View allAll Photos Tagged Lay-Off
SOOC;
I realize I don't really do self-portraits hahah but oh well this was fun. :)
I was recently tagged-- *dun dun dun* by crencorets and farisiaaaaa check out both of their streams because they're much better than i am!! :D
ten facts? about brenda lee?
1. i crack up at people who say stuff and it always comes out like a question: "Hey there, what's your name?" "uh... brenda?" "Oh hey Abrenda!" *giggle giggle snort snort* <-- jokes, i don't snort.
2. i very rarely take "normal" smiling pictures... it's just so easy to be like BLARGHHGHGHADASKLJDLKS and make a funny face. you know?
3. i fear people seeing me without makeup. (then again... i only wear eyeliner.. but my eyes are so teenytiny its indeed like a scavenger hunt to find them! first: find forehead, then eyebrows, then nose, then look in between. ¿donde están sus ojos chica?
4. every day should be sweatpants and a tshirt day. i think i bummed it at school for so long that when i'd wear a pair of jeans people would ask what the special occasion was.
5. i think stretching before running is silly. but i see that it probably has some merits.
6. due to cramping up during a track meet last year, i cut out all other drinks except water for the 10 months (i mean, occasionally i'll have some orange juice, grapefruit juice, a milkshake, etc, but rarely.)
7. i'm allergic to nickel metal. in the way where i get a rash, not where if i'm near it i start sneezing.
8. i cry easily. whether from watching chick flicks, laughing too hard, or just stress... it's like *streams of tears* and occasional *sniffle*
9. i laugh at inappropriate jokes and cheesy pickup lines are my kryptonite (oooh all in bad taste i know!) and basically anything ridiculously cheesy/goofy will at least get a giggle in my head
10. i don't like chocolate. (y'all should lay off the hater-ade on this one)
HI Great story- just a couple of things.
Seppeltsfield is now back in private hands- the Seppeltsfield Estate Trust (Kilikanoon\'s owners and Warren Randall) acquired it from Foster\'s
in 2007. Also happy to say the the magnificent 1888 Gravity Flow winery is back in full operation!
Nathan Waks (proprietor, executive director) Added 29/11/2010
Seppeltsfield is more than just a place that is steeped in over 150 years of Australian wine history; this is a unique, living, breathing museum and probably the most historically important wine site in Australia
. The owners, Penfolds and then subsequently Southcorp are to be commended for not only leaving this site alone, but for wearing the cost of maintaining it. Since our visit, readers will know that Fosters now owns the operation. Reliable sources have informed me that no sooner was the ink dry on the deal the bean counters went to work seeing how they can best utilise this site. It is crucial that these accountants and business analysis not just look at a return on investment; if they have no social conscience and desecrate what is a national wine shrine that can never be replaced, they deserve, as a company, and as individuals to rot in hell.
Strong words indeed and this is no rant. Whilst many people will have tasted many of the fine Seppelt fortified wines, there is so much more to this place than what is found in the bottle. Yes, the bottles contents can be anything from good to the ultimate sensual wine experience, but it is what is behind the bottle that makes it so special and if Fosters screw with that, they will not only have raped the product, Fosters will have pillaged and plundered a unique part of our wine heritage that can never be replaced.
Our appointment was with the God Father and custodian of this unique enterprise, James Godfrey who is also known as the fortified wine maker but lets go back to the beginning.
Hop in the time machine and head back to 1851. It took forward thinking and guts to leave your homeland and venture off into the unknown in those times; even if things were not exactly rosy in the “old country”. Joseph Seppelt, an immigrant from Poland, was just such a person; he purchased land in the Barossa, named it after himself, and decided to grow a few grapes. In those times, families had to be as self sufficient as possible. None of this popping down to the supermarket for a few spuds and bit of rump steak; you wanted it and you either had to grow it, or barter for it, with your own produce, so old Joseph had a mixed farm. At that time, there wasn’t any such thing as “the pill” or synthetic condoms, so old Joe prolifically produced more than just grapes.
Now young Benno (with a name like that, it looks like the uniquely Australian way of bastardising and changing names started early ) was a pretty smart chip of the old block and wound up being “the main man” of the family. By 1878 he was doing his own thing, and had a radical idea. He went to the Mrs and said, “Hay Mrs S, we have mucho barrels of good port every year; why don’t we put down a barrel every year and leave it for a 100 years?”
Many people think about putting down a few bottles for their kids 21st but I told you Benno was a forward thinker like his old man; why settle for 21 years when you are dealing with top port? Much better to think long term, (they not worried about maximising quarterly stock market yields in those days;) let the great, great, great grandkids have something incredibly special to celebrate their family heritage.
And so a tradition was born. As time went on, it quickly became apparent that one barrel would not be enough, they needed extra material for topping up purposes so three barrels became the norm, at the end of 100 years there is only the one barrel left, the other two have replace thed evaporation from the "master" barrel, no wonder it has a syrupy consistency and concentrated flavour. Like all great traditions, it is continued today, long after the last family member has left the firm.
Benno was a pretty eccentric dude, none of your baseball caps, or even an Akubra for this guy. Like the American Express card of today, legend has it that Benno never left home without “it”; it being a violin and an umbrella. Even stranger, when you consider that he used to get around the place on the white horse, what a sight he would be galloping off to do the weekly shopping.
Benno’s eccentricity didn't end there. Towards the end of the 18th century, there was a severe economic depression and Benno’s philanthropy came to the fore. Workers mightn't have had the unions to stand up for them in those days, but those working for Seppelt didn't need one; old Benno didn't lay off a single worker. Workers decided that a good way of prettying the joint up was to plant a few trees (there were even greenies back then,) and they propagated the date palm seeds from the two trees next to the Homestead. By way of saying thanks, over a period of time, two trees became two thousand. If you visit Seppeltsfield, you will see most of them are still there today.
But Seppelt's is so much more than 100 year old port and date palm trees. Once we met James Godfrey and exchanged pleasantries, we hung a left out of the office, walked past the original Seppelt family home; then we were surrounded by elm trees and a rainforest like garden. We proceeded over the small bridge that spans the creek; up the hill, and finally the padlocks were removed from the huge, old, sliding winery door. If you ever drive past the south side of Seppeltsfield, you will notice a large, (frankly bloody ugly) old structure, painted in some revolting shade of “heritage yellow” that has been built on terraced levels. The design of this building is no accident and was a very practical and cunning bit of design work, especially so when you consider how long ago it was built.
Built way before there were modern fandangled conveniences like electricity, this working winery was designed to take advantage of the technology of the time, gravity, and when available, a bit of steam power and chain drives. Although the winery is no longer used, it could become fully functional again with ease, all the basic structure is there, and only some of the furnishings would be required.
Merry Christmas everyone.
I think Santa needs to lay off the fast food !
Strobist: YN565ex @ 1/64 power grid snoot from above left. YN560II@1/64 power blue gel snoot from camera right behind subjects. Trigger yn622C.
HI Great story- just a couple of things.
Seppeltsfield is now back in private hands- the Seppeltsfield Estate Trust (Kilikanoon\'s owners and Warren Randall) acquired it from Foster\'s
in 2007. Also happy to say the the magnificent 1888 Gravity Flow winery is back in full operation!
Nathan Waks (proprietor, executive director)
Seppeltsfield is more than just a place that is steeped in over 150 years of Australian wine history; this is a unique, living, breathing museum and probably the most historically important wine site in Australia
. The owners, Penfolds and then subsequently Southcorp are to be commended for not only leaving this site alone, but for wearing the cost of maintaining it. Since our visit, readers will know that Fosters now owns the operation. Reliable sources have informed me that no sooner was the ink dry on the deal the bean counters went to work seeing how they can best utilise this site. It is crucial that these accountants and business analysis not just look at a return on investment; if they have no social conscience and desecrate what is a national wine shrine that can never be replaced, they deserve, as a company, and as individuals to rot in hell.
Strong words indeed and this is no rant. Whilst many people will have tasted many of the fine Seppelt fortified wines, there is so much more to this place than what is found in the bottle. Yes, the bottles contents can be anything from good to the ultimate sensual wine experience, but it is what is behind the bottle that makes it so special and if Fosters screw with that, they will not only have raped the product, Fosters will have pillaged and plundered a unique part of our wine heritage that can never be replaced.
Our appointment was with the God Father and custodian of this unique enterprise, James Godfrey who is also known as the fortified wine maker but lets go back to the beginning.
Hop in the time machine and head back to 1851. It took forward thinking and guts to leave your homeland and venture off into the unknown in those times; even if things were not exactly rosy in the “old country”. Joseph Seppelt, an immigrant from Poland, was just such a person; he purchased land in the Barossa, named it after himself, and decided to grow a few grapes. In those times, families had to be as self sufficient as possible. None of this popping down to the supermarket for a few spuds and bit of rump steak; you wanted it and you either had to grow it, or barter for it, with your own produce, so old Joseph had a mixed farm. At that time, there wasn’t any such thing as “the pill” or synthetic condoms, so old Joe prolifically produced more than just grapes.
Now young Benno (with a name like that, it looks like the uniquely Australian way of bastardising and changing names started early ) was a pretty smart chip of the old block and wound up being “the main man” of the family. By 1878 he was doing his own thing, and had a radical idea. He went to the Mrs and said, “Hay Mrs S, we have mucho barrels of good port every year; why don’t we put down a barrel every year and leave it for a 100 years?”
Many people think about putting down a few bottles for their kids 21st but I told you Benno was a forward thinker like his old man; why settle for 21 years when you are dealing with top port? Much better to think long term, (they not worried about maximising quarterly stock market yields in those days;) let the great, great, great grandkids have something incredibly special to celebrate their family heritage.
And so a tradition was born. As time went on, it quickly became apparent that one barrel would not be enough, they needed extra material for topping up purposes so three barrels became the norm, at the end of 100 years there is only the one barrel left, the other two have replace thed evaporation from the "master" barrel, no wonder it has a syrupy consistency and concentrated flavour. Like all great traditions, it is continued today, long after the last family member has left the firm.
Benno was a pretty eccentric dude, none of your baseball caps, or even an Akubra for this guy. Like the American Express card of today, legend has it that Benno never left home without “it”; it being a violin and an umbrella. Even stranger, when you consider that he used to get around the place on the white horse, what a sight he would be galloping off to do the weekly shopping.
Benno’s eccentricity didn't end there. Towards the end of the 18th century, there was a severe economic depression and Benno’s philanthropy came to the fore. Workers mightn't have had the unions to stand up for them in those days, but those working for Seppelt didn't need one; old Benno didn't lay off a single worker. Workers decided that a good way of prettying the joint up was to plant a few trees (there were even greenies back then,) and they propagated the date palm seeds from the two trees next to the Homestead. By way of saying thanks, over a period of time, two trees became two thousand. If you visit Seppeltsfield, you will see most of them are still there today.
But Seppelt's is so much more than 100 year old port and date palm trees. Once we met James Godfrey and exchanged pleasantries, we hung a left out of the office, walked past the original Seppelt family home; then we were surrounded by elm trees and a rainforest like garden. We proceeded over the small bridge that spans the creek; up the hill, and finally the padlocks were removed from the huge, old, sliding winery door. If you ever drive past the south side of Seppeltsfield, you will notice a large, (frankly bloody ugly) old structure, painted in some revolting shade of “heritage yellow” that has been built on terraced levels. The design of this building is no accident and was a very practical and cunning bit of design work, especially so when you consider how long ago it was built.
Built way before there were modern fandangled conveniences like electricity, this working winery was designed to take advantage of the technology of the time, gravity, and when available, a bit of steam power and chain drives. Although the winery is no longer used, it could become fully functional again with ease, all the basic structure is there, and only some of the furnishings would be required.
MILEY CYRUS STANDS HER GROUND ON GAY RIGHTS
Imagine finding someone you love more than anything in the world, who you would risk your life for but couldn't marry. And you couldn't have that special day the way your friends do — you know, wear the ring on your finger and have it mean the same thing as everybody else. Just put yourself in that person's shoes. It makes me feel sick to my stomach.
When I shared a picture of my tattoo on my Twitter page and said, "All LOVE is equal," a lot of people mocked me — they said, "What happened to you? You used to be a Christian girl!" And I said, "Well, if you were a true Christian, you would have your facts straight. Christianity is about love." The debate resulted in a lot of threats and hate mail to people who agreed and disagreed with me. At one point I had to say, "Dude, everyone lay off."
Can't people have friendly debates about sensitive topics without it turning into unnecessary threats?
I believe every American should be allowed the same rights and civil liberties. Without legalized same-sex marriage, most of the time you cannot share the same health benefits, you are not considered next of kin and you are not granted the same securities as a heterosexual couple. How is this different than having someone sit in the back of the bus because of their skin color?
One day I read online about the head of Urban Outfitters donating to a presidential candidate who does not support equality for everyone. I was shocked and disappointed that a company with such diversity would exclude such a large group of people. I can no longer bring myself to shop there.
We all should be tolerant of one another and embrace our differences. My dad [country singer Billy Ray Cyrus], who is a real man's man, lives on the farm and is as Southern and straight as they come. He loves my gay friends and even supports same-sex marriage. If my father can do it, anyone can.
This is America, the nation of dreams. We're so proud of that. And yet certain people are excluded. It's just not right.
So, as has been alluded to, 2011 sucks. It can bite me. I'm looking forward to 2013 (I'm skipping 2012 the way buildings skip the 13th floor). As a "coping" mechanism, I have been drowning my sorrows in froufrou drinks at Starbucks. But it's just too much and I really have to lay off it. So, with you as my witnesses, this shall be my last froufrou drink until the next 7 Days run.
*scared!*
I will allow myself plain coffee or tea from Starbucks (or other coffee places), and I may play around with making some homemade pumpkin spice coffees (but I am lazy so I don't expect to do it too often).
So I'm off. To enjoy my salted caramel mocha and play a little Portal before hitting the hay.
Wish me luck.
Apps used here are Snapseed for the b&w and adjustments to exposure (Thanks, Joe, for the heads-up!) and Labelbox for the, well, labels. Which I think I originally learned about here on 7days, but I can't remember from who.
Dating from 1849, it was the first Primitive Methodist chapel built in Bristol. Despite this historical significance, the building was (inexplicably) not listed and sat outside any so-called 'conservation area'.
It closed in 1938 but reopened as a Christadelphian hall in 1958 after Second World War bomb damage had been repaired. It was converted into a business in the 1980s.
The building kept many of its original fixtures and fittings until they were stripped out. They included the original galleries, pulpit, wooden floors and basements.
The building itself has had a chequered history: it opened as a Primitive Methodist chapel in 1849. Henry Overton Wills II, from the local tobacco dynasty, laid its foundation stone. It closed as a Methodist chapel in 1938 but reopened as a Christadelphian hall in 1958 after WW2 bomb damage had been repaired. It was converted into business premises in the 1980s.
The problem with churches and chapels is that often we tend to look at them in the wrong way. We see some as being of architectural significance, or as of religious significance, and often both.
What we don't do usually do is see them as social history.
Few of us, would be able to discourse eloquently about the chapel's architectural importance, though we're told that it is. What you can certainly say is that chapels like this were a critical part in the story of the rise of the working class.
The area around what is now Midland Road had once been fields and orchards, but it was built on very rapidly once the railways arrived. Housing and industries sprung up thanks to the new transport network, and with them a community.
Several churches and chapels, most of them near neighbours, were also built for the different religious denominations moving in. There were Anglicans, Wesleyans and Christian Brethren and more, though only the Ebnenezer Chapel is now the only remnant of the diverse religious life of that community.
While there were still open spaces, the area attracted evangelical and radical Christian sects, including the Primitive Methodists, who held big open air meetings and considered themselves the true heirs of the original spirit of John Wesley's movement.
The small evangelical community which they established in the Old Market area initially met at a chapel which was probably on the site of the later Central Hall.
They opened their first chapel in Bristol in the 1840s. Tobacco baron Henry Overton Wills laid the foundation stone for the Ebenezer Chapel. But despite a small amount of financial support from Wills, and from mining magnate Handel Cossham, the church was in debt for much of its history.
The architect is unknown, though it may have been by the same person who designed the Baptist Chapel in City Road.
The basement underneath the chapel was used as a Sunday school and in Victorian times the church apparently had a lively programme of social events. There were meetings of the Teetotal Society and bazaars and lectures, such as that delivered by Handel Cossham, on the life of widely liked and respected Bristol MP Samuel Morley.
The congregation went into decline in the 20th century, and after the war it became a Christadelphian Hall until the 1980s, when it was converted into business premises.
Put religious faith to one side for a moment, and merely consider how nonconformism gave working people structure and discipline in their lives. You can see this in the history of Methodism in Bristol; they weren't just getting people to praise the Lord. They were also telling people to lay off the drink, to live sober and responsible lives, save a bit of money, get themselves and their kids an education and improve themselves. John Wesley even wrote a manual on how to look after your health.
The Ebenezer is part of that story. It's a part of our heritage which we tend to ignore and no longer really understand in a less religious age, but that's the point. The Ebenezer Chapel is not just about religion; it's about how poor people in a poor but hard-working part of town managed to pull themselves up.
Demolished in 2014.
Many thanks to Aztec West and Paul Townsend for extra information.
HI Great story- just a couple of things.
Seppeltsfield is now back in private hands- the Seppeltsfield Estate Trust (Kilikanoon\'s owners and Warren Randall) acquired it from Foster\'s
in 2007. Also happy to say the the magnificent 1888 Gravity Flow winery is back in full operation!
Nathan Waks (proprietor, executive director)
Seppeltsfield is more than just a place that is steeped in over 150 years of Australian wine history; this is a unique, living, breathing museum and probably the most historically important wine site in Australia
. The owners, Penfolds and then subsequently Southcorp are to be commended for not only leaving this site alone, but for wearing the cost of maintaining it. Since our visit, readers will know that Fosters now owns the operation. Reliable sources have informed me that no sooner was the ink dry on the deal the bean counters went to work seeing how they can best utilise this site. It is crucial that these accountants and business analysis not just look at a return on investment; if they have no social conscience and desecrate what is a national wine shrine that can never be replaced, they deserve, as a company, and as individuals to rot in hell.
Strong words indeed and this is no rant. Whilst many people will have tasted many of the fine Seppelt fortified wines, there is so much more to this place than what is found in the bottle. Yes, the bottles contents can be anything from good to the ultimate sensual wine experience, but it is what is behind the bottle that makes it so special and if Fosters screw with that, they will not only have raped the product, Fosters will have pillaged and plundered a unique part of our wine heritage that can never be replaced.
Our appointment was with the God Father and custodian of this unique enterprise, James Godfrey who is also known as the fortified wine maker but lets go back to the beginning.
Hop in the time machine and head back to 1851. It took forward thinking and guts to leave your homeland and venture off into the unknown in those times; even if things were not exactly rosy in the “old country”. Joseph Seppelt, an immigrant from Poland, was just such a person; he purchased land in the Barossa, named it after himself, and decided to grow a few grapes. In those times, families had to be as self sufficient as possible. None of this popping down to the supermarket for a few spuds and bit of rump steak; you wanted it and you either had to grow it, or barter for it, with your own produce, so old Joseph had a mixed farm. At that time, there wasn’t any such thing as “the pill” or synthetic condoms, so old Joe prolifically produced more than just grapes.
Now young Benno (with a name like that, it looks like the uniquely Australian way of bastardising and changing names started early ) was a pretty smart chip of the old block and wound up being “the main man” of the family. By 1878 he was doing his own thing, and had a radical idea. He went to the Mrs and said, “Hay Mrs S, we have mucho barrels of good port every year; why don’t we put down a barrel every year and leave it for a 100 years?”
Many people think about putting down a few bottles for their kids 21st but I told you Benno was a forward thinker like his old man; why settle for 21 years when you are dealing with top port? Much better to think long term, (they not worried about maximising quarterly stock market yields in those days;) let the great, great, great grandkids have something incredibly special to celebrate their family heritage.
And so a tradition was born. As time went on, it quickly became apparent that one barrel would not be enough, they needed extra material for topping up purposes so three barrels became the norm, at the end of 100 years there is only the one barrel left, the other two have replace thed evaporation from the "master" barrel, no wonder it has a syrupy consistency and concentrated flavour. Like all great traditions, it is continued today, long after the last family member has left the firm.
Benno was a pretty eccentric dude, none of your baseball caps, or even an Akubra for this guy. Like the American Express card of today, legend has it that Benno never left home without “it”; it being a violin and an umbrella. Even stranger, when you consider that he used to get around the place on the white horse, what a sight he would be galloping off to do the weekly shopping.
Benno’s eccentricity didn't end there. Towards the end of the 18th century, there was a severe economic depression and Benno’s philanthropy came to the fore. Workers mightn't have had the unions to stand up for them in those days, but those working for Seppelt didn't need one; old Benno didn't lay off a single worker. Workers decided that a good way of prettying the joint up was to plant a few trees (there were even greenies back then,) and they propagated the date palm seeds from the two trees next to the Homestead. By way of saying thanks, over a period of time, two trees became two thousand. If you visit Seppeltsfield, you will see most of them are still there today.
But Seppelt's is so much more than 100 year old port and date palm trees. Once we met James Godfrey and exchanged pleasantries, we hung a left out of the office, walked past the original Seppelt family home; then we were surrounded by elm trees and a rainforest like garden. We proceeded over the small bridge that spans the creek; up the hill, and finally the padlocks were removed from the huge, old, sliding winery door. If you ever drive past the south side of Seppeltsfield, you will notice a large, (frankly bloody ugly) old structure, painted in some revolting shade of “heritage yellow” that has been built on terraced levels. The design of this building is no accident and was a very practical and cunning bit of design work, especially so when you consider how long ago it was built.
Built way before there were modern fandangled conveniences like electricity, this working winery was designed to take advantage of the technology of the time, gravity, and when available, a bit of steam power and chain drives. Although the winery is no longer used, it could become fully functional again with ease, all the basic structure is there, and only some of the furnishings would be required.
This is my skate/bike/scooter gang. Aka the skullz (self appointed name by the kiddos), #mywhy
Although they are loving the skate life on these sunny lockdown days the photo is them showing us what they think of COVID and lockdowns.
If you think the hell raiser in the pink skirt looks a bit like the girl from the ring you’re not wrong. I can confirm she has been attempting to climb on the ceiling at home, She’s even earned herself the nickname Sleia during Level 4.
The next mini me aka Bloody Mary (her self appointed skate gang name/she may need to lay off the YouTube) was kind enough to tell the girl from the ring in the line at the diary last week that she (Sleia) has COVID. This escalated to Sleia chasing her sister around like a cage fighter yelling I don’t have COVID, I don’t have COVID. The spectators really enjoyed the show.
My 10 year old bonus child must think that if you wear your COVID mask when you flip the bird we won’t know who it is 😂😂. At least her hands are clean - she is a super sanitiser and washes her hands every chance she gets in a slightly OCD way. A world full of this new virus is pretty overwhelming for kids and it has turned her into the germ police . When she grows up her Dad and I think she’ll end up as a medical scientist, which isn’t a bad thing.
The eldest in the pic has enough sense to take some action on getting out of these lockdowns plus is worried RnV will be cancelled so she, her Dad and myself have all had our 1st vaccine as we believe herd immunity is the only way to prevent future lockdowns, keep everyone safe and keep the economy going. #mywhy, lots of whys
We can’t wait to get back to normality soon, Sleia, Bloody Mary, the Super sanitiser and the Festival goer really need it! We all want to go on adventures outside of our neighbourhood again and see all of our family and friends that we are missing. #mywhy, lots of whys. A vaccine that takes 10 seconds is a small price to pay.
Bhopal is often called the "The City of Begums (Queens)" for the successive dynasty of Queens that ruled the city.
The most impressive structure in Bhopal is the Taj-ul-Masjid, one of the largest and most elegant mosques in India. Work on the mosque was commenced during the reign of Shah Jahan Begum of Bhopal, who ruled from 1868 to 1901. Taj-ul-Masjid literally translates as 'The Crown of Mosques', and the construction of the monument was characterised by sporadic bursts of activity alternating with spans of inactivity during the reigns of successive Begums. However, the monument was never completed due to lack of money, and after a long lay-off, construction was resumed in 1971. The building really presents a spectacular sight and is worth taking a bow to. It's pink façade is topped by two huge white-domed minarets pointing upwards to the heavens, as if seeking its blessings. The monument also has three huge bulbous domes, an impressive main hallway with attractive pillars, marble flooring and a spacious courtyard. The mosque is one of the most important landmarks in the city of Bhopal, and is multi-purpose as it is used as a madarsa (Islamic religious school) during the day.
