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african american businessman sitting on floor - Portrait of a confident African American businessman sitting on floor, Model: Eric Sychangco MUA: Thao Nguyen, Clothing Stylist: Tanya Rudolpho. To Download this image without watermarks for Free, visit: www.sourcepics.com/free-stock-photography/24723976-africa...
Alternate Title -- Before:
Before the second guessing and trying to impress, before being afraid to be smart or different, if I could wish anything for her, it would be to keep the easy self assurance that seems so natural here.
Saw this at the neighborhood 7-11. It reads, "this noodle, confidence has". ^^. Try one for ¥198?
This photo and more at http://www.kenleewrites.com/2009/02/confident-instant-noodles.html.
Last autumn, we felt confident enough to start arranging things in the new year. One of these was a show by Chinese acrobats that Jools wanted to see. She got Jen, Sylv and a friend to go. And yesterday was the day of the show. I made it clear it wasn't for me, but I would go up to rephotograph some City churches and we would meet up afterwards for a meal before coming home.
When we arrange things, we don't know what slings and arrows fate might throw at us. In Tuesday's case, it was a Tube drivers strike, and no last minute talks fixed that. I could arrange my trip to avoind using public transport other than the train up and back home, which were unaffected. Jools thought they would be OK, as their tickets were for the Odeon, which she thought was in Leicester Square, but it turned out was the old Hammersmith Apollo. Now, usually this would not have been a problem, but on Tuesday it was.
They arranged to leave an hour earlier than planned and try to get a taxi, which they did after waiting in line for an hour, getting to the theatre just half an hour before showtime, leaving them only time to get a snack.
Their journey up was done outside rush hour, the show ened at five, and they had to get back to St Pancras. Which would prove to be an adventure.
For me, however, it was a walk in the park. And to add to the pleasure of the day, I would meet up with my good friend, Simon, owner of the Churches of East Anglia website, just about every word and picture done by his own hand. His website also covers the City of LOndon churches, so I asked if he wanted to meet up; he did, so a plan was hatched to meet and visit a few churches, one of which, King Edmund, he had not been inside. He wouldn't arrive until jsut after ten to get the offpeak ticket prices, I would get up early as a couple of the churches would be open before nine.
A plan was made, and I had a list of chuches and a rough order in which to visit them.
The alarm went off at five, and we were both up. I having a coffee after getting dressed and Jools was to drop me off at the station, and as we drove in the heavy fog that had settled, I realised there was a direct train to Cannon Street just after seven, could I make it to avoid a half hour layover at Ashford?
Yes I could.
Jools dropped me off outside Priory station, I went in and got my ticket, and was on the train settled into a forward facing seat with three whole minutes to spare.
The train rattled it's way out of the station and through the tunnel under Western Heights, outside it was still dark. So I put my mask on and rested my eyes as we went through Folkestone to Ashford, an towards Pluckley, Headcorn, Marden to Tonbridge, Sevenoaks and so onto south east London. The train filled up slowly, until we got to Tonbridge which left few seats remaining, and at Sevenoaks, it was standing room only, but by then its a twenty minute run to London Bridge.
After leaving London Bridge station, the train took the sharp turn above Borough Market and over the river into Cannon Street. I was in no hurry, so enoyed the peace and space of an empty carriage before making my way off the train then along the platform and out onto the street in front. A heavy drizzle was falling, so I decided to get some breakfast and another coffee. Just up Walbrook there was an independent sandwich place, so I went in and asked what I wanted: faced with dozens of choices, all made to order, I had no idea.
I decided on a simple sausage sandwich and a coffee and watched people hurrying to work outside. I had all the time I wanted.
I check my phone and find that opening times were a little different, but St Mary Aldermary was open from half eight, so I check the directions and head there.
It was open, mainly because there is a small cafe inside. I ask if I could go in, they say yes, so I snap it well with the 50mm lens fitted, and decide that something sweet was called for. They recommended the carrot cake, so I had a slice of that and a pot of breakfast tea sitting and admiring the details of the church. Once I had finished, I put on the wide angle lens and finished the job.
Just up the lane outside was St Mary-le-Bow, which should also be open.
It was. Also because they had a cafe. I skipped another brew, and photographed that too, and saw that the crypt was open too, so went down the steps to that. Simon tells me that the church got it's name because of the brick arched crypt: bowed roof.
A five minute walk past The Bank of England was St Mary Woolnorth and St Mary Abchurch: both open, and both recorded by my camera and keen eye.
It was now near to ten, so I texted Simon to let him know to meet me at St Edmund, and I set off in the wrong direction. I only realised this when I was the other side of The Bank, so checked my map and retraced my steps and went down Lombard Street.
The rain was still falling gently, and I was damp, so found shelter under a balcony, as the church was not unlocked. The smell of tale piss rose from the pavement, it wasn't pleasant.
Simon arrived, we shook hands and reviewed the plans, and with it being nearly half ten, thought we would give Stephen Walbrook another go. And wonder of wonders, it was open! The church has been reordered, which isn't to everyone's taste, but the doughnut in the centre can be removed if needed, and Wren's church is still there, including the wonderful painted ceiling.
We went to Cornhill, as Somon had never visited St Peer there, or rather never found it open. I had a feeling that Friends of the City Churches were watching it on Tuesday, so should be open. And it was, although a workshop was going on, we went round not getting in anyone's way getting shots, and then chatting with the watcher, who didn't quite match Simon's knowledge, but the watcher had his book for reference.
Another church Simon hadn't been inside was St Katherine Cree, which again was a five minute walk back across the Square Mile.
It too was open.
Yay.
Pride here was the fine rose window, wheel-like for St Catherine.
-------------------------------------------
This is a very unusual church for London, unusual for England, for it was one of the very few churches to be built during the Laudian years at the start of the 17th Century. More than this, it can proudly claim that the new church was consecrated by Archbishop Laud himself. Even more, the vestments he wore and the ceremony he oversaw on the occasion were both used in evidence against him at his trial before he was summarily beheaded by the Puritans. You don't get a much higher pedigree than that.
Under the circumstances then, it is perhaps a little disappointing that the church is rather traditional, rebuilt on the exact foundations of its medieval predecessor, and perhaps doesn't really reflect what we know of Laudian worship at all. As Elizabeth and Wayland Young observed, it answers no questions about its time, informing one only that it was a time of change and indecision. The same may be said of the almost exactly contemporary church of St John in the city of Leeds in Yorkshire.
