Say her name.
His name was Timothy Caughman. He was walking down the street in New York City when he was killed by a white racist. Say his name.
Their names were Ricky John Best and Taliesen Myrddin Namkai-Meche. They were riding a train in Portland when they saw a Muslim woman and her friend being threatened. They stepped forward to protect them and were killed by a white racist.
Their names were Cynthia Hurd, Susie Jackson, Ethel Lee Lance, Depayne Middleton-Doctor, Clementa C. Pinckney, Tywanza Sanders, Daniel Simmons, Wharonda Coleman-Singleton, and Myra Thompson. They were studying the Bible in a Charleston church when they were killed by a white racist. Say their names.
And say the name of the real murderer, the one who sent agents out to kill: white nationalist terror.
It took real bravery for Heather Heyer to march that day. And it takes bravery just to be black or Muslim or Jewish or gay or trans in the United States, where the threat of violence hangs over every walk down the street, every ride on a train, even a Bible class in a great and historic church.
The Words Donald Trump Won’t Say
Last year, Donald Trump insisted that it was important to name your adversary. “Now, to solve a problem,” Trump said in an October 9, 2016 debate, “you have to be able to state what the problem is or at least say the name. (Hillary Clinton) won’t say the name and President Obama won’t say the name. But the name is there. It’s radical Islamic terror.”
It’s your turn, Mr. President. Say the name: White nationalist terror.
There were nearly twice as many incidents of white nationalist terrorism as Islam-related terror in the United States between 2008 and the end of 2016, according to one analysis. But instead of standing up to the terrorists, Trump has refused to even name the threat. He refused again when he was asked about the violence in Charlottesville and the death of Heather Heyer, making this now-infamous comment instead:
“We condemn in the strongest possible terms this egregious display of hatred, bigotry and violence on many sides, on many sides.”
Leaving aside the bizarre “many sides” construction – Trump somehow turned a two-sided confrontation into an ethical hypercube – the meaning of this comment was not lost on most observers: The President of the United States deliberately refused to make a distinction between actual Nazis and other self-proclaimed racists and the people who were opposing them because … well, because they were actual Nazis and self-proclaimed racists.
The Nazis were happy with Trump’s statement. The “Daily Stormer,” an amateurish neo-Nazi website – imagine a student newspaper published by the feral kids from William Golding’s novel Lord of the Flies – wrote, “Trump’s comments were good… Nothing specific about us.”
Trump refused to acknowledge the violent death, at the hands of a white supremcist, of the 32-year-old woman who was peacefully exercising her rights of free speech and assembly. He has remained silent as we have learned more about the killer’s openly pro-Nazi statements and his attendance at a fascist rally in Charlottesville before he killed Heather Heyer.
The Nameless Ones
There is one name we will not say today: the killer’s. When you face a pack of wild dogs and one of them goes for your throat, does it really need a name?
The rally the killer attended was organized by a group called Vanguard America. The name, which is undoubtedly meant to be bold and intimidating, sounds more like a midsized insurance brokerage. Its members look like they work in one, too, except for the canine rage on their faces.
Vanguard America is openly fascist in nature and has been actively involved in anti-Jewish and anti-Muslim efforts. Their putative complaint in Charlottesville was the renaming of a park that had been dedicated to Robert E. Lee, the military leader of an armed rebellion that was waged against the United States of America in order to protect and preserve the enslavement of human beings.
Lee’s statue is scheduled to be removed as part of that process. That’s as it should be. Robert E. Lee had no historical connection to Charlottesville, and his statue was not even built until nearly 60 years after the Civil War had ended.
“Historical value”? 35 new Confederate monuments have been built in North Carolina since 2000. That’s not history. It’s hate. These parks and statues aren’t relics of the past. They’re racist declarations in the present.
Names like Robert E. Lee should not be honored in the streets and parks of a free and democratic nation. They represent the violent suppression of an entire people.
They represent white terror.
Will the Real Donald Trump Please Stand Up?
The killer, like his fellow pups, wore a white shirt and carried a shield at the rally. Although they’re clearly trying to look fierce, this sorry-ass group of scrofulous child-men looks more like a gaggle of extras waiting to go onstage in an elementary school production about pirates.