Alcatraz. San Francisco, California. April/2018
The Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary or United States Penitentiary, Alcatraz Island (often just referred to as Alcatraz or the Rock) was a maximum high-security federal prison on Alcatraz Island, 1.25 miles (2.01 km) off the coast of San Francisco, California, which operated from August 11, 1934, until March 21, 1963.
The main prison building was built in 1910–1912 during its time as a United States Army military prison; Alcatraz had been the site of a citadel since the 1860s. The United States Disciplinary Barracks, Pacific Branch on Alcatraz was acquired by the United States Department of Justice on October 12, 1933, and the island became a prison of the Federal Bureau of Prisons in August 1934 after the buildings were modernized to meet the requirements of a top-notch security prison. Given this high security and the location of Alcatraz in the cold waters and strong currents of San Francisco Bay, the prison operators believed Alcatraz to be escape-proof and America's strongest prison.
Alcatraz was designed to hold prisoners who continuously caused trouble at other federal prisons. One of the world's most notorious and best known prisons over the years, Alcatraz housed some 1,576 of America's most ruthless criminals including Al Capone, Robert Franklin Stroud(the "Birdman of Alcatraz"), George "Machine Gun" Kelly, Bumpy Johnson, Rafael Cancel Miranda, Mickey Cohen, Arthur R. "Doc" Barker, Whitey Bulger, and Alvin "Creepy" Karpis (who served more time at Alcatraz than any other inmate). It also provided housing for the Bureau of Prisons' staff and their families. A total of 36 prisoners made 14 escape attempts during the 29 years of the prison's existence, the most notable of which were the violent escape attempt of May 1946 known as the "Battle of Alcatraz", and the arguably successful "Escape from Alcatraz" by Frank Morris, John Anglin, and Clarence Anglin in June 1962 in one of the most intricate escapes ever devised. Faced with high maintenance costs and a poor reputation, Alcatraz closed on March 21, 1963.
The three-story cellhouse included the main four blocks of the jail, A-block, B-block, C-block, and D-block, the warden's office, visitation room, the library, and the barber shop. The prison cells typically measured 9 feet (2.7 m) by 5 feet (1.5 m) and 7 feet (2.1 m) high. The cells were primitive and lacked privacy, with a bed, a desk and a washbasin and toilet on the back wall, with few furnishings except a blanket. African-Americans were segregated from the rest in cell designation due to racial abuse being prevalent. D-Block housed the worst inmates and five cells at the end of it were designated as "The Hole", where badly behaving prisoners would be sent for periods of punishment, often brutally so. The dining hall and kitchen lay off the main building in an extended part where both prisoners and staff would eat three meals a day together. The Alcatraz Hospital was above the dining hall.
Corridors of the prison were named after major American streets such as Broadway and Michigan Avenue. Working at the prison was considered a privilege for inmates and many of the better inmates were employed in the Model Industries Building and New Industries Building during the day, actively involved in providing for the military in jobs such as sewing and woodwork and performing various maintenance and laundry chores.
Today the penitentiary is a public museum and one of San Francisco's major tourist attractions, attracting some 1.5 million visitors annually. The former prison is now operated by the National Park Service's Golden Gate National Recreation Area, and the badly eroded buildings of the former prison have been subject to restoration works in recent times and maintained
Source: Wikipedia
Alcatraz é uma ilha localizada no meio da Baía de São Francisco na Califórnia, Estados Unidos. Inicialmente foi utilizada como base militar, e somente mais tarde foi convertida em uma prisão de segurança máxima. Atualmente, é um ponto turístico operado pelo National Park Service junto com a Área de Recreação Golden Gate.
Alcatraz foi uma base militar de 1850 a 1930. Posteriormente, foi adquirida pelo Departamento de Justiça dos Estados Unidos, em 12 de outubro de 1933, quando sofreu a conversão. Em 1 de janeiro de 1934, foi re-inaugurada como uma Prisão Federal. Durante seus 29 anos de existência, a prisão alojou alguns dos maiores criminosos norte-americanos. A prisão foi fechada em 21 de março de 1963, menos de um ano após a primeira fuga realizada na prisão. O governo alegou que o complexo foi fechado devido ao seu alto custo de manutenção, e ao fato de que não garantia uma total segurança, em relação às prisões mais modernas. Era mais fácil e mais barato construir uma prisão nova do que melhorar as condições de Alcatraz.
Em 1969, um grupo de nativos norte-americanos criou um movimento que ocupou a ilha, baseando-se num tratado federal de 1868, que permitia que os nativos utilizassem todo o território que o governo não usava ativamente . Após quase dois anos de ocupação, o governo os retirou da ilha.
Durante 29 anos, a prisão de Alcatraz nunca registrou oficialmente fugas bem sucedidas de prisioneiros. Em todas as tentativas, os fugitivos foram mortos ou afogavam-se nas águas da baia de São Francisco. Três fugitivos, Frank Morris, e os irmãos John e Clarence Anglin, desapareceram das sua celas em 11 de Junho de 1962. Somente algumas provas foram encontradas, e elas levam a crer que os prisioneiros morreram, mas, oficialmente, ainda estão listados como desaparecidos e provavelmente afogados. Em 1979 foi feito um filme sobre essa fuga com Clint Eastwood chamado Escape from Alcatraz. A história chegou a ser testada no programa "Mythbusters-Os Caçadores de Mitos" no episódio Fuga de Alcatraz.
Em outubro de 2015 documentário do canal "History" foi divulgado, onde foram apresentadas novas evidências que indicam que os irmãos Anglin não somente sobreviveram, como mantiveram contato com sua família e teriam fugido para o Brasil.
Fonte: Wikipedia
We had a HS Rodeo in Texarkana today. I really hoped that my picture today would be of Tyler bull riding, but with the weather the arena was just to dark to get any shots.
I think I have mentioned that I'm not a winter weather girl. Today just confirmed that. I think my dad said it best when he said, "I love rodeo. But not on days like this." Although the arena is covered, you still have to walk to and from the horse trailer multiple times during the day. And the bathroom. Especially when your drinking coffee like it's been poured from the fountain of youth. Being cold and damp all day made me miserable. I hope my kid appreciates how much I love her, because I wouldn't have been in that weather for any other reason.
Today was the first day that Alissa has ridden Buddy in almost 4 months. He has been out with a mysterious injury. We're not sure what he did or how he did it. He just came up lame. At first the Vet thought it was an infection, but after a round of high powered antibiotics that was ruled out. He suggested we lay off him for a while. Fortunately, most of the Rodeos have been canceled during this time due to the uncharacteristic weather Arkansas has been having.
They had a decent run. Not great, but decent. Alissa doesn't have an ounce of hustle in her whole body. Sadly neither does Buddy. It doesn't make for the best barrel racing team. They did place 11 out of 28. Only one placing out of points. But it was a really good confidence booster for her to have a good clean run.
If you know me, you know that I'm not one to "dress up" often. I really don't for horse events. I'm not wearing my best clothes and shoes when I'm going to be rubbing up against horses and stepping in poo. But I do normally try to look presentable.
Something told me to wear my old tennis shoes today. I hadn't checked the weather; I didn't know it was suppose to rain. I just had this gut feeling that I needed to wear my old shoes. The ones with holes in the toes.
I'm so glad I did. And those are my socks. They were white when I put them on.
HI Great story- just a couple of things.
Seppeltsfield is now back in private hands- the Seppeltsfield Estate Trust (Kilikanoon\'s owners and Warren Randall) acquired it from Foster\'s
in 2007. Also happy to say the the magnificent 1888 Gravity Flow winery is back in full operation!
Nathan Waks (proprietor, executive director)
Seppeltsfield is more than just a place that is steeped in over 150 years of Australian wine history; this is a unique, living, breathing museum and probably the most historically important wine site in Australia
. The owners, Penfolds and then subsequently Southcorp are to be commended for not only leaving this site alone, but for wearing the cost of maintaining it. Since our visit, readers will know that Fosters now owns the operation. Reliable sources have informed me that no sooner was the ink dry on the deal the bean counters went to work seeing how they can best utilise this site. It is crucial that these accountants and business analysis not just look at a return on investment; if they have no social conscience and desecrate what is a national wine shrine that can never be replaced, they deserve, as a company, and as individuals to rot in hell.
Strong words indeed and this is no rant. Whilst many people will have tasted many of the fine Seppelt fortified wines, there is so much more to this place than what is found in the bottle. Yes, the bottles contents can be anything from good to the ultimate sensual wine experience, but it is what is behind the bottle that makes it so special and if Fosters screw with that, they will not only have raped the product, Fosters will have pillaged and plundered a unique part of our wine heritage that can never be replaced.
Our appointment was with the God Father and custodian of this unique enterprise, James Godfrey who is also known as the fortified wine maker but lets go back to the beginning.
Hop in the time machine and head back to 1851. It took forward thinking and guts to leave your homeland and venture off into the unknown in those times; even if things were not exactly rosy in the “old country”. Joseph Seppelt, an immigrant from Poland, was just such a person; he purchased land in the Barossa, named it after himself, and decided to grow a few grapes. In those times, families had to be as self sufficient as possible. None of this popping down to the supermarket for a few spuds and bit of rump steak; you wanted it and you either had to grow it, or barter for it, with your own produce, so old Joseph had a mixed farm. At that time, there wasn’t any such thing as “the pill” or synthetic condoms, so old Joe prolifically produced more than just grapes.
Now young Benno (with a name like that, it looks like the uniquely Australian way of bastardising and changing names started early ) was a pretty smart chip of the old block and wound up being “the main man” of the family. By 1878 he was doing his own thing, and had a radical idea. He went to the Mrs and said, “Hay Mrs S, we have mucho barrels of good port every year; why don’t we put down a barrel every year and leave it for a 100 years?”
Many people think about putting down a few bottles for their kids 21st but I told you Benno was a forward thinker like his old man; why settle for 21 years when you are dealing with top port? Much better to think long term, (they not worried about maximising quarterly stock market yields in those days;) let the great, great, great grandkids have something incredibly special to celebrate their family heritage.
And so a tradition was born. As time went on, it quickly became apparent that one barrel would not be enough, they needed extra material for topping up purposes so three barrels became the norm, at the end of 100 years there is only the one barrel left, the other two have replace thed evaporation from the "master" barrel, no wonder it has a syrupy consistency and concentrated flavour. Like all great traditions, it is continued today, long after the last family member has left the firm.
Benno was a pretty eccentric dude, none of your baseball caps, or even an Akubra for this guy. Like the American Express card of today, legend has it that Benno never left home without “it”; it being a violin and an umbrella. Even stranger, when you consider that he used to get around the place on the white horse, what a sight he would be galloping off to do the weekly shopping.
Benno’s eccentricity didn't end there. Towards the end of the 18th century, there was a severe economic depression and Benno’s philanthropy came to the fore. Workers mightn't have had the unions to stand up for them in those days, but those working for Seppelt didn't need one; old Benno didn't lay off a single worker. Workers decided that a good way of prettying the joint up was to plant a few trees (there were even greenies back then,) and they propagated the date palm seeds from the two trees next to the Homestead. By way of saying thanks, over a period of time, two trees became two thousand. If you visit Seppeltsfield, you will see most of them are still there today.
But Seppelt's is so much more than 100 year old port and date palm trees. Once we met James Godfrey and exchanged pleasantries, we hung a left out of the office, walked past the original Seppelt family home; then we were surrounded by elm trees and a rainforest like garden. We proceeded over the small bridge that spans the creek; up the hill, and finally the padlocks were removed from the huge, old, sliding winery door. If you ever drive past the south side of Seppeltsfield, you will notice a large, (frankly bloody ugly) old structure, painted in some revolting shade of “heritage yellow” that has been built on terraced levels. The design of this building is no accident and was a very practical and cunning bit of design work, especially so when you consider how long ago it was built.
Built way before there were modern fandangled conveniences like electricity, this working winery was designed to take advantage of the technology of the time, gravity, and when available, a bit of steam power and chain drives. Although the winery is no longer used, it could become fully functional again with ease, all the basic structure is there, and only some of the furnishings would be required.
Yes, I know the location is Hall of Fame. Those of you involved in prior postings, please lay off for a few days.
HI Great story- just a couple of things.
Seppeltsfield is now back in private hands- the Seppeltsfield Estate Trust (Kilikanoon\'s owners and Warren Randall) acquired it from Foster\'s
in 2007. Also happy to say the the magnificent 1888 Gravity Flow winery is back in full operation!
Nathan Waks (proprietor, executive director)
Seppeltsfield is more than just a place that is steeped in over 150 years of Australian wine history; this is a unique, living, breathing museum and probably the most historically important wine site in Australia
. The owners, Penfolds and then subsequently Southcorp are to be commended for not only leaving this site alone, but for wearing the cost of maintaining it. Since our visit, readers will know that Fosters now owns the operation. Reliable sources have informed me that no sooner was the ink dry on the deal the bean counters went to work seeing how they can best utilise this site. It is crucial that these accountants and business analysis not just look at a return on investment; if they have no social conscience and desecrate what is a national wine shrine that can never be replaced, they deserve, as a company, and as individuals to rot in hell.
Strong words indeed and this is no rant. Whilst many people will have tasted many of the fine Seppelt fortified wines, there is so much more to this place than what is found in the bottle. Yes, the bottles contents can be anything from good to the ultimate sensual wine experience, but it is what is behind the bottle that makes it so special and if Fosters screw with that, they will not only have raped the product, Fosters will have pillaged and plundered a unique part of our wine heritage that can never be replaced.
Our appointment was with the God Father and custodian of this unique enterprise, James Godfrey who is also known as the fortified wine maker but lets go back to the beginning.
Hop in the time machine and head back to 1851. It took forward thinking and guts to leave your homeland and venture off into the unknown in those times; even if things were not exactly rosy in the “old country”. Joseph Seppelt, an immigrant from Poland, was just such a person; he purchased land in the Barossa, named it after himself, and decided to grow a few grapes. In those times, families had to be as self sufficient as possible. None of this popping down to the supermarket for a few spuds and bit of rump steak; you wanted it and you either had to grow it, or barter for it, with your own produce, so old Joseph had a mixed farm. At that time, there wasn’t any such thing as “the pill” or synthetic condoms, so old Joe prolifically produced more than just grapes.
Now young Benno (with a name like that, it looks like the uniquely Australian way of bastardising and changing names started early ) was a pretty smart chip of the old block and wound up being “the main man” of the family. By 1878 he was doing his own thing, and had a radical idea. He went to the Mrs and said, “Hay Mrs S, we have mucho barrels of good port every year; why don’t we put down a barrel every year and leave it for a 100 years?”
Many people think about putting down a few bottles for their kids 21st but I told you Benno was a forward thinker like his old man; why settle for 21 years when you are dealing with top port? Much better to think long term, (they not worried about maximising quarterly stock market yields in those days;) let the great, great, great grandkids have something incredibly special to celebrate their family heritage.
And so a tradition was born. As time went on, it quickly became apparent that one barrel would not be enough, they needed extra material for topping up purposes so three barrels became the norm, at the end of 100 years there is only the one barrel left, the other two have replace thed evaporation from the "master" barrel, no wonder it has a syrupy consistency and concentrated flavour. Like all great traditions, it is continued today, long after the last family member has left the firm.
Benno was a pretty eccentric dude, none of your baseball caps, or even an Akubra for this guy. Like the American Express card of today, legend has it that Benno never left home without “it”; it being a violin and an umbrella. Even stranger, when you consider that he used to get around the place on the white horse, what a sight he would be galloping off to do the weekly shopping.
Benno’s eccentricity didn't end there. Towards the end of the 18th century, there was a severe economic depression and Benno’s philanthropy came to the fore. Workers mightn't have had the unions to stand up for them in those days, but those working for Seppelt didn't need one; old Benno didn't lay off a single worker. Workers decided that a good way of prettying the joint up was to plant a few trees (there were even greenies back then,) and they propagated the date palm seeds from the two trees next to the Homestead. By way of saying thanks, over a period of time, two trees became two thousand. If you visit Seppeltsfield, you will see most of them are still there today.
But Seppelt's is so much more than 100 year old port and date palm trees. Once we met James Godfrey and exchanged pleasantries, we hung a left out of the office, walked past the original Seppelt family home; then we were surrounded by elm trees and a rainforest like garden. We proceeded over the small bridge that spans the creek; up the hill, and finally the padlocks were removed from the huge, old, sliding winery door. If you ever drive past the south side of Seppeltsfield, you will notice a large, (frankly bloody ugly) old structure, painted in some revolting shade of “heritage yellow” that has been built on terraced levels. The design of this building is no accident and was a very practical and cunning bit of design work, especially so when you consider how long ago it was built.
Built way before there were modern fandangled conveniences like electricity, this working winery was designed to take advantage of the technology of the time, gravity, and when available, a bit of steam power and chain drives. Although the winery is no longer used, it could become fully functional again with ease, all the basic structure is there, and only some of the furnishings would be required.
Maywood is a small city in southeast Los Angeles County, California. At 1.18 square miles (3.1 km2), Maywood is the third-smallest incorporated city in Los Angeles County. It is bordered by the cities of Bell on the south, Vernon on the north and west, Huntington Park on the southwest, and Commerce on the east.
As of July 1, 2010, Maywood became the first municipality in California to outsource all of its city services, dismantling its police department, laying off all city employees except for the city manager, city attorney and elected officials, and contracting with outside agencies for the provision of all municipal services. The population was 27,395 at the 2010 census.
The area that would later become Maywood was deeded in 1781 by the Spanish monarchy to Spanish War veteran Manuel Nieto. When the settlement of Pueblo de Nuestra Senora de Los Angeles was recorded, it included the cow pasture (now Maywood) that eventually turned into a rancho.
The Chrysler Corporation had an auto assembly plant in Maywood from the 1920s until its closing in July 1971. It was located at 5800 Eastern Avenue at Slauson, and was generally referred to as the "Los Angeles" Plant. When the city of Commerce was incorporated in 1961, that corner was annexed as were several in the surrounding area.
Lockheed Hudson Mk IIIA (T9422) at the North Atlantic Aviation Museum
Willys-Overland built its California factory in Maywood, California, in 1929. Over 900 people were employed at the new $1.5 million assembly plant. Willys-Overland became the second automobile manufacturer to build a major plant in the city. After the United States entered World War II, automobile production for civilians was phased out and in November 1941, automobile assembly at Maywood was stopped. A great many automobile plants were retooled to manufacture war machinery and for three years during the war, the Lockheed Aircraft Corporation rented the plant building from Willys-Overland for that purpose. Equipment was installed for the manufacture of sub-assemblies for Hudson Bombers [18] until the war ended. Willys-Overland began to manufacture the first Jeeps (CJ-2As) for civilians in 1945. As the demand for Jeeps increased, the reconditioning of the plant back to automobile assembly began early in 1947 and by November, Willys was building "West Coast" CJ-2As. By the end of November, 108 Jeeps had been assembled.[19] Jeep Trucks and Station Wagons were incorporated into the West Coast Division's "final assemblies" production lines in 1948. The Maywood plant produced the entire CJ-3A model production duration and about 5% of all CJ-3As were assembled in California. In 1952, Willys-Overland introduced a new post-war model car, the Aero, and they were assembled in both Maywood and Toledo. The entire plant was shut down in 1954.
Postwar Maywood was a flourishing blue-collar, multi-ethnic suburb of Los Angeles. There were plenty of industrial jobs in aerospace, food processing, auto and furniture manufacturing. But, the early 1970s saw these jobs disappear with the pressure of higher taxes, increased local and state regulation, and the desirability of cheaper land and labor in other markets. Maywood would change over the next two decades by the influx of Hispanic immigrants.
Maywood has the second largest percentage of Latino residents in Los Angeles County, according to the 2000 census, at 96.4%.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maywood,_California
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:Text_of_Creative_Commons_...
I love the detail of the new leaves. Each leaf says to me Lady you are gonna have more tomatoes than a girl could shake a stick out. That and Lay off the french fries already. Silly leaves. The delicate flavorings of french fries only add to the wonder that is the delectable home grown tomato.
Highland Park High School / Junior College / Career Academy
In many ways, the histories of Detroit and Highland Park – a separate city located within the borders of Detroit –are very similar. Both cities experienced tremendous growth as a result of the automobile industry, and built up their city services to meet demand. Both cities lost population after the auto industry left. And today, both cities are struggling with how to provide the same city services to fewer people with less tax revenue. Budget cuts have led to the closure of most of Highland Park’s fire stations, libraries, and schools.
A three-block stretch of Highland Street running west from Woodward Avenue was one the civic center of the city. Along Highland and nearby streets were five schools, three churches, two hospitals, and the main library, mixed in with ornate high-rise apartment buildings. In this densely populated neighborhood one could be born, baptized, attend nursery school, elementary school, high school, and college, all without going more than three blocks in any direction. Right at the center of the neighborhood is the old Highland Park High School and Junior College, a block-long slab of quarry-faced limestone that played an important role in the development of Highland Park from an obscure village into an industrial boomtown.
Early days in Highland Park
In 1900, Highland Park was just a small village north of Detroit, population 427. Through the early 1900’s, the city grew as Detroit developed north along Woodward Avenue, spurring residential development. In 1907, Henry Ford began to move his automobile production from the Piquette Avenue Plant in Detroit to a new, much larger factory located in Highland Park. The factory opened in 1909; a year later the population of Highland Park had risen to 4,120 as workers quickly built up neighborhoods around the Ford plant.
Like other early school districts, Highland Park Schools taught from Kindergarten to the 8th grade level, at which point young adults were expected to join the workforce. Starting in 1911, high school courses were introduced, with 42 students enrolled in 9th and 10th grade levels at Stevens Elementary, then moved to the new Ferris School when it opened in November. The next year 11th and 12th grades were introduced. Demand for higher education was enough that by 1912, plans were underway to build a dedicated high school building.
Building a new high school
Initially the board of education wanted to build the new high school east of Woodward Avenue, at Farrand and John R Streets, but instead settled a large rectangular parcel of land along Glendale Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenues. Though the high school would take up only a small part of the land, school officials wanted additional space to expand the school if needed. Excavation at the site began as the first high school class of 14 students graduated from Ferris School in 1913. In 1914, a contract for construction of the new building designed by Wells D. Butterfield was awarded for $460,000. It could comfortably seat 1,000 students, though it was believed that it would be quite a few years before the school reached capacity.
The first unit of Highland Park High School was of English type architecture, laid out with a central mass three stories tall, with two end wings linked by classrooms. The east wing had a 1,100-seat auditorium, and the west wing featured a three-story gymnasium and basement swimming pool. In the center were school offices, a library, and recitation rooms. The exterior was done up in quarry-faced gray limestone, with mouldings and detail work of dressed Bedford stone. Inside the school were long hallways of Caen stone and ornamental carved oak. Dedicated classrooms included sewing, carpentry, machine tooling, botany, chemistry, and drawing.
The cornerstone was laid down in October of 1914. Construction on the high school had progressed far enough that by June of 1915, the auditorium was used for graduation as work on the rest of the building continued. The new building was scheduled to formally open in September, but even before then school administrators were facing an unanticipated problem: overcrowding.
Expansion
Between 1910 and 1916, the population of Highland Park grew from 4,100 to 28,000. By 1920 there would be 46,500 residents, a staggering 1,000% increase in population over just 10 years. Workers from across the globe were drawn to Detroit and Highland Park in particular, by the Ford factory and its promise of a $5 a day wage. The assembly line had revolutionized the way that cars were made, and in doing so, made Highland Park the center of the automotive revolution. The school board found itself with hundreds of new students every year, requiring hasty additions to existing school buildings, and the construction of new schools in neighborhoods that were springing up around town.