The dedication is an abbreviation of St Katherine Creechurch or Christchurch, for this was the site of the Augustinian Priory of Holy Trinity Aldgate, the parish of which was known as Christchurch. The people of the parish used the Priory church, which the monks seem to have found something of a nuisance, so in the 14th Century they gave the parish its own church, which Simon Bradley suggests may have been the former cemetery chapel. As the parish of Christchurch had been made up of four earlier medieval parishes, the new church took its dedication from one of them, St Katherine.
At the dissolution the parish was offered the Priory church, but they turned it down, probably because it was in a poor state of repair, or perhaps they were merely proud of the new tower built against their own church some thirty years earlier. Instead, St Katherine Cree was rebuilt against the tower, and consecrated in 1628. You step into an interior which feels much larger than seems possible from outside. At the time of the rebuilding the floor was raised up higher than the old church. The ceilings are vaulted above the deceptively powerful arcades, but it is the east window that draws the eye, a rose window like a Catherine wheel, one of the most memorable in London. Below it, the semi-circular sanctuary is simple and elegant.
Much of the glass in the east window is of the 1630s, as is that at the west end of the north aisle, for this church survived the Great Fire. Samuel Pepys described how it was used by the Corporation as a meeting place in the days after it. At the east end of the south aisle reclines Sir Nicholas Throkmorton who died in 1570, above an altar as if he were a southern European Catholic saint, and on the other side of the church above the font provided at the time of the rebuilding is another striking memorial to Bartholomew and Ann Ensor, showing them as shrouded figures leaning either side of the inscription. Bartholomew died in 1636, so this must have been one of the first new memorials in the rebuilt church. Most of the other windows are filled with late 19th and early 20th Century glass of varying quality, for this part of Leadenhall Street survived the Blitz. And so, apart from Michael Farrar-Bell's 1960 memorial glass to the victims of the German bombing of RMS Lancastria off the coast of France on 17th June 1940 with the loss of more than four thousand lives, St Katherine Cree remains in all its pre-war singularity.
Simon Knott, March 2022
www.simonknott.co.uk/citychurches/033/church.htm
-------------------------------------------
William Laud (LAWD; 7 October 1573 – 10 January 1645) was a bishop in the Church of England. Appointed Archbishop of Canterbury by Charles I in 1633, Laud was a key advocate of Charles I's religious reforms, he was arrested by Parliament in 1640 and executed towards the end of the First English Civil War in January 1645.
A firm believer in episcopalianism, or rule by bishops, "Laudianism" refers to liturgical practices designed to enforce uniformity within the Church of England, as outlined by Charles. Often highly ritualistic, these were precursors to what are now known as high church views.
In theology, Laud was accused of Arminianism, favouring doctrines of the historic church prior to the Reformation and defending the continuity of the English Church with the primitive and mediaeval church, and opposing Calvinism. On all three grounds, he was regarded by Puritan clerics and laymen as a formidable and dangerous opponent. His use of the Star Chamber to persecute opponents such as William Prynne made him deeply unpopular.
Image Source: www.archivessearch.qld.gov.au/items/ITM299141
Australia was approaching its bicentennial celebrations, and after Brisbane’s success hosting the 1982 Commonwealth Games, Brisbane City Council and the Queensland State Government were confident they could win the bid to hold the next World Exhibition.
Brisbane won the right to hold the event and Expo 88 was officially opened by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II on 30 April 1988. By the time it closed, it had changed the way the world saw Brisbane and helped shaped the city as we know it today.
Starting with an estimated budget of $645 million, the Queensland State Government developed a World Expo that would recoup and support its own costs and promote international investment in Queensland, both during and after the event. South Bank, badly damaged in the 1973–74 floods, was chosen and the site acquired for $150 million. Developers completed construction on time and within budget. The targets set for ticket sales were reached 11 weeks before Expo 88 had even opened. It was off to a smashing start.
Celebrating ‘Leisure in the age of technology’, there was an incredible range of pavilions, performances, parades, comedy and artwork on show. Guests could experience over 50 restaurants filled with flavours from around the globe. Hosted over six months, it drew more than 18 million people to the renewed South Bank parklands district. An average of 100,000 people a day entered the gates.
An influx of royalty, celebrities and international visitors came to Brisbane for the exhibition, but it was Queensland residents who attended the most often, purchasing 500,000 season tickets. Expo 88 provided something the city needed: an easy-to-access recreational facility with exciting things to do, see and experience. Brisbanites returned again and again to socialise and enjoy the festival atmosphere.
The monorail was one of the most popular attractions. Giving travellers a view of the entertainments from above, it operated along a 2.3-kilometre track during Expo 88, taking up to 44,000 visitors a day from one side of Expo to the other, along the Brisbane River. Built by Swedish manufacturer Von Roll, the monorail cost $12 million and comprised four MkII trains with nine carriages each. The idea of keeping the monorail operating after Expo and extending it into the Brisbane CBD was discussed. Ultimately, the existing monorail wasn’t a feasible long-term people-moving solution and it was disbursed. Three trains were sold back to Von Roll and were used in Germany’s Europa-Park. The remaining train and some tracks were incorporated into the Sea World theme park on the Gold Coast.
Some of the most significant installations, exhibitions and artworks from Expo 88 were relocated and continue to be enjoyed today. Ken Done AM, a prominent Australian artist and designer, was commissioned to produce the entry and exit statement art pieces for the Australia Pavilion. Using the word ‘Australia’, Done produced a sign nearly six metres tall that could not be missed by anyone who attended Expo 88. The letters have since been restored and are on display at the Caboolture Heritage Village. The Nepal Peace Pagoda was the only international pavilion that remained on-site, after a petition asking that it remain attracted about 70,000 signatures. The Japan Garden and Pond were gifted to the city of Brisbane and moved to the Botanic Gardens at Mt Coot-Tha.
The buzz of activity, the investment in South Bank’s infrastructure and the spotlight on Brisbane transformed the city. The physical legacy left by Expo 88 turned South Bank into a thriving social space and prominent cultural hotspot: 42 hectares was dedicated to the construction of the South Bank Parklands.
blogs.archives.qld.gov.au/2021/10/29/when-the-world-comes...
