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A laborer waiting for hiring is taking a siesta after lunchtime.
Those Chinese words mean:
Clean & repair
Cooker hoods
Gas cookers
Water heaters
Me choosing the evening menu on the beach restaurant
Phi Phi Island, Thailand.
© Angela M. Lobefaro
Before our trip to Bamboo Island.
It was funny, this boat broke the engine in the middle of the ride to Bamboo Island.
Lucky, the weather was good.
We stayed more than 1 hour in the middle of no where in the Ocean!
(with no mobile phone, nothing!) But the good fisherman fixed the engine!
The Phi Phi Islands (Thai: หมู่เกาะพีพี) are located in Thailand, between the large island of Phuket and the western Andaman Sea coast of the mainland. Phi Phi Don, the larger and principal of the two Phi Phi islands, is located at [show location on an interactive map] 7°44′00″N, 98°46′00″E. Both Phi Phi Don, and Phi Phi Leh, the smaller, are administratively part of Krabi province, most of which is on the mainland, and is located at [show location on an interactive map] 8°02′30″N, 98°48′39″E.
Ko Phi Phi Don ("ko" (Thai: เกาะ) meaning "island" in the Thai language) is the largest island of the group, and is the only island with permanent inhabitants, although the beaches of the second largest island, Ko Phi Phi Lee (or "Ko Phi Phi Leh"), are visited by many people as well. There are no accommodation facilities on this island, but it is just a short boat ride from Ko Phi Phi Don. The rest of the islands in the group, including Bida Nok, Bida Noi, and Bamboo Island, are not much more than large limestone rocks jutting out of the sea.
Phi Phi Don was initially populated by Muslim fishermen during the late 1940s, and later became a coconut plantation. The Thai population of Phi Phi Don remains more than 80% Muslim.But the actual population if counting laborers, especially from the north-east, from the mainland is much more Buddhist these days.
Ko Phi Phi Leh was the backdrop for the 2000 movie The Beach. Phi Phi Leh also houses the 'Viking Cave', from which there is a thriving bird's nest soup industry. There was criticism during filming of 'The Beach' that the permission granted to the film company to physically alter the environment inside Phi Phi Islands National Park was illegal. [1] The controversy cooled down however, when it was discovered that the producers had done such a decent job of restoring the place that it finally looked better than it had done before.
Following the release of The Beach, tourism on Phi Phi Don increased dramatically, and with it the population of the island. Many buildings were constructed without planning permission.[citation needed]
Ko Phi Phi was devastated by the Indian Ocean tsunami of December 2004, when nearly all of the island's infrastructure was wiped out. Redevelopment has, however, been swift, and services like electricity, water, Internet access and ATMs are up and running again, but waste handling has been slower to come back online.
My Most interesting photos for a guy called Isaias
Immigrant laborers hand dug this old railroad cut around 1870 using the primative tools of the day (picks and shovels). There is no evidence of blasting having been done here - no drill marks.
I once drove my car through here in the late 1980s. At that time it was a fire road and kept open. Since then the forest this road served was flooded to become a reservoir and the road no longer maintained. In the succeeding 25 years Mother Nature has seen to it that only walkers will go through here now.
画师 Painter 2012年2月4日 宁波奉化 。渔村老街的墙上还有留有当年画的水墨壁画，作者沈师傅不好意思地介绍当初创作的故事，一晃三十多年过去了。
MINOLTA TC-1 /Kodak T-max100 film / Epson V700
Workers water and arrange plants in a greenhouse in Baghdad.
Credit : ILO/Apex Image
Date : 2011/03
Country : Irak
Persistent URL: digital.lib.muohio.edu/u?/tradecards,1670
Subject (TGM): Agriculture; Animals; Swine; Sheep; Geese; Horses; Animal feeding; Animal fighting; Farms; Agricultural facilities; Plants; Agricultural machinery & implements; Farmhouses; Farm life; Agricultural laborers; Barns; Croplands; Harvesting;
Workers prepare to load onions onto a truck.
Credit : ILO/Apex Image
Date : 2009/03
Country : United Arab Emirates
NOLA 2013 - Mardi gras - The Krew Zulu Parad
Early in 1909, a group of laborers who had organized a club named 'The Tramps' went to the Pythian Theater to see a musical comedy performed by the Smart Set. The comedy included a skit entitled, 'There Never Was and Never Will Be a King Like Me,' about the Zulu Tribe.
That is how Zulu began, as the many stories go...
Years of extensive research by Zulu's staff of historians seem to indicate that Zulu's beginning was much more complicated than that. The earliest signs of organization came from the fact that the majority of these men belonged to a Benevolent Aid Society. Benevolent Societies were the first forms of insurance in the Black community where, for a small amount of dues, members received financial help when sick or financial aid when burying deceased members.
Conversations and interviews with older members also indicate that in that era the city was divided into wards, and each ward had its own group or 'Club.' The Tramps were one such group. After seeing the skit, they retired to their meeting place (a room in the rear of a restaurant/bar in the 1100 block of Perdido Street), and emerged as Zulus. This group was probably made up of members from the Tramps, the Benevolent Aid Society and other ward-based groups.
While the 'Group' marched in Mardi Gras as early as 1901, their first appearance as Zulus came in 1909, with William Story as King.
The group wore raggedy pants, and had a Jubilee-singing quartet in front of and behind King Story. His costume of 'lard can' crown and 'banana stalk' scepter has been well-documented. The Kings following William Story (William Crawford - 1910, Peter Williams - 1912, and Henry Harris - 1914) were similarly attired.
1915 heralded the first use of floats, constructed on a spring wagon, using dry good boxes. The float was decorated with palmetto leaves and moss and carried four Dukes along with the King. That humble beginning gave rise to the lavish floats we see in the Zulu parade today.
Zulu's 2017 Mardi Gras theme is 'Stop the Violence'
( Two weeks in NOLA for the mardi gras 2013 )
Two weeks in NOLA for the mardi gras 2017
Early in 1909, a group of laborers who had organized a club named 'The Tramps' went to the Pythian Theater to see a musical comedy performed by the Smart Set. The comedy included a skit entitled, 'There Never Was and Never Will Be a King Like Me,' about the Zulu Tribe.
That is how Zulu began, as the many stories go...
Years of extensive research by Zulu's staff of historians seem to indicate that Zulu's beginning was much more complicated than that. The earliest signs of organization came from the fact that the majority of these men belonged to a Benevolent Aid Society. Benevolent Societies were the first forms of insurance in the Black community where, for a small amount of dues, members received financial help when sick or financial aid when burying deceased members.
Conversations and interviews with older members also indicate that in that era the city was divided into wards, and each ward had its own group or 'Club.' The Tramps were one such group. After seeing the skit, they retired to their meeting place (a room in the rear of a restaurant/bar in the 1100 block of Perdido Street), and emerged as Zulus. This group was probably made up of members from the Tramps, the Benevolent Aid Society and other ward-based groups.
While the 'Group' marched in Mardi Gras as early as 1901, their first appearance as Zulus came in 1909, with William Story as King.
The group wore raggedy pants, and had a Jubilee-singing quartet in front of and behind King Story. His costume of 'lard can' crown and 'banana stalk' scepter has been well-documented. The Kings following William Story (William Crawford - 1910, Peter Williams - 1912, and Henry Harris - 1914) were similarly attired.
1915 heralded the first use of floats, constructed on a spring wagon, using dry good boxes. The float was decorated with palmetto leaves and moss and carried four Dukes along with the King. That humble beginning gave rise to the lavish floats we see in the Zulu parade today.
Zulu's 2017 Mardi Gras theme is 'Stop the Violence'
Laborer/hostler/engine watchman Sherman Martin, front, and trainee Pete Henry fuel a locomotive at the Metra coach yard in Elgin.
Photo taken with permission/Metra escort.
Joe Lewnard photo/jlewnard@dailyherald.com
View the story and audio slideshow at: www.dailyherald.com/article/20160702/news/160709757/#auto...
The original papyrus scroll. Most slaves were able to buy or work their way to freedom, and were usually well treated for illness, injury and other medical uses. The use of slaves depends on the owner if the owner abuses or treats them well.The original papyrus to what it really should have shown other than the warped picture.
This drawing of a tomb painting from Ankhmahor in Saqqarah, Egypt, later copy used on papyrus illustration of male workers in a genital cutting ceremony and treating the circumcision by doctors, to show a rite of passage to identity, gender, and power. Judaism took this painful rite of passage and placed it on the eighth day of an infant's life.