By the time Highland Park High School opened in September of 1915, enrollment far exceeded expectations, with 850 students signing up. In 1916, just a year after it opened, that number grew to over 1,000 high school students, filling the school to capacity. Plans for a second unit of the high school for 1,500 additional students to be built next to the first were immediately drawn up, with construction beginning in 1917.
Though the second unit of the high school used identical building materials and same English styling as the first, it was laid out differently. Initially the second unit was intended to be a high school for girls and a junior college, and was built with its own separate gymnasium and swimming pool. Instead of a second auditorium, a larger library and additional classrooms were set aside for a junior college program that would share the building with the girl’s high school. The new high school for girls opened in September of 1918, with a total enrollment of 1,525 students. Highland Park Junior College opened in 1918 as well, with 35 students. Course offerings included French, rhetoric, history, chemistry, zoology, and analytic geometry.
Within a few years the two high school programs merged and became co-ed. In 1927, a vocational education building including an automobile repair lab was built to south of the school, connected by an overhead walkway. A further addition to the vocational wing was added in 1938, and the auditorium was renovated in 1939. The high school thrived, with as many as 3,000 students and a host of extracurricular activities, including athletics, homemaking, and a school radio station.
Great Depression, Second World War
Enrollment at Highland Park Junior College steadily increased to around 300 students by the 1920’s, but slowed in the aftermath of the Great Depression. Lack of adequate space and a drop in the number of students to 159 in 1929 nearly led to the closure of college, but the residents of Highland Park voted to keep it open. This paid off in the long run, as after the Second World War ended enrollment skyrocketed from 117 in 1943 to 1,800 in 1947 as veterans returning to Highland Park used the GI bill to pay for college education.
By the 1940’s, population in Highland Park had peaked. Ford had moved auto production out of Highland Park to a new factory in the suburbs in 1927, and moved its headquarters to Dearborn in 1930. The construction of freeways made it easier for people to live outside the city, hastening an outward flight or residents to the suburbs. The racial composition of Highland Park changed as well. By 1968, over half of the 4,488 students were black, while teachers and administrators were mostly white. Sit-ins protesting the lack of diversity in the school administration were frequent in 1969.
The high school moves out
As part of a district-wide modernization program, several older schools in Highland Park were demolished and replaced with newer buildings in the 1950’s and 60’s. A nursery school was built on the south side of the campus in 1950, and an elementary school was built a block south in 1961. Plans for a new, modern high school to be built north on Woodward Avenue were drawn up in the early 1970’s, which would replace the existing school. The junior college (now a community college) would take over the entire building and expand its vocational offerings.
Construction on the new building was already underway when on the evening of March 18th 1975, a large fire broke out in the gymnasium of the old high school. Stacks of rolled-up wrestling mats were set alight as a practical joke, but the blaze quickly spread out of control, causing the roof and floor to cave into the basement swimming pool. The fire burned for over five hours as firefighters from Highland Park, Detroit, and Hamtramck struggled to contain it to just the gymnasium. While smoke and water damage throughout the high school were repaired fairly quickly, repairing the gymnasium was estimated to cost over $600,000. Since the high school was moving out in the near future, athletics were moved over to the community college building, which had its own pool and gymnasium. In 1977, the new Highland Park Community High School on Woodward Avenue opened, and the community college took over the Glendale campus. A temporary roof was built over the shell of the burned-out gymnasium, as administrators struggled with what to do next.
Not wishing to demolish the handsome limestone façade of the gym, the wing sat empty until 1983, when the community college approached Bloomfield Hills landscape architect James Scott about reusing the space. Scott envisioned turning the empty hall into a “multi-purpose concourse” and performing arts space, linking the two units together. Within a few days his ideas went from sketches to planning, and work began a short time later. The swimming pool, into which burning debris from above had been dumped, was covered by a new floor and sealed off. The open area above was a mix of the old and new, retaining the limestone wall of the adjacent gym, but incorporating modern styling throughout. Hexagons were the dominant theme, with planters turning the concourse into a green space. Work on the renovation concluded in 1985. In the years after the space was used for concerts, special events, and art galleries.
Community college struggles
Though enrollment at Highland Park Community College was 2,000 to 3,000 through most of the 1980’s, the college operated at a deficit that had grown to $1.4 million dollars by 1989. In an effort to save money, school administrators cut the LPN and respiratory therapy programs, sparking a four-day sit in strike by students. Though the administration reverses its decision, the financial situation continued to deteriorate, with accusations of rampant misuse of funds. After missing two consecutive annual audits, Michigan Governer John Engler began to withhold state funding for the college, as investigators report that Highland Park Community College “had the worst facilities of any community college in the state.”
In February of 1995, Governor Engler announced that all funding for the college would be stripped from the budget due to chronic financial and academic problems, stating, “Though the college has a long and distinguished tradition, it has become apparent that it is no longer an economically viable institution." Local representatives fought hard to keep the school open, arguing that it was making progress in fixing its financial situation and that the loss of the school would be devastating to Highland Park’s troubled economy. By December of 1995 the college had run out of money, and closed down.
Highland Park Career Academy, Final Years
The immediate impact of the closing of Highland Park Community College was that students were stranded in mid-study, some just a semester away from graduation. Though other nearby colleges tried to accommodate students, many never finished their studies, and walked away from secondary education. While elected officials fought to get funding restored, the school reopened as the Highland Park Career Academy, offering an alternative high school program and vocational training for students and young adults in the fields of nursing, dental hygiene, and auto repair. In 2001, the Ford Motor Company opened an automotive training center in the vocational education building, complete with demonstration cars.
Highland Park City Schools steadily lost students through the 2000’s, with K-12 enrollment falling to 2,700 by 2008 as students were lured away to other nearby school districts. As schools were funded by the state on a per pupil basis, this led to a major revenue shortfall for Highland Park. On January 23rd, 2009 the school board shut down the career academy with no official notification to parents, laying off 36 teachers to close the budget gap. Students were again left in the lurch with the cancellation of their programs, with few options for continuing their studies elsewhere. and leaving students stranded in mid-study. Only seniors were allowed to stay at the school until the end of the school year, with the remaining students to attend night school at Highland Park Community High School. However, the first scheduled night of classes was canceled without explanation. Most students dropped out, and the building closed for good in the summer of 2009.
For over 90 years, the old high school and college had been the center of Highland Park’s education system. By the time the school closed, the neighborhood and city around it had changed considerably. Ferris School and the hospitals closed in the 1990’s, along with the main library in 2002. The nursery school closed permanently in 2005. Most of the apartment buildings along Glendale and Highland had been vacated years ago, leaving large gaps in the fabric of the neighborhood. In the end, the closing of the career academy wound up costing the school district a large amount of funding, as students dropped out or left for other school districts. With just 969 students enrolled in 2012, the state of Michigan declared a financial emergency, and the Highland Park City Schools were taken over by a state emergency financial manager, who converted the district into a privately operated charter school system.
The new charter school operator found that the three remaining school buildings – Highland Park Community High, Ford, and Barber – were in terrible disrepair, and required proximately expensive work to be brought up to standards. In early 2012, school officials started looking at consolidating all of the schools into one K-12 as a way to save money. One alternative discussed was the reopening of the old high school and college building, which was large enough to support all of the students left in the district. The emergency manager visited the closed building in February to see if it would viable to reopen.
Since its closing in 2009, the old high school and college had been frozen in time, with little more than security and routine maintenance being carried out in its empty halls and classrooms. Though fairly secure for a few years, when the state took over the Highland Park City Schools, patrols at the closed building had been discontinued, leaving the school briefly open to scrappers and metal thieves. In the short time between the state takeover and the resumption of security at the school, scrappers had done enough damage to make reopening the school cost prohibitive. The plan was abandoned in favor of letting the three remaining schools stay open.
In the years since, scrappers and vandals have dismantled the old Highland Park High School. When the local Police department set up two non-working squad cars in the back of the building to deter people from entering, the cars were vandalized and removed less than a month later. In October of 2012 the windows of the school were boarded up, but by that time the damage had been done. The property was put up for sale with an asking price of $3 million dollars.
HI Great story- just a couple of things.
Seppeltsfield is now back in private hands- the Seppeltsfield Estate Trust (Kilikanoon\'s owners and Warren Randall) acquired it from Foster\'s
in 2007. Also happy to say the the magnificent 1888 Gravity Flow winery is back in full operation!
Nathan Waks (proprietor, executive director)
Seppeltsfield is more than just a place that is steeped in over 150 years of Australian wine history; this is a unique, living, breathing museum and probably the most historically important wine site in Australia
. The owners, Penfolds and then subsequently Southcorp are to be commended for not only leaving this site alone, but for wearing the cost of maintaining it. Since our visit, readers will know that Fosters now owns the operation. Reliable sources have informed me that no sooner was the ink dry on the deal the bean counters went to work seeing how they can best utilise this site. It is crucial that these accountants and business analysis not just look at a return on investment; if they have no social conscience and desecrate what is a national wine shrine that can never be replaced, they deserve, as a company, and as individuals to rot in hell.
Strong words indeed and this is no rant. Whilst many people will have tasted many of the fine Seppelt fortified wines, there is so much more to this place than what is found in the bottle. Yes, the bottles contents can be anything from good to the ultimate sensual wine experience, but it is what is behind the bottle that makes it so special and if Fosters screw with that, they will not only have raped the product, Fosters will have pillaged and plundered a unique part of our wine heritage that can never be replaced.
Our appointment was with the God Father and custodian of this unique enterprise, James Godfrey who is also known as the fortified wine maker but lets go back to the beginning.
Hop in the time machine and head back to 1851. It took forward thinking and guts to leave your homeland and venture off into the unknown in those times; even if things were not exactly rosy in the “old country”. Joseph Seppelt, an immigrant from Poland, was just such a person; he purchased land in the Barossa, named it after himself, and decided to grow a few grapes. In those times, families had to be as self sufficient as possible. None of this popping down to the supermarket for a few spuds and bit of rump steak; you wanted it and you either had to grow it, or barter for it, with your own produce, so old Joseph had a mixed farm. At that time, there wasn’t any such thing as “the pill” or synthetic condoms, so old Joe prolifically produced more than just grapes.
Now young Benno (with a name like that, it looks like the uniquely Australian way of bastardising and changing names started early ) was a pretty smart chip of the old block and wound up being “the main man” of the family. By 1878 he was doing his own thing, and had a radical idea. He went to the Mrs and said, “Hay Mrs S, we have mucho barrels of good port every year; why don’t we put down a barrel every year and leave it for a 100 years?”
Many people think about putting down a few bottles for their kids 21st but I told you Benno was a forward thinker like his old man; why settle for 21 years when you are dealing with top port? Much better to think long term, (they not worried about maximising quarterly stock market yields in those days;) let the great, great, great grandkids have something incredibly special to celebrate their family heritage.
And so a tradition was born. As time went on, it quickly became apparent that one barrel would not be enough, they needed extra material for topping up purposes so three barrels became the norm, at the end of 100 years there is only the one barrel left, the other two have replace thed evaporation from the "master" barrel, no wonder it has a syrupy consistency and concentrated flavour. Like all great traditions, it is continued today, long after the last family member has left the firm.
Benno was a pretty eccentric dude, none of your baseball caps, or even an Akubra for this guy. Like the American Express card of today, legend has it that Benno never left home without “it”; it being a violin and an umbrella. Even stranger, when you consider that he used to get around the place on the white horse, what a sight he would be galloping off to do the weekly shopping.
Benno’s eccentricity didn't end there. Towards the end of the 18th century, there was a severe economic depression and Benno’s philanthropy came to the fore. Workers mightn't have had the unions to stand up for them in those days, but those working for Seppelt didn't need one; old Benno didn't lay off a single worker. Workers decided that a good way of prettying the joint up was to plant a few trees (there were even greenies back then,) and they propagated the date palm seeds from the two trees next to the Homestead. By way of saying thanks, over a period of time, two trees became two thousand. If you visit Seppeltsfield, you will see most of them are still there today.
But Seppelt's is so much more than 100 year old port and date palm trees. Once we met James Godfrey and exchanged pleasantries, we hung a left out of the office, walked past the original Seppelt family home; then we were surrounded by elm trees and a rainforest like garden. We proceeded over the small bridge that spans the creek; up the hill, and finally the padlocks were removed from the huge, old, sliding winery door. If you ever drive past the south side of Seppeltsfield, you will notice a large, (frankly bloody ugly) old structure, painted in some revolting shade of “heritage yellow” that has been built on terraced levels. The design of this building is no accident and was a very practical and cunning bit of design work, especially so when you consider how long ago it was built.
Built way before there were modern fandangled conveniences like electricity, this working winery was designed to take advantage of the technology of the time, gravity, and when available, a bit of steam power and chain drives. Although the winery is no longer used, it could become fully functional again with ease, all the basic structure is there, and only some of the furnishings would be required.
www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/east-bay-university-to-shut-dow...
East Bay university to shut down after 154 years, citing challenges from COVID-19
A venerable 154-year-old Catholic university in Oakland is preparing to shut down at the end of the spring semester, citing a jump in administrative costs and declining enrollment after the COVID-19 pandemic took hold
Holy Names University issued advance warnings of possible mass layoffs Dec. 1, while also handing notices to 32 employees the institution expects to lay off at the end of January or in early February. Officials are also set to disband Holy Names’ sports programs once the season wraps up in the spring.
As the university’s fate became apparent, administrators entered an agreement with another Catholic college, Dominican University of California in San Rafael, to accept students transferring from Holy Names after the spring semester. Students would retain credit for their coursework and have the option to complete their degrees at Dominican, according to a statement released by Holy Names on Monday.
Administrators at Dominican would also try to shift faculty and staff from the shuttered Holy Names campus into similar positions at Dominican’s San Rafael site. Meanwhile, leaders at Holy Names are still seeking a home for two beloved campus programs that are not part of the agreement with Dominican: the Raskob Learning Institute and Day School for elementary school students with disabilities, and the Kodály Center for Music Education, which offers lessons for children with a pedagogical method that includes games and movement.
University President Mike Groener struck a grave tone in an open letter to students and faculty last month, in which he announced that Holy Names would no longer offer an athletic program in the fall.
“Knowing the important role that athletics has in our community makes this news difficult to share,” Groener wrote, stressing his responsibility to be transparent about the changes ahead.
Holy Names Board Chairperson Steven Borg described the many headwinds lashing the university, from the escalating cost of running programs, supplying financial aid and repairing facilities, to a dramatic cratering of the student population.
While the university had a strong five-year strategic business plan, Borg said, it was unable to withstand the intensifying challenges of COVID-19 and a turbulent economy, both of which derailed students’ academic careers.
These hardships converged at a moment of national reckoning about the cost of higher education, declining enrollment and a high school graduation rate that appears to be flattening, Borg said in an interview Monday. He said the population that Holy Names serves — consisting largely of students of color and people representing the first generation in their families to attend college — has suffered disproportionately from the pandemic and subsequent economic strain.
Nearly 1,000 students — 520 undergraduates and 423 graduates — were enrolled in Holy Names in the fall of 2022, but that number dropped precipitously, with only 449 students remaining for the spring semester.
“We’be been on this journey for quite some time,” Borg said, barely suppressing a sigh. “Five years ago we decided to build a business plan and use it to secure long-term financing. We were plugging along and hitting milestones, and then COVID-19 hit.”
He characterized the pandemic as a time of introspection for the university, at which point board members looked at the pressures on colleges and universities across the country, and realized it was “unlikely (Holy Names) could sustain itself.”
As an alumnus of Holy Names, Borg said he felt heartbroken about the impending closure.
“This is not just business,” he said. “This is very personal.”
Rachel Swan is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer. Email: rswan@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @rachelswan
HI Great story- just a couple of things.
Seppeltsfield is now back in private hands- the Seppeltsfield Estate Trust (Kilikanoon\'s owners and Warren Randall) acquired it from Foster\'s
in 2007. Also happy to say the the magnificent 1888 Gravity Flow winery is back in full operation!
Nathan Waks (proprietor, executive director)
Seppeltsfield is more than just a place that is steeped in over 150 years of Australian wine history; this is a unique, living, breathing museum and probably the most historically important wine site in Australia
. The owners, Penfolds and then subsequently Southcorp are to be commended for not only leaving this site alone, but for wearing the cost of maintaining it. Since our visit, readers will know that Fosters now owns the operation. Reliable sources have informed me that no sooner was the ink dry on the deal the bean counters went to work seeing how they can best utilise this site. It is crucial that these accountants and business analysis not just look at a return on investment; if they have no social conscience and desecrate what is a national wine shrine that can never be replaced, they deserve, as a company, and as individuals to rot in hell.
Strong words indeed and this is no rant. Whilst many people will have tasted many of the fine Seppelt fortified wines, there is so much more to this place than what is found in the bottle. Yes, the bottles contents can be anything from good to the ultimate sensual wine experience, but it is what is behind the bottle that makes it so special and if Fosters screw with that, they will not only have raped the product, Fosters will have pillaged and plundered a unique part of our wine heritage that can never be replaced.
Our appointment was with the God Father and custodian of this unique enterprise, James Godfrey who is also known as the fortified wine maker but lets go back to the beginning.
Hop in the time machine and head back to 1851. It took forward thinking and guts to leave your homeland and venture off into the unknown in those times; even if things were not exactly rosy in the “old country”. Joseph Seppelt, an immigrant from Poland, was just such a person; he purchased land in the Barossa, named it after himself, and decided to grow a few grapes. In those times, families had to be as self sufficient as possible. None of this popping down to the supermarket for a few spuds and bit of rump steak; you wanted it and you either had to grow it, or barter for it, with your own produce, so old Joseph had a mixed farm. At that time, there wasn’t any such thing as “the pill” or synthetic condoms, so old Joe prolifically produced more than just grapes.
Now young Benno (with a name like that, it looks like the uniquely Australian way of bastardising and changing names started early ) was a pretty smart chip of the old block and wound up being “the main man” of the family. By 1878 he was doing his own thing, and had a radical idea. He went to the Mrs and said, “Hay Mrs S, we have mucho barrels of good port every year; why don’t we put down a barrel every year and leave it for a 100 years?”
Many people think about putting down a few bottles for their kids 21st but I told you Benno was a forward thinker like his old man; why settle for 21 years when you are dealing with top port? Much better to think long term, (they not worried about maximising quarterly stock market yields in those days;) let the great, great, great grandkids have something incredibly special to celebrate their family heritage.
And so a tradition was born. As time went on, it quickly became apparent that one barrel would not be enough, they needed extra material for topping up purposes so three barrels became the norm, at the end of 100 years there is only the one barrel left, the other two have replace thed evaporation from the "master" barrel, no wonder it has a syrupy consistency and concentrated flavour. Like all great traditions, it is continued today, long after the last family member has left the firm.
Benno was a pretty eccentric dude, none of your baseball caps, or even an Akubra for this guy. Like the American Express card of today, legend has it that Benno never left home without “it”; it being a violin and an umbrella. Even stranger, when you consider that he used to get around the place on the white horse, what a sight he would be galloping off to do the weekly shopping.
Benno’s eccentricity didn't end there. Towards the end of the 18th century, there was a severe economic depression and Benno’s philanthropy came to the fore. Workers mightn't have had the unions to stand up for them in those days, but those working for Seppelt didn't need one; old Benno didn't lay off a single worker. Workers decided that a good way of prettying the joint up was to plant a few trees (there were even greenies back then,) and they propagated the date palm seeds from the two trees next to the Homestead. By way of saying thanks, over a period of time, two trees became two thousand. If you visit Seppeltsfield, you will see most of them are still there today.
But Seppelt's is so much more than 100 year old port and date palm trees. Once we met James Godfrey and exchanged pleasantries, we hung a left out of the office, walked past the original Seppelt family home; then we were surrounded by elm trees and a rainforest like garden. We proceeded over the small bridge that spans the creek; up the hill, and finally the padlocks were removed from the huge, old, sliding winery door. If you ever drive past the south side of Seppeltsfield, you will notice a large, (frankly bloody ugly) old structure, painted in some revolting shade of “heritage yellow” that has been built on terraced levels. The design of this building is no accident and was a very practical and cunning bit of design work, especially so when you consider how long ago it was built.
Built way before there were modern fandangled conveniences like electricity, this working winery was designed to take advantage of the technology of the time, gravity, and when available, a bit of steam power and chain drives. Although the winery is no longer used, it could become fully functional again with ease, all the basic structure is there, and only some of the furnishings would be required.
HI Great story- just a couple of things.
Seppeltsfield is now back in private hands- the Seppeltsfield Estate Trust (Kilikanoon\'s owners and Warren Randall) acquired it from Foster\'s
in 2007. Also happy to say the the magnificent 1888 Gravity Flow winery is back in full operation!
Nathan Waks (proprietor, executive director)
Seppeltsfield is more than just a place that is steeped in over 150 years of Australian wine history; this is a unique, living, breathing museum and probably the most historically important wine site in Australia
. The owners, Penfolds and then subsequently Southcorp are to be commended for not only leaving this site alone, but for wearing the cost of maintaining it. Since our visit, readers will know that Fosters now owns the operation. Reliable sources have informed me that no sooner was the ink dry on the deal the bean counters went to work seeing how they can best utilise this site. It is crucial that these accountants and business analysis not just look at a return on investment; if they have no social conscience and desecrate what is a national wine shrine that can never be replaced, they deserve, as a company, and as individuals to rot in hell.
Strong words indeed and this is no rant. Whilst many people will have tasted many of the fine Seppelt fortified wines, there is so much more to this place than what is found in the bottle. Yes, the bottles contents can be anything from good to the ultimate sensual wine experience, but it is what is behind the bottle that makes it so special and if Fosters screw with that, they will not only have raped the product, Fosters will have pillaged and plundered a unique part of our wine heritage that can never be replaced.
Our appointment was with the God Father and custodian of this unique enterprise, James Godfrey who is also known as the fortified wine maker but lets go back to the beginning.
Hop in the time machine and head back to 1851. It took forward thinking and guts to leave your homeland and venture off into the unknown in those times; even if things were not exactly rosy in the “old country”. Joseph Seppelt, an immigrant from Poland, was just such a person; he purchased land in the Barossa, named it after himself, and decided to grow a few grapes. In those times, families had to be as self sufficient as possible. None of this popping down to the supermarket for a few spuds and bit of rump steak; you wanted it and you either had to grow it, or barter for it, with your own produce, so old Joseph had a mixed farm. At that time, there wasn’t any such thing as “the pill” or synthetic condoms, so old Joe prolifically produced more than just grapes.
Now young Benno (with a name like that, it looks like the uniquely Australian way of bastardising and changing names started early ) was a pretty smart chip of the old block and wound up being “the main man” of the family. By 1878 he was doing his own thing, and had a radical idea. He went to the Mrs and said, “Hay Mrs S, we have mucho barrels of good port every year; why don’t we put down a barrel every year and leave it for a 100 years?”
Many people think about putting down a few bottles for their kids 21st but I told you Benno was a forward thinker like his old man; why settle for 21 years when you are dealing with top port? Much better to think long term, (they not worried about maximising quarterly stock market yields in those days;) let the great, great, great grandkids have something incredibly special to celebrate their family heritage.
And so a tradition was born. As time went on, it quickly became apparent that one barrel would not be enough, they needed extra material for topping up purposes so three barrels became the norm, at the end of 100 years there is only the one barrel left, the other two have replace thed evaporation from the "master" barrel, no wonder it has a syrupy consistency and concentrated flavour. Like all great traditions, it is continued today, long after the last family member has left the firm.
Benno was a pretty eccentric dude, none of your baseball caps, or even an Akubra for this guy. Like the American Express card of today, legend has it that Benno never left home without “it”; it being a violin and an umbrella. Even stranger, when you consider that he used to get around the place on the white horse, what a sight he would be galloping off to do the weekly shopping.
Benno’s eccentricity didn't end there. Towards the end of the 18th century, there was a severe economic depression and Benno’s philanthropy came to the fore. Workers mightn't have had the unions to stand up for them in those days, but those working for Seppelt didn't need one; old Benno didn't lay off a single worker. Workers decided that a good way of prettying the joint up was to plant a few trees (there were even greenies back then,) and they propagated the date palm seeds from the two trees next to the Homestead. By way of saying thanks, over a period of time, two trees became two thousand. If you visit Seppeltsfield, you will see most of them are still there today.