Florida Av, Peaks Island in Casco Bay, Portland, Maine USA • This Saturday was the annual (secret) Sacred & Profane Festival: Confident, colorful new graffiti at Battery Steele (1942), also known as U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Battery Construction #102, a United States military fortification, completed in 1942 as part of World War II, it is located on 14 acres (5.7 ha) on the oceanside area of the island. It is named for Harry Lee Steele, who was a coastal artillery officer during World War I. It was built to protect Casco Bay, particularly Portland harbor, from Kennebunk to Popham Beach in Phippsburg. – from Wikipedia. ~ It's now one of thirteen island parcels owned and managed by the Peaks Island Land Preserve
• Portland and the other harbors of southern Maine were terribly important ports. Civil War forts still dotted the islands around these harbors, but Portland now needed far more advanced fortifications to protect it from German attack.
So Peaks Island became home to over eight hundred soldiers. Concrete bunkers and observation posts are everywhere. On the far side of the Island are two huge abandoned gun turrets separated by several hundred feet of underground tunnel. Each held a monster 16-inch naval gun. The guns were test-fired only once. Their blasts broke windows all over the island and the recoil, transmitted through rock, caused small earthquakes. After the war, an Islander ran into a German U-boat captain who said he'd spent the war looking at Peaks Island -- through a periscope. … Invasive bittersweet vines, once planted as camouflage, now grow over that history. – From a report of a visit to the Island by John H. Lienhard.
☞ On October 20, 2005, the National Park Service added this structure and site to the National Register of Historic Places (#05001176).
• GeoHack: 43°39′32″N 70°10′50″W.
confident young businesswoman - Portrait of a confident young businesswoman, Model: Vanessa Mitchelle. To Download this image without watermarks for Free, visit: www.sourcepics.com/free-stock-photography/24720113-confid...
Scan of a photo of Mom and Dad seeing Krista stride off somewhere down the front walk. Taken in Detroit (I think) in 1966 or 1967.
Image Source: www.archivessearch.qld.gov.au/items/ITM299141
Australia was approaching its bicentennial celebrations, and after Brisbane’s success hosting the 1982 Commonwealth Games, Brisbane City Council and the Queensland State Government were confident they could win the bid to hold the next World Exhibition.
Brisbane won the right to hold the event and Expo 88 was officially opened by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II on 30 April 1988. By the time it closed, it had changed the way the world saw Brisbane and helped shaped the city as we know it today.
Starting with an estimated budget of $645 million, the Queensland State Government developed a World Expo that would recoup and support its own costs and promote international investment in Queensland, both during and after the event. South Bank, badly damaged in the 1973–74 floods, was chosen and the site acquired for $150 million. Developers completed construction on time and within budget. The targets set for ticket sales were reached 11 weeks before Expo 88 had even opened. It was off to a smashing start.
Celebrating ‘Leisure in the age of technology’, there was an incredible range of pavilions, performances, parades, comedy and artwork on show. Guests could experience over 50 restaurants filled with flavours from around the globe. Hosted over six months, it drew more than 18 million people to the renewed South Bank parklands district. An average of 100,000 people a day entered the gates.
An influx of royalty, celebrities and international visitors came to Brisbane for the exhibition, but it was Queensland residents who attended the most often, purchasing 500,000 season tickets. Expo 88 provided something the city needed: an easy-to-access recreational facility with exciting things to do, see and experience. Brisbanites returned again and again to socialise and enjoy the festival atmosphere.
The monorail was one of the most popular attractions. Giving travellers a view of the entertainments from above, it operated along a 2.3-kilometre track during Expo 88, taking up to 44,000 visitors a day from one side of Expo to the other, along the Brisbane River. Built by Swedish manufacturer Von Roll, the monorail cost $12 million and comprised four MkII trains with nine carriages each. The idea of keeping the monorail operating after Expo and extending it into the Brisbane CBD was discussed. Ultimately, the existing monorail wasn’t a feasible long-term people-moving solution and it was disbursed. Three trains were sold back to Von Roll and were used in Germany’s Europa-Park. The remaining train and some tracks were incorporated into the Sea World theme park on the Gold Coast.
Some of the most significant installations, exhibitions and artworks from Expo 88 were relocated and continue to be enjoyed today. Ken Done AM, a prominent Australian artist and designer, was commissioned to produce the entry and exit statement art pieces for the Australia Pavilion. Using the word ‘Australia’, Done produced a sign nearly six metres tall that could not be missed by anyone who attended Expo 88. The letters have since been restored and are on display at the Caboolture Heritage Village. The Nepal Peace Pagoda was the only international pavilion that remained on-site, after a petition asking that it remain attracted about 70,000 signatures. The Japan Garden and Pond were gifted to the city of Brisbane and moved to the Botanic Gardens at Mt Coot-Tha.
The buzz of activity, the investment in South Bank’s infrastructure and the spotlight on Brisbane transformed the city. The physical legacy left by Expo 88 turned South Bank into a thriving social space and prominent cultural hotspot: 42 hectares was dedicated to the construction of the South Bank Parklands.
blogs.archives.qld.gov.au/2021/10/29/when-the-world-comes...
Last autumn, we felt confident enough to start arranging things in the new year. One of these was a show by Chinese acrobats that Jools wanted to see. She got Jen, Sylv and a friend to go. And yesterday was the day of the show. I made it clear it wasn't for me, but I would go up to rephotograph some City churches and we would meet up afterwards for a meal before coming home.
When we arrange things, we don't know what slings and arrows fate might throw at us. In Tuesday's case, it was a Tube drivers strike, and no last minute talks fixed that. I could arrange my trip to avoind using public transport other than the train up and back home, which were unaffected. Jools thought they would be OK, as their tickets were for the Odeon, which she thought was in Leicester Square, but it turned out was the old Hammersmith Apollo. Now, usually this would not have been a problem, but on Tuesday it was.
They arranged to leave an hour earlier than planned and try to get a taxi, which they did after waiting in line for an hour, getting to the theatre just half an hour before showtime, leaving them only time to get a snack.
Their journey up was done outside rush hour, the show ened at five, and they had to get back to St Pancras. Which would prove to be an adventure.
For me, however, it was a walk in the park. And to add to the pleasure of the day, I would meet up with my good friend, Simon, owner of the Churches of East Anglia website, just about every word and picture done by his own hand. His website also covers the City of LOndon churches, so I asked if he wanted to meet up; he did, so a plan was hatched to meet and visit a few churches, one of which, King Edmund, he had not been inside. He wouldn't arrive until jsut after ten to get the offpeak ticket prices, I would get up early as a couple of the churches would be open before nine.
A plan was made, and I had a list of chuches and a rough order in which to visit them.
The alarm went off at five, and we were both up. I having a coffee after getting dressed and Jools was to drop me off at the station, and as we drove in the heavy fog that had settled, I realised there was a direct train to Cannon Street just after seven, could I make it to avoid a half hour layover at Ashford?