Laborer apprentice Yurvina Hernandez introduces President Joe Biden before his remarks on Infrastructure Act investments at the Metro D Line extension transit project site, Thursday, October 13, 2022, in Los Angeles. (Official White House Photo by Adam Schultz)
Laborer apprentice Yurvina Hernandez introduces President Joe Biden before his remarks on Infrastructure Act investments at the Metro D Line extension transit project site, Thursday, October 13, 2022, in Los Angeles. (Official White House Photo by Adam Schultz)
Persistent URL: digital.lib.muohio.edu/u?/tradecards,4505
Subject (TGM): Children; Girls; Servants; Child laborers; Children doing housework; Furniture; Furniture stores;
Digital ID: 1260122. Negro agricultural laborers watching one of their houses burn to the ground; All they have left is piled on the ground.. Wolcott, Marion Post -- Photographer. Date depicted: January 1939
Notes: LOC negative # : 50897-D.
Source: Farm Security Administration Collection. / Florida. / Marion Post Wolcott. (more info)
Repository: The New York Public Library. Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture. Photographs and Prints Division.
See more information about this image and others at NYPL Digital Gallery.
Persistent URL: digitalgallery.nypl.org/nypldigital/id?1260122
Rights Info: No known copyright restrictions; may be subject to third party rights (for more information, click here)
A day laborer in Islamabad, Pakistan pauses from his work of harvesting wheat by hand. He holds a sickle, known locally as a "daranti".
Photo credit: A. Yaqub/CIMMYT.
For the latest on CIMMYT in Pakistan, see: blog.cimmyt.org/?s=Pakistan.
Among all asian vintage photographs that I have collected so far there are only few from Korea. This one is on baryta paper (from the same provenance as the previous japanese pictures). I think it must have been taken in the 1920s, when Korea was occupied by Japan.
laborers Ox teams
Real photo view of a man and two oxen pulling a plow.
Digital Collection:
North Carolina Postcards
Date:
1926; 1927; 1928; 1929; 1930; 1931; 1932; 1933; 1934; 1935; 1936; 1937; 1938; 1939
Location:
Higgins (N.C.); Yancey County (N.C.);
Collection in Repository
Durwood Barbour Collection of North Carolina Postcards (P077); collection guide available
online at www.lib.unc.edu/ncc/pcoll/77barbour/77barbour.html
Orphans in Rwanda are manipulated and forced to work laborious jobs like carrying quarry stones and working in hazardous conditions.
Forced labor in Austria from 1938 to 1945
In the autumn/ winter period of 1944, approximately 800,000 nationals and foreigners in the area of today's Austria are said to have been forced to work. The different groups of forced laborers were treated differently in principle, were subjected to different degrees of coercion and were restricted in their freedom of movement. The following groups of forced laborers must be distinguished:
Austrian Jews in forced labor camps from late 1938 to 1941 (in some cases until 1945)
The forced labor of Austrian Jews was organized by employment offices after they were deprived of any income. Austrian employment offices acted on their own initiative, they did not need any laws or regulations. The "Ostmark" at the time had a pioneering role for the entire German Reich, as in the case of persecution of Jews as a whole. Approximately 20,000 Austrian Jews are likely to have done forced labor.
Roma and Sinti in forced labor camps from 1938 to 1945
Also in the case of the Austrian Roma and Sinti communities and welfare authorities acted first without instruction from Berlin. Thousands of people were taken from their jobs and locked up in forced labor camps on the grounds that the "work-shy Gypsies" had to be forced to work so that they would not become a burden on the state.
Justice inmates
Unfortunately, there is still no research work on the prisons in Austria. Therefore, nothing is known about the extent and nature of the work of judicial detainees.
National and foreigners in "work education camps"
Very little is known about the "work education camps" located in Austria (eg in Oberlanzendorf, Reichenau, Weyer). Their main task was to discipline the domestic, but especially the foreign workers. The Gestapo detention period was several weeks to months before they had to return to their old jobs. Due to the high turnover, the number of people affected by "Arbeitserziehungshaft (work education imprisonment)" can not be estimated according to the current state of research.
Civilian foreigners, described by National Socialists as "foreign workers"
These formed by far the largest group of forced laborers on Austrian territory. In this group, too, there may have been a certain fluctuation due to flight, admission to concentration camps and, until 1943, deportation of the sick to their home countries. Despite the continuously changing survey methods and the limits that do not apply to today's federal states, the dimension of "foreign workers" employment in Austria can be stated to some extent clearly on the basis of NS statistics.
Number of civilian foreigners ("foreign workers") in the "Ostmark":
25. 4. 1941 128.730
July 10, 1942 302,464
15. 11. 1943 527.590
30. 9. 1944 580.640
At the end of 1943, the proportion of foreigners in Austria was on average 23.1% higher than in the German Reich (19.7%). It rose until the autumn of 1944 to 25.3% of all employees, while the proportion of foreigners in the German Reich was 20.5%.
Concentration camp prisoners
The twin camp Mauthausen/Gusen near Linz developed from 1938 or 1940 until the liberation from a murder camp with a quarry to a complex, on the basis of a division of labor, for tens of thousands prisoners deadly network of camps. The first task of this concentration camp complex was primarily the annihilation of political-ideological opponents. By contrast, productive work in the granite quarries was initially of secondary importance. The mortality among the prisoners was until 1942 one of the highest of the concentration camps within the German Reich. As in the entire concentration camp system, there was also a functional expansion in the Mauthausen camp complex in 1943. Now it was no longer just the murder of alleged or actual opponents of National Socialism that was the focus, but the labor force of the prisoners should be used as productively as possible. This change in the concentration camp system had been forced by the increasingly blatant labor shortage of the German war economy. As a result of this policy, the number of inmates in Mauthausen/Gusen and satellite camps rose from about 14,000 at the beginning of 1943 to twice the number in early 1944 and to about 73,000 in October 1944.
Mauthausen prisoners from almost all European countries were assigned by the submitting authorities and SS to different categories of detainees (priests, §175 prisoners (homosexuals), Bible Students (Jehovah's Witnesses), Gypsies, members of the Wehrmacht, asocials, temporary prisoners, Spaniards, preventive detention detainees, Soviet prisoners of war, Jews, Russian civilian workers, political prisoners) and thus numerically quantified.
Number of male inmates in the Mauthausen concentration camp and satellite camps:
15. 3. 1944 32.006
15. 3. 1945 82.486
The total number of forced labor camp prisoners, however, was much higher than the figures quoted, since on the one hand the average survival time was very low (the total number of deaths in Mauthausen and its satellite camps amounted to over 100,000) and on the other hand after 15 March 1945 still tens of thousands of inmates newly came to the camp.
Prisoners of war
Already at the end of 1939, the first groups of prisoners of war arrived in Austria. Their number was subject to strong fluctuations.
10. 9. 1940 107.413
1. 9. 1941 149.129
June 1, 1942 165,367
1. 6. 1943 154.275
1. 12. 1944 182.337
Depending on nationality and military rank, the prisoners of war were treated differently, the Soviet prisoners of war according to the racist hierarchy of the National Socialists in principle the worst, in part, were systematically murdered. According to the Nazis, they, like the Italian military internees, were not subject to the provisions of the Geneva Convention of 1929, which only required work for crews and never in the armaments industry. The prisoners of war of other nationalities were, in part, dismissed from this status, but immediately obliged to work as a "foreign worker" by applying a special law discriminating differently depending on nationality. The change of status could in individual cases mean an improvement in the situation, but there was always the danger that if they were insubordinate they would receive particularly brutal treatment in a work-training camp or would be sent to a concentration camp for major violations against the numerous regulatory provisions.
Hungarian Jews in Jewish camps in Vienna, Lower Austria, Burgenland and Styria. The first large groups of Hungarian Jews were brought to Austria in 1944. Over 15,000 were deported to a camp in Straßhof. From there, some 6,000 Jews came to Vienna, where they had to perform forced labor, guarded by the SS and the Gestapo. They worked in urban businesses, evacuated homes destroyed by bombing, carried out agricultural work, and worked in smaller groups in a number of small and large enterprises. A further 9,000 of the Hungarian Jews from Straßhof were distributed to 175 camps in Reichsgau Niederdonau and Styria, where they performed forced labor for over 250 employers.
In November 1944, approximately 50,000 Hungarian Jews were pushed to walk from Budapest to Austria and housed in 54 camps along the Hungarian border. They had to work on the construction of the so-called "southeast wall". A part came in the end of December/beginning of January 1945 to the newly installed camps of Felixdorf and Lichtenwörth, where they should not only work in fortifications works, but also in different companies. Much of the Hungarian Jews, men, women and children, were driven on death marches to Mauthausen and Gunskirchen before the Soviet forces approached. As a result, 15,000 to 18,000 people lost their lives.