But Seppelt's is so much more than 100 year old port and date palm trees. Once we met James Godfrey and exchanged pleasantries, we hung a left out of the office, walked past the original Seppelt family home; then we were surrounded by elm trees and a rainforest like garden. We proceeded over the small bridge that spans the creek; up the hill, and finally the padlocks were removed from the huge, old, sliding winery door. If you ever drive past the south side of Seppeltsfield, you will notice a large, (frankly bloody ugly) old structure, painted in some revolting shade of “heritage yellow” that has been built on terraced levels. The design of this building is no accident and was a very practical and cunning bit of design work, especially so when you consider how long ago it was built.
Built way before there were modern fandangled conveniences like electricity, this working winery was designed to take advantage of the technology of the time, gravity, and when available, a bit of steam power and chain drives. Although the winery is no longer used, it could become fully functional again with ease, all the basic structure is there, and only some of the furnishings would be required.
Algiers, Algeria - Nicknamed El-Bahdja or alternatively Alger la Blanche ("Algiers the White") for the glistening white of its buildings as seen rising up from the sea, Algiers is situated on the west side of a bay of the Mediterranean Sea. The city name is derived from the Arabic word al-jaz??ir, which translates as the islands, referring to the four islands which lay off the city's coast until becoming part of the mainland in 1525.
HI Great story- just a couple of things.
Seppeltsfield is now back in private hands- the Seppeltsfield Estate Trust (Kilikanoon\'s owners and Warren Randall) acquired it from Foster\'s
in 2007. Also happy to say the the magnificent 1888 Gravity Flow winery is back in full operation!
Nathan Waks (proprietor, executive director)
Seppeltsfield is more than just a place that is steeped in over 150 years of Australian wine history; this is a unique, living, breathing museum and probably the most historically important wine site in Australia
. The owners, Penfolds and then subsequently Southcorp are to be commended for not only leaving this site alone, but for wearing the cost of maintaining it. Since our visit, readers will know that Fosters now owns the operation. Reliable sources have informed me that no sooner was the ink dry on the deal the bean counters went to work seeing how they can best utilise this site. It is crucial that these accountants and business analysis not just look at a return on investment; if they have no social conscience and desecrate what is a national wine shrine that can never be replaced, they deserve, as a company, and as individuals to rot in hell.
Strong words indeed and this is no rant. Whilst many people will have tasted many of the fine Seppelt fortified wines, there is so much more to this place than what is found in the bottle. Yes, the bottles contents can be anything from good to the ultimate sensual wine experience, but it is what is behind the bottle that makes it so special and if Fosters screw with that, they will not only have raped the product, Fosters will have pillaged and plundered a unique part of our wine heritage that can never be replaced.
Our appointment was with the God Father and custodian of this unique enterprise, James Godfrey who is also known as the fortified wine maker but lets go back to the beginning.
Hop in the time machine and head back to 1851. It took forward thinking and guts to leave your homeland and venture off into the unknown in those times; even if things were not exactly rosy in the “old country”. Joseph Seppelt, an immigrant from Poland, was just such a person; he purchased land in the Barossa, named it after himself, and decided to grow a few grapes. In those times, families had to be as self sufficient as possible. None of this popping down to the supermarket for a few spuds and bit of rump steak; you wanted it and you either had to grow it, or barter for it, with your own produce, so old Joseph had a mixed farm. At that time, there wasn’t any such thing as “the pill” or synthetic condoms, so old Joe prolifically produced more than just grapes.
Now young Benno (with a name like that, it looks like the uniquely Australian way of bastardising and changing names started early ) was a pretty smart chip of the old block and wound up being “the main man” of the family. By 1878 he was doing his own thing, and had a radical idea. He went to the Mrs and said, “Hay Mrs S, we have mucho barrels of good port every year; why don’t we put down a barrel every year and leave it for a 100 years?”
Many people think about putting down a few bottles for their kids 21st but I told you Benno was a forward thinker like his old man; why settle for 21 years when you are dealing with top port? Much better to think long term, (they not worried about maximising quarterly stock market yields in those days;) let the great, great, great grandkids have something incredibly special to celebrate their family heritage.
And so a tradition was born. As time went on, it quickly became apparent that one barrel would not be enough, they needed extra material for topping up purposes so three barrels became the norm, at the end of 100 years there is only the one barrel left, the other two have replace thed evaporation from the "master" barrel, no wonder it has a syrupy consistency and concentrated flavour. Like all great traditions, it is continued today, long after the last family member has left the firm.
Benno was a pretty eccentric dude, none of your baseball caps, or even an Akubra for this guy. Like the American Express card of today, legend has it that Benno never left home without “it”; it being a violin and an umbrella. Even stranger, when you consider that he used to get around the place on the white horse, what a sight he would be galloping off to do the weekly shopping.
Benno’s eccentricity didn't end there. Towards the end of the 18th century, there was a severe economic depression and Benno’s philanthropy came to the fore. Workers mightn't have had the unions to stand up for them in those days, but those working for Seppelt didn't need one; old Benno didn't lay off a single worker. Workers decided that a good way of prettying the joint up was to plant a few trees (there were even greenies back then,) and they propagated the date palm seeds from the two trees next to the Homestead. By way of saying thanks, over a period of time, two trees became two thousand. If you visit Seppeltsfield, you will see most of them are still there today.
But Seppelt's is so much more than 100 year old port and date palm trees. Once we met James Godfrey and exchanged pleasantries, we hung a left out of the office, walked past the original Seppelt family home; then we were surrounded by elm trees and a rainforest like garden. We proceeded over the small bridge that spans the creek; up the hill, and finally the padlocks were removed from the huge, old, sliding winery door. If you ever drive past the south side of Seppeltsfield, you will notice a large, (frankly bloody ugly) old structure, painted in some revolting shade of “heritage yellow” that has been built on terraced levels. The design of this building is no accident and was a very practical and cunning bit of design work, especially so when you consider how long ago it was built.
Built way before there were modern fandangled conveniences like electricity, this working winery was designed to take advantage of the technology of the time, gravity, and when available, a bit of steam power and chain drives. Although the winery is no longer used, it could become fully functional again with ease, all the basic structure is there, and only some of the furnishings would be required.
Highland Park High School / Junior College / Career Academy
In many ways, the histories of Detroit and Highland Park – a separate city located within the borders of Detroit –are very similar. Both cities experienced tremendous growth as a result of the automobile industry, and built up their city services to meet demand. Both cities lost population after the auto industry left. And today, both cities are struggling with how to provide the same city services to fewer people with less tax revenue. Budget cuts have led to the closure of most of Highland Park’s fire stations, libraries, and schools.
A three-block stretch of Highland Street running west from Woodward Avenue was one the civic center of the city. Along Highland and nearby streets were five schools, three churches, two hospitals, and the main library, mixed in with ornate high-rise apartment buildings. In this densely populated neighborhood one could be born, baptized, attend nursery school, elementary school, high school, and college, all without going more than three blocks in any direction. Right at the center of the neighborhood is the old Highland Park High School and Junior College, a block-long slab of quarry-faced limestone that played an important role in the development of Highland Park from an obscure village into an industrial boomtown.
Early days in Highland Park
In 1900, Highland Park was just a small village north of Detroit, population 427. Through the early 1900’s, the city grew as Detroit developed north along Woodward Avenue, spurring residential development. In 1907, Henry Ford began to move his automobile production from the Piquette Avenue Plant in Detroit to a new, much larger factory located in Highland Park. The factory opened in 1909; a year later the population of Highland Park had risen to 4,120 as workers quickly built up neighborhoods around the Ford plant.
Like other early school districts, Highland Park Schools taught from Kindergarten to the 8th grade level, at which point young adults were expected to join the workforce. Starting in 1911, high school courses were introduced, with 42 students enrolled in 9th and 10th grade levels at Stevens Elementary, then moved to the new Ferris School when it opened in November. The next year 11th and 12th grades were introduced. Demand for higher education was enough that by 1912, plans were underway to build a dedicated high school building.
Building a new high school
Initially the board of education wanted to build the new high school east of Woodward Avenue, at Farrand and John R Streets, but instead settled a large rectangular parcel of land along Glendale Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenues. Though the high school would take up only a small part of the land, school officials wanted additional space to expand the school if needed. Excavation at the site began as the first high school class of 14 students graduated from Ferris School in 1913. In 1914, a contract for construction of the new building designed by Wells D. Butterfield was awarded for $460,000. It could comfortably seat 1,000 students, though it was believed that it would be quite a few years before the school reached capacity.
The first unit of Highland Park High School was of English type architecture, laid out with a central mass three stories tall, with two end wings linked by classrooms. The east wing had a 1,100-seat auditorium, and the west wing featured a three-story gymnasium and basement swimming pool. In the center were school offices, a library, and recitation rooms. The exterior was done up in quarry-faced gray limestone, with mouldings and detail work of dressed Bedford stone. Inside the school were long hallways of Caen stone and ornamental carved oak. Dedicated classrooms included sewing, carpentry, machine tooling, botany, chemistry, and drawing.
The cornerstone was laid down in October of 1914. Construction on the high school had progressed far enough that by June of 1915, the auditorium was used for graduation as work on the rest of the building continued. The new building was scheduled to formally open in September, but even before then school administrators were facing an unanticipated problem: overcrowding.
Expansion
Between 1910 and 1916, the population of Highland Park grew from 4,100 to 28,000. By 1920 there would be 46,500 residents, a staggering 1,000% increase in population over just 10 years. Workers from across the globe were drawn to Detroit and Highland Park in particular, by the Ford factory and its promise of a $5 a day wage. The assembly line had revolutionized the way that cars were made, and in doing so, made Highland Park the center of the automotive revolution. The school board found itself with hundreds of new students every year, requiring hasty additions to existing school buildings, and the construction of new schools in neighborhoods that were springing up around town.
By the time Highland Park High School opened in September of 1915, enrollment far exceeded expectations, with 850 students signing up. In 1916, just a year after it opened, that number grew to over 1,000 high school students, filling the school to capacity. Plans for a second unit of the high school for 1,500 additional students to be built next to the first were immediately drawn up, with construction beginning in 1917.
Though the second unit of the high school used identical building materials and same English styling as the first, it was laid out differently. Initially the second unit was intended to be a high school for girls and a junior college, and was built with its own separate gymnasium and swimming pool. Instead of a second auditorium, a larger library and additional classrooms were set aside for a junior college program that would share the building with the girl’s high school. The new high school for girls opened in September of 1918, with a total enrollment of 1,525 students. Highland Park Junior College opened in 1918 as well, with 35 students. Course offerings included French, rhetoric, history, chemistry, zoology, and analytic geometry.
Within a few years the two high school programs merged and became co-ed. In 1927, a vocational education building including an automobile repair lab was built to south of the school, connected by an overhead walkway. A further addition to the vocational wing was added in 1938, and the auditorium was renovated in 1939. The high school thrived, with as many as 3,000 students and a host of extracurricular activities, including athletics, homemaking, and a school radio station.
Great Depression, Second World War
Enrollment at Highland Park Junior College steadily increased to around 300 students by the 1920’s, but slowed in the aftermath of the Great Depression. Lack of adequate space and a drop in the number of students to 159 in 1929 nearly led to the closure of college, but the residents of Highland Park voted to keep it open. This paid off in the long run, as after the Second World War ended enrollment skyrocketed from 117 in 1943 to 1,800 in 1947 as veterans returning to Highland Park used the GI bill to pay for college education.
By the 1940’s, population in Highland Park had peaked. Ford had moved auto production out of Highland Park to a new factory in the suburbs in 1927, and moved its headquarters to Dearborn in 1930. The construction of freeways made it easier for people to live outside the city, hastening an outward flight or residents to the suburbs. The racial composition of Highland Park changed as well. By 1968, over half of the 4,488 students were black, while teachers and administrators were mostly white. Sit-ins protesting the lack of diversity in the school administration were frequent in 1969.
The high school moves out
As part of a district-wide modernization program, several older schools in Highland Park were demolished and replaced with newer buildings in the 1950’s and 60’s. A nursery school was built on the south side of the campus in 1950, and an elementary school was built a block south in 1961. Plans for a new, modern high school to be built north on Woodward Avenue were drawn up in the early 1970’s, which would replace the existing school. The junior college (now a community college) would take over the entire building and expand its vocational offerings.
Construction on the new building was already underway when on the evening of March 18th 1975, a large fire broke out in the gymnasium of the old high school. Stacks of rolled-up wrestling mats were set alight as a practical joke, but the blaze quickly spread out of control, causing the roof and floor to cave into the basement swimming pool. The fire burned for over five hours as firefighters from Highland Park, Detroit, and Hamtramck struggled to contain it to just the gymnasium. While smoke and water damage throughout the high school were repaired fairly quickly, repairing the gymnasium was estimated to cost over $600,000. Since the high school was moving out in the near future, athletics were moved over to the community college building, which had its own pool and gymnasium. In 1977, the new Highland Park Community High School on Woodward Avenue opened, and the community college took over the Glendale campus. A temporary roof was built over the shell of the burned-out gymnasium, as administrators struggled with what to do next.
Not wishing to demolish the handsome limestone façade of the gym, the wing sat empty until 1983, when the community college approached Bloomfield Hills landscape architect James Scott about reusing the space. Scott envisioned turning the empty hall into a “multi-purpose concourse” and performing arts space, linking the two units together. Within a few days his ideas went from sketches to planning, and work began a short time later. The swimming pool, into which burning debris from above had been dumped, was covered by a new floor and sealed off. The open area above was a mix of the old and new, retaining the limestone wall of the adjacent gym, but incorporating modern styling throughout. Hexagons were the dominant theme, with planters turning the concourse into a green space. Work on the renovation concluded in 1985. In the years after the space was used for concerts, special events, and art galleries.
Community college struggles
Though enrollment at Highland Park Community College was 2,000 to 3,000 through most of the 1980’s, the college operated at a deficit that had grown to $1.4 million dollars by 1989. In an effort to save money, school administrators cut the LPN and respiratory therapy programs, sparking a four-day sit in strike by students. Though the administration reverses its decision, the financial situation continued to deteriorate, with accusations of rampant misuse of funds. After missing two consecutive annual audits, Michigan Governer John Engler began to withhold state funding for the college, as investigators report that Highland Park Community College “had the worst facilities of any community college in the state.”
In February of 1995, Governor Engler announced that all funding for the college would be stripped from the budget due to chronic financial and academic problems, stating, “Though the college has a long and distinguished tradition, it has become apparent that it is no longer an economically viable institution." Local representatives fought hard to keep the school open, arguing that it was making progress in fixing its financial situation and that the loss of the school would be devastating to Highland Park’s troubled economy. By December of 1995 the college had run out of money, and closed down.
Highland Park Career Academy, Final Years
The immediate impact of the closing of Highland Park Community College was that students were stranded in mid-study, some just a semester away from graduation. Though other nearby colleges tried to accommodate students, many never finished their studies, and walked away from secondary education. While elected officials fought to get funding restored, the school reopened as the Highland Park Career Academy, offering an alternative high school program and vocational training for students and young adults in the fields of nursing, dental hygiene, and auto repair. In 2001, the Ford Motor Company opened an automotive training center in the vocational education building, complete with demonstration cars.
Highland Park City Schools steadily lost students through the 2000’s, with K-12 enrollment falling to 2,700 by 2008 as students were lured away to other nearby school districts. As schools were funded by the state on a per pupil basis, this led to a major revenue shortfall for Highland Park. On January 23rd, 2009 the school board shut down the career academy with no official notification to parents, laying off 36 teachers to close the budget gap. Students were again left in the lurch with the cancellation of their programs, with few options for continuing their studies elsewhere. and leaving students stranded in mid-study. Only seniors were allowed to stay at the school until the end of the school year, with the remaining students to attend night school at Highland Park Community High School. However, the first scheduled night of classes was canceled without explanation. Most students dropped out, and the building closed for good in the summer of 2009.
For over 90 years, the old high school and college had been the center of Highland Park’s education system. By the time the school closed, the neighborhood and city around it had changed considerably. Ferris School and the hospitals closed in the 1990’s, along with the main library in 2002. The nursery school closed permanently in 2005. Most of the apartment buildings along Glendale and Highland had been vacated years ago, leaving large gaps in the fabric of the neighborhood. In the end, the closing of the career academy wound up costing the school district a large amount of funding, as students dropped out or left for other school districts. With just 969 students enrolled in 2012, the state of Michigan declared a financial emergency, and the Highland Park City Schools were taken over by a state emergency financial manager, who converted the district into a privately operated charter school system.
The new charter school operator found that the three remaining school buildings – Highland Park Community High, Ford, and Barber – were in terrible disrepair, and required proximately expensive work to be brought up to standards. In early 2012, school officials started looking at consolidating all of the schools into one K-12 as a way to save money. One alternative discussed was the reopening of the old high school and college building, which was large enough to support all of the students left in the district. The emergency manager visited the closed building in February to see if it would viable to reopen.
Since its closing in 2009, the old high school and college had been frozen in time, with little more than security and routine maintenance being carried out in its empty halls and classrooms. Though fairly secure for a few years, when the state took over the Highland Park City Schools, patrols at the closed building had been discontinued, leaving the school briefly open to scrappers and metal thieves. In the short time between the state takeover and the resumption of security at the school, scrappers had done enough damage to make reopening the school cost prohibitive. The plan was abandoned in favor of letting the three remaining schools stay open.
In the years since, scrappers and vandals have dismantled the old Highland Park High School. When the local Police department set up two non-working squad cars in the back of the building to deter people from entering, the cars were vandalized and removed less than a month later. In October of 2012 the windows of the school were boarded up, but by that time the damage had been done. The property was put up for sale with an asking price of $3 million dollars.
HI Great story- just a couple of things.
Seppeltsfield is now back in private hands- the Seppeltsfield Estate Trust (Kilikanoon\'s owners and Warren Randall) acquired it from Foster\'s
in 2007. Also happy to say the the magnificent 1888 Gravity Flow winery is back in full operation!
Nathan Waks (proprietor, executive director)
Seppeltsfield is more than just a place that is steeped in over 150 years of Australian wine history; this is a unique, living, breathing museum and probably the most historically important wine site in Australia
. The owners, Penfolds and then subsequently Southcorp are to be commended for not only leaving this site alone, but for wearing the cost of maintaining it. Since our visit, readers will know that Fosters now owns the operation. Reliable sources have informed me that no sooner was the ink dry on the deal the bean counters went to work seeing how they can best utilise this site. It is crucial that these accountants and business analysis not just look at a return on investment; if they have no social conscience and desecrate what is a national wine shrine that can never be replaced, they deserve, as a company, and as individuals to rot in hell.
Strong words indeed and this is no rant. Whilst many people will have tasted many of the fine Seppelt fortified wines, there is so much more to this place than what is found in the bottle. Yes, the bottles contents can be anything from good to the ultimate sensual wine experience, but it is what is behind the bottle that makes it so special and if Fosters screw with that, they will not only have raped the product, Fosters will have pillaged and plundered a unique part of our wine heritage that can never be replaced.
Our appointment was with the God Father and custodian of this unique enterprise, James Godfrey who is also known as the fortified wine maker but lets go back to the beginning.
Hop in the time machine and head back to 1851. It took forward thinking and guts to leave your homeland and venture off into the unknown in those times; even if things were not exactly rosy in the “old country”. Joseph Seppelt, an immigrant from Poland, was just such a person; he purchased land in the Barossa, named it after himself, and decided to grow a few grapes. In those times, families had to be as self sufficient as possible. None of this popping down to the supermarket for a few spuds and bit of rump steak; you wanted it and you either had to grow it, or barter for it, with your own produce, so old Joseph had a mixed farm. At that time, there wasn’t any such thing as “the pill” or synthetic condoms, so old Joe prolifically produced more than just grapes.
Now young Benno (with a name like that, it looks like the uniquely Australian way of bastardising and changing names started early ) was a pretty smart chip of the old block and wound up being “the main man” of the family. By 1878 he was doing his own thing, and had a radical idea. He went to the Mrs and said, “Hay Mrs S, we have mucho barrels of good port every year; why don’t we put down a barrel every year and leave it for a 100 years?”
Many people think about putting down a few bottles for their kids 21st but I told you Benno was a forward thinker like his old man; why settle for 21 years when you are dealing with top port? Much better to think long term, (they not worried about maximising quarterly stock market yields in those days;) let the great, great, great grandkids have something incredibly special to celebrate their family heritage.
And so a tradition was born. As time went on, it quickly became apparent that one barrel would not be enough, they needed extra material for topping up purposes so three barrels became the norm, at the end of 100 years there is only the one barrel left, the other two have replace thed evaporation from the "master" barrel, no wonder it has a syrupy consistency and concentrated flavour. Like all great traditions, it is continued today, long after the last family member has left the firm.
Benno was a pretty eccentric dude, none of your baseball caps, or even an Akubra for this guy. Like the American Express card of today, legend has it that Benno never left home without “it”; it being a violin and an umbrella. Even stranger, when you consider that he used to get around the place on the white horse, what a sight he would be galloping off to do the weekly shopping.
Benno’s eccentricity didn't end there. Towards the end of the 18th century, there was a severe economic depression and Benno’s philanthropy came to the fore. Workers mightn't have had the unions to stand up for them in those days, but those working for Seppelt didn't need one; old Benno didn't lay off a single worker. Workers decided that a good way of prettying the joint up was to plant a few trees (there were even greenies back then,) and they propagated the date palm seeds from the two trees next to the Homestead. By way of saying thanks, over a period of time, two trees became two thousand. If you visit Seppeltsfield, you will see most of them are still there today.
But Seppelt's is so much more than 100 year old port and date palm trees. Once we met James Godfrey and exchanged pleasantries, we hung a left out of the office, walked past the original Seppelt family home; then we were surrounded by elm trees and a rainforest like garden. We proceeded over the small bridge that spans the creek; up the hill, and finally the padlocks were removed from the huge, old, sliding winery door. If you ever drive past the south side of Seppeltsfield, you will notice a large, (frankly bloody ugly) old structure, painted in some revolting shade of “heritage yellow” that has been built on terraced levels. The design of this building is no accident and was a very practical and cunning bit of design work, especially so when you consider how long ago it was built.
Built way before there were modern fandangled conveniences like electricity, this working winery was designed to take advantage of the technology of the time, gravity, and when available, a bit of steam power and chain drives. Although the winery is no longer used, it could become fully functional again with ease, all the basic structure is there, and only some of the furnishings would be required.
Highland Park High School / Junior College / Career Academy
In many ways, the histories of Detroit and Highland Park – a separate city located within the borders of Detroit –are very similar. Both cities experienced tremendous growth as a result of the automobile industry, and built up their city services to meet demand. Both cities lost population after the auto industry left. And today, both cities are struggling with how to provide the same city services to fewer people with less tax revenue. Budget cuts have led to the closure of most of Highland Park’s fire stations, libraries, and schools.
A three-block stretch of Highland Street running west from Woodward Avenue was one the civic center of the city. Along Highland and nearby streets were five schools, three churches, two hospitals, and the main library, mixed in with ornate high-rise apartment buildings. In this densely populated neighborhood one could be born, baptized, attend nursery school, elementary school, high school, and college, all without going more than three blocks in any direction. Right at the center of the neighborhood is the old Highland Park High School and Junior College, a block-long slab of quarry-faced limestone that played an important role in the development of Highland Park from an obscure village into an industrial boomtown.
Early days in Highland Park
In 1900, Highland Park was just a small village north of Detroit, population 427. Through the early 1900’s, the city grew as Detroit developed north along Woodward Avenue, spurring residential development. In 1907, Henry Ford began to move his automobile production from the Piquette Avenue Plant in Detroit to a new, much larger factory located in Highland Park. The factory opened in 1909; a year later the population of Highland Park had risen to 4,120 as workers quickly built up neighborhoods around the Ford plant.
Like other early school districts, Highland Park Schools taught from Kindergarten to the 8th grade level, at which point young adults were expected to join the workforce. Starting in 1911, high school courses were introduced, with 42 students enrolled in 9th and 10th grade levels at Stevens Elementary, then moved to the new Ferris School when it opened in November. The next year 11th and 12th grades were introduced. Demand for higher education was enough that by 1912, plans were underway to build a dedicated high school building.