Yes I could.
Jools dropped me off outside Priory station, I went in and got my ticket, and was on the train settled into a forward facing seat with three whole minutes to spare.
The train rattled it's way out of the station and through the tunnel under Western Heights, outside it was still dark. So I put my mask on and rested my eyes as we went through Folkestone to Ashford, an towards Pluckley, Headcorn, Marden to Tonbridge, Sevenoaks and so onto south east London. The train filled up slowly, until we got to Tonbridge which left few seats remaining, and at Sevenoaks, it was standing room only, but by then its a twenty minute run to London Bridge.
After leaving London Bridge station, the train took the sharp turn above Borough Market and over the river into Cannon Street. I was in no hurry, so enoyed the peace and space of an empty carriage before making my way off the train then along the platform and out onto the street in front. A heavy drizzle was falling, so I decided to get some breakfast and another coffee. Just up Walbrook there was an independent sandwich place, so I went in and asked what I wanted: faced with dozens of choices, all made to order, I had no idea.
I decided on a simple sausage sandwich and a coffee and watched people hurrying to work outside. I had all the time I wanted.
I check my phone and find that opening times were a little different, but St Mary Aldermary was open from half eight, so I check the directions and head there.
It was open, mainly because there is a small cafe inside. I ask if I could go in, they say yes, so I snap it well with the 50mm lens fitted, and decide that something sweet was called for. They recommended the carrot cake, so I had a slice of that and a pot of breakfast tea sitting and admiring the details of the church. Once I had finished, I put on the wide angle lens and finished the job.
Just up the lane outside was St Mary-le-Bow, which should also be open.
It was. Also because they had a cafe. I skipped another brew, and photographed that too, and saw that the crypt was open too, so went down the steps to that. Simon tells me that the church got it's name because of the brick arched crypt: bowed roof.
A five minute walk past The Bank of England was St Mary Woolnorth and St Mary Abchurch: both open, and both recorded by my camera and keen eye.
It was now near to ten, so I texted Simon to let him know to meet me at St Edmund, and I set off in the wrong direction. I only realised this when I was the other side of The Bank, so checked my map and retraced my steps and went down Lombard Street.
The rain was still falling gently, and I was damp, so found shelter under a balcony, as the church was not unlocked. The smell of tale piss rose from the pavement, it wasn't pleasant.
Simon arrived, we shook hands and reviewed the plans, and with it being nearly half ten, thought we would give Stephen Walbrook another go. And wonder of wonders, it was open! The church has been reordered, which isn't to everyone's taste, but the doughnut in the centre can be removed if needed, and Wren's church is still there, including the wonderful painted ceiling.
We went to Cornhill, as Somon had never visited St Peer there, or rather never found it open. I had a feeling that Friends of the City Churches were watching it on Tuesday, so should be open. And it was, although a workshop was going on, we went round not getting in anyone's way getting shots, and then chatting with the watcher, who didn't quite match Simon's knowledge, but the watcher had his book for reference.
Another church Simon hadn't been inside was St Katherine Cree, which again was a five minute walk back across the Square Mile.
It too was open.
Yay.
Pride here was the fine rose window, wheel-like for St Catherine.
I was now on the home straight, but after a night for broken sleep, I was flagging. We had an appointment at St James Garlickythe, which was only open an hour. St James was a longer walk, but we made it, getting to the church at ten past, only to find there was a service on at quarter past.
We look inside, and apart from some incense drifting, and the sound of a dog crunching a bone, there was no one inside. I go in and get what shots I could.
The vicar came out and I apologise and leave him to his service with just his dog to witness it. In a city of millions, no one attended.
With that done, we retired to a nearby pub and had an ale, refreshed we went up past St Paul's Cathedral to Ludgate and to St Martin which was also open as expected.
I was getting churched out by now, so only took shots with the 50mm, I had been here before, so wanted detailed shots.
That done, we went to the final church of the day.
-------------------------------------------
There are two churches abutting directly onto the street along the northern side of Fleet Street and Ludgate Hill, and St Martin's proximity to the great west front of St Paul's Cathedral erases any doubt you may have that it was completely destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666. It was rebuilt by Christopher Wren between 1677 and 1686. Looking from Ludgate Circus, Wren's perky spirelet is dwarfed by his great replacement cathedral beyond. The tower, and that of St Augustine Watling Street on the other side of the Cathedral, were deliberately intended as foils to the great dome, their diminutive spires creating the illusion that the dome is larger and more distant.
St Martin's frontage might lead you to expect that this is a 'west' front turned around ninety degrees so that the church faces north, like the other, St Dunstan in the West. In fact, you step into a narrow narthex, and the stairs lead you up into the south side of the nave. At first sight, the interior is rather unexciting - dark and gloomy even - but St Martin suffered less damage from the Blitz than any other City church, and so what you see today is essentially Wren's interior, albeit augmented by the Georgians and Victorians. It would be possible to entertain a romantic notion that the little church had been sheltered by its giant neighbour, but of course Christ Church Newgate Street and St Augustine Watling Street, which were similarly close, were both destroyed, and the interior of St Vedast alias Foster at the east end of the cathedral was gutted in the fire storm.
The font is dated 1673 and inscribed The gift of Thomas Morley Esq. Around the bowl, the Greek palindrome NIYON ANOMHMA MH MONAN OYIN ('cleanse my sin and not my face only'). The grand west gallery dominates one end, with a large candelabra hovering over the furnishings, some of which came from St Mary Magdalen in Fish Lane, demolished in the 19th Century. Once you know that St Martin is a great survivor, you become more sympathetic to the atmosphere of the interior, dusty as it is and creaking with age. Why, this might be the very church of which Betjeman reminisced in Summoned by Bells:
'A single bell would tinkle down a lane:
My echoing steps would track the source of sound -
A cassocked verger, bell-rope in his hands,
called me to high box pews, to cedar wood
(Like incense where no incense ever burned),
To ticking gallery clock, and charity bench,
And free seats for the poor, and altar-piece -
Gilded Commandment boards - and sword-rests made
For long-discarded aldermanic pomp.
A hidden organist sent reedy notes
To flute around the plasterwork. I stood,
And from the sea of pews a single head
With cherries nodding on a black straw hat
Rose in a neighbouring pew. The caretaker?
Or the sole resident parishioner?
And so once more, as for three hundred years,
This carven wood, these grey memorial'd walls
Heard once again the Book of Common Prayer,
While somewhere at the back the verger, now
Turned Parish Clerk, would rumble out "Amen".'