But don’t let their nerdy, self-evident inadequacy fool you. It is that very inadequacy that makes them dangerous, as it has made generations of fascists before them dangerous. They have something to prove, which means they need someone to prove it on.
If their doughy, pasty bullying forms remind you of someone, that’s no surprise. They share those traits with the man who now sits in the Oval Office. Did Trump equivocate because he’s too cowardly to confront them? Did it seem like filial disloyalty to condemn the men who walk in his father’s KKK-friendly footsteps? Is he a secret sympathizer?
Trump wouldn’t say the words “white nationalist terror,” even after some of his fellow Republicans spoke out. “Nothing patriotic about #Nazis,the #KKK or #WhiteSupremacists,” tweeted Sen. Marco Rubio. “It’s the direct opposite of what #America seeks to be.”
“We should call evil by its name,” tweeted Sen. Orrin Hatch. “My brother didn’t give his life fighting Hitler for Nazi ideas to go unchallenged here at home.” Sen. Ted Cruz described the racists as “repulsive and evil” and called on the Justice Department to investigate a “this grotesque act of domestic terrorism.”
When you’ve been owned on social justice by Ted Cruz, you’ve really been owned. But then, Donald Trump has been flirting with white nationalism for a long time. He said this in Poland, for example:
Our freedom, our civilization, and our survival depend on these bonds of history, culture, and memory … Just as Poland could not be broken, I declare today for the world to hear that the West will never, ever be broken. Our values will prevail. Our people will thrive. And our civilization will triumph.
Those “bonds of history, culture, and memory” are the ones that bind white Europeans to each other against the rest of the world. “The West” is white Europe. Everything he describes as “ours” is white and European, including the “civilization” that white supremacists is under attack from black, brown, and non-Christian hordes. It’s no surprise, then, that Trump’s election has caused elation among white racists.
If Not Us, Who?
The fascist Richard Spencer understands what the president is saying, and can say it a little more directly. “We will not be replaced from this park,” Spencer said last May. “We will not be replaced from this world. Whites have a future. We have a future of power, of beauty, of expression.”
Sorry, Dick. We’ve heard the “Horst Wessel Song” and it’s not that beautiful or expressive.
As for that “future of power,” it’s clear that the president has a rhetorical addiction to the language of violence. His apocalyptic words about North Korea came straight from the “Triumph of the Will” playbook. “Fire and Fury” – it sounds like a Leni Riefenstahl movie.  Violent language sets the stage for violent action.
So, how do we resist the fascist impulse? Lady Gaga started a hashtag, #ThisIsNotUS. That’s a nice thought and a way to start a conversation, but the evidence suggests otherwise. Yes, Heather Heyer is “us.” But so is Vanguard America, and so is Donald Trump. So are the Republicans who occupy all three branches of the federal government, along with most of our state houses and governorships. The same Republicans who have used openly racist imagery for more than fifty years, and have actively suppressed black and brown votes to preserve their power.
Mass incarceration is “us,” because most of us have stayed home when it’s protested. Wall Street is “us,” too. It has enjoyed the protection of both parties as it once again engages in racially-biased banking practices. District attorneys from both parties have looked the other way at systematic patterns of police violence against community of color. They’re “us,” because we elected them.
If racism is not “us,” then wet haven’t done enough to bring it down.
Racism is the curse of the majority, and only the majority can end it. It lives in our homes, our houses of worship, and our neighborhoods. The killer’s racism was invisible to his mother, who told a reporter that her son couldn’t be racist because he had a black friend. We need to ask ourselves: What is still invisible to us? What are we blind to: as white people, if we’re white; as straight people, if we’re straight; in all the many ways we are members of the dominant tribe and not the ‘other’?
That blindness creates the dark spaces where hatred grows.
But awareness is only the first step. We must resist it, too — by marching in the streets, by demanding change, by rejecting violent speech whenever we hear it, and by stepping in to defending people when they are under attack.
‘Many sides’? There are only two sides here: Right and wrong. Murderer and victim. Hatred and love. In the clutch, when it really mattered, the president of the United States refused to pick a side. But we can. We can lay down our lives, one by one if necessary, until we have won.
And the next time someone is murdered by white terror, we can say her name.
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