Building a new high school
Initially the board of education wanted to build the new high school east of Woodward Avenue, at Farrand and John R Streets, but instead settled a large rectangular parcel of land along Glendale Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenues. Though the high school would take up only a small part of the land, school officials wanted additional space to expand the school if needed. Excavation at the site began as the first high school class of 14 students graduated from Ferris School in 1913. In 1914, a contract for construction of the new building designed by Wells D. Butterfield was awarded for $460,000. It could comfortably seat 1,000 students, though it was believed that it would be quite a few years before the school reached capacity.
The first unit of Highland Park High School was of English type architecture, laid out with a central mass three stories tall, with two end wings linked by classrooms. The east wing had a 1,100-seat auditorium, and the west wing featured a three-story gymnasium and basement swimming pool. In the center were school offices, a library, and recitation rooms. The exterior was done up in quarry-faced gray limestone, with mouldings and detail work of dressed Bedford stone. Inside the school were long hallways of Caen stone and ornamental carved oak. Dedicated classrooms included sewing, carpentry, machine tooling, botany, chemistry, and drawing.
The cornerstone was laid down in October of 1914. Construction on the high school had progressed far enough that by June of 1915, the auditorium was used for graduation as work on the rest of the building continued. The new building was scheduled to formally open in September, but even before then school administrators were facing an unanticipated problem: overcrowding.
Expansion
Between 1910 and 1916, the population of Highland Park grew from 4,100 to 28,000. By 1920 there would be 46,500 residents, a staggering 1,000% increase in population over just 10 years. Workers from across the globe were drawn to Detroit and Highland Park in particular, by the Ford factory and its promise of a $5 a day wage. The assembly line had revolutionized the way that cars were made, and in doing so, made Highland Park the center of the automotive revolution. The school board found itself with hundreds of new students every year, requiring hasty additions to existing school buildings, and the construction of new schools in neighborhoods that were springing up around town.
By the time Highland Park High School opened in September of 1915, enrollment far exceeded expectations, with 850 students signing up. In 1916, just a year after it opened, that number grew to over 1,000 high school students, filling the school to capacity. Plans for a second unit of the high school for 1,500 additional students to be built next to the first were immediately drawn up, with construction beginning in 1917.
Though the second unit of the high school used identical building materials and same English styling as the first, it was laid out differently. Initially the second unit was intended to be a high school for girls and a junior college, and was built with its own separate gymnasium and swimming pool. Instead of a second auditorium, a larger library and additional classrooms were set aside for a junior college program that would share the building with the girl’s high school. The new high school for girls opened in September of 1918, with a total enrollment of 1,525 students. Highland Park Junior College opened in 1918 as well, with 35 students. Course offerings included French, rhetoric, history, chemistry, zoology, and analytic geometry.
Within a few years the two high school programs merged and became co-ed. In 1927, a vocational education building including an automobile repair lab was built to south of the school, connected by an overhead walkway. A further addition to the vocational wing was added in 1938, and the auditorium was renovated in 1939. The high school thrived, with as many as 3,000 students and a host of extracurricular activities, including athletics, homemaking, and a school radio station.
Great Depression, Second World War
Enrollment at Highland Park Junior College steadily increased to around 300 students by the 1920’s, but slowed in the aftermath of the Great Depression. Lack of adequate space and a drop in the number of students to 159 in 1929 nearly led to the closure of college, but the residents of Highland Park voted to keep it open. This paid off in the long run, as after the Second World War ended enrollment skyrocketed from 117 in 1943 to 1,800 in 1947 as veterans returning to Highland Park used the GI bill to pay for college education.
By the 1940’s, population in Highland Park had peaked. Ford had moved auto production out of Highland Park to a new factory in the suburbs in 1927, and moved its headquarters to Dearborn in 1930. The construction of freeways made it easier for people to live outside the city, hastening an outward flight or residents to the suburbs. The racial composition of Highland Park changed as well. By 1968, over half of the 4,488 students were black, while teachers and administrators were mostly white. Sit-ins protesting the lack of diversity in the school administration were frequent in 1969.
The high school moves out
As part of a district-wide modernization program, several older schools in Highland Park were demolished and replaced with newer buildings in the 1950’s and 60’s. A nursery school was built on the south side of the campus in 1950, and an elementary school was built a block south in 1961. Plans for a new, modern high school to be built north on Woodward Avenue were drawn up in the early 1970’s, which would replace the existing school. The junior college (now a community college) would take over the entire building and expand its vocational offerings.
Construction on the new building was already underway when on the evening of March 18th 1975, a large fire broke out in the gymnasium of the old high school. Stacks of rolled-up wrestling mats were set alight as a practical joke, but the blaze quickly spread out of control, causing the roof and floor to cave into the basement swimming pool. The fire burned for over five hours as firefighters from Highland Park, Detroit, and Hamtramck struggled to contain it to just the gymnasium. While smoke and water damage throughout the high school were repaired fairly quickly, repairing the gymnasium was estimated to cost over $600,000. Since the high school was moving out in the near future, athletics were moved over to the community college building, which had its own pool and gymnasium. In 1977, the new Highland Park Community High School on Woodward Avenue opened, and the community college took over the Glendale campus. A temporary roof was built over the shell of the burned-out gymnasium, as administrators struggled with what to do next.
Not wishing to demolish the handsome limestone façade of the gym, the wing sat empty until 1983, when the community college approached Bloomfield Hills landscape architect James Scott about reusing the space. Scott envisioned turning the empty hall into a “multi-purpose concourse” and performing arts space, linking the two units together. Within a few days his ideas went from sketches to planning, and work began a short time later. The swimming pool, into which burning debris from above had been dumped, was covered by a new floor and sealed off. The open area above was a mix of the old and new, retaining the limestone wall of the adjacent gym, but incorporating modern styling throughout. Hexagons were the dominant theme, with planters turning the concourse into a green space. Work on the renovation concluded in 1985. In the years after the space was used for concerts, special events, and art galleries.
Community college struggles
Though enrollment at Highland Park Community College was 2,000 to 3,000 through most of the 1980’s, the college operated at a deficit that had grown to $1.4 million dollars by 1989. In an effort to save money, school administrators cut the LPN and respiratory therapy programs, sparking a four-day sit in strike by students. Though the administration reverses its decision, the financial situation continued to deteriorate, with accusations of rampant misuse of funds. After missing two consecutive annual audits, Michigan Governer John Engler began to withhold state funding for the college, as investigators report that Highland Park Community College “had the worst facilities of any community college in the state.”
In February of 1995, Governor Engler announced that all funding for the college would be stripped from the budget due to chronic financial and academic problems, stating, “Though the college has a long and distinguished tradition, it has become apparent that it is no longer an economically viable institution." Local representatives fought hard to keep the school open, arguing that it was making progress in fixing its financial situation and that the loss of the school would be devastating to Highland Park’s troubled economy. By December of 1995 the college had run out of money, and closed down.
Highland Park Career Academy, Final Years
The immediate impact of the closing of Highland Park Community College was that students were stranded in mid-study, some just a semester away from graduation. Though other nearby colleges tried to accommodate students, many never finished their studies, and walked away from secondary education. While elected officials fought to get funding restored, the school reopened as the Highland Park Career Academy, offering an alternative high school program and vocational training for students and young adults in the fields of nursing, dental hygiene, and auto repair. In 2001, the Ford Motor Company opened an automotive training center in the vocational education building, complete with demonstration cars.
Highland Park City Schools steadily lost students through the 2000’s, with K-12 enrollment falling to 2,700 by 2008 as students were lured away to other nearby school districts. As schools were funded by the state on a per pupil basis, this led to a major revenue shortfall for Highland Park. On January 23rd, 2009 the school board shut down the career academy with no official notification to parents, laying off 36 teachers to close the budget gap. Students were again left in the lurch with the cancellation of their programs, with few options for continuing their studies elsewhere. and leaving students stranded in mid-study. Only seniors were allowed to stay at the school until the end of the school year, with the remaining students to attend night school at Highland Park Community High School. However, the first scheduled night of classes was canceled without explanation. Most students dropped out, and the building closed for good in the summer of 2009.
For over 90 years, the old high school and college had been the center of Highland Park’s education system. By the time the school closed, the neighborhood and city around it had changed considerably. Ferris School and the hospitals closed in the 1990’s, along with the main library in 2002. The nursery school closed permanently in 2005. Most of the apartment buildings along Glendale and Highland had been vacated years ago, leaving large gaps in the fabric of the neighborhood. In the end, the closing of the career academy wound up costing the school district a large amount of funding, as students dropped out or left for other school districts. With just 969 students enrolled in 2012, the state of Michigan declared a financial emergency, and the Highland Park City Schools were taken over by a state emergency financial manager, who converted the district into a privately operated charter school system.
The new charter school operator found that the three remaining school buildings – Highland Park Community High, Ford, and Barber – were in terrible disrepair, and required proximately expensive work to be brought up to standards. In early 2012, school officials started looking at consolidating all of the schools into one K-12 as a way to save money. One alternative discussed was the reopening of the old high school and college building, which was large enough to support all of the students left in the district. The emergency manager visited the closed building in February to see if it would viable to reopen.
Since its closing in 2009, the old high school and college had been frozen in time, with little more than security and routine maintenance being carried out in its empty halls and classrooms. Though fairly secure for a few years, when the state took over the Highland Park City Schools, patrols at the closed building had been discontinued, leaving the school briefly open to scrappers and metal thieves. In the short time between the state takeover and the resumption of security at the school, scrappers had done enough damage to make reopening the school cost prohibitive. The plan was abandoned in favor of letting the three remaining schools stay open.
In the years since, scrappers and vandals have dismantled the old Highland Park High School. When the local Police department set up two non-working squad cars in the back of the building to deter people from entering, the cars were vandalized and removed less than a month later. In October of 2012 the windows of the school were boarded up, but by that time the damage had been done. The property was put up for sale with an asking price of $3 million dollars.
Hi all - it's been a while:
- I've been busy working, my job & photography (yay)
- then Wil and I traveled to Scotland for 2 weeks
- after that I got the (harmless but growing) cyst that was on my head removed. I've got only 3 stitches, but it hurt like a bitch for a few days - which makes me really, really respect people who've had so much more stitches in their heads, honestly. I've had surgery when I was 19, my back, and that scar's a whole of a hell lot bigger, so I feel a bit whiney now, haha.
But it's all good now, they should be coming out soon.
I've got 6 more weeks of my job left, after that I'm going to try my hardest to work at photography 100%. I feel I must give it a shot and give it my all. So I hope to have more time / energy to post here at flickr and at my blog around that time. Just give me a few more weeks to adjust.
The photo is of my lunch. My first attempt at making oat pancakes, because I'm trying to lay off wheat for a couple of weeks; I suspect strongly that wheat's causing a lot of problems for me physically. (Gluten's not the problem.)
I'm not cutting it out 100%, but I'm no longer eating any breads or pastas or other "mains" containing wheat. Fingers crossed that it will help.. I had a lot of oat based food in Scotland and I felt so much better then... :)
© 2011 Karin E. Lips
I appreciate your comments and faves, so much, but please DON'T POST GROUP INVITES WITH OR WITHOUT IMAGES in my comments, I will delete them. No flickriver streams, either. #notyourstream
Thank you!
You can find links to my sites, FB pages, Twitter etc on my flickr profile - please check it out! :)
Alcatraz. San Francisco, California. April/2018
The Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary or United States Penitentiary, Alcatraz Island (often just referred to as Alcatraz or the Rock) was a maximum high-security federal prison on Alcatraz Island, 1.25 miles (2.01 km) off the coast of San Francisco, California, which operated from August 11, 1934, until March 21, 1963.
The main prison building was built in 1910–1912 during its time as a United States Army military prison; Alcatraz had been the site of a citadel since the 1860s. The United States Disciplinary Barracks, Pacific Branch on Alcatraz was acquired by the United States Department of Justice on October 12, 1933, and the island became a prison of the Federal Bureau of Prisons in August 1934 after the buildings were modernized to meet the requirements of a top-notch security prison. Given this high security and the location of Alcatraz in the cold waters and strong currents of San Francisco Bay, the prison operators believed Alcatraz to be escape-proof and America's strongest prison.
Alcatraz was designed to hold prisoners who continuously caused trouble at other federal prisons. One of the world's most notorious and best known prisons over the years, Alcatraz housed some 1,576 of America's most ruthless criminals including Al Capone, Robert Franklin Stroud(the "Birdman of Alcatraz"), George "Machine Gun" Kelly, Bumpy Johnson, Rafael Cancel Miranda, Mickey Cohen, Arthur R. "Doc" Barker, Whitey Bulger, and Alvin "Creepy" Karpis (who served more time at Alcatraz than any other inmate). It also provided housing for the Bureau of Prisons' staff and their families. A total of 36 prisoners made 14 escape attempts during the 29 years of the prison's existence, the most notable of which were the violent escape attempt of May 1946 known as the "Battle of Alcatraz", and the arguably successful "Escape from Alcatraz" by Frank Morris, John Anglin, and Clarence Anglin in June 1962 in one of the most intricate escapes ever devised. Faced with high maintenance costs and a poor reputation, Alcatraz closed on March 21, 1963.
The three-story cellhouse included the main four blocks of the jail, A-block, B-block, C-block, and D-block, the warden's office, visitation room, the library, and the barber shop. The prison cells typically measured 9 feet (2.7 m) by 5 feet (1.5 m) and 7 feet (2.1 m) high. The cells were primitive and lacked privacy, with a bed, a desk and a washbasin and toilet on the back wall, with few furnishings except a blanket. African-Americans were segregated from the rest in cell designation due to racial abuse being prevalent. D-Block housed the worst inmates and five cells at the end of it were designated as "The Hole", where badly behaving prisoners would be sent for periods of punishment, often brutally so. The dining hall and kitchen lay off the main building in an extended part where both prisoners and staff would eat three meals a day together. The Alcatraz Hospital was above the dining hall.
Corridors of the prison were named after major American streets such as Broadway and Michigan Avenue. Working at the prison was considered a privilege for inmates and many of the better inmates were employed in the Model Industries Building and New Industries Building during the day, actively involved in providing for the military in jobs such as sewing and woodwork and performing various maintenance and laundry chores.
Today the penitentiary is a public museum and one of San Francisco's major tourist attractions, attracting some 1.5 million visitors annually. The former prison is now operated by the National Park Service's Golden Gate National Recreation Area, and the badly eroded buildings of the former prison have been subject to restoration works in recent times and maintained
Source: Wikipedia
Alcatraz é uma ilha localizada no meio da Baía de São Francisco na Califórnia, Estados Unidos. Inicialmente foi utilizada como base militar, e somente mais tarde foi convertida em uma prisão de segurança máxima. Atualmente, é um ponto turístico operado pelo National Park Service junto com a Área de Recreação Golden Gate.
Alcatraz foi uma base militar de 1850 a 1930. Posteriormente, foi adquirida pelo Departamento de Justiça dos Estados Unidos, em 12 de outubro de 1933, quando sofreu a conversão. Em 1 de janeiro de 1934, foi re-inaugurada como uma Prisão Federal. Durante seus 29 anos de existência, a prisão alojou alguns dos maiores criminosos norte-americanos. A prisão foi fechada em 21 de março de 1963, menos de um ano após a primeira fuga realizada na prisão. O governo alegou que o complexo foi fechado devido ao seu alto custo de manutenção, e ao fato de que não garantia uma total segurança, em relação às prisões mais modernas. Era mais fácil e mais barato construir uma prisão nova do que melhorar as condições de Alcatraz.
Em 1969, um grupo de nativos norte-americanos criou um movimento que ocupou a ilha, baseando-se num tratado federal de 1868, que permitia que os nativos utilizassem todo o território que o governo não usava ativamente . Após quase dois anos de ocupação, o governo os retirou da ilha.
Durante 29 anos, a prisão de Alcatraz nunca registrou oficialmente fugas bem sucedidas de prisioneiros. Em todas as tentativas, os fugitivos foram mortos ou afogavam-se nas águas da baia de São Francisco. Três fugitivos, Frank Morris, e os irmãos John e Clarence Anglin, desapareceram das sua celas em 11 de Junho de 1962. Somente algumas provas foram encontradas, e elas levam a crer que os prisioneiros morreram, mas, oficialmente, ainda estão listados como desaparecidos e provavelmente afogados. Em 1979 foi feito um filme sobre essa fuga com Clint Eastwood chamado Escape from Alcatraz. A história chegou a ser testada no programa "Mythbusters-Os Caçadores de Mitos" no episódio Fuga de Alcatraz.
Em outubro de 2015 documentário do canal "History" foi divulgado, onde foram apresentadas novas evidências que indicam que os irmãos Anglin não somente sobreviveram, como mantiveram contato com sua família e teriam fugido para o Brasil.
Fonte: Wikipedia
HI Great story- just a couple of things.
Seppeltsfield is now back in private hands- the Seppeltsfield Estate Trust (Kilikanoon\'s owners and Warren Randall) acquired it from Foster\'s
in 2007. Also happy to say the the magnificent 1888 Gravity Flow winery is back in full operation!
Nathan Waks (proprietor, executive director)
Seppeltsfield is more than just a place that is steeped in over 150 years of Australian wine history; this is a unique, living, breathing museum and probably the most historically important wine site in Australia
. The owners, Penfolds and then subsequently Southcorp are to be commended for not only leaving this site alone, but for wearing the cost of maintaining it. Since our visit, readers will know that Fosters now owns the operation. Reliable sources have informed me that no sooner was the ink dry on the deal the bean counters went to work seeing how they can best utilise this site. It is crucial that these accountants and business analysis not just look at a return on investment; if they have no social conscience and desecrate what is a national wine shrine that can never be replaced, they deserve, as a company, and as individuals to rot in hell.
Strong words indeed and this is no rant. Whilst many people will have tasted many of the fine Seppelt fortified wines, there is so much more to this place than what is found in the bottle. Yes, the bottles contents can be anything from good to the ultimate sensual wine experience, but it is what is behind the bottle that makes it so special and if Fosters screw with that, they will not only have raped the product, Fosters will have pillaged and plundered a unique part of our wine heritage that can never be replaced.
Our appointment was with the God Father and custodian of this unique enterprise, James Godfrey who is also known as the fortified wine maker but lets go back to the beginning.
Hop in the time machine and head back to 1851. It took forward thinking and guts to leave your homeland and venture off into the unknown in those times; even if things were not exactly rosy in the “old country”. Joseph Seppelt, an immigrant from Poland, was just such a person; he purchased land in the Barossa, named it after himself, and decided to grow a few grapes. In those times, families had to be as self sufficient as possible. None of this popping down to the supermarket for a few spuds and bit of rump steak; you wanted it and you either had to grow it, or barter for it, with your own produce, so old Joseph had a mixed farm. At that time, there wasn’t any such thing as “the pill” or synthetic condoms, so old Joe prolifically produced more than just grapes.
Now young Benno (with a name like that, it looks like the uniquely Australian way of bastardising and changing names started early ) was a pretty smart chip of the old block and wound up being “the main man” of the family. By 1878 he was doing his own thing, and had a radical idea. He went to the Mrs and said, “Hay Mrs S, we have mucho barrels of good port every year; why don’t we put down a barrel every year and leave it for a 100 years?”
Many people think about putting down a few bottles for their kids 21st but I told you Benno was a forward thinker like his old man; why settle for 21 years when you are dealing with top port? Much better to think long term, (they not worried about maximising quarterly stock market yields in those days;) let the great, great, great grandkids have something incredibly special to celebrate their family heritage.
And so a tradition was born. As time went on, it quickly became apparent that one barrel would not be enough, they needed extra material for topping up purposes so three barrels became the norm, at the end of 100 years there is only the one barrel left, the other two have replace thed evaporation from the "master" barrel, no wonder it has a syrupy consistency and concentrated flavour. Like all great traditions, it is continued today, long after the last family member has left the firm.
Benno was a pretty eccentric dude, none of your baseball caps, or even an Akubra for this guy. Like the American Express card of today, legend has it that Benno never left home without “it”; it being a violin and an umbrella. Even stranger, when you consider that he used to get around the place on the white horse, what a sight he would be galloping off to do the weekly shopping.
Benno’s eccentricity didn't end there. Towards the end of the 18th century, there was a severe economic depression and Benno’s philanthropy came to the fore. Workers mightn't have had the unions to stand up for them in those days, but those working for Seppelt didn't need one; old Benno didn't lay off a single worker. Workers decided that a good way of prettying the joint up was to plant a few trees (there were even greenies back then,) and they propagated the date palm seeds from the two trees next to the Homestead. By way of saying thanks, over a period of time, two trees became two thousand. If you visit Seppeltsfield, you will see most of them are still there today.
But Seppelt's is so much more than 100 year old port and date palm trees. Once we met James Godfrey and exchanged pleasantries, we hung a left out of the office, walked past the original Seppelt family home; then we were surrounded by elm trees and a rainforest like garden. We proceeded over the small bridge that spans the creek; up the hill, and finally the padlocks were removed from the huge, old, sliding winery door. If you ever drive past the south side of Seppeltsfield, you will notice a large, (frankly bloody ugly) old structure, painted in some revolting shade of “heritage yellow” that has been built on terraced levels. The design of this building is no accident and was a very practical and cunning bit of design work, especially so when you consider how long ago it was built.
Built way before there were modern fandangled conveniences like electricity, this working winery was designed to take advantage of the technology of the time, gravity, and when available, a bit of steam power and chain drives. Although the winery is no longer used, it could become fully functional again with ease, all the basic structure is there, and only some of the furnishings would be required.
Pictures from the Vanarama National League North clash at Broadhurst Park between FC United of Manchester and Darlington.
The game finished in a hard fought 3-2 victory for Darlo. who were 2-0 up inside 27 minutes.
Hardy opended the scoring for the visitors latching onto a superb ball from Thompson before slipping the ball past the advancing keeper.
Quakers went two-up on 27 minutes but it should have been more as thye spurned a host of chnaces. Liam Marrs’ free-kick was headed down by Mark Beck for Hardy to lay off in turn for Thompson to fire across Frith.
Against the run of play United pulled a goal back on 42 minutes when Jason Gilchrist spotted Jameson off his line, and chipped the ball over the keeper followed by an equaliser on 66 minutes from Thomson.
A draw looked on the cards however with 10 minutes left subsititute Cartman cleverly found Purewal with an overhead kick for his fellow sub to charge up the left. His ball to the far post was blocked, but it came back out to Cartman, who struck a low shot that took a deflection and beat the keeper to make it 3-2. Darlo were able to weather a late storm to secure all 3 points!
Highland Park High School / Junior College / Career Academy
In many ways, the histories of Detroit and Highland Park – a separate city located within the borders of Detroit –are very similar. Both cities experienced tremendous growth as a result of the automobile industry, and built up their city services to meet demand. Both cities lost population after the auto industry left. And today, both cities are struggling with how to provide the same city services to fewer people with less tax revenue. Budget cuts have led to the closure of most of Highland Park’s fire stations, libraries, and schools.
A three-block stretch of Highland Street running west from Woodward Avenue was one the civic center of the city. Along Highland and nearby streets were five schools, three churches, two hospitals, and the main library, mixed in with ornate high-rise apartment buildings. In this densely populated neighborhood one could be born, baptized, attend nursery school, elementary school, high school, and college, all without going more than three blocks in any direction. Right at the center of the neighborhood is the old Highland Park High School and Junior College, a block-long slab of quarry-faced limestone that played an important role in the development of Highland Park from an obscure village into an industrial boomtown.
Early days in Highland Park
In 1900, Highland Park was just a small village north of Detroit, population 427. Through the early 1900’s, the city grew as Detroit developed north along Woodward Avenue, spurring residential development. In 1907, Henry Ford began to move his automobile production from the Piquette Avenue Plant in Detroit to a new, much larger factory located in Highland Park. The factory opened in 1909; a year later the population of Highland Park had risen to 4,120 as workers quickly built up neighborhoods around the Ford plant.