Florian Freund, historian, member of the Historical Commissionof the Republic of Austria, Vienna.
Zwangsarbeit in Österreich von 1938 bis 1945
Im Zeitraum Herbst/Winter 1944 dürften ca. 800.000 In- und AusländerInnen auf dem Gebiet des heutigen Österreich zwangsweise zur Arbeit eingesetzt worden sein. Die verschiedenen Gruppen von ZwangsarbeiterInnen wurden grundsätzlich unterschiedlich behandelt, waren einem unterschiedlichen Grad von Zwang ausgesetzt und in ihrer Bewegungsfreiheit unterschiedlich eingeschränkt.1 Folgende Gruppen von Zwangsarbeitskräften sind zu unterscheiden:
Österreichische Jüdinnen und Juden in Zwangsarbeitslagern von Ende 1938 bis 1941 (z. T. bis 1945)
Die Zwangsarbeit österreichischer Juden wurde von Arbeitsämtern organisiert, nachdem ihnen jede Verdienstmöglichkeit genommen worden war. Österreichische Arbeitsämter handelten dabei aus eigener Initiative, sie benötigten keine Gesetze und Verordnungen. Die damalige „Ostmark“ hatte, wie bei Verfolgungsmaßnahmen gegen Juden insgesamt, auch in dieser Frage eine Vorreiterrolle für das gesamte Deutsche Reich. Ca. 20.000 österreichische Juden dürften Zwangsarbeit geleistet haben.
Roma und Sinti in Zwangsarbeitslagern von 1938 bis 1945
Auch im Fall der österreichischen Roma und Sinti handelten Gemeinden und Fürsorgebehörden zuerst ohne Anweisung aus Berlin. Mit der vorgeschobenen Begründung, die „arbeitsscheuen Zigeuner“ müssten zur Arbeit gezwungen werden, damit sie der Fürsorge nicht zur Last fielen, wurden Tausende von ihren Arbeitsplätzen geholt und in Zwangsarbeitslager gesperrt.
Justizhäftlinge
Leider gibt es bis heute keine Forschungsarbeit über die Justizanstalten in Österreich. Über Umfang und Art des Arbeitseinsatzes von Justizhäftlingen ist daher nichts bekannt.
Inländer- und AusländerInnen in „Arbeitserziehungslagern“
Über die in Österreich gelegenen „Arbeitserziehungslager“ (z. B. in Oberlanzendorf, Reichenau, Weyer) ist ebenfalls sehr wenig bekannt. Ihre Hauptaufgabe war die Disziplinierung der inländischen, insbesondere aber der ausländischen Arbeitskräfte. Die Haftzeit der von der Gestapo Eingewiesenen betrug einige Wochen bis Monate, bevor sie wieder an ihre alten Arbeitsplätze zurückkehren mussten. Aufgrund der großen Fluktuation kann die Zahl der von „Arbeitserziehungshaft“ betroffenen Menschen nach heutigem Forschungsstand noch nicht geschätzt werden.
Zivile AusländerInnen, von Nationalsozialisten als „Fremdarbeiter“ bezeichnet
Diese bildeten die bei weitem größte Gruppe der ZwangsarbeiterInnen auf österreichischem Gebiet. Auch bei dieser Gruppe dürfte es eine gewisse Fluktuation durch Flucht, Einweisung in Konzentrationslager und bis 1943 Abschiebung der Kranken in die Heimatländer gegeben haben. Trotz der sich ununterbrochen ändernden Erhebungsmethoden und der sich nicht mit den heutigen Bundesländern deckenden Gaugrenzen kann die Dimension der „Fremdarbeiter“beschäftigung in Österreich anhand von NS-Statistiken einigermaßen klar angegeben werden.
Anzahl der zivilen AusländerInen („Fremdarbeiter“) in der „Ostmark“:3
25. 4. 1941 128.730
10. 7. 1942 302.464
15. 11. 1943 527.590
30. 9. 1944 580.640
Der Anteil der AusländerInnen in Österreich war Ende 1943 mit durchschnittlich 23,1% wesentlich höher als im Deutschen Reich (19,7%). Er stieg bis Herbst 1944 auf 25,3% aller Beschäftigten, während der Anteil der AusländerInnen im Deutschen Reich 20,5% betrug.
KZ-Häftlinge
Das nahe Linz gelegene Doppellager Mauthausen/Gusen entwickelte sich von 1938 bzw. 1940 bis zur Befreiung von einem Mordlager mit Steinbruch zu einem komplexen, arbeitsteiligen, für Zehntausende Häftlinge tödlichen Netz von Lagern. Die erste Aufgabe dieses Konzentrationslagerkomplexes war vorwiegend die Vernichtung der politisch-ideologischen Gegner. Produktive Arbeit in den Granitsteinbrüchen hatte demgegenüber zunächst untergeordnete Bedeutung. Die Sterblichkeit unter den Häftlingen war bis 1942 eine der höchsten der Konzentrationslager innerhalb des Deutschen Reiches. Wie im gesamten KZ-System kam es auch im Lagerkomplex Mauthausen 1943 zu einer Funktionserweiterung. Nun stand nicht mehr nur der Mord an vermeintlichen oder tatsächlichen Gegnern des Nationalsozialismus im Mittelpunkt, vielmehr sollte auch die Arbeitskraft der Häftlinge möglichst produktiv genutzt werden. Diese Veränderung des KZ-Systems war durch den immer eklatanter werdenden Arbeitskräftemangel der deutschen Kriegswirtschaft erzwungen worden. Infolge dieser Politik stieg auch in Mauthausen/Gusen und Außenlagern die Zahl der Häftlinge von ca. 14.000 Personen Anfang 1943 auf die doppelte Zahl Anfang 1944 und auf ca. 73.000 im Oktober 1944.
Die aus fast allen Ländern Europas stammenden Häftlinge des KZ Mauthausen wurden von den einweisenden Behörden und der SS verschiendenen Häftlingskategorien zugeteilt (Geistliche, § 175-Häftlinge (Homosexuelle), Bibelforscher (Zeugen Jehovas), Zigeuner, Wehrmachtsangehörige, Asoziale, Befristete Vorbeugehäftlinge, Spanier,
Sicherheitsverwahrungshäftlinge, sowjetische Kriegsgefangene, Juden, russische Zivilarbeiter, politische Schutzhäftlinge) und dadurch zahlenmäßig erfasst.
Anzahl männlicher Häftlinge im KZ Mauthausen und Außenlagern:
15. 3. 1944 32.006
15. 3. 1945 82.486
Die Gesamtzahl der Zwangsarbeit leistenden KZ-Häftlinge war allerdings wesentlich höher als die genannten Zahlen, da einerseits die durchschnittliche Überlebensdauer sehr gering war (die Gesamtzahl der Toten in Mauthausen und seinen Außenlagern belief sich auf über 100.000) und andererseits nach dem 15. März 1945 noch zehntausende Häftlinge neu in das Lager kamen.
Kriegsgefangene
Schon Ende 1939 trafen die ersten Gruppen von Kriegsgefangenen in Österreich ein. Ihre Zahl unterlag starken Schwankungen.
10. 9. 1940 107.413
1. 9. 1941 149.129
1. 6. 1942 165.367
1. 6. 1943 154.275
1. 12. 1944 182.337
Je nach Nationalität und militärischem Rang wurden die Kriegsgefangenen unterschiedlich behandelt, die sowjetischen Kriegsgefangenen entsprechend der rassistischen Hierarchie der Nationalsozialisten grundsätzlich am schlechtesten, z. T. wurden sie systematisch ermordet. Nach NS-Ansicht unterlagen sie, wie auch die italienischen Militärinternierten, nicht den Bestimmungen der Genfer Konvention von 1929, die nur für Mannschaften Arbeitspflicht vorsah und niemals in der Rüstungsindustrie. Die Kriegsgefangenen anderer Nationalitäten wurden z. T. aus diesem Status entlassen, aber sofort als „Fremdarbeiter“ unter Anwendung eines je nach Nationalität unterschiedlich diskriminierenden Sonderrechtes dienstverpflichtet. Der Statuswechsel konnte im Einzelfall eine Besserung der Situation bedeuten, es drohte aber immer die Gefahr, dass sie bei Unbotmäßigkeit eine besonders brutale Behandlung in einem Arbeitserziehungslager erfuhren oder bei größeren Verstößen gegen die zahlreichen reglementierenden Vorschriften in ein Konzentrationslager eingeliefert wurden.