Simon Knott, March 2022
Actually, I am reposting this shot but, this time, I did some touches.
To see the original shot click here
Camera: Nikon D50
Lens: Sigma 28-105mm
Filter: None
Software: Adobe Photoshop CS2
Last autumn, we felt confident enough to start arranging things in the new year. One of these was a show by Chinese acrobats that Jools wanted to see. She got Jen, Sylv and a friend to go. And yesterday was the day of the show. I made it clear it wasn't for me, but I would go up to rephotograph some City churches and we would meet up afterwards for a meal before coming home.
When we arrange things, we don't know what slings and arrows fate might throw at us. In Tuesday's case, it was a Tube drivers strike, and no last minute talks fixed that. I could arrange my trip to avoind using public transport other than the train up and back home, which were unaffected. Jools thought they would be OK, as their tickets were for the Odeon, which she thought was in Leicester Square, but it turned out was the old Hammersmith Apollo. Now, usually this would not have been a problem, but on Tuesday it was.
They arranged to leave an hour earlier than planned and try to get a taxi, which they did after waiting in line for an hour, getting to the theatre just half an hour before showtime, leaving them only time to get a snack.
Their journey up was done outside rush hour, the show ened at five, and they had to get back to St Pancras. Which would prove to be an adventure.
For me, however, it was a walk in the park. And to add to the pleasure of the day, I would meet up with my good friend, Simon, owner of the Churches of East Anglia website, just about every word and picture done by his own hand. His website also covers the City of LOndon churches, so I asked if he wanted to meet up; he did, so a plan was hatched to meet and visit a few churches, one of which, King Edmund, he had not been inside. He wouldn't arrive until jsut after ten to get the offpeak ticket prices, I would get up early as a couple of the churches would be open before nine.
A plan was made, and I had a list of chuches and a rough order in which to visit them.
The alarm went off at five, and we were both up. I having a coffee after getting dressed and Jools was to drop me off at the station, and as we drove in the heavy fog that had settled, I realised there was a direct train to Cannon Street just after seven, could I make it to avoid a half hour layover at Ashford?
Yes I could.
Jools dropped me off outside Priory station, I went in and got my ticket, and was on the train settled into a forward facing seat with three whole minutes to spare.
The train rattled it's way out of the station and through the tunnel under Western Heights, outside it was still dark. So I put my mask on and rested my eyes as we went through Folkestone to Ashford, an towards Pluckley, Headcorn, Marden to Tonbridge, Sevenoaks and so onto south east London. The train filled up slowly, until we got to Tonbridge which left few seats remaining, and at Sevenoaks, it was standing room only, but by then its a twenty minute run to London Bridge.
After leaving London Bridge station, the train took the sharp turn above Borough Market and over the river into Cannon Street. I was in no hurry, so enoyed the peace and space of an empty carriage before making my way off the train then along the platform and out onto the street in front. A heavy drizzle was falling, so I decided to get some breakfast and another coffee. Just up Walbrook there was an independent sandwich place, so I went in and asked what I wanted: faced with dozens of choices, all made to order, I had no idea.
I decided on a simple sausage sandwich and a coffee and watched people hurrying to work outside. I had all the time I wanted.
I check my phone and find that opening times were a little different, but St Mary Aldermary was open from half eight, so I check the directions and head there.
It was open, mainly because there is a small cafe inside. I ask if I could go in, they say yes, so I snap it well with the 50mm lens fitted, and decide that something sweet was called for. They recommended the carrot cake, so I had a slice of that and a pot of breakfast tea sitting and admiring the details of the church. Once I had finished, I put on the wide angle lens and finished the job.
Just up the lane outside was St Mary-le-Bow, which should also be open.
It was. Also because they had a cafe. I skipped another brew, and photographed that too, and saw that the crypt was open too, so went down the steps to that. Simon tells me that the church got it's name because of the brick arched crypt: bowed roof.
A five minute walk past The Bank of England was St Mary Woolnorth and St Mary Abchurch: both open, and both recorded by my camera and keen eye.
It was now near to ten, so I texted Simon to let him know to meet me at St Edmund, and I set off in the wrong direction. I only realised this when I was the other side of The Bank, so checked my map and retraced my steps and went down Lombard Street.
The rain was still falling gently, and I was damp, so found shelter under a balcony, as the church was not unlocked. The smell of tale piss rose from the pavement, it wasn't pleasant.
Simon arrived, we shook hands and reviewed the plans, and with it being nearly half ten, thought we would give Stephen Walbrook another go. And wonder of wonders, it was open! The church has been reordered, which isn't to everyone's taste, but the doughnut in the centre can be removed if needed, and Wren's church is still there, including the wonderful painted ceiling.
We went to Cornhill, as Somon had never visited St Peer there, or rather never found it open. I had a feeling that Friends of the City Churches were watching it on Tuesday, so should be open. And it was, although a workshop was going on, we went round not getting in anyone's way getting shots, and then chatting with the watcher, who didn't quite match Simon's knowledge, but the watcher had his book for reference.
-------------------------------------------
An early foundation, probably a Saxon church set in the former forum of the Roman Londinium. The medieval church was larger than today's, an important church with charitable foundations including a library and a school by the 15th Century. As Wayland Young observes, chantries were many and rich. All were dispersed at the Reformation. The church was destroyed in the Great Fire, and rebuilt by Wren in the early 1680s. This is a church worth viewing from different aspects. From Cornhill it is a reminder of what many City churches were once like, with buildings crowding all around and shopfronts flanking the porch. Everybody loves the devil perched on an adjacent gable. The story goes that the owner was forced to pull down an earlier building because he had unwittingly encroached on church land. From Gracechurch Street the tower and spire can be seen, while from the south the aspect is much more intimate across a small garden.
As with its near neighbour St Michael Cornhill, a surprising amount of the 19th Century restoration survives here thanks to these tightly-packed buildings at the east end of Cornhill surviving the Blitz. However, the nave glass by Hugh Easton and the AK Nicholson studio is all 20th Century and variable according to taste. Most moving is a small memorial to seven children killed in a house fire in 1782. It remembers James, Mary, Charles, Harriet, George, John, Elizabeth, the whole offspring of James and Mary Woodmason, in the same awful moment on the 18 Jan 1782 translated by sudden and irresistible flames in the late mansion of their sorrowing parents from the sleep of innocence to eternal bliss. Their remains collected from the ruins are here combined. A sympathysing friend of the bereaved parents, their comanion through the night of 18 of Jan in a scene of distress beyond the powers of language, perhaps of imagination, devotes this spontaneous tribute of the feeling's of his mind to the memory of innocence. JHC. The children appear as a range of cherubs above the inscription.