Like other early school districts, Highland Park Schools taught from Kindergarten to the 8th grade level, at which point young adults were expected to join the workforce. Starting in 1911, high school courses were introduced, with 42 students enrolled in 9th and 10th grade levels at Stevens Elementary, then moved to the new Ferris School when it opened in November. The next year 11th and 12th grades were introduced. Demand for higher education was enough that by 1912, plans were underway to build a dedicated high school building.
Building a new high school
Initially the board of education wanted to build the new high school east of Woodward Avenue, at Farrand and John R Streets, but instead settled a large rectangular parcel of land along Glendale Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenues. Though the high school would take up only a small part of the land, school officials wanted additional space to expand the school if needed. Excavation at the site began as the first high school class of 14 students graduated from Ferris School in 1913. In 1914, a contract for construction of the new building designed by Wells D. Butterfield was awarded for $460,000. It could comfortably seat 1,000 students, though it was believed that it would be quite a few years before the school reached capacity.
The first unit of Highland Park High School was of English type architecture, laid out with a central mass three stories tall, with two end wings linked by classrooms. The east wing had a 1,100-seat auditorium, and the west wing featured a three-story gymnasium and basement swimming pool. In the center were school offices, a library, and recitation rooms. The exterior was done up in quarry-faced gray limestone, with mouldings and detail work of dressed Bedford stone. Inside the school were long hallways of Caen stone and ornamental carved oak. Dedicated classrooms included sewing, carpentry, machine tooling, botany, chemistry, and drawing.
The cornerstone was laid down in October of 1914. Construction on the high school had progressed far enough that by June of 1915, the auditorium was used for graduation as work on the rest of the building continued. The new building was scheduled to formally open in September, but even before then school administrators were facing an unanticipated problem: overcrowding.
Expansion
Between 1910 and 1916, the population of Highland Park grew from 4,100 to 28,000. By 1920 there would be 46,500 residents, a staggering 1,000% increase in population over just 10 years. Workers from across the globe were drawn to Detroit and Highland Park in particular, by the Ford factory and its promise of a $5 a day wage. The assembly line had revolutionized the way that cars were made, and in doing so, made Highland Park the center of the automotive revolution. The school board found itself with hundreds of new students every year, requiring hasty additions to existing school buildings, and the construction of new schools in neighborhoods that were springing up around town.
By the time Highland Park High School opened in September of 1915, enrollment far exceeded expectations, with 850 students signing up. In 1916, just a year after it opened, that number grew to over 1,000 high school students, filling the school to capacity. Plans for a second unit of the high school for 1,500 additional students to be built next to the first were immediately drawn up, with construction beginning in 1917.
Though the second unit of the high school used identical building materials and same English styling as the first, it was laid out differently. Initially the second unit was intended to be a high school for girls and a junior college, and was built with its own separate gymnasium and swimming pool. Instead of a second auditorium, a larger library and additional classrooms were set aside for a junior college program that would share the building with the girl’s high school. The new high school for girls opened in September of 1918, with a total enrollment of 1,525 students. Highland Park Junior College opened in 1918 as well, with 35 students. Course offerings included French, rhetoric, history, chemistry, zoology, and analytic geometry.
Within a few years the two high school programs merged and became co-ed. In 1927, a vocational education building including an automobile repair lab was built to south of the school, connected by an overhead walkway. A further addition to the vocational wing was added in 1938, and the auditorium was renovated in 1939. The high school thrived, with as many as 3,000 students and a host of extracurricular activities, including athletics, homemaking, and a school radio station.
Great Depression, Second World War
Enrollment at Highland Park Junior College steadily increased to around 300 students by the 1920’s, but slowed in the aftermath of the Great Depression. Lack of adequate space and a drop in the number of students to 159 in 1929 nearly led to the closure of college, but the residents of Highland Park voted to keep it open. This paid off in the long run, as after the Second World War ended enrollment skyrocketed from 117 in 1943 to 1,800 in 1947 as veterans returning to Highland Park used the GI bill to pay for college education.
By the 1940’s, population in Highland Park had peaked. Ford had moved auto production out of Highland Park to a new factory in the suburbs in 1927, and moved its headquarters to Dearborn in 1930. The construction of freeways made it easier for people to live outside the city, hastening an outward flight or residents to the suburbs. The racial composition of Highland Park changed as well. By 1968, over half of the 4,488 students were black, while teachers and administrators were mostly white. Sit-ins protesting the lack of diversity in the school administration were frequent in 1969.
The high school moves out
As part of a district-wide modernization program, several older schools in Highland Park were demolished and replaced with newer buildings in the 1950’s and 60’s. A nursery school was built on the south side of the campus in 1950, and an elementary school was built a block south in 1961. Plans for a new, modern high school to be built north on Woodward Avenue were drawn up in the early 1970’s, which would replace the existing school. The junior college (now a community college) would take over the entire building and expand its vocational offerings.
Construction on the new building was already underway when on the evening of March 18th 1975, a large fire broke out in the gymnasium of the old high school. Stacks of rolled-up wrestling mats were set alight as a practical joke, but the blaze quickly spread out of control, causing the roof and floor to cave into the basement swimming pool. The fire burned for over five hours as firefighters from Highland Park, Detroit, and Hamtramck struggled to contain it to just the gymnasium. While smoke and water damage throughout the high school were repaired fairly quickly, repairing the gymnasium was estimated to cost over $600,000. Since the high school was moving out in the near future, athletics were moved over to the community college building, which had its own pool and gymnasium. In 1977, the new Highland Park Community High School on Woodward Avenue opened, and the community college took over the Glendale campus. A temporary roof was built over the shell of the burned-out gymnasium, as administrators struggled with what to do next.
Not wishing to demolish the handsome limestone façade of the gym, the wing sat empty until 1983, when the community college approached Bloomfield Hills landscape architect James Scott about reusing the space. Scott envisioned turning the empty hall into a “multi-purpose concourse” and performing arts space, linking the two units together. Within a few days his ideas went from sketches to planning, and work began a short time later. The swimming pool, into which burning debris from above had been dumped, was covered by a new floor and sealed off. The open area above was a mix of the old and new, retaining the limestone wall of the adjacent gym, but incorporating modern styling throughout. Hexagons were the dominant theme, with planters turning the concourse into a green space. Work on the renovation concluded in 1985. In the years after the space was used for concerts, special events, and art galleries.
Community college struggles
Though enrollment at Highland Park Community College was 2,000 to 3,000 through most of the 1980’s, the college operated at a deficit that had grown to $1.4 million dollars by 1989. In an effort to save money, school administrators cut the LPN and respiratory therapy programs, sparking a four-day sit in strike by students. Though the administration reverses its decision, the financial situation continued to deteriorate, with accusations of rampant misuse of funds. After missing two consecutive annual audits, Michigan Governer John Engler began to withhold state funding for the college, as investigators report that Highland Park Community College “had the worst facilities of any community college in the state.”
In February of 1995, Governor Engler announced that all funding for the college would be stripped from the budget due to chronic financial and academic problems, stating, “Though the college has a long and distinguished tradition, it has become apparent that it is no longer an economically viable institution." Local representatives fought hard to keep the school open, arguing that it was making progress in fixing its financial situation and that the loss of the school would be devastating to Highland Park’s troubled economy. By December of 1995 the college had run out of money, and closed down.
Highland Park Career Academy, Final Years
The immediate impact of the closing of Highland Park Community College was that students were stranded in mid-study, some just a semester away from graduation. Though other nearby colleges tried to accommodate students, many never finished their studies, and walked away from secondary education. While elected officials fought to get funding restored, the school reopened as the Highland Park Career Academy, offering an alternative high school program and vocational training for students and young adults in the fields of nursing, dental hygiene, and auto repair. In 2001, the Ford Motor Company opened an automotive training center in the vocational education building, complete with demonstration cars.
Highland Park City Schools steadily lost students through the 2000’s, with K-12 enrollment falling to 2,700 by 2008 as students were lured away to other nearby school districts. As schools were funded by the state on a per pupil basis, this led to a major revenue shortfall for Highland Park. On January 23rd, 2009 the school board shut down the career academy with no official notification to parents, laying off 36 teachers to close the budget gap. Students were again left in the lurch with the cancellation of their programs, with few options for continuing their studies elsewhere. and leaving students stranded in mid-study. Only seniors were allowed to stay at the school until the end of the school year, with the remaining students to attend night school at Highland Park Community High School. However, the first scheduled night of classes was canceled without explanation. Most students dropped out, and the building closed for good in the summer of 2009.
For over 90 years, the old high school and college had been the center of Highland Park’s education system. By the time the school closed, the neighborhood and city around it had changed considerably. Ferris School and the hospitals closed in the 1990’s, along with the main library in 2002. The nursery school closed permanently in 2005. Most of the apartment buildings along Glendale and Highland had been vacated years ago, leaving large gaps in the fabric of the neighborhood. In the end, the closing of the career academy wound up costing the school district a large amount of funding, as students dropped out or left for other school districts. With just 969 students enrolled in 2012, the state of Michigan declared a financial emergency, and the Highland Park City Schools were taken over by a state emergency financial manager, who converted the district into a privately operated charter school system.
The new charter school operator found that the three remaining school buildings – Highland Park Community High, Ford, and Barber – were in terrible disrepair, and required proximately expensive work to be brought up to standards. In early 2012, school officials started looking at consolidating all of the schools into one K-12 as a way to save money. One alternative discussed was the reopening of the old high school and college building, which was large enough to support all of the students left in the district. The emergency manager visited the closed building in February to see if it would viable to reopen.
Since its closing in 2009, the old high school and college had been frozen in time, with little more than security and routine maintenance being carried out in its empty halls and classrooms. Though fairly secure for a few years, when the state took over the Highland Park City Schools, patrols at the closed building had been discontinued, leaving the school briefly open to scrappers and metal thieves. In the short time between the state takeover and the resumption of security at the school, scrappers had done enough damage to make reopening the school cost prohibitive. The plan was abandoned in favor of letting the three remaining schools stay open.
In the years since, scrappers and vandals have dismantled the old Highland Park High School. When the local Police department set up two non-working squad cars in the back of the building to deter people from entering, the cars were vandalized and removed less than a month later. In October of 2012 the windows of the school were boarded up, but by that time the damage had been done. The property was put up for sale with an asking price of $3 million dollars.
Highland Park High School / Junior College / Career Academy
In many ways, the histories of Detroit and Highland Park – a separate city located within the borders of Detroit –are very similar. Both cities experienced tremendous growth as a result of the automobile industry, and built up their city services to meet demand. Both cities lost population after the auto industry left. And today, both cities are struggling with how to provide the same city services to fewer people with less tax revenue. Budget cuts have led to the closure of most of Highland Park’s fire stations, libraries, and schools.
A three-block stretch of Highland Street running west from Woodward Avenue was one the civic center of the city. Along Highland and nearby streets were five schools, three churches, two hospitals, and the main library, mixed in with ornate high-rise apartment buildings. In this densely populated neighborhood one could be born, baptized, attend nursery school, elementary school, high school, and college, all without going more than three blocks in any direction. Right at the center of the neighborhood is the old Highland Park High School and Junior College, a block-long slab of quarry-faced limestone that played an important role in the development of Highland Park from an obscure village into an industrial boomtown.
Early days in Highland Park
In 1900, Highland Park was just a small village north of Detroit, population 427. Through the early 1900’s, the city grew as Detroit developed north along Woodward Avenue, spurring residential development. In 1907, Henry Ford began to move his automobile production from the Piquette Avenue Plant in Detroit to a new, much larger factory located in Highland Park. The factory opened in 1909; a year later the population of Highland Park had risen to 4,120 as workers quickly built up neighborhoods around the Ford plant.
Like other early school districts, Highland Park Schools taught from Kindergarten to the 8th grade level, at which point young adults were expected to join the workforce. Starting in 1911, high school courses were introduced, with 42 students enrolled in 9th and 10th grade levels at Stevens Elementary, then moved to the new Ferris School when it opened in November. The next year 11th and 12th grades were introduced. Demand for higher education was enough that by 1912, plans were underway to build a dedicated high school building.
Building a new high school
Initially the board of education wanted to build the new high school east of Woodward Avenue, at Farrand and John R Streets, but instead settled a large rectangular parcel of land along Glendale Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenues. Though the high school would take up only a small part of the land, school officials wanted additional space to expand the school if needed. Excavation at the site began as the first high school class of 14 students graduated from Ferris School in 1913. In 1914, a contract for construction of the new building designed by Wells D. Butterfield was awarded for $460,000. It could comfortably seat 1,000 students, though it was believed that it would be quite a few years before the school reached capacity.
The first unit of Highland Park High School was of English type architecture, laid out with a central mass three stories tall, with two end wings linked by classrooms. The east wing had a 1,100-seat auditorium, and the west wing featured a three-story gymnasium and basement swimming pool. In the center were school offices, a library, and recitation rooms. The exterior was done up in quarry-faced gray limestone, with mouldings and detail work of dressed Bedford stone. Inside the school were long hallways of Caen stone and ornamental carved oak. Dedicated classrooms included sewing, carpentry, machine tooling, botany, chemistry, and drawing.
The cornerstone was laid down in October of 1914. Construction on the high school had progressed far enough that by June of 1915, the auditorium was used for graduation as work on the rest of the building continued. The new building was scheduled to formally open in September, but even before then school administrators were facing an unanticipated problem: overcrowding.
Expansion
Between 1910 and 1916, the population of Highland Park grew from 4,100 to 28,000. By 1920 there would be 46,500 residents, a staggering 1,000% increase in population over just 10 years. Workers from across the globe were drawn to Detroit and Highland Park in particular, by the Ford factory and its promise of a $5 a day wage. The assembly line had revolutionized the way that cars were made, and in doing so, made Highland Park the center of the automotive revolution. The school board found itself with hundreds of new students every year, requiring hasty additions to existing school buildings, and the construction of new schools in neighborhoods that were springing up around town.
By the time Highland Park High School opened in September of 1915, enrollment far exceeded expectations, with 850 students signing up. In 1916, just a year after it opened, that number grew to over 1,000 high school students, filling the school to capacity. Plans for a second unit of the high school for 1,500 additional students to be built next to the first were immediately drawn up, with construction beginning in 1917.
Though the second unit of the high school used identical building materials and same English styling as the first, it was laid out differently. Initially the second unit was intended to be a high school for girls and a junior college, and was built with its own separate gymnasium and swimming pool. Instead of a second auditorium, a larger library and additional classrooms were set aside for a junior college program that would share the building with the girl’s high school. The new high school for girls opened in September of 1918, with a total enrollment of 1,525 students. Highland Park Junior College opened in 1918 as well, with 35 students. Course offerings included French, rhetoric, history, chemistry, zoology, and analytic geometry.
Within a few years the two high school programs merged and became co-ed. In 1927, a vocational education building including an automobile repair lab was built to south of the school, connected by an overhead walkway. A further addition to the vocational wing was added in 1938, and the auditorium was renovated in 1939. The high school thrived, with as many as 3,000 students and a host of extracurricular activities, including athletics, homemaking, and a school radio station.
Great Depression, Second World War
Enrollment at Highland Park Junior College steadily increased to around 300 students by the 1920’s, but slowed in the aftermath of the Great Depression. Lack of adequate space and a drop in the number of students to 159 in 1929 nearly led to the closure of college, but the residents of Highland Park voted to keep it open. This paid off in the long run, as after the Second World War ended enrollment skyrocketed from 117 in 1943 to 1,800 in 1947 as veterans returning to Highland Park used the GI bill to pay for college education.
By the 1940’s, population in Highland Park had peaked. Ford had moved auto production out of Highland Park to a new factory in the suburbs in 1927, and moved its headquarters to Dearborn in 1930. The construction of freeways made it easier for people to live outside the city, hastening an outward flight or residents to the suburbs. The racial composition of Highland Park changed as well. By 1968, over half of the 4,488 students were black, while teachers and administrators were mostly white. Sit-ins protesting the lack of diversity in the school administration were frequent in 1969.
The high school moves out
As part of a district-wide modernization program, several older schools in Highland Park were demolished and replaced with newer buildings in the 1950’s and 60’s. A nursery school was built on the south side of the campus in 1950, and an elementary school was built a block south in 1961. Plans for a new, modern high school to be built north on Woodward Avenue were drawn up in the early 1970’s, which would replace the existing school. The junior college (now a community college) would take over the entire building and expand its vocational offerings.
Construction on the new building was already underway when on the evening of March 18th 1975, a large fire broke out in the gymnasium of the old high school. Stacks of rolled-up wrestling mats were set alight as a practical joke, but the blaze quickly spread out of control, causing the roof and floor to cave into the basement swimming pool. The fire burned for over five hours as firefighters from Highland Park, Detroit, and Hamtramck struggled to contain it to just the gymnasium. While smoke and water damage throughout the high school were repaired fairly quickly, repairing the gymnasium was estimated to cost over $600,000. Since the high school was moving out in the near future, athletics were moved over to the community college building, which had its own pool and gymnasium. In 1977, the new Highland Park Community High School on Woodward Avenue opened, and the community college took over the Glendale campus. A temporary roof was built over the shell of the burned-out gymnasium, as administrators struggled with what to do next.
Not wishing to demolish the handsome limestone façade of the gym, the wing sat empty until 1983, when the community college approached Bloomfield Hills landscape architect James Scott about reusing the space. Scott envisioned turning the empty hall into a “multi-purpose concourse” and performing arts space, linking the two units together. Within a few days his ideas went from sketches to planning, and work began a short time later. The swimming pool, into which burning debris from above had been dumped, was covered by a new floor and sealed off. The open area above was a mix of the old and new, retaining the limestone wall of the adjacent gym, but incorporating modern styling throughout. Hexagons were the dominant theme, with planters turning the concourse into a green space. Work on the renovation concluded in 1985. In the years after the space was used for concerts, special events, and art galleries.
Community college struggles
Though enrollment at Highland Park Community College was 2,000 to 3,000 through most of the 1980’s, the college operated at a deficit that had grown to $1.4 million dollars by 1989. In an effort to save money, school administrators cut the LPN and respiratory therapy programs, sparking a four-day sit in strike by students. Though the administration reverses its decision, the financial situation continued to deteriorate, with accusations of rampant misuse of funds. After missing two consecutive annual audits, Michigan Governer John Engler began to withhold state funding for the college, as investigators report that Highland Park Community College “had the worst facilities of any community college in the state.”
In February of 1995, Governor Engler announced that all funding for the college would be stripped from the budget due to chronic financial and academic problems, stating, “Though the college has a long and distinguished tradition, it has become apparent that it is no longer an economically viable institution." Local representatives fought hard to keep the school open, arguing that it was making progress in fixing its financial situation and that the loss of the school would be devastating to Highland Park’s troubled economy. By December of 1995 the college had run out of money, and closed down.
Highland Park Career Academy, Final Years
The immediate impact of the closing of Highland Park Community College was that students were stranded in mid-study, some just a semester away from graduation. Though other nearby colleges tried to accommodate students, many never finished their studies, and walked away from secondary education. While elected officials fought to get funding restored, the school reopened as the Highland Park Career Academy, offering an alternative high school program and vocational training for students and young adults in the fields of nursing, dental hygiene, and auto repair. In 2001, the Ford Motor Company opened an automotive training center in the vocational education building, complete with demonstration cars.
Highland Park City Schools steadily lost students through the 2000’s, with K-12 enrollment falling to 2,700 by 2008 as students were lured away to other nearby school districts. As schools were funded by the state on a per pupil basis, this led to a major revenue shortfall for Highland Park. On January 23rd, 2009 the school board shut down the career academy with no official notification to parents, laying off 36 teachers to close the budget gap. Students were again left in the lurch with the cancellation of their programs, with few options for continuing their studies elsewhere. and leaving students stranded in mid-study. Only seniors were allowed to stay at the school until the end of the school year, with the remaining students to attend night school at Highland Park Community High School. However, the first scheduled night of classes was canceled without explanation. Most students dropped out, and the building closed for good in the summer of 2009.
For over 90 years, the old high school and college had been the center of Highland Park’s education system. By the time the school closed, the neighborhood and city around it had changed considerably. Ferris School and the hospitals closed in the 1990’s, along with the main library in 2002. The nursery school closed permanently in 2005. Most of the apartment buildings along Glendale and Highland had been vacated years ago, leaving large gaps in the fabric of the neighborhood. In the end, the closing of the career academy wound up costing the school district a large amount of funding, as students dropped out or left for other school districts. With just 969 students enrolled in 2012, the state of Michigan declared a financial emergency, and the Highland Park City Schools were taken over by a state emergency financial manager, who converted the district into a privately operated charter school system.
The new charter school operator found that the three remaining school buildings – Highland Park Community High, Ford, and Barber – were in terrible disrepair, and required proximately expensive work to be brought up to standards. In early 2012, school officials started looking at consolidating all of the schools into one K-12 as a way to save money. One alternative discussed was the reopening of the old high school and college building, which was large enough to support all of the students left in the district. The emergency manager visited the closed building in February to see if it would viable to reopen.
Since its closing in 2009, the old high school and college had been frozen in time, with little more than security and routine maintenance being carried out in its empty halls and classrooms. Though fairly secure for a few years, when the state took over the Highland Park City Schools, patrols at the closed building had been discontinued, leaving the school briefly open to scrappers and metal thieves. In the short time between the state takeover and the resumption of security at the school, scrappers had done enough damage to make reopening the school cost prohibitive. The plan was abandoned in favor of letting the three remaining schools stay open.
In the years since, scrappers and vandals have dismantled the old Highland Park High School. When the local Police department set up two non-working squad cars in the back of the building to deter people from entering, the cars were vandalized and removed less than a month later. In October of 2012 the windows of the school were boarded up, but by that time the damage had been done. The property was put up for sale with an asking price of $3 million dollars.
Highland Park High School / Junior College / Career Academy
In many ways, the histories of Detroit and Highland Park – a separate city located within the borders of Detroit –are very similar. Both cities experienced tremendous growth as a result of the automobile industry, and built up their city services to meet demand. Both cities lost population after the auto industry left. And today, both cities are struggling with how to provide the same city services to fewer people with less tax revenue. Budget cuts have led to the closure of most of Highland Park’s fire stations, libraries, and schools.
A three-block stretch of Highland Street running west from Woodward Avenue was one the civic center of the city. Along Highland and nearby streets were five schools, three churches, two hospitals, and the main library, mixed in with ornate high-rise apartment buildings. In this densely populated neighborhood one could be born, baptized, attend nursery school, elementary school, high school, and college, all without going more than three blocks in any direction. Right at the center of the neighborhood is the old Highland Park High School and Junior College, a block-long slab of quarry-faced limestone that played an important role in the development of Highland Park from an obscure village into an industrial boomtown.
Early days in Highland Park
In 1900, Highland Park was just a small village north of Detroit, population 427. Through the early 1900’s, the city grew as Detroit developed north along Woodward Avenue, spurring residential development. In 1907, Henry Ford began to move his automobile production from the Piquette Avenue Plant in Detroit to a new, much larger factory located in Highland Park. The factory opened in 1909; a year later the population of Highland Park had risen to 4,120 as workers quickly built up neighborhoods around the Ford plant.
Like other early school districts, Highland Park Schools taught from Kindergarten to the 8th grade level, at which point young adults were expected to join the workforce. Starting in 1911, high school courses were introduced, with 42 students enrolled in 9th and 10th grade levels at Stevens Elementary, then moved to the new Ferris School when it opened in November. The next year 11th and 12th grades were introduced. Demand for higher education was enough that by 1912, plans were underway to build a dedicated high school building.
Building a new high school
Initially the board of education wanted to build the new high school east of Woodward Avenue, at Farrand and John R Streets, but instead settled a large rectangular parcel of land along Glendale Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenues. Though the high school would take up only a small part of the land, school officials wanted additional space to expand the school if needed. Excavation at the site began as the first high school class of 14 students graduated from Ferris School in 1913. In 1914, a contract for construction of the new building designed by Wells D. Butterfield was awarded for $460,000. It could comfortably seat 1,000 students, though it was believed that it would be quite a few years before the school reached capacity.