Ungarische Juden und Jüdinnen in Judenlagern in Wien, Niederösterreich, Burgenland und der Steiermark.Die ersten großen Gruppen ungarischer Juden wurden 1944 nach Österreich gebracht. Über 15.000 wurden in ein Lager in Straßhof deportiert. Von dort kamen ca. 6000 Juden nach Wien, wo sie, von SS und Gestapo bewacht, Zwangsarbeit leisten mussten. Sie arbeiteten bei städtischen Wirtschaftsbetrieben, bei der Räumung von durch Bombenangriffe zerstörten Häusern, führten landwirtschaftliche Arbeiten aus und arbeiteten in kleineren Gruppen in einer Reihe von Klein- und Großbetrieben. Weitere 9000 der ungarischen Juden aus Straßhof wurden im Reichsgau Niederdonau und Steiermark auf 175 Lager verteilt, wo sie bei über 250 Arbeitgebern Zwangsarbeit verrichteten.
Ca. 50.000 ungarische Juden wurden im November 1944 in Fußmärschen von Budapest nach Österreich getrieben und in 54 Lagern entlang der ungarischen Grenze untergebracht. Sie mussten beim Bau des sog. „Südostwalls“ arbeiten. Ein Teil kam in die Ende Dezember/Anfang Jänner 1945 neu eingerichteten Lager Felixdorf und Lichtenwörth, wo sie nicht nur bei Schanzarbeiten, sondern auch bei verschiedenen Betrieben arbeiten sollten. Ein Großteil der ungarischen Juden, Männer, Frauen und Kinder, wurde vor Herannahen der sowjetischen Streitkräfte in Todesmärschen nach Mauthausen und Gunskirchen getrieben. Dabei kamen 15.000 bis 18.000 Menschen ums Leben.
Florian Freund, Historiker, Mitglied der Historikerkommission
der Republik Österreich, Wien.
Child laborer Sadie Pfeiffer tends a thread-spinning frame in a North Carolina textile mill. The height of the machine compared to Sadie, along with the enormous distance between her and the girl in the background, emphasizes the minute size and resulting vulnerability of the child in a dangerous factory environment. Photo by Lewis W. Hine via Wikimedia.
Harper's Weekly May 19, 1906
The Human Drama at San Francisco
The Long Day
The Eighteenth of April in San Francisco
by Cecil Chard
“It is extraordinary how cheerfully we are all accepting the inevitable. Millionaires, shop girls, day laborers, Chinamen — we stand and receive rations. For the time being, we are at city of beggars, but food is plentiful, and now we are able to procure drinking water.” —from the author’s letter
Morning
We had been to the opera the night before to hear Caruso and Fremstad in “Carmen”. The audience was a brilliant one, the Grand Opera House crowded to the roof. We saw familiar faces everywhere and smiled in greeting, with a careless assurance of seeing them all again, on the morrow perhaps. After the opera, we went to the Palm Garden of the Palace Hotel, and lingered over our ices, comparing Fremstad to Calve, with a deep earnestness which we waste upon immaterial things. Then we strolled homeward through the silent streets, commenting on the quiet, star lit beauty of the night, and finally we dropped to sleep with the haunting measures of Bizet’s music in our ears.
There was no beginning to the tragedy. Peaceful slumber was exchanged, by a process too swift for thought, for chaos. One instance of rigid suspense, the struggle of a dreamer in the grip of a horrible nightmare, and then a leap to consciousness, the fierce realization of danger. A thunderous roar is in the ears, so deafening that it is hard to distinguish the crash of furniture, the fall of pictures from the wall; there is a sickening duration of motion, walls, floor, ceiling rock and sway. Everything that a moment before had been inert and motionless is suddenly possessed with hideous life. Books are flying forward from the shelves, plaster fills the air, the chandeliers twist and drop, a piano moves across a wide space with a jingle of notes. In every familiar objects is the threat of death. Fear is the only sensation left in the universe that wheels and shakes like a storm tossed vessel. And escape to the street seems for a moment beyond the wildest hope! Over fallen furniture we go, bare feet cut by splintered glass, hammering at doors that resist, to the rooms from which the best beloved must be dragged, half fainting or paralyzed with fright – and down, down, out of the house.
To gain the street is only to encounter new perils. Here, too, instantaneous terror springs to life. A dreadful grimace controls the familiar faces of the little world we know. Safety is nowhere. It is raining bricks and chimneys, the towers of St. Dominic’s are swaying against the high blue of the sky. The next Instant the air is thick with the dust of flying fragments. We see is each other and run, blindly, madly, but the ground under our feet rises up, the great paving blocks sink – a little low building to which we would go for shelter slides back a foot. Three blocks away, up the steep hills, is a public park, and here at last we pause and take a refuge, a crowd of panic stricken, breathless, speechless people. We wait for a few minutes and unspeakable dread for what may come next. Renewed shock sends us higher up, and at last we relax and stand trembling in the chill morning air.
As in all instances even have terrible tragedy, the moment is not without its humor, grotesque and grim. People have sprung from their beds, they have seized anything in their wild flight; they stand in excited groups as unconscious as children of their remarkable appearance. One woman has had the sleeve of her night dress torn from her shoulder, her feet are bare, she describes her experiences to a group of men. She is quite evidently a woman of refinement, her gestures are quiet, her voice is sweet, she is quite self-possessed. We stand close together, a group of absolute strangers, and smile at each other in attempted courage, with stiff lips. The world stands still again, all that is left of that familiar world, but all sense of security is gone.
From the high hill on which we stand we can see the splendid city stretching to the foothills, and we try to reassure ourselves but sick despair grips us. The sky is dun-colored, and through a pile of smoke and dust the sun burns red.
The city looks like a besieged town, shattered by shot and shell. Is that the dome of City Hall we see, hanging like a birdcage over the fallen walls. What has happened to that row of houses one street below us? Their brick foundations are cracked in every direction, the empty window frames sling crookedly against beams that have snapped off short. Here are a roof has fallen in, there the side of a house hangs into the street; a flight of granite steps stands far out into the sidewalk, the door to which they once led has sunk 5 feet below. The spaces between the houses is a tangle of twisted wires of tipsy telegraph poles.
And what a strange light is everywhere – sunlight through a yellow haze, a heavy mist. – And below us – is it mist or steam that rises thick and curiously dark as from a huge cauldron. Now the sun is obscured, the distance is blotted out, and the black mist moves, rises – something leaps up, shines like a sword blade. From someone in our little crowd comes one word in an awed whisper: “Fire!”
Noon
The morning has gone, somehow the interminable hours have dragged away. The air is stifling, the heat intense, but, mercifully, there is no wind. At the merest breath of air we shudder and turn our eyes to the curtain of smoke that hangs across the sky and hides from us the extent of our misfortune. Nevertheless, realization of the magnitude of the disaster deepens from hour to hour. We know that the fire rages in twenty places, that men are fighting it desperately without the water for which we already thirst.
With every moment some new peril is revealed. The live wires of the trolley lines have dropped into the street, there is a penetrating odor of escaping gas. A man clatters by on horseback, shouting: “martial law has been declared – the regulars are out; light no fires in the houses – by order of General Funston.”
From the first hour there has been no water. There is a run on bakers and groceries for provisions — bread — candles, tinned meet, soda water. The men serve their customers on floors swimming with oil, tomato catsup, wine, and broken glass. They do not ask exorbitant prices. In many cases they give without demanding payment. Instances of extortion are rare except for conveyances with which to remove invalids and household effects from the region of greatest danger.
It is incredible with what swiftness rumors become facts, and still time creeps along on leaden feet, though occurrences multiply and the experiences of a lifetime are crowded into an hour. We have eaten nothing since the night before, but we know no sensation of hunger. The fate of those who are nearest and dearest is still shrouded in darkness. There is no way to discover it – we are cut off from the world!
When from time to time a smoke-blackened figure approaches it is only to report further calamity. This or that public building is gone, one street after another destroyed; now the fire has engulfed a whole section. Soldiers and firemen, millionaires and thieves are fighting desperately. Every now and then there is a terrific explosion. They are blowing up whole blocks with dynamite in the vain hope of saving the city.