Simon Knott, March 2022
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Last autumn, we felt confident enough to start arranging things in the new year. One of these was a show by Chinese acrobats that Jools wanted to see. She got Jen, Sylv and a friend to go. And yesterday was the day of the show. I made it clear it wasn't for me, but I would go up to rephotograph some City churches and we would meet up afterwards for a meal before coming home.
When we arrange things, we don't know what slings and arrows fate might throw at us. In Tuesday's case, it was a Tube drivers strike, and no last minute talks fixed that. I could arrange my trip to avoind using public transport other than the train up and back home, which were unaffected. Jools thought they would be OK, as their tickets were for the Odeon, which she thought was in Leicester Square, but it turned out was the old Hammersmith Apollo. Now, usually this would not have been a problem, but on Tuesday it was.
They arranged to leave an hour earlier than planned and try to get a taxi, which they did after waiting in line for an hour, getting to the theatre just half an hour before showtime, leaving them only time to get a snack.
Their journey up was done outside rush hour, the show ened at five, and they had to get back to St Pancras. Which would prove to be an adventure.
For me, however, it was a walk in the park. And to add to the pleasure of the day, I would meet up with my good friend, Simon, owner of the Churches of East Anglia website, just about every word and picture done by his own hand. His website also covers the City of LOndon churches, so I asked if he wanted to meet up; he did, so a plan was hatched to meet and visit a few churches, one of which, King Edmund, he had not been inside. He wouldn't arrive until jsut after ten to get the offpeak ticket prices, I would get up early as a couple of the churches would be open before nine.
A plan was made, and I had a list of chuches and a rough order in which to visit them.
The alarm went off at five, and we were both up. I having a coffee after getting dressed and Jools was to drop me off at the station, and as we drove in the heavy fog that had settled, I realised there was a direct train to Cannon Street just after seven, could I make it to avoid a half hour layover at Ashford?
Yes I could.
Jools dropped me off outside Priory station, I went in and got my ticket, and was on the train settled into a forward facing seat with three whole minutes to spare.
The train rattled it's way out of the station and through the tunnel under Western Heights, outside it was still dark. So I put my mask on and rested my eyes as we went through Folkestone to Ashford, an towards Pluckley, Headcorn, Marden to Tonbridge, Sevenoaks and so onto south east London. The train filled up slowly, until we got to Tonbridge which left few seats remaining, and at Sevenoaks, it was standing room only, but by then its a twenty minute run to London Bridge.
After leaving London Bridge station, the train took the sharp turn above Borough Market and over the river into Cannon Street. I was in no hurry, so enoyed the peace and space of an empty carriage before making my way off the train then along the platform and out onto the street in front. A heavy drizzle was falling, so I decided to get some breakfast and another coffee. Just up Walbrook there was an independent sandwich place, so I went in and asked what I wanted: faced with dozens of choices, all made to order, I had no idea.
I decided on a simple sausage sandwich and a coffee and watched people hurrying to work outside. I had all the time I wanted.
I check my phone and find that opening times were a little different, but St Mary Aldermary was open from half eight, so I check the directions and head there.
It was open, mainly because there is a small cafe inside. I ask if I could go in, they say yes, so I snap it well with the 50mm lens fitted, and decide that something sweet was called for. They recommended the carrot cake, so I had a slice of that and a pot of breakfast tea sitting and admiring the details of the church. Once I had finished, I put on the wide angle lens and finished the job.
Just up the lane outside was St Mary-le-Bow, which should also be open.
It was. Also because they had a cafe. I skipped another brew, and photographed that too, and saw that the crypt was open too, so went down the steps to that. Simon tells me that the church got it's name because of the brick arched crypt: bowed roof.
A five minute walk past The Bank of England was St Mary Woolnorth and St Mary Abchurch: both open, and both recorded by my camera and keen eye.
It was now near to ten, so I texted Simon to let him know to meet me at St Edmund, and I set off in the wrong direction. I only realised this when I was the other side of The Bank, so checked my map and retraced my steps and went down Lombard Street.
The rain was still falling gently, and I was damp, so found shelter under a balcony, as the church was not unlocked. The smell of tale piss rose from the pavement, it wasn't pleasant.
Simon arrived, we shook hands and reviewed the plans, and with it being nearly half ten, thought we would give Stephen Walbrook another go. And wonder of wonders, it was open! The church has been reordered, which isn't to everyone's taste, but the doughnut in the centre can be removed if needed, and Wren's church is still there, including the wonderful painted ceiling.
We went to Cornhill, as Somon had never visited St Peer there, or rather never found it open. I had a feeling that Friends of the City Churches were watching it on Tuesday, so should be open. And it was, although a workshop was going on, we went round not getting in anyone's way getting shots, and then chatting with the watcher, who didn't quite match Simon's knowledge, but the watcher had his book for reference.
Another church Simon hadn't been inside was St Katherine Cree, which again was a five minute walk back across the Square Mile.
It too was open.
Yay.
Pride here was the fine rose window, wheel-like for St Catherine.
-------------------------------------------
This is a very unusual church for London, unusual for England, for it was one of the very few churches to be built during the Laudian years at the start of the 17th Century. More than this, it can proudly claim that the new church was consecrated by Archbishop Laud himself. Even more, the vestments he wore and the ceremony he oversaw on the occasion were both used in evidence against him at his trial before he was summarily beheaded by the Puritans. You don't get a much higher pedigree than that.
Under the circumstances then, it is perhaps a little disappointing that the church is rather traditional, rebuilt on the exact foundations of its medieval predecessor, and perhaps doesn't really reflect what we know of Laudian worship at all. As Elizabeth and Wayland Young observed, it answers no questions about its time, informing one only that it was a time of change and indecision. The same may be said of the almost exactly contemporary church of St John in the city of Leeds in Yorkshire.
The dedication is an abbreviation of St Katherine Creechurch or Christchurch, for this was the site of the Augustinian Priory of Holy Trinity Aldgate, the parish of which was known as Christchurch. The people of the parish used the Priory church, which the monks seem to have found something of a nuisance, so in the 14th Century they gave the parish its own church, which Simon Bradley suggests may have been the former cemetery chapel. As the parish of Christchurch had been made up of four earlier medieval parishes, the new church took its dedication from one of them, St Katherine.