The first unit of Highland Park High School was of English type architecture, laid out with a central mass three stories tall, with two end wings linked by classrooms. The east wing had a 1,100-seat auditorium, and the west wing featured a three-story gymnasium and basement swimming pool. In the center were school offices, a library, and recitation rooms. The exterior was done up in quarry-faced gray limestone, with mouldings and detail work of dressed Bedford stone. Inside the school were long hallways of Caen stone and ornamental carved oak. Dedicated classrooms included sewing, carpentry, machine tooling, botany, chemistry, and drawing.
The cornerstone was laid down in October of 1914. Construction on the high school had progressed far enough that by June of 1915, the auditorium was used for graduation as work on the rest of the building continued. The new building was scheduled to formally open in September, but even before then school administrators were facing an unanticipated problem: overcrowding.
Expansion
Between 1910 and 1916, the population of Highland Park grew from 4,100 to 28,000. By 1920 there would be 46,500 residents, a staggering 1,000% increase in population over just 10 years. Workers from across the globe were drawn to Detroit and Highland Park in particular, by the Ford factory and its promise of a $5 a day wage. The assembly line had revolutionized the way that cars were made, and in doing so, made Highland Park the center of the automotive revolution. The school board found itself with hundreds of new students every year, requiring hasty additions to existing school buildings, and the construction of new schools in neighborhoods that were springing up around town.
By the time Highland Park High School opened in September of 1915, enrollment far exceeded expectations, with 850 students signing up. In 1916, just a year after it opened, that number grew to over 1,000 high school students, filling the school to capacity. Plans for a second unit of the high school for 1,500 additional students to be built next to the first were immediately drawn up, with construction beginning in 1917.
Though the second unit of the high school used identical building materials and same English styling as the first, it was laid out differently. Initially the second unit was intended to be a high school for girls and a junior college, and was built with its own separate gymnasium and swimming pool. Instead of a second auditorium, a larger library and additional classrooms were set aside for a junior college program that would share the building with the girl’s high school. The new high school for girls opened in September of 1918, with a total enrollment of 1,525 students. Highland Park Junior College opened in 1918 as well, with 35 students. Course offerings included French, rhetoric, history, chemistry, zoology, and analytic geometry.
Within a few years the two high school programs merged and became co-ed. In 1927, a vocational education building including an automobile repair lab was built to south of the school, connected by an overhead walkway. A further addition to the vocational wing was added in 1938, and the auditorium was renovated in 1939. The high school thrived, with as many as 3,000 students and a host of extracurricular activities, including athletics, homemaking, and a school radio station.
Great Depression, Second World War
Enrollment at Highland Park Junior College steadily increased to around 300 students by the 1920’s, but slowed in the aftermath of the Great Depression. Lack of adequate space and a drop in the number of students to 159 in 1929 nearly led to the closure of college, but the residents of Highland Park voted to keep it open. This paid off in the long run, as after the Second World War ended enrollment skyrocketed from 117 in 1943 to 1,800 in 1947 as veterans returning to Highland Park used the GI bill to pay for college education.
By the 1940’s, population in Highland Park had peaked. Ford had moved auto production out of Highland Park to a new factory in the suburbs in 1927, and moved its headquarters to Dearborn in 1930. The construction of freeways made it easier for people to live outside the city, hastening an outward flight or residents to the suburbs. The racial composition of Highland Park changed as well. By 1968, over half of the 4,488 students were black, while teachers and administrators were mostly white. Sit-ins protesting the lack of diversity in the school administration were frequent in 1969.
The high school moves out
As part of a district-wide modernization program, several older schools in Highland Park were demolished and replaced with newer buildings in the 1950’s and 60’s. A nursery school was built on the south side of the campus in 1950, and an elementary school was built a block south in 1961. Plans for a new, modern high school to be built north on Woodward Avenue were drawn up in the early 1970’s, which would replace the existing school. The junior college (now a community college) would take over the entire building and expand its vocational offerings.
Construction on the new building was already underway when on the evening of March 18th 1975, a large fire broke out in the gymnasium of the old high school. Stacks of rolled-up wrestling mats were set alight as a practical joke, but the blaze quickly spread out of control, causing the roof and floor to cave into the basement swimming pool. The fire burned for over five hours as firefighters from Highland Park, Detroit, and Hamtramck struggled to contain it to just the gymnasium. While smoke and water damage throughout the high school were repaired fairly quickly, repairing the gymnasium was estimated to cost over $600,000. Since the high school was moving out in the near future, athletics were moved over to the community college building, which had its own pool and gymnasium. In 1977, the new Highland Park Community High School on Woodward Avenue opened, and the community college took over the Glendale campus. A temporary roof was built over the shell of the burned-out gymnasium, as administrators struggled with what to do next.
Not wishing to demolish the handsome limestone façade of the gym, the wing sat empty until 1983, when the community college approached Bloomfield Hills landscape architect James Scott about reusing the space. Scott envisioned turning the empty hall into a “multi-purpose concourse” and performing arts space, linking the two units together. Within a few days his ideas went from sketches to planning, and work began a short time later. The swimming pool, into which burning debris from above had been dumped, was covered by a new floor and sealed off. The open area above was a mix of the old and new, retaining the limestone wall of the adjacent gym, but incorporating modern styling throughout. Hexagons were the dominant theme, with planters turning the concourse into a green space. Work on the renovation concluded in 1985. In the years after the space was used for concerts, special events, and art galleries.
Community college struggles
Though enrollment at Highland Park Community College was 2,000 to 3,000 through most of the 1980’s, the college operated at a deficit that had grown to $1.4 million dollars by 1989. In an effort to save money, school administrators cut the LPN and respiratory therapy programs, sparking a four-day sit in strike by students. Though the administration reverses its decision, the financial situation continued to deteriorate, with accusations of rampant misuse of funds. After missing two consecutive annual audits, Michigan Governer John Engler began to withhold state funding for the college, as investigators report that Highland Park Community College “had the worst facilities of any community college in the state.”
In February of 1995, Governor Engler announced that all funding for the college would be stripped from the budget due to chronic financial and academic problems, stating, “Though the college has a long and distinguished tradition, it has become apparent that it is no longer an economically viable institution." Local representatives fought hard to keep the school open, arguing that it was making progress in fixing its financial situation and that the loss of the school would be devastating to Highland Park’s troubled economy. By December of 1995 the college had run out of money, and closed down.
Highland Park Career Academy, Final Years
The immediate impact of the closing of Highland Park Community College was that students were stranded in mid-study, some just a semester away from graduation. Though other nearby colleges tried to accommodate students, many never finished their studies, and walked away from secondary education. While elected officials fought to get funding restored, the school reopened as the Highland Park Career Academy, offering an alternative high school program and vocational training for students and young adults in the fields of nursing, dental hygiene, and auto repair. In 2001, the Ford Motor Company opened an automotive training center in the vocational education building, complete with demonstration cars.
Highland Park City Schools steadily lost students through the 2000’s, with K-12 enrollment falling to 2,700 by 2008 as students were lured away to other nearby school districts. As schools were funded by the state on a per pupil basis, this led to a major revenue shortfall for Highland Park. On January 23rd, 2009 the school board shut down the career academy with no official notification to parents, laying off 36 teachers to close the budget gap. Students were again left in the lurch with the cancellation of their programs, with few options for continuing their studies elsewhere. and leaving students stranded in mid-study. Only seniors were allowed to stay at the school until the end of the school year, with the remaining students to attend night school at Highland Park Community High School. However, the first scheduled night of classes was canceled without explanation. Most students dropped out, and the building closed for good in the summer of 2009.
For over 90 years, the old high school and college had been the center of Highland Park’s education system. By the time the school closed, the neighborhood and city around it had changed considerably. Ferris School and the hospitals closed in the 1990’s, along with the main library in 2002. The nursery school closed permanently in 2005. Most of the apartment buildings along Glendale and Highland had been vacated years ago, leaving large gaps in the fabric of the neighborhood. In the end, the closing of the career academy wound up costing the school district a large amount of funding, as students dropped out or left for other school districts. With just 969 students enrolled in 2012, the state of Michigan declared a financial emergency, and the Highland Park City Schools were taken over by a state emergency financial manager, who converted the district into a privately operated charter school system.
The new charter school operator found that the three remaining school buildings – Highland Park Community High, Ford, and Barber – were in terrible disrepair, and required proximately expensive work to be brought up to standards. In early 2012, school officials started looking at consolidating all of the schools into one K-12 as a way to save money. One alternative discussed was the reopening of the old high school and college building, which was large enough to support all of the students left in the district. The emergency manager visited the closed building in February to see if it would viable to reopen.
Since its closing in 2009, the old high school and college had been frozen in time, with little more than security and routine maintenance being carried out in its empty halls and classrooms. Though fairly secure for a few years, when the state took over the Highland Park City Schools, patrols at the closed building had been discontinued, leaving the school briefly open to scrappers and metal thieves. In the short time between the state takeover and the resumption of security at the school, scrappers had done enough damage to make reopening the school cost prohibitive. The plan was abandoned in favor of letting the three remaining schools stay open.
In the years since, scrappers and vandals have dismantled the old Highland Park High School. When the local Police department set up two non-working squad cars in the back of the building to deter people from entering, the cars were vandalized and removed less than a month later. In October of 2012 the windows of the school were boarded up, but by that time the damage had been done. The property was put up for sale with an asking price of $3 million dollars.
Seppeltsfield is more than just a place that is steeped in over 150 years of Australian wine history; this is a unique, living, breathing museum and probably the most historically important wine site in Australia
. The owners, Penfolds and then subsequently Southcorp are to be commended for not only leaving this site alone, but for wearing the cost of maintaining it. Since our visit, readers will know that Fosters now owns the operation. Reliable sources have informed me that no sooner was the ink dry on the deal the bean counters went to work seeing how they can best utilise this site. It is crucial that these accountants and business analysis not just look at a return on investment; if they have no social conscience and desecrate what is a national wine shrine that can never be replaced, they deserve, as a company, and as individuals to rot in hell.
Strong words indeed and this is no rant. Whilst many people will have tasted many of the fine Seppelt fortified wines, there is so much more to this place than what is found in the bottle. Yes, the bottles contents can be anything from good to the ultimate sensual wine experience, but it is what is behind the bottle that makes it so special and if Fosters screw with that, they will not only have raped the product, Fosters will have pillaged and plundered a unique part of our wine heritage that can never be replaced.
Our appointment was with the God Father and custodian of this unique enterprise, James Godfrey who is also known as the fortified wine maker but lets go back to the beginning.
Hop in the time machine and head back to 1851. It took forward thinking and guts to leave your homeland and venture off into the unknown in those times; even if things were not exactly rosy in the “old country”. Joseph Seppelt, an immigrant from Poland, was just such a person; he purchased land in the Barossa, named it after himself, and decided to grow a few grapes. In those times, families had to be as self sufficient as possible. None of this popping down to the supermarket for a few spuds and bit of rump steak; you wanted it and you either had to grow it, or barter for it, with your own produce, so old Joseph had a mixed farm. At that time, there wasn’t any such thing as “the pill” or synthetic condoms, so old Joe prolifically produced more than just grapes.
Now young Benno (with a name like that, it looks like the uniquely Australian way of bastardising and changing names started early ) was a pretty smart chip of the old block and wound up being “the main man” of the family. By 1878 he was doing his own thing, and had a radical idea. He went to the Mrs and said, “Hay Mrs S, we have mucho barrels of good port every year; why don’t we put down a barrel every year and leave it for a 100 years?”
Many people think about putting down a few bottles for their kids 21st but I told you Benno was a forward thinker like his old man; why settle for 21 years when you are dealing with top port? Much better to think long term, (they not worried about maximising quarterly stock market yields in those days;) let the great, great, great grandkids have something incredibly special to celebrate their family heritage.
And so a tradition was born. As time went on, it quickly became apparent that one barrel would not be enough, they needed extra material for topping up purposes so three barrels became the norm, at the end of 100 years there is only the one barrel left, the other two have replace thed evaporation from the "master" barrel, no wonder it has a syrupy consistency and concentrated flavour. Like all great traditions, it is continued today, long after the last family member has left the firm.
Benno was a pretty eccentric dude, none of your baseball caps, or even an Akubra for this guy. Like the American Express card of today, legend has it that Benno never left home without “it”; it being a violin and an umbrella. Even stranger, when you consider that he used to get around the place on the white horse, what a sight he would be galloping off to do the weekly shopping.
Benno’s eccentricity didn't end there. Towards the end of the 18th century, there was a severe economic depression and Benno’s philanthropy came to the fore. Workers mightn't have had the unions to stand up for them in those days, but those working for Seppelt didn't need one; old Benno didn't lay off a single worker. Workers decided that a good way of prettying the joint up was to plant a few trees (there were even greenies back then,) and they propagated the date palm seeds from the two trees next to the Homestead. By way of saying thanks, over a period of time, two trees became two thousand. If you visit Seppeltsfield, you will see most of them are still there today.
But Seppelt's is so much more than 100 year old port and date palm trees. Once we met James Godfrey and exchanged pleasantries, we hung a left out of the office, walked past the original Seppelt family home; then we were surrounded by elm trees and a rainforest like garden. We proceeded over the small bridge that spans the creek; up the hill, and finally the padlocks were removed from the huge, old, sliding winery door. If you ever drive past the south side of Seppeltsfield, you will notice a large, (frankly bloody ugly) old structure, painted in some revolting shade of “heritage yellow” that has been built on terraced levels. The design of this building is no accident and was a very practical and cunning bit of design work, especially so when you consider how long ago it was built.
Built way before there were modern fandangled conveniences like electricity, this working winery was designed to take advantage of the technology of the time, gravity, and when available, a bit of steam power and chain drives. Although the winery is no longer used, it could become fully functional again with ease, all the basic structure is there, and only some of the furnishings would be required.
The church of St Martin, Overstrand is home to three separate forms of memorial to the fallen of WW1 and WW2. Outside in the churchyard is the War Memorial, while inside the names are carved on a wooden panel. Beneath the panel there are two bound books, one for each conflict. Each name remembered here receives a small potted biography which I take no shame in reproducing here.
Henry Thomas George Hubbard
Son of George & Lotty Hubbard.
Born 22nd March 1922 at Suffield Park.
Educated at Cromer School.
Joined RAF in Dec. 1940
Served as Sergeant Wireless Operator / Air Gunner.
Engaged in mine laying off the German Coast.
Failed to return from raid on 27th May 1943.
Place of burial unknown.
HUBBARD, HENRY THOMAS GEORGE
Rank:…………………………….....Sergeant
Service No:…………………………1331086
Date of Death:………………………27/05/1943
Age:…………………………….......21
Service:……………………………..Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, 218 (Gold Coast) Sqdn
Panel Reference…………………….Panel 154.
Memorial……………………………RUNNYMEDE MEMORIAL
Additional Information:
Son of George William and Lotty Mabel Hubbard, of Cromer, Norfolk.
CWGC www.cwgc.org/find-war-dead/casualty/1800632/HUBBARD,%20HE...
Remembered on the War Memorial in the churchyard as:-
Henry G Hubbard R A F
At the time 218 Squadron was still flying the Short Stirling, (it didn’t convert to the Lancaster until 1944) and was stationed at RAF Downham Market in Norfolk.
www.raf.mod.uk/history/bombercommandno218squadron.cfm
It doesn’t look like 218 were in action on this day - on the 28th, 218 Squadron sent a freshman crew on a mining sortie to the Frisians to gain their first taste of operations, but F/S Mills and his crew were never seen again, and the cause of BF405’s demise remains a mystery.
218squadron.wordpress.com/history/
(Note the history isn’t specific about the date but refers to it as a couple of days after a raid on the 26th. Its other sites that are more specific in attributing the loss of BF405 to the 28th/29th period. Indeed a further search shows the same site having BF405 code HA-U failing to return from a mining sortie on the night of 27th/28th.)
On most of the usual sites I couldn’t find initially any loss reports on this date. Using Geoff’s Search Engine to locate other 218 Squadron members who died on the 27th May 1943 and who are remembered on the Runnymede Memorial produced the following, (bearing in mind the Stirling usually had a crew of 7).
Flight Sergeant William David Mills, aged 23. Son of David and Jessie Mills; husband of Gladys Joan Mills, of Hayes, Middlesex.
www.cwgc.org/find-war-dead/casualty/1076908/
Sergeant Stanley Moore, aged 21. Son of Harold and Helena Margaret More, of Hawes, Yorkshire.
www.cwgc.org/find-war-dead/casualty/1077100/
Sergeant Stanley Smith, aged 28. Son of George William and Margaret Isabella Smith; husband of Irene Smith, of Yeadon, Yorkshire.
www.cwgc.org/find-war-dead/casualty/1807578/
Pilot Officer James Bernard True, aged 22. Son of Llewellyn and Mabel True, of Loscoe, Yorkshire.
www.cwgc.org/find-war-dead/casualty/1809047/
Flying Officer William Vincent Fitzgerald, aged 22. RNZAF. Son of Harold Edward and Frances Edith Fitzgerald, of Rotorua, Auckland, New Zealand.
www.cwgc.org/find-war-dead/casualty/1270093/
Flight Sergeant Geoffrey Alan Matthias, aged 21, RNZAF. Son of Stanley Geoffrey and Ada Agnes Mathias, of New Lynn, Auckland, New Zealand.
www.cwgc.org/find-war-dead/casualty/1076550/
William Fitzgerald’s entry on the Auckland Virtual Cenotaph.
muse.aucklandmuseum.com/databases/Cenotaph/23873.detail?O...
And Geoffrey Alan “Mathias”
muse.aucklandmuseum.com/databases/Cenotaph/29121.detail?O...
Both don’t really add anything to our knowledge,
There are no official Luftwaffe claims in the Reich and Western Europe region on the 27th in the standard sources - there is a Short Stirling recorded as shot down at 00.58 Central European time by Uffz. Karl Pfeiffer of 10./NJG 1. However only the German code name for the area of interception is given and the height of the combat - 543 2a: 1.300 m..
This site, with a brief article on his career, gives that location as 70km NW Leeuwarden. That would make BF405 a definite possibility.
www.battleships-cruisers.co.uk/aces.php?PilotID=1707
This site includes Short Stirling BF405 in a long list of aircraft shot down by German night-fighters and gives the date as the 27/05/1943.
groups.google.com/forum/#!topic/soc.history.war.world-war...
USS Franklin D. Roosevelt (CV-42)
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
History
United States
Name: USS Franklin D. Roosevelt
Namesake: Franklin D. Roosevelt
Builder: New York Naval Shipyard
Laid down: 1 December 1943
Launched: 29 April 1945
Commissioned: 27 October 1945
Decommissioned: 30 September 1977
Struck: 1 October 1977
Nickname(s):
"Swanky Franky"
"Foo-De-Roo"
"Rosie"
"Rusty Rosie"
Fate: Scrapped
General characteristics (as built)
Class and type: Midway-class aircraft carrier
Displacement: 45,000 tons
Length: 968 ft (295 m)
Beam: 113 ft (34 m)
Draft: 35 ft (11 m)
Speed: 33 kn (61 km/h; 38 mph)
Complement: 4,104 officers and men
Armament:
18 × 1 – 5"/54 caliber Mark 16 guns
21 × 4 – 40 mm Bofors /60 caliber guns
Aircraft carried: 137
USS Franklin D. Roosevelt (CVB/CVA/CV-42) was the second of three Midway-class aircraft carriers. To her crew, she was known as "Swanky Franky," "Foo-De-Roo," or "Rosie," with the last nickname probably the most popular. Roosevelt spent most of her active deployed career operating in the Mediterranean Sea as part of the United States Sixth Fleet. The ship was decommissioned in 1977 and was scrapped shortly afterward.
Early career
Roosevelt at commissioning ceremonies in 1945
Franklin D. Roosevelt was laid down at New York Naval Shipyard on 1 December 1943. Sponsor Mrs. John H. Towers, wife of the Deputy Commander-in-Chief, Pacific Fleet, christened the ship Coral Sea at the 29 April 1945 launching. On 8 May 1945, President Harry S. Truman approved the Secretary of the Navy's recommendation to rename the ship Franklin D. Roosevelt in honor of the late president, who had died four weeks earlier.
Roosevelt was commissioned on Navy Day, 27 October 1945, at the New York Naval Shipyard. Capt. Apollo Soucek was the ship's first commanding officer. During her shakedown cruise, Roosevelt called at Rio de Janeiro from 1 to 11 February 1946 to represent the United States at the inauguration of Brazilian president Eurico Gaspar Dutra, who came aboard for a short cruise. During April and May, Roosevelt participated in Eighth Fleet maneuvers off the East Coast, the Navy's first major postwar training exercise.
On 21 July 1946, Roosevelt became the first American carrier to operate an all-jet aircraft under controlled conditions. Lieutenant Commander James Davidson, flying the McDonnell XFD-1 Phantom, made a series of successful take-offs and landings as Roosevelt lay off Cape Henry, Virginia.[1] Jet trials continued in November, when Lt. Col. Marion E. Carl, USMC, made two catapult launches, four unassisted take-offs, and five arrested landings in a Lockheed P-80A.
Fleet maneuvers and other training operations in the Caribbean preceded Roosevelt's first deployment to the Mediterranean, which lasted from August to October 1946. Roosevelt, flying the flag of Rear Admiral John H. Cassady, Commander, Carrier Division 1, led the U.S. Navy force that arrived in Piraeus on 5 September 1946.[2] This visit showed U.S. support for the pro-Western government of Greece, which was locked in a civil war with Communist insurgents. The ship received thousands of visitors during her calls to many Mediterranean ports.
Roosevelt returned to American waters and operated off the East Coast until July 1947, when she entered Norfolk Naval Shipyard for an extensive overhaul. At that time, her quad 40 mm Bofors anti-aircraft guns were replaced by 40 3-inch (76 mm) Mark 22 guns in Mark 33 twin mountings.
From September 1948 to January 1949, Roosevelt undertook a second tour of duty with U.S. Naval Forces, Mediterranean. In 1950, Roosevelt became the first carrier to take nuclear weapons to sea. In September and October 1952, she participated in Operation Mainbrace, the first major NATO exercise in the North Atlantic. Roosevelt operated with other major fleet units, including the aircraft carriers USS Midway, USS Wasp, and HMS Eagle, as well as the battleships USS Wisconsin and HMS Vanguard.
Roosevelt was reclassified CVA-42 on 1 October 1952. On 7 January 1954, she sailed for Puget Sound Naval Shipyard to undergo extensive reconstruction. Too large to pass through the Panama Canal, Roosevelt rounded Cape Horn and arrived at the shipyard on 5 March. She was temporarily decommissioned there for her refit on 23 April 1954.
Roosevelt was the first of her class to undergo the SCB-110 reconstruction, at a cost of $48 million. She received an enclosed "hurricane bow," one C-11-2 and two C-11-1 steam catapults, strengthened arresting gear, an enlarged bridge, a mirror landing system, and a 482-foot (147 m) angled flight deck. SPS-8 height finding radar and SPS-12 air search radar were mounted on a new tubular mast. The aft elevator was relocated to the starboard deck edge, the forward elevator was enlarged, and all elevators were uprated to 75,000 lb (34,000 kg) capacity. Aviation fuel bunkerage was increased from 350,000 to 450,000 gallons (1,320,000 to 1,700,000 L). Standard displacement rose to 51,000 tons, while deep load displacement rose to 63,400 tons. As weight compensation, several of the 5-inch (127 mm) Mark 16 anti-aircraft guns were landed, leaving only 10, and the 3,200-ton armor belt was removed. Hull blisters were also added to cope with the increased weight. Roosevelt recommissioned on 6 April 1956.
After post-refit trials, Roosevelt sailed for her new homeport of Mayport, Florida. In February 1957, Roosevelt conducted cold weather tests of catapults, aircraft, and the Regulus guided missile, in the Gulf of Maine. In July, she sailed for the first of three consecutive Sixth Fleet deployments. Her assignments in the Mediterranean added NATO exercises to her normal schedule of major fleet operations, and found her entertaining a distinguished list of guests each year.
A-4 Skyhawk of VA-172 aboard Roosevelt during her only Vietnam deployment between August 1966 and February 1967
During a 1958 mid-year overhaul, the 22 remaining 3-inch (76 mm) guns were removed.
On 24 October 1958, Roosevelt supported USS Kleinsmith in the evacuation of 56 American citizens and three foreign nationals from Nicara, Cuba, as the Cuban Revolution came to a climax.