The most extraordinary factor in this unprecedented experience is a general calmness, the self-control exhibited. Perhaps the earthquake has exhausted her powers of sensation. Faces show the strain, but there is no complaint. The lesson has been too soul-searching in it’s effect. All have learned the value of mere possessions. They strive to save them instinctively, but failing, they hear with entire composure, that fortune, home, factory, offices, have been swept away. The streets grow more and more crowded as the fire drives the refugees to the hills. A never ending stream of vehicles passes, motors flash by, carriages, express wagons, undertakers’ wagons, and ice carts laden with people and their hastily snatched belongings rumble on. It is pitiable to see solitary old women tottering along under loads that would not tax the strength of a child. Women in opera cloaks drag trunks along the earthquake torn pavements. Bands of Chinese, dazed and helpless, drift along aimlessly. It is incredible what foolish things people have seized and still cling too. It is related that in the fall of the Emporium, a huge structure on Market Street, a man was only held back by force from the blazing ruins. He struggled in the arms of his captors, protesting that he had lost his hat, that he must find his hat. One woman has a large birdcage from which the birds have flown. Whole families pass, in one instance a pet donkey is being led along, free from burden, while even the child in arms clutches a handkerchief of treasures.
The unfortunate have lost their wits. The ring of the ambulance bells and the toot of the automobiles that have been impressed into the service of the Red Cross hardly scatter the crowds, that move on, talking, gesticulating, in wildest excitement. There is little to be done, but that little is accomplished with immense risk and difficulty. Every nerve, every sense is strained for the latest word from those who return, like exhausted soldiers from the front. When will this refuge be declared unsafe, when will we be compelled to move on. The stories that are whispered in low tones, so that the general multitude may not be made more anxious, are harrowing. Stories of women wandering into the ruins, clasping dead children in their arms, of men gone mad, a fireman crushed, of sick and wounded crushed under falling walls, stories of soldiers who have exceeded their orders, of unfortunate civilians who, upon a refusal to leave their treasures, have been shot. They tell, too, of the swift retribution that overtakes those who, under the cover of the prevailing excitement, attempt to rob, to loot, or even to touch the possessions of others. In one place the bodies of a thieves lie where the bullets have dropped them.
And as the sun sank slowly in the west the huge clouds of smoke that all day had obscured the scene, changed to rose color, and, in the reversal of all things, the day that had been darkened by the smoke was exchanged gradually for the wild illumination of the night.
Night
The terraced hillside park had the look of a bivouac. Nondescript shelters, made of blankets, of tablecloths, spread on broom sticks, of women’s opera wraps, of valuable Indian rugs protected those who were fortunate enough to have them. Many had covers and pillows, those who had nothing lay on the ground, or on the broad stone steps along the park walkways. There was not a murmur to be heard, only a child wailed loudly for a forgotten doll. Speculation, even, had given way to a stoical indifference. People spoke little, in low tones. The stillness was acute. Overawed by the terrible magnificence of the spectacle being enacted in the east and along the whole plain to the southern horizon, it was, strangely enough, possible for one to think, to form plans, even to hope– while the work of wholesale annihilation went on.
Nature now and then indulges in pure melodrama. A sea of liquid fire lay beneath us, the sky above it seemed to burn at white heat, deepening into gold, into orange, spreading into a fierce glare. The smoke and gathered into one gigantic cloud that hung motionless, sharply outlined against a vast field of exquisite starry blue. The streets were caverns of darkness, but here in there, from the impenetrable gloom, three or four houses seem to start out, like an illuminated card every cornice, every window shining with reflected blaze.
And as the night advanced it grew cold, and men and women walked up and down between the lines of sleepers, stretching their stiff limbs. Even at midnight, the attempt to sleep was abandoned. Eyes, bloodshot, with weariness and the pain from the constant rain of cinders, tried to turn away from the fire, but it held them with dreadful fascination. How it slipped in and out, flowing like a river, engulfing here a church, there a block of houses! A steeple, flaring high like a torch, toppled and fell in a shower of sparks. The strong square of an office building, black one instant against that ever moving stream of fire, flush the next, shot through and through with flame.
The fire burned on and destroyed and blackened, but it kindled a flame that illuminated the Western world —the spark of a generous kindness that lives in the hearts of the multitude. This is been fanned into a fire at which the victims of this great disaster may find warmth and renewed courage. Hope remains and an undaunted spirit. The eyes that have watched ceaselessly through the night look out over a field of desolation, and, without flinching, face the dawn of another day.
No. 1 of 5
Germany - Lubeck: Mediaeval Courtyards and Alleyways.
Lübeck's day-laborers and porters once lived in small houses crowded together in courtyards surrounded by residential blocks. Access was through small alleyways.
Similar to other big cities in the late Middle Ages and the early modern age, Lübeck had its share of day-laborers and porters. They mostly lived in "Buden" - small houses, often little more than huts - that were crowded together on corner lots, behind town houses or in the yards surrounded by residential blocks. There are hardly any medieval Buden left today, as they were not built out of stone until the mid-19th century.
As the general population grew in the second half of the 15th century, the number of residents in Lübeck increased by about a quarter as well. The merchants, the well-to-do middle class and the church were quick to realize the fountain of wealth that a house with a built-up yard represented. It was left up to the landlord just how many families he would squeeze into the tiny flats, and how many Buden he would have built behind his house. The smallest of these buildings, at Hartengrube No. 36, was barely 10 feet wide, 13 feet deep and 15 feet high (to the roof ridge). There were more than 180 passageways in Lübeck at the close of the 17th century. Today, some 90 passageways still exist. www.historicgermany.com/3505.html
(Flickr Explore Interestingness no.492 on 9th August, 2008.)
A laborer carrying baskets loaded with collected sulfur makes his way up the 200m (656 feet) deep active volcanic crater of Ijen volcano in Indonesia's East Java province, May 26, 2010. Photo by Tim Chong
Laborer apprentice Yurvina Hernandez introduces President Joe Biden before his remarks on Infrastructure Act investments at the Metro D Line extension transit project site, Thursday, October 13, 2022, in Los Angeles. (Official White House Photo by Adam Schultz)
Item 106409, Fleets and Facilities Department Imagebank Collection (Record Series 0207-01), Seattle Municipal Archives.
Laborer heating aqua regia -- a mixture of 5% pure nitric acid and 75% pure hydrochloric acid -- a mixture that will dissolve gold. Without any respiratory protection workers inhale acid fumes, chlorine and sulphur dioxide gas all day as they swirl computer chips removed from circuit boards in acid to collect tiny amounts of gold. The sludges from the process are dumped directly into the river.
For uses forbidden by the license terms, contact us.
Newt Gingrich - Casually pepper-spraying lobbyist treating a child laborer to some seasoning.
Read about it in the LA Times "Newt Gingrich expands on his support for child labor"
Newton Leroy Gingrich aka Newt Gingrich was 58th Speaker of the United States House of Representatives and represented Georgia's 6th district as a Republican. He is a potential Republican presidential candidate for 2012.
The source image for this caricature of Newt Gingrich is a Creative Commons licensed image from Gage Skidmore's flickr photostream. The source image for the child labor background is a photo by Lewis Wickes Hine titled, "Boys in Packing Room. S. W. Brown Mfg. Co., Evansville, Ind," available via the Library of Congress. The source image for the Pepper Spray Cop is a photo by Louise Macabitas originally posted to Reddit.
Persistent URL: digital.lib.muohio.edu/u?/tradecards,4061
Subject (TGM): Coffee industry; Women; Laborers; Fuelwood gathering; Plants; Factories;
A child prostitute in India, children as young as 6 yrs old are being sold to sex trafficking groups.
A Freak of the Earthquake--the statue of Agassiz, which pitched headlong from the Pedestal on Top of the Zoology Building and imbedded itself in the Pavement. On the Right may be seen the Ruins of the new Library Building, and on the left the Harmon Gymnasium.
Harper's Weekly May 19, 1906
The Human Drama at San Francisco
The Long Day
The Eighteenth of April in San Francisco
by Cecil Chard
“It is extraordinary how cheerfully we are all accepting the inevitable. Millionaires, shop girls, day laborers, Chinamen — we stand and receive rations. For the time being, we are at city of beggars, but food is plentiful, and now we are able to procure drinking water.” —from the author’s letter
Morning
We had been to the opera the night before to hear Caruso and Fremstad in “Carmen”. The audience was a brilliant one, the Grand Opera House crowded to the roof. We saw familiar faces everywhere and smiled in greeting, with a careless assurance of seeing them all again, on the morrow perhaps. After the opera, we went to the Palm Garden of the Palace Hotel, and lingered over our ices, comparing Fremstad to Calve, with a deep earnestness which we waste upon immaterial things. Then we strolled homeward through the silent streets, commenting on the quiet, star lit beauty of the night, and finally we dropped to sleep with the haunting measures of Bizet’s music in our ears.