At the dissolution the parish was offered the Priory church, but they turned it down, probably because it was in a poor state of repair, or perhaps they were merely proud of the new tower built against their own church some thirty years earlier. Instead, St Katherine Cree was rebuilt against the tower, and consecrated in 1628. You step into an interior which feels much larger than seems possible from outside. At the time of the rebuilding the floor was raised up higher than the old church. The ceilings are vaulted above the deceptively powerful arcades, but it is the east window that draws the eye, a rose window like a Catherine wheel, one of the most memorable in London. Below it, the semi-circular sanctuary is simple and elegant.
Much of the glass in the east window is of the 1630s, as is that at the west end of the north aisle, for this church survived the Great Fire. Samuel Pepys described how it was used by the Corporation as a meeting place in the days after it. At the east end of the south aisle reclines Sir Nicholas Throkmorton who died in 1570, above an altar as if he were a southern European Catholic saint, and on the other side of the church above the font provided at the time of the rebuilding is another striking memorial to Bartholomew and Ann Ensor, showing them as shrouded figures leaning either side of the inscription. Bartholomew died in 1636, so this must have been one of the first new memorials in the rebuilt church. Most of the other windows are filled with late 19th and early 20th Century glass of varying quality, for this part of Leadenhall Street survived the Blitz. And so, apart from Michael Farrar-Bell's 1960 memorial glass to the victims of the German bombing of RMS Lancastria off the coast of France on 17th June 1940 with the loss of more than four thousand lives, St Katherine Cree remains in all its pre-war singularity.
Simon Knott, March 2022
www.simonknott.co.uk/citychurches/033/church.htm
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William Laud (LAWD; 7 October 1573 – 10 January 1645) was a bishop in the Church of England. Appointed Archbishop of Canterbury by Charles I in 1633, Laud was a key advocate of Charles I's religious reforms, he was arrested by Parliament in 1640 and executed towards the end of the First English Civil War in January 1645.
A firm believer in episcopalianism, or rule by bishops, "Laudianism" refers to liturgical practices designed to enforce uniformity within the Church of England, as outlined by Charles. Often highly ritualistic, these were precursors to what are now known as high church views.
In theology, Laud was accused of Arminianism, favouring doctrines of the historic church prior to the Reformation and defending the continuity of the English Church with the primitive and mediaeval church, and opposing Calvinism. On all three grounds, he was regarded by Puritan clerics and laymen as a formidable and dangerous opponent. His use of the Star Chamber to persecute opponents such as William Prynne made him deeply unpopular.
Last autumn, we felt confident enough to start arranging things in the new year. One of these was a show by Chinese acrobats that Jools wanted to see. She got Jen, Sylv and a friend to go. And yesterday was the day of the show. I made it clear it wasn't for me, but I would go up to rephotograph some City churches and we would meet up afterwards for a meal before coming home.
When we arrange things, we don't know what slings and arrows fate might throw at us. In Tuesday's case, it was a Tube drivers strike, and no last minute talks fixed that. I could arrange my trip to avoind using public transport other than the train up and back home, which were unaffected. Jools thought they would be OK, as their tickets were for the Odeon, which she thought was in Leicester Square, but it turned out was the old Hammersmith Apollo. Now, usually this would not have been a problem, but on Tuesday it was.
They arranged to leave an hour earlier than planned and try to get a taxi, which they did after waiting in line for an hour, getting to the theatre just half an hour before showtime, leaving them only time to get a snack.
Their journey up was done outside rush hour, the show ened at five, and they had to get back to St Pancras. Which would prove to be an adventure.
For me, however, it was a walk in the park. And to add to the pleasure of the day, I would meet up with my good friend, Simon, owner of the Churches of East Anglia website, just about every word and picture done by his own hand. His website also covers the City of LOndon churches, so I asked if he wanted to meet up; he did, so a plan was hatched to meet and visit a few churches, one of which, King Edmund, he had not been inside. He wouldn't arrive until jsut after ten to get the offpeak ticket prices, I would get up early as a couple of the churches would be open before nine.
A plan was made, and I had a list of chuches and a rough order in which to visit them.
The alarm went off at five, and we were both up. I having a coffee after getting dressed and Jools was to drop me off at the station, and as we drove in the heavy fog that had settled, I realised there was a direct train to Cannon Street just after seven, could I make it to avoid a half hour layover at Ashford?
Yes I could.
Jools dropped me off outside Priory station, I went in and got my ticket, and was on the train settled into a forward facing seat with three whole minutes to spare.
The train rattled it's way out of the station and through the tunnel under Western Heights, outside it was still dark. So I put my mask on and rested my eyes as we went through Folkestone to Ashford, an towards Pluckley, Headcorn, Marden to Tonbridge, Sevenoaks and so onto south east London. The train filled up slowly, until we got to Tonbridge which left few seats remaining, and at Sevenoaks, it was standing room only, but by then its a twenty minute run to London Bridge.
After leaving London Bridge station, the train took the sharp turn above Borough Market and over the river into Cannon Street. I was in no hurry, so enoyed the peace and space of an empty carriage before making my way off the train then along the platform and out onto the street in front. A heavy drizzle was falling, so I decided to get some breakfast and another coffee. Just up Walbrook there was an independent sandwich place, so I went in and asked what I wanted: faced with dozens of choices, all made to order, I had no idea.
I decided on a simple sausage sandwich and a coffee and watched people hurrying to work outside. I had all the time I wanted.
I check my phone and find that opening times were a little different, but St Mary Aldermary was open from half eight, so I check the directions and head there.
It was open, mainly because there is a small cafe inside. I ask if I could go in, they say yes, so I snap it well with the 50mm lens fitted, and decide that something sweet was called for. They recommended the carrot cake, so I had a slice of that and a pot of breakfast tea sitting and admiring the details of the church. Once I had finished, I put on the wide angle lens and finished the job.
Just up the lane outside was St Mary-le-Bow, which should also be open.
It was. Also because they had a cafe. I skipped another brew, and photographed that too, and saw that the crypt was open too, so went down the steps to that. Simon tells me that the church got it's name because of the brick arched crypt: bowed roof.
A five minute walk past The Bank of England was St Mary Woolnorth and St Mary Abchurch: both open, and both recorded by my camera and keen eye.