In late 1960, the Control Instrument Company installed the first production Fresnel Lens Optical Landing System (FLOLS) onboard Roosevelt. She recorded her 100,000th aircraft landing in March 1961. During a 1963 overhaul, six more 5-inch (127 mm) guns were removed.
While operating in the Eastern Mediterranean in the fall of 1964, Roosevelt lost a blade from one of her 20-ton propellers. She proceeded from Naples, Italy to New York with the number one shaft locked. After replacing the propeller at Bayonne, New Jersey, Roosevelt returned to the Mediterranean to complete her cruise.
From August 1966 to January 1967, Roosevelt made her only deployment to Southeast Asia, spending a total of 95 days "on the line." Her embarked airwing, Carrier Air Wing One, consisted mainly of F-4 Phantom IIs and A-4 Skyhawks. Roosevelt received one battle star for her service during the Vietnam War.
In January 1968, Italian actress Virna Lisi was invited by Roosevelt's crew to participate in the ship's 22nd birthday celebrations. Lisi helped prepare 5,000 T-bone steaks at a large cook-out staged on the flight deck.
Roosevelt was initially slated to undergo an extensive reconstruction (SCB 101.68) similar to that received by Midway from 1966 to 1970. This plan was derailed by massive cost overruns in Midway's reconstruction, which eventually totalled $202 million. Roosevelt was therefore limited to an austere $46 million refit, enabling her to operate the Grumman A-6 Intruder and LTV A-7 Corsair II.
In July 1968, Roosevelt entered Norfolk Naval Shipyard for her 11-month modernization program. The forward centerline elevator was relocated to the starboard deck edge forward of the island, the port waist catapult was removed, the crew spaces were refurbished, and two of the four remaining 5-inch (127 mm) anti-aircraft turrets were removed. Roosevelt also received a deck edge spray system using the new seawater compatible fire-fighting chemical, Light Water. She put to sea again on 26 May 1969.
From 1 August 1969, Roosevelt embarked Carrier Air Wing Six, which served as the ship's air wing for the next seven cruises.[3] In January 1970, Roosevelt returned to the Mediterranean for another Sixth Fleet deployment.
Roosevelt's twenty-first Sixth Fleet deployment was marked by indirect participation in the October 1973 Yom Kippur War, as she served as a transit "landing field" for aircraft being delivered to Israel. The Roosevelt battlegroup, Task Force 60.2, also stood by for possible evacuation contingencies.
From 1973 through 1975, VAW-121 operated aboard Roosevelt as one of the last Grumman E-1 Tracer squadrons in the fleet. Roosevelt received a multipurpose designation, CV-42, on 30 June 1975, but she did not operate any anti-submarine aircraft. In June 1976, Roosevelt embarked VMA-231 with 14 AV-8A Harrier attack aircraft.
The ship embarked Carrier Air Wing Nineteen for its final deployment, which lasted from October 1976 to April 1977.[4] VMA-231 was on board for this deployment, which demonstrated that VTOL aircraft could be successfully and seamlessly integrated into fixed wing air operations. On 12 January 1977, Roosevelt collided with the Liberian grain freighter Oceanus while transiting the Strait of Messina. Both ships were able to proceed to port under their own power.
Decommissioning and disposal
By the late 1970s, Roosevelt was in poor material condition. Deprived of the upgrades that Midway and Coral Sea had received, Roosevelt was the least modern and least capable of the class. Furthermore, Roosevelt used General Electric turbines, which gave persistent problems and reduced speed compared to the Westinghouse units used on the other ships. The Navy therefore chose to decommission Roosevelt when the second Nimitz-class carrier, Dwight D. Eisenhower, entered service in 1977. Roosevelt completed her final cruise in April 1977. She was officially decommissioned on 30 September 1977. The decommissioning ceremony was held on 1 October 1977 and the ship was stricken from the Navy List on the same day. Efforts to preserve Roosevelt as a museum ship in New York City failed.
Roosevelt's generally poor condition weighed against retaining her in the reserve fleet. Moreover, her low hangar height of 17 feet 6 inches (5.33 m) limited the aircraft types that she could handle. It was reasoned that existing Essex-class aircraft carriers could handle the same types of aircraft at lower cost. Some admirals also feared that if Roosevelt were retained, the Carter Administration would use her reactivation as a reason to cancel future Nimitz-class carriers.
On 1 April 1978, the Defense Reutilization and Marketing Service sold the ship to River Terminal Development Company for $2.1 million. After usable equipment was removed from Roosevelt at the Norfolk Naval Shipyard's Inactive Ships Facility, the carrier was towed to Kearny, New Jersey. She arrived on 3 May 1978 and was scrapped that year.
While the Obama White House celebrated the US Supreme Court decision in favor of its health care bill, several hundred people gathered in front of Downstate public hospital in Brooklyn to protest plans to lay off over 1000 doctors and health care workers or close the hospital entirely. The hospital, serves a predominately low income Black, Latino and Caribbean neighborhood and is one of thousands of hospitals in minority communities closed or downsized in recent years. last year Downstate treated nearly half a million patients. It was a reminder that the gap between the reality and the political hype surrounding access to health care for low income communities is wide - and getting wider
Adaptat dupa romanul omonim al jurnalistului David Ignatius de la publicatia Washington Post, filmul "Body of lies" urmareste misiunea sub acoperire intreprinsa de catre agentul CIA Roger Ferris in Jordan, o tara din sud-vestul Asiei, cu scopul de a captura un lider terorist cunoscut sub numele de "Suleiman". Intors din Irak cu un picior fracturat, Ferris primeste de la superiorii lui sarcina de a se infiltra in vasta retea terorista, pregatind pentru aceasta un plan elaborat si periculos, inspirat dintr-o celebra misiune a Serviciilor Secrete Britanice din timpul celui de-al doilea Razboi Mondial. Pentru a fi sigur de reusita Roger Ferris are nevoie de sprijinul lui Hani, seful Serviciilor Secrete din Jordan si al vicleanului veteran CIA Ed Hoffman, cu care formeaza o alianta problematica, ce conduce adeseori la conflicte morale si culturale intre cei trei barbati.
Intrebarea pe care si-o pune Ferris este daca poate avea deplina incredere in Hani si in Hoffman, fara sa pericliteze rezultatul misiunii sale secrete si fara sa isi riste propria viata.
Body of Lies is a 2008 American spy film based on the novel of the same name by David Ignatius about a CIA operative who goes to Jordan to track a high-ranking terrorist. The film is directed by Ridley Scott, director of American Gangster and Black Hawk Down, written by William Monahan, and stars Leonardo DiCaprio, Russell Crowe, Vince Colosimo, and Iranian actress Golshifteh Farahani.
Roger Ferris (DiCaprio) is a CIA operative, most likely from their elite Special Activities Division. He is in Iraq who is trying to track down a terrorist called Al Salim. While following a lead, Ferris' asset (who he has become good friends with) is killed during a car chase involving terrorists, rocket-propelled grenades and two missile-firing U.S. helicopters. Ferris recovers from his injuries at a U.S. facility in Qatar before he is sent to Jordan to run down some intelligence he recovered in Iraq. Meanwhile, unknown terrorists plan to follow up an offscreen series of bus bombings in Sheffield, with more attacks in Manchester but blow themselves up when the police find their cell. Later, another terrorist undertakes a cell phone-triggered bombing in an Amsterdam flower market that kills at least 75 people.
Ferris' handler, Ed Hoffman (Russell Crowe), keeps tabs on Ferris via an UAV. Towards the start of the movie, Hoffman speaks to his CIA superiors. He explains to them how terrorists are turning their back on technology by throwing away their phones and computers and using old methods of communicating face-to-face and with written messages. Because of this, the terrorists are very hard to track.
In Jordan, Ferris tosses the ineffectual Station Chief out of his office before he meets Hani Salaam, head of the Jordanian General Intelligence Department (GID) who tells Ferris to never lie to him. Hoffman finds an Al Salim safehouse in Jordan and tells Ferris to conduct a surveillance operation on it. However, Hoffman organises another CIA operative Skip (Vince Colosimo) to conduct an operation without Ferris' consent. The other agent screws the operation up and blows his cover after saying something compromising to a terrorist from the safehouse. The terrorist takes off running, intent on relaying information that the safehouse is being watched. Ferris chases him down and kills him by stabbing him, getting bitten by dogs in the process. Hani covers up the killing by passing it off as a robbery and Ferris accuses Hoffman of running "side operations", telling Hoffman to lay off.
Ferris meanwhile goes to hospital to tend to his wounds. While in the hospital he meets a nurse named Aisha (Golshifteh Farahani), and he gradually falls in love with her. Hani recognises one of the men living in the safehouse as a man he had known for years named Karami (Kais Nashif) and he takes him out into the desert and coerces him into working for Jordanian intelligence (he has been sending money to Karami's mother and making it appear as if it came from her reformed and successful son, so she doesn't know Karami is still a thief and now a wannabe terrorist, and he is shamed and surprised when Hani does not kill him but lets him ride away on his bicycle). Hoffman asks Hani to hand Karami over to the CIA, most likely to interrogate him but Hani refuses, having earlier told Ferris he does not believe in torture. Unknown to Ferris and Hani, Hoffman tells Ferris' CIA subordinate to follow Karami and kidnap him. Karami gets away and notifies the terrorists in the safehouse that it is being watched, resulting in the safehouse being lit on fire and abandoned. Ferris's partner is caught and Hani professes his belief that Ferris had knowledge of the move on Karami and therefore blames his lack of honesty with Hani for the destruction of the safehouse. Hani gives Ferris 12 hours to leave Jordan.
Ferris comes back to the States for a while and argues with Hoffman, whom he derides as power-hungry and fat. He then comes up with a plan to make contact with the terrorist Al Salim by staging a significant terrorist attack, the logic being that Al Salim will hear about this attack and try to make contact with the terrorist group who committed it. With the help of one of Hoffman's CIA friends, Ferris is able to frame a Jordanian architect named Omar Sadiki by posing as a financier contracting a bank's construction in the UAE, making him look like the head of a terrorist cell.
The "terrorist attack" is staged at the Incirlik Air Base in Turkey. A bomb is exploded in the base and Ferris uses unclaimed local bodies dressed as soldiers to make it seem that soldiers were killed in the attack. Al Salim (Alon Abutbul) sees the report of the attack on television and tries to make contact with Sadiki.
Hani tells Ferris to come back to Jordan because he knows that he needs Ferris. Hani then talks to Ferris about his suspicions that Omar Sadiki is a terrorist. Ferris hides that this is not the case, and acts as if he doesn't know anything concerning Hani's suspicions. Ferris later tries to save Sadiki from being kidnapped by Al Salim's henchmen but fails and sees another CIA agent nearly killed in the subsequent car crash. Sadiki informs Salim that Ferris made it seem he committed the terrorist attack. Sadiki is killed. Ferris goes back to his apartment and finds out that Aisha has been kidnapped. He then desperately asks Hani for his help, explaining to Hani that he made up Omar Sadiki's terrorist cell and the terrorist attack supposedly committed by Sadiki was faked. However, Hani refuses to help Ferris because Ferris lied to him.
Ferris gets a call from the kidnappers and is told to wait for a van. The van picks him up and drops him in the desert. Meanwhile back in CIA headquarters, Hoffman is watching everything via an unmanned aerial vehicle. Ferris is then picked up by a group of men in cars and the vehicles create a massive cloud of dust before splitting up. Hoffman is unable to follow Ferris because he has no idea which van he is in.
Ferris is taken to be interrogated by Al Salim, just across the border in Syria. When Ferris asks Al Salim about Aisha, Salim tells Ferris that someone has lied to him and he has been doublecrossed. While Ferris tells Salim that there is an infiltrator (Karami) in his organization who works for him, and that, by association, Salim works for him, and laughs in his face, and subsequently spits in Salim's face, Salim smashes two of Ferris' fingers with a hammer before turning on a video camera and ordering Ferris to be cut loose. Al Salim then leaves. Ferris is prepared by Al Salim's men to be executed on video. As Ferris is about to be executed, Hani and his men burst into the room, killing all of the terrorists and arresting Al Salim.
While in the hospital, Ferris is visited by Hani who reveals to him that it was his men who kidnapped Aisha, using blood she donated regularly at work to make it appear she'd been killed or wounded. He then brokered a deal with Al Salim (using Karami): he would deliver CIA agent Ferris to him, for money. It was one of Hani's men who rang Ferris and dropped him in the desert. Since Karami was Hani's man inside Al Salim's organization he was able to locate Ferris and Al Salim in time to save Ferris and arrest Al Salim. Aisha has been released and is fine, and she does not know what role her kidnapping played.
In the end Hoffman offers Ferris a job in his office, but Ferris declines and tells Hoffman that he quits the CIA. Hoffman prepares to leave Jordan and resigns himself to Ferris not changing his mind. At the movie's end, Ferris seemingly decides to not contact Aisha therein refuting what Hoffman had repeated numerous times through the movie; claiming that no one is innocent. However Ferris is seen in the market buying pastries, in a box similar to that which he had taken to Aisha's and it is left to the viewer to decide whether he leaves her to live her life or act's selfishly, involving her in his.
Dutch postcard by N.V. Platenmaatschappij CNR, Leiden. Promotion card for the LP Ich sing ein Lied für dich.
Dutch singer and actor Hein Simons (1955) was a famous child star in the 1960’s under the name Heintje. He sang in Dutch, English, German, Japanese and Afrikaans, and he sold more than 40 million records worldwide. His greatest hit was Mama. Between 1968 and 1971 he also starred in six German light entertainment films, of which one became surprisingly popular in Red China.
Hendrik (Hein) Nicolaas Theodoor Simons was born in Kerkrade-Bleijerheide, in the south of the Netherlands, in 1955. Heintje was discovered during a talent contest in the Dutch town of Schaesberg by Addy Kleijngeld, who went on to compose and record all his Dutch hit songs. His German producer was till 1976 Ronny (Wolfgang Roloff). Heintje’s first hit was Mama (1967), a Dutch version of the evergreen sung in the 1940’s by opera tenor Beniamino Gigli. It became a success in the Netherlands and a German version was produced for the German countries. In 1968 Mama reached the #2 position in the German hitparade. Heintje’s next German record, Du sollst nicht weinen (You should not cry) (1968), even became #1. Other huge hits soon followed as the # 1 hit in Germany ánd the Netherlands Ich bau' dir ein Schloss (I’ll build you a castle) (1968), Heidschi bumbeidschi (1968) – another # 1 in both Germany and the Netherlands, Ich sing ein Lied für dich (I sing you a song) (1969) – another # 1 in Germany, the Dutch song Ik hou van Holland (I love Holland) (1970), the English song I'm your little boy (1970) and another Dutch song Jij bent de allerbeste (You are the best) (1971). He received 45 Golden records (at the time the award for 250,000 sold records), two platinum records and one diamond record. Worldwide he sold more than 40 million records.
Between 1968 and 1971 Heintje appeared in six German films. His first film was Zum Teufel mit der Penne/To Hell with School (1968, Werner Jacobs) with Peter Alexander and Theo Lingen. This comedy was the second of the Lümmel film series (6 in total), stuffy but harmless farces in which young students and other youths dissociate themselves from the older generation. Heintje played a supporting role and sang his hit Mama. In the following years he starred in three sentimental Heintje-films: Heintje – ein Herz geht auf Reisen/Heintje: A Heart Goes on a Journey (1969, Werner Jacobs) opposite Heinz Reincke, Heintje – einmal wird die Sonne wieder scheinen/Heintje: Once the Sun Will Be Shining Again (1970, Hans Heinrich) with Paul Dahlke, and Heintje – mein bester Freund/Heintje: My Best Friend (1970, Werner Jacobs) with Corny Collins. Heintje – ein Herz geht auf Reisen was awarded a Golden Screen in Germany. Surprisingly, it became a popular film in communist China in the early 1980’s. On IMDb, reviewer Zhengyu Sun comments: “In the West, this film may be easily neglected as time goes by. But amazingly, Heintje would definitely be crowned as one of the memorable western films on Chinese screen even from today's perspective. Although filmed in 1960s,the film wasn't available in red China until earlier 1980s. When the film was introduced,it was given a Chinese title, Handsome Boy. Actually, Heintje conforms with Chinese traditional values to great extend, such as parental and grand parental love, the theme of harmonious family, main character's righteous and courageous virtue. All of which seem pretty familiar and quite acceptable to Chinese point of view. What's more, the songs performed by little Heintje Simons also contribute a lot to the popularity of the film in China. Without any exaggerating, the film is a household name among those middle-aged and well-educated.” Heintje also appeared - now in starring roles –in two more Lümmel farces, Hurra, die Schule brennt/ Hurrah, the School is Burning (1969, Werner Jacobs) and Morgen fällt die Schule aus/No School Tomorrow (1971, Werner Jacobs), his final film.
When Heintje was 16, the inevitable happened: his voice changed. His last hit in the Netherlands was Meine Liebe für dich (My love for you) (1972). He continued to be popular in Germany, but couldn’t lay off his image as a former child star. In 1975, he made two LP’s with songs in Afrikaans and which were quite successfully in South-Africa. His performances in the state of apartheid lead to some criticism in his home country though. As a young adult, he tried to make a come-back in the Netherlands with the song Und das alles nur weil wir uns lieben (And that while we love each other) (1978), but it only became a modest hit. He also tried several come-backs in the German speaking regions and in 1995 he even recorded a techno version of his first hit Mama. Nowadays Hein Simons resides with his family on a horse ranch in Neu-Moresnet, a part of the city of Kelmis in the east of Belgium. In 1981, he had married Doris Uhl, and they have three children, Pascal (1982), Gina (1989) and Hendrik (1992). Hein Simons still performs and records regularly.
Sources: Zhengyu Sun (IMDb), Wikipedia and IMDb.
I made a nice dinner tonight to mark the final day of my summer lay-off from work. It's back to the grind tomorrow, a new season at the opera. And for the first time since 2007, no Ring Cycle to work on!
I marinated the chicken in ginger oil and the berbere spice mix I made earlier this year for an African meal. I believe I also tossed in some mirin, sake, and soy sauce. The black rice is mixed with sweet potato, scallions, and ginger. There are also slices of grilled bell pepper, and a salad.
Lighting: An SB-800 with a diffusion dome bounced off an umbrella camera left and to the back. Ambient for fill.
192/365
Just a chick :-)
He was in a tree on my backyard waiting for the squirrel to lay off the nosh so that he could take over..... the birds' nosh :-))
It was quite a cute dispute over the birds food between the two babies: the squirrel and the woodpecker :-)
I took the shot from my balcony. It was getting dark , so I used the flash. But as the inbuilt flash wouldn't make it at that distance, I tried using an old external one that used to be used with an analogue camera. It's a Bauer E 528 ABS and I used it on my Panasonic Lumix FZ30.
The result didn't look that bad ;-)
Someone has just sent this to me and swore it was a real advert from an Irish newspaper.
Car For Sale
1985 Blue Volkswaggen
Only 50 miles.
Only first and reverse gears ever used.
Never driven hard.
Original tyres.
Original brakes.
Original fuel and Oil.
Only one driver.
Owner wishing to sell owing to employment lay off.
German postcard by Filmbilder-Vertrieb Ernst Freihoff, Essen, no. AX 7080. Photo: Norbert Unfried / Ariola.
Dutch singer and actor Hein Simons (1955) was a famous child star in the 1960s under the name Heintje. He sang in Dutch, English, German, Japanese and Afrikaans, and he sold more than 40 million records worldwide. His greatest hit was Mama. Between 1968 and 1971 he also starred in six German light entertainment films, of which one became surprisingly popular in Red China.
Hendrik (Hein) Nicolaas Theodoor Simons was born in Kerkrade-Bleijerheide, in the south of the Netherlands, in 1955. Heintje was discovered after a talent contest in the Dutch town of Schaesberg by Addy Kleijngeld, a producer of the CNR record company. Kleijngeld went on to compose and record all his hit songs - mostly together with the German producer Wolfgang Roloff. Heintje’s first hit was Mama (1967), a Dutch version of the evergreen sung in the 1940’s by opera tenor Beniamino Gigli. It became a success in the Netherlands and a German version was produced for the German countries. In 1968 Mama reached the #2 position in the German hitparade. Heintje’s next German record, Du sollst nicht weinen (You should not cry) (1968), even became #1. Other huge hits soon followed as the # 1 hit in Germany ánd the Netherlands Ich bau' dir ein Schloss (I’ll build you a castle) (1968), Heidschi bumbeidschi (1968) – another # 1 in both Germany and the Netherlands, Ich sing ein Lied für dich (I sing you a song) (1969) – another # 1 in Germany, the Dutch song Ik hou van Holland (I love Holland) (1970), the English song I'm your little boy (1970) and another Dutch song Jij bent de allerbeste (You are the best) (1971). In 1971, Heintje started a USA tour with 10 shows. He received 45 Golden records all over the world (at the time the award for 250,000 sold records in Europe and for 1 million records in Great-Britain) and a dozen Platinum records. Worldwide he sold more than 40 million records.
Between 1968 and 1971, Heintje appeared in six German films. His first film was Zum Teufel mit der Penne/To Hell with School (Werner Jacobs, 1968) with Peter Alexander and Theo Lingen. This comedy was the second of the Lümmel film series (6 in total), stuffy but harmless farces in which young students and other youths dissociate themselves from the older generation. Heintje played a supporting role and sang his hit Mama. In the following years he starred in three sentimental Heintje-films opposite Heinz Reincke and Ralf Wolter: Heintje – ein Herz geht auf Reisen/Heintje: A Heart Goes on a Journey (Werner Jacobs, 1969), Heintje – einmal wird die Sonne wieder scheinen/Heintje: Once the Sun Will Be Shining Again (Hans Heinrich, 1970) with Paul Dahlke, and Heintje – mein bester Freund/Heintje: My Best Friend (Werner Jacobs, 1970) with Corny Collins. Heintje – ein Herz geht auf Reisen was awarded a Golden Screen in Germany for more than 3,000,000 attendances within 12 months. With subtitles the Heintje films were shown all over the world. Surprisingly, the film became also popular in communist China in the early 1980s. On IMDb, Zhengyu Sun comments: “In the West, this film may be easily neglected as time goes by. But amazingly, Heintje would definitely be crowned as one of the memorable western films on Chinese screen even from today's perspective. Although filmed in 1960s, the film wasn't available in Red China until earlier 1980s. When the film was introduced, it was given a Chinese title, Handsome Boy. Actually, Heintje conforms with Chinese traditional values to great extend, such as parental and grandparental love, the theme of the harmonious family, the main character's righteous and courageous virtue. All of which seem pretty familiar and quite acceptable to the Chinese point of view. What's more, the songs performed by little Heintje Simons also contributed a lot to the popularity of the film in China. Without any exaggerating, the film is a household name among those middle-aged and well-educated.” Heintje also appeared - now in starring roles –in two more Lümmel farces, Hurra, die Schule brennt/Hurrah, the School is Burning (Werner Jacobs, 1969) and Morgen fällt die Schule aus/No School Tomorrow (Werner Jacobs, 1971), his final film.
When Heintje was 16, the inevitable happened: his voice changed. His last hit in the Netherlands was Meine Liebe für dich (My love for you) (1972). He continued to be quite popular in Germany, but couldn’t lay off his image as a former child star. In 1975, he made two LP’s with songs in Afrikaans, which were quite successful in South-Africa. His performances in the state of apartheid lead to some criticism in his home country though. As a young adult, he tried to make a come-back in the Netherlands with the song Und das alles nur weil wir uns lieben (And that's just because we love each other) (1978), but it only became a modest success. He also tried several come-backs in the German speaking regions, and in 1995 he even recorded a techno version of his first hit Mama. Nowadays Hein Simons resides with his family on a horse ranch in Neu-Moresnet, a part of the city of Kelmis in the east of Belgium. In 1981, he married Doris Uhl, and they have three children, Pascal (1982), Gina (1989) and Hendrik (1992). Hein Simons still performs and records regularly.
Sources: International Hein Simons Website, Zhengyu Sun (IMDb), Wikipedia and IMDb.
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