There was no beginning to the tragedy. Peaceful slumber was exchanged, by a process too swift for thought, for chaos. One instance of rigid suspense, the struggle of a dreamer in the grip of a horrible nightmare, and then a leap to consciousness, the fierce realization of danger. A thunderous roar is in the ears, so deafening that it is hard to distinguish the crash of furniture, the fall of pictures from the wall; there is a sickening duration of motion, walls, floor, ceiling rock and sway. Everything that a moment before had been inert and motionless is suddenly possessed with hideous life. Books are flying forward from the shelves, plaster fills the air, the chandeliers twist and drop, a piano moves across a wide space with a jingle of notes. In every familiar objects is the threat of death. Fear is the only sensation left in the universe that wheels and shakes like a storm tossed vessel. And escape to the street seems for a moment beyond the wildest hope! Over fallen furniture we go, bare feet cut by splintered glass, hammering at doors that resist, to the rooms from which the best beloved must be dragged, half fainting or paralyzed with fright – and down, down, out of the house.
To gain the street is only to encounter new perils. Here, too, instantaneous terror springs to life. A dreadful grimace controls the familiar faces of the little world we know. Safety is nowhere. It is raining bricks and chimneys, the towers of St. Dominic’s are swaying against the high blue of the sky. The next Instant the air is thick with the dust of flying fragments. We see is each other and run, blindly, madly, but the ground under our feet rises up, the great paving blocks sink – a little low building to which we would go for shelter slides back a foot. Three blocks away, up the steep hills, is a public park, and here at last we pause and take a refuge, a crowd of panic stricken, breathless, speechless people. We wait for a few minutes and unspeakable dread for what may come next. Renewed shock sends us higher up, and at last we relax and stand trembling in the chill morning air.
As in all instances even have terrible tragedy, the moment is not without its humor, grotesque and grim. People have sprung from their beds, they have seized anything in their wild flight; they stand in excited groups as unconscious as children of their remarkable appearance. One woman has had the sleeve of her night dress torn from her shoulder, her feet are bare, she describes her experiences to a group of men. She is quite evidently a woman of refinement, her gestures are quiet, her voice is sweet, she is quite self-possessed. We stand close together, a group of absolute strangers, and smile at each other in attempted courage, with stiff lips. The world stands still again, all that is left of that familiar world, but all sense of security is gone.
From the high hill on which we stand we can see the splendid city stretching to the foothills, and we try to reassure ourselves but sick despair grips us. The sky is dun-colored, and through a pile of smoke and dust the sun burns red.
The city looks like a besieged town, shattered by shot and shell. Is that the dome of City Hall we see, hanging like a birdcage over the fallen walls. What has happened to that row of houses one street below us? Their brick foundations are cracked in every direction, the empty window frames sling crookedly against beams that have snapped off short. Here are a roof has fallen in, there the side of a house hangs into the street; a flight of granite steps stands far out into the sidewalk, the door to which they once led has sunk 5 feet below. The spaces between the houses is a tangle of twisted wires of tipsy telegraph poles.
And what a strange light is everywhere – sunlight through a yellow haze, a heavy mist. – And below us – is it mist or steam that rises thick and curiously dark as from a huge cauldron. Now the sun is obscured, the distance is blotted out, and the black mist moves, rises – something leaps up, shines like a sword blade. From someone in our little crowd comes one word in an awed whisper: “Fire!”
Noon
The morning has gone, somehow the interminable hours have dragged away. The air is stifling, the heat intense, but, mercifully, there is no wind. At the merest breath of air we shudder and turn our eyes to the curtain of smoke that hangs across the sky and hides from us the extent of our misfortune. Nevertheless, realization of the magnitude of the disaster deepens from hour to hour. We know that the fire rages in twenty places, that men are fighting it desperately without the water for which we already thirst.
With every moment some new peril is revealed. The live wires of the trolley lines have dropped into the street, there is a penetrating odor of escaping gas. A man clatters by on horseback, shouting: “martial law has been declared – the regulars are out; light no fires in the houses – by order of General Funston.”
From the first hour there has been no water. There is a run on bakers and groceries for provisions — bread — candles, tinned meet, soda water. The men serve their customers on floors swimming with oil, tomato catsup, wine, and broken glass. They do not ask exorbitant prices. In many cases they give without demanding payment. Instances of extortion are rare except for conveyances with which to remove invalids and household effects from the region of greatest danger.
It is incredible with what swiftness rumors become facts, and still time creeps along on leaden feet, though occurrences multiply and the experiences of a lifetime are crowded into an hour. We have eaten nothing since the night before, but we know no sensation of hunger. The fate of those who are nearest and dearest is still shrouded in darkness. There is no way to discover it – we are cut off from the world!
When from time to time a smoke-blackened figure approaches it is only to report further calamity. This or that public building is gone, one street after another destroyed; now the fire has engulfed a whole section. Soldiers and firemen, millionaires and thieves are fighting desperately. Every now and then there is a terrific explosion. They are blowing up whole blocks with dynamite in the vain hope of saving the city.
The most extraordinary factor in this unprecedented experience is a general calmness, the self-control exhibited. Perhaps the earthquake has exhausted her powers of sensation. Faces show the strain, but there is no complaint. The lesson has been too soul-searching in it’s effect. All have learned the value of mere possessions. They strive to save them instinctively, but failing, they hear with entire composure, that fortune, home, factory, offices, have been swept away. The streets grow more and more crowded as the fire drives the refugees to the hills. A never ending stream of vehicles passes, motors flash by, carriages, express wagons, undertakers’ wagons, and ice carts laden with people and their hastily snatched belongings rumble on. It is pitiable to see solitary old women tottering along under loads that would not tax the strength of a child. Women in opera cloaks drag trunks along the earthquake torn pavements. Bands of Chinese, dazed and helpless, drift along aimlessly. It is incredible what foolish things people have seized and still cling too. It is related that in the fall of the Emporium, a huge structure on Market Street, a man was only held back by force from the blazing ruins. He struggled in the arms of his captors, protesting that he had lost his hat, that he must find his hat. One woman has a large birdcage from which the birds have flown. Whole families pass, in one instance a pet donkey is being led along, free from burden, while even the child in arms clutches a handkerchief of treasures.
The unfortunate have lost their wits. The ring of the ambulance bells and the toot of the automobiles that have been impressed into the service of the Red Cross hardly scatter the crowds, that move on, talking, gesticulating, in wildest excitement. There is little to be done, but that little is accomplished with immense risk and difficulty. Every nerve, every sense is strained for the latest word from those who return, like exhausted soldiers from the front. When will this refuge be declared unsafe, when will we be compelled to move on. The stories that are whispered in low tones, so that the general multitude may not be made more anxious, are harrowing. Stories of women wandering into the ruins, clasping dead children in their arms, of men gone mad, a fireman crushed, of sick and wounded crushed under falling walls, stories of soldiers who have exceeded their orders, of unfortunate civilians who, upon a refusal to leave their treasures, have been shot. They tell, too, of the swift retribution that overtakes those who, under the cover of the prevailing excitement, attempt to rob, to loot, or even to touch the possessions of others. In one place the bodies of a thieves lie where the bullets have dropped them.
And as the sun sank slowly in the west the huge clouds of smoke that all day had obscured the scene, changed to rose color, and, in the reversal of all things, the day that had been darkened by the smoke was exchanged gradually for the wild illumination of the night.
Night
The terraced hillside park had the look of a bivouac. Nondescript shelters, made of blankets, of tablecloths, spread on broom sticks, of women’s opera wraps, of valuable Indian rugs protected those who were fortunate enough to have them. Many had covers and pillows, those who had nothing lay on the ground, or on the broad stone steps along the park walkways. There was not a murmur to be heard, only a child wailed loudly for a forgotten doll. Speculation, even, had given way to a stoical indifference. People spoke little, in low tones. The stillness was acute. Overawed by the terrible magnificence of the spectacle being enacted in the east and along the whole plain to the southern horizon, it was, strangely enough, possible for one to think, to form plans, even to hope– while the work of wholesale annihilation went on.
Nature now and then indulges in pure melodrama. A sea of liquid fire lay beneath us, the sky above it seemed to burn at white heat, deepening into gold, into orange, spreading into a fierce glare. The smoke and gathered into one gigantic cloud that hung motionless, sharply outlined against a vast field of exquisite starry blue. The streets were caverns of darkness, but here in there, from the impenetrable gloom, three or four houses seem to start out, like an illuminated card every cornice, every window shining with reflected blaze.
And as the night advanced it grew cold, and men and women walked up and down between the lines of sleepers, stretching their stiff limbs. Even at midnight, the attempt to sleep was abandoned. Eyes, bloodshot, with weariness and the pain from the constant rain of cinders, tried to turn away from the fire, but it held them with dreadful fascination. How it slipped in and out, flowing like a river, engulfing here a church, there a block of houses! A steeple, flaring high like a torch, toppled and fell in a shower of sparks. The strong square of an office building, black one instant against that ever moving stream of fire, flush the next, shot through and through with flame.
The fire burned on and destroyed and blackened, but it kindled a flame that illuminated the Western world —the spark of a generous kindness that lives in the hearts of the multitude. This is been fanned into a fire at which the victims of this great disaster may find warmth and renewed courage. Hope remains and an undaunted spirit. The eyes that have watched ceaselessly through the night look out over a field of desolation, and, without flinching, face the dawn of another day.
Foxburst Farm
‘Mystery of the Tower’
Foxburst Farm Water Tower AKA “Vulture Tower” “Tower of Death”
In close proximity to the site of the Little House stands "an enormous square-sided water tower and adjacent one-story building projecting horizontally from its north elevation." (As described in a July, 2002 report from the Cultural Resource Consulting Group about the property.) The study goes on to say that the water tower and attached farm building "are an eclectic combination of styles that include "Italianate, Federalist and Craftsman. Referencing a New England lighthouse with its obelisk form and Wooden Clapboard siding, the windowed tower is crowned by Italianate brackets (that) support a flat, overhanging eave that holds a smaller box-like windowed structure which provides the base for a 1 1/2 story, Federalist-inspired clapboard cabin-like shell that was meant to hide the water tank at the top of the tower."
The age and exact purpose of this intriguing tower is unknown, but it was in existence when Florence L. Haupt purchased the property. Her namesake granddaughter (Florence Haupt Teiger) said that the tower was in a decrepit state even then, and recalls that her brother used to chase her up to the rickety tower steps when they were kids. She also remembers the sight of pigeons roosting at its top.
Ira Haupt II recalled that the first floor of the tower held general farm implements, and a laborer was housed on its 2nd floor. A Caretaker (called Superintendent) of the property also lived in the cottage, which was attached to the tower. However, during World War II, Haupt noted that there was no superintendent, and the cottage was rented out to Oakhurst's police chief-Chief Eisele. He kept his riding horse, called Pearl Harbor, in their cow barn. (It was through Chief Eisele that Florence got her love of riding.)
Stuart Haupt served as an Air Raid Warden during WWII. He would go out to Deal Road when the siren blew. Because of the gasoline shortage during the War, the Haupts spent two years (1943-44) living in New York City.
Foxburst Farm Water Tower aka “Vulture Tower” “Tower OF Death”
The water tower was constructed to resemble a New England lighthouse. The property was purchased by then Western Electric Company and subsequently AT&T in 1919. Refereed as the Deal Test site. Ship-to-shore wireless communications was tested and perfected here after the Titanic disaster. This is also the place where Sputnik was first discovered. In 1960, the army transmitted the first photograph via facsimile “fax” to Puerto Rico using a satellite. In 1823 the first Mastodon remains in New Jersey were found here." ` by Dustin Farnum
The Tower itself has been there for quite some time. It predates the Haupt's who owned the farm from the 1930's on. Originally it was a water tower to supply the farm. During the 2nd World War, it was occupied by the army to watch the coast. Before the 2nd World War, the property had been a working farm, but because of the War and the shortage of men to work it, that became a problem and the farm was switched over to more of specialized growing and they had large greenhouses erected behind the tower (They were on the site when the Township took over the property, but were in such bad shape the Township had no choice but the tear them down). As public water became available, the need for a water tower decreased and it was changed over to just a tower.
The water basin was removed and the viewing tower that you see today was built. At that time the Towers use also changed. It was a Caretaker’s residence for the property and many people lived there over the years. In the 1960's and 70's, the Township's Police Chief lived in the Tower house. As a kid, I remember (the 1960's) that the front of the farm was covered by the pine trees that are there today, except they went down to the ground, and there was a fence along the road. You could only see down the driveway, and the only thing you could see was the tower.
The three granite slabs come from the "Great Road" of the National Socialist Reich Party grounds in Nuremberg. They were treated by forced laborers and prisoners in concentration camps and are speaking witnesses.
Die drei Granitplatten stammen von der "Großen Straße" des Nationalsozialistischen Reichsparteigeländes in Nürnberg. Sie wurden von Zwangsarbeitern und Gefangenen in Konzentrationslagern bearbeitet und sind sprechende Zeugen.
Academic High School (Vienna)
(Pictures you can see by clicking on the link at the end of page!)
Beethovenplatz
school form - general secondary school (high school humanistic)
Founded in 1553
♁ coordinates 48 ° 12 '5 " N, 16 ° 22 ' 34" OKoordinaten : 48 ° 12 '5 " N, 16 ° 22' 34" E | |
Support public
About 610 students (4 April 2010)
About 60 teachers (4 April 2010)
Website www.akg -wien.at
The Academic Gymnasium in Vienna was founded in 1553 and is the oldest high school in Vienna. The school orientation is humanistic and compared with other traditional high schools of the city rather liberal. The current number of students is about 610 students, divided on 24 classes.
History
16th and 17th Century
At the time of the foundation of the high school, the University of Vienna had the privilege to decide about the estabilishment of educational institutions. In March of 1553, the Jesuits received permission from the university to the founding of the Academic Gymnasium.
The primary objectives of the exclusively Jesuit teaching corps was the provision of religious instruction, the practice of the Catholic faith and the strengthening of the religious attitude of the students. The Academic Gymnasium was located at the time of its inception in the Dominican monastery opposite the then university. The former language was Latin.
18th and 19 Century
The dissolution of the Jesuit order in 1773 by Pope Clement XIV led to a conversion of the teaching staff and educational goals. The new focus was on history, mathematics, German, literature and geography. The management of the school was transferred to the Piarist. Subsequently the school was somewhat cosmopolitan conducted and the spirit of the Enlightenment prevailed both among teachers and among the students. Likewise, new didactic and educational measures, and later the school fees were introduced.
As a result of high school reform in 1849, the eight-year school with the final matriculation examination was developed. The humanistic aspects crystallized out more and more, the focus of the lesson were mainly linguistic-historical, mathematical and scientific aspects not being neglected. The first high school graduates made their final exams at the end of the school year 1850 /51.
Academic High School before the vaulting of the Vienna River (Wienfluß - as small as possible)
Since 1866 the building of the Academic Gymnasium is located on Beethoven place in the first district of Vienna. It was built by Friedrich von Schmidt, who also designed the City Hall, in his typical neo-Gothic style.
The first students (female ones) gratuated in 1886 and 1887 (every year an external student), since the school year 1896/97 there were almost every year high school graduates, a general admission of girls there since 1949 /50.
20th Century
The years following the First World War were extremely distressing for the high school, because there was a very narrow escape for not being closed, the cause was a sharp decline in students. The educational institution was menaced from losing its good reputation and attractiveness.
GuentherZ 2007-02-22 2707 Wr Akad Gym plaque Jewish students and Lehrer.jpg
After the "Anschluss" of Austria in 1938, the Jewish students had to leave the school, they were 28 April 1938 transfered, some of the students but had logged off before this date. The total loss amounted to nearly 50 percent of the students because the school from all Viennese schools was attended most of all of children of Jewish families. Today, several plaques remember on the outer facade of the high school the transfer and the horrors of Nazism. A known victim of that action was the future Nobel laureate Walter Kohn, he had to leave school in the 5th class.
Wolfgang Wolfring (1925-2001) popularized the high school from 1960 as the site of classical Greek drama performances in ancient Greek original language. Annually took place performances of the classical Greek dramatic literature, among them, King Oedipus, Oedipus at Colonus and Philoctetes of Sophocles, the Oresteia of Aeschylus and The Trojan Women and Alcestis of Euripides. Protagonists of these performances were later Lawyers Josef and Eduard Wegrostek, Liliana Nelska, Doris Dornetshuber, Gerhard Tötschinger, but also in smaller roles Gabriel Barylli, Paulus Manker, Konstantin Schenk and others.
Over the years the school acquired the old reputation back and enjoyed high access rates. More and more emphasis has been placed on humanistic education, which has been demonstrated mainly by the wide range of languages, school theater performances at a high level and numerous musical events of the school choir the public in general as well.
21th Century
The focus are still on a broad linguistic foundation, which also includes training in languages such as Latin or Greek. The school offers both French and English from the first grade. The other of the two languages begins as early as the 2nd class.
In addition to this a wide range of projects are organized and voluntary activities offered. The goal of the Academic Gymnasium is the general education, which in turn should prepare for a subsequent university study.
One problem is the shortage of space of the school. Since there's a large demand for school places, the school house for financial reasons and such the monument preservation not expandable, not for all admission solicitors school places are available.
Known students and graduates
The Academic High School has produced a large number of public figures in its history:
Birth year before 1800
Ignaz Franz Castelli (1781-1862), writer
Wilhelm Ritter von Haidinger (1795-1871), geologist
Stanislaus Kostka (1550-1568), Catholic saint
Leopold Kupelwieser (1796-1862), painter
Joseph Othmar Rauscher (1797-1875), Archbishop of Vienna
Franz Schubert (1797-1828), Composer
Johann Carl Smirsch (1793-1869), painter
Birth year 1800-1849
Alexander Freiherr von Bach (1813-1893), lawyer and politician
Moritz Benedikt (1835-1920), a neurologist
Nikolaus Dumba (1830-1900), industrialist and art patron
Franz Serafin Exner (1802-1853), philosopher
Cajetan Felder (1814-1894), Mayor of Vienna
Adolf Ficker (1816-1880), statistician
Anton Josef Gruscha (1820-1911), Archbishop of Vienna
Christoph Hartung von Hartungen (1849-1917), physician
Carl Haslinger (1816-1868), music publisher
Gustav Heider (1819-1897), Art History
Joseph Hellmesberger (1828-1893), Kapellmeister (chapel master)
Hyrtl Joseph (1810-1894), anatomist
Friedrich Kaiser (1814-1874), actor
Theodor von Karajan (1810-1873), German scholar
Alfred von Kremer (1828-1889), orientalist and politician
Kürnberger Ferdinand (1821-1879), writer
Henry of Levitschnigg (1810-1862), writer and journalist
Robert von Lieben (1848-1913), physicist and inventor
Karl Ludwig von Littrow (1811-1877), Astronomer
Titu Maiorescu (1840-1917), Romanian Prime Minister
Johann Nestroy (1801-1862), actor, poet
Ignaz von Plener (1810-1908), Prime Minister of Austria
Johann Nepomuk Prix (1836-1894), Mayor of Vienna
Benedict Randhartinger (1802-1893), Kapellmeister (conductor)
Friedrich Rochleder (1819-1874), chemist
Wilhelm Scherer (1841-1886), German scholar
Anton Schmerling (1805-1893), lawyer and politician
Leopold Schrötter, Ritter von Kristelli (1837-1908) , doctor (laryngologist) and social medicine
Johann Gabriel Seidl (1804-1875), lyricist of the Austrian imperial anthem "God save, God defend our Emperor, our country!" ("may God save and protect our good Emperor Francis")
Daniel Spitzer (1835-1893), author
Eduard Strauss (1835-1916), composer and conductor
Franz von Thun und Hohenstein (1847-1916), Prime Minister of Cisleithania
Joseph Unger (1828-1913), lawyer and politician
Otto Wagner (1841-1918), architect
Birth year 1850-1899
Othenio Abel (1875-1946), biologist
Ludwig Adamovich, senior (1890-1955), President of the Constitutional Court
Guido Adler (1855-1941), musicologist
Plaque for Altenberg, Beer-Hofmann, Hofmannsthal and Schnitzler
Peter Altenberg (1859-1919), "literary cafe"
Max Wladimir von Beck (1854-1943), Austrian Prime Minister
Richard Beer-Hofmann (1866-1945), writer
Julius Bittner (1874-1939), composer
Robert Dannenberg (1885-1942), lawyer and politician
Konstantin Dumba (1856-1947), diplomat
August Fournier (1850-1920), historian and politician
Erich Frauwallner (1898-1974), Indologist
Dagobert Frey (1883-1962), art historian
Albert Gessmann (1852-1920), librarian and politician
Raimund Gruebl (1847-1898), Mayor of Vienna
Michael Hainisch (1858-1940), President of the Republic of Austria
Edmund Hauler (1859-1941), classical scholar
Hugo von Hofmannsthal (1874-1929), playwright
Karl Kautsky (1854-1938), philosopher and politician
Hans Kelsen (1881-1973), lawyer, co-designer of the Austrian Federal Constitution
Franz Klein (1854-1926), lawyer and politician
Arthur Krupp (1856-1938), industrialist
Wilhelm Kubitschek (1858-1936), archaeologist and numismatist
Edward Leisching (1858-1938), director of the Museum of Applied Arts in Vienna
Felix from Luschan (1854-1924), doctor, anthropologist, explorer, archaeologist and ethnographer
Eugene Margaretha (1885-1963), lawyer and politician
Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk (1850-1937), founder and president of Czechoslovakia
Alexius Meinong (1853-1920), philosopher
Lise Meitner (1878-1968), nuclear physicist
Ludwig von Mises (1881-1973), economist
Paul Morgan (1886-1938), actor
Max von Oberleithner (1868-1935), composer and conductor
Paul Pisk Amadeus (1893-1990), Composer
Gabriele Possanner (1860-1940), physician
Przibram Hans Leo (1874-1944), zoologist
Przibram Karl (1878-1973), physicist
Josef Redlich (1869-1936), lawyer and politician
Elise Richter (1865-1943), Romance languages
Joseph Baron Schey of Koromla (1853-1938), legal scholar
Arthur Schnitzler (1862-1931), writer, playwright
Julius Schnitzler (1865-1939), physician
Erwin Schrödinger (1887-1961), physicist, 1933 Nobel Prize for Physics
Birth year 1900-1949
Ludwig Adamovich, Jr. ( born 1932 ), President of the Austrian Constitutional Court
Christian Broda (1916-1987), lawyer and politician
Engelbert Broda (1910-1983), physicist, chemist
Thomas Chorherr (*1932), journalist and newspaper editor
Magic Christian ( born 1945 ), magic artist and designer
Felix Czeike (1926-2006), historian
Albert Drach (1902-1995), writer
Paul Edwards (1923-2004), philosopher
Caspar Einem (born 1948), Austrian Minister of Interior, Minister of Transport
Ernst Federn (1914-2007), psychoanalyst
Friedrich Heer (1916-1983), writer, historian
Georg Knepler (1906-2003), musicologist
Walter Kohn (b. 1923), physicist, 1998 Nobel Prize for Chemistry
Paul Felix Lazarsfeld (1901-1976), sociologist
Lucian O. Meysels (1925-2012), journalist and nonfiction author
Liliana Nelska (born 1946 ), actress
Erwin Ringel (1921-1994), physician, advocate of Individual Psychology
Ernst Topitsch (1919-2003), philosopher and sociologist
Milan Turković (*1939), Austrian-Croatian wind blower and conductor
Hans Weigel (1908-1991), writer
Erich Wilhelm (1912-2005), Protestant superintendent in Vienna
Year of birth from 1950
Gabriel Barylli (*1957 ), writer and actor
Christiane Druml (b. 1955), lawyer and bioethicist
Paul Chaim Eisenberg (born 1950), Chief Rabbi of the Jewish Community Vienna
Paul Gulda (b. 1961), pianist
Martin Haselboeck (born 1954), organist
Peter Stephan Jungk (*1952), writer
Markus Kupferblum (b. 1964), director
Niki List (1956 - 2009) , film director
Miki Malör (born 1957), theater maker and performer
Paulus Manker (born 1958), actor and director
Andreas Mailath-Pokorny (* 1959), Vienna Councillor for Culture and Science
Doron Rabinovici (*1961), writer
Clemens Unterreiner (born 1977), opera singer, soloist and ensemble member of the Vienna State Opera
Two views, the top image is of a curve in a road surrounded by fields, with a car
driving away. The bottom image is of a group of prisoners in striped uniforms and
their supervisors standing in front of several trailers. There is a car next to them,
and a dog in front of them.
Digital Collection:
North Carolina Postcards
Publisher:
United 5-10-25 Stores, Inc.;
Date:
1915; 1916; 1917; 1918; 1919; 1920; 1921; 1922; 1923; 1924; 1925; 1926; 1927; 1928;
1929; 1930
Location:
Mecklenburg County (N.C.);
Collection in Repository
Durwood Barbour Collection of North Carolina Postcards (P077); collection guide available
online at www.lib.unc.edu/ncc/pcoll/77barbour/77barbour.html
Image Description from historic lecture booklet: "Now from the