-------------------------------------------
St Mary Abchurch is many people's favourite City church, and it is not hard to see why. Sandwiched between the busy thoroughfares of King William Street and Cannon Street, with Bank underground station and the Mansion House not far off, Abchurch Yard comes as a complete surprise, an intimate space with its picturesque church on the northern side. The tower is pretty well invisible from ground level, but the facade is one of Wren's loveliest. The medieval church here had been destroyed in the Great Fire, and for its replacement Wren erected perhaps his squarest, most rational and most protestant church of all. There are no aisles, and on stepping inside it is the roof that takes the breath away, a vast painted dome. It depicts the name of God in Hebrew surrounded by clouds and rays of light, and is a reminder that the non-conformist congregations of the late 17th Century thought of their buildings as synagogues. St Mary Abchurch has never been a non-conformist church, I hasten to add, but the City merchants were the driving force behind early modern protestantism in England, and you can see the influence here.
The dome was practice for the cathedral. The furnishings beneath it are superb. The huge, dominating reredos is by Grinling Gibbons. Almost all the furnishings date from the last thirty years of the 17th Century, with only a tinkering by the Victorians to come. Since the fire at St Mary at Hill, this is the best surviving example of what some quiet, forgotten back-street City churches were like before the Blitz, exactly the kind of place that Betjeman recalled in Summoned by Bells when he used to stand by intersecting lanes among the silent offices and wait, choosing which bell to follow. And, once inside, while a hidden organist sent reedy notes to flute around the plasterwork, from the sea of pews a single head with cherries nodding on a black straw hat rose in a neighbouring pew. The caretaker? Or the sole resident parishioner?
If you visit when the Friends of City Churches attendants are on duty, you may be allowed to do two things. Firstly, the font cover is operated by a central wooden screw - if they let you raise it, you will find it lifts as lightly as air. Secondly, you may be allowed to go down into the crypt which was discovered during the restoration after the Blitz. This is vaulted, but it is not under the church at all - rather, it is under the yard next door, which can never have been a churchyard. Pevsner thought it might have been the undercroft of a 14th Century chancel chapel.
The name Abchurch is often thought to be a corruption of 'upchurch', although there seems no obvious reason for this. Perhaps it more likely refers to the name of a long-forgotten patron. The church suffered considerable blast damage during the Second World War, but was restored exquisitely in the years that followed, and is a must-see for anyone in search of lost time.
Simon Knott, December 2015
confident woman with shopping bags talking on cellphone - Portrait of a confident woman with shopping bags talking on cellphone against white background, MUA and Model: Amanda Wynne www.awynnemakeup.com. To Download this image without watermarks for Free, visit: www.sourcepics.com/free-stock-photography/24724684-confid...
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Gary’s first high school, the Ralph Waldo Emerson School, opened in Gary in September of 1909. It was the proud work of a confident new Gary School Superintendent William Wirt and would be at the forefront of racial integration decades later.
The building opened in 1909 and included an auditorium, gymnasium, pool, and even a zoo. St. Louis architect William Ittner designed the school. Wirt’s requirements called for thirty classrooms, seven laboratories, separate band and orchestra rooms, art studios, and rooms for industrial and household arts. Athletic facilities, advanced for their time, included an indoor swimming pool, and an upstairs running track.
Emerson was originally a white school, but overcrowding in 1920s Gary saw the introduction of black students to white schools.
To alleviate crowding issues, superintendent Wirt approved the transfer of black students to select white schools in Gary. Six black students would attend Emerson in 1926, and another eighteen were allowed to attend in 1927. Many in the white community did not stand for it, and large numbers of students staged a walk-out which eventually grew into a strike. Emerson-School-classroom-2Over 1,300 students, parents, and other protesters stood in front of Emerson School, refusing to go back inside or disperse until the school was returned to “all-white” status.
With the standoff, Wirt was forced to act. He agreed to establish another school for black students and transferred black Emerson students to then-new Theodore Roosevelt High School.
When depopulation starved the school of students in the early 1980s, the district re-organized Emerson into a Visual & Performing Arts magnet school to keep it open. The school would last another quarter-century before mother nature would close it in 2008, one year shy of its 100th birthday. The facility closure was due to Gary Community School Corporation budget cuts and to severe mold issues.
The building is on the National Register of Historic Places, but as of 2015, has been heavily vandalized.
Resources:
sometimes-interesting.com/2013/06/12/emerson-school-of-ga...
www.chicagotribune.com/suburbs/post-tribune/opinion/ct-pt...
Strolling down the Mall in Mussoorie, I came across these confident schoolgirls in tstylish North Indian dress [salwar kameez], which is their school uniform. They were walking, linking their arms to each other, conscious of their smart and elegant garb.
U.S. Army Spc. Jarkeveous Williams, assigned to 2nd Cavalry Regiment, trains the evacuation of a simulated casualty during the standardization part of this year's U.S. Army Europe Expert Field Medical Badge (EFMB) competition, at the Joint Multinational Training Command's Grafenwoehr Training Area, Germany, Aug. 25, 2014. 300 candidates from U.S. forces in Europe including 40 multinational participants are competing in the five-day challenge. The test is a rigorous evaluation of mental and physical skills and earning the badge requires a high degree of ability and focus. Passing rates range from 5-25 percent, making the EFMB a distinctive mark in a Soldier's records. The EFMB also provides multinational and U.S. service members the opportunity to train together and to gain a greater understanding of their abilities while building more competent and confident Soldiers. As an interoperable team, we deter and prevent future aggression and instability. (U.S. Army photo by Visual Information Specialist Gertrud Zach/released)
The soldier of the Red Empire marched confidently through the rubble-filled streets of the occupied city, his red uniform standing out against the gray of the ruined buildings. His white pants and black boots were kept clean and polished, a stark contrast to the desolation around him.
In his hands, he held a Machinepistol-23, its barrel glinting in the dim light. The weapon was a sleek and deadly machine, capable of unleashing a hail of bullets at any moment. The soldier was trained to use it with deadly accuracy, and he was ready to unleash its power at a moment's notice.
To protect his ears from the deafening noise of battle, the soldier wore a set of special headphones. The headphones were designed to block out the roar of gunfire and explosions, allowing the soldier to focus on his mission without being distracted or disoriented.
On his head, he wore a Type 1 helmet with a red headband. The helmet was a symbol of his allegiance to the Red Empire, and the headband marked him as a member of a special unit within the army.
As he moved through the streets, the soldier kept his eyes sharp, scanning for any sign of danger. He was ready for anything, and he knew that his training and equipment would keep him safe as long as he stayed alert and focused.
Despite the devastation around him, the soldier felt a sense of pride and purpose. He was a warrior of the Red Empire, and he knew that his actions would help to secure victory for his nation. With each step he took, he moved closer to his objective, determined to overcome any obstacle in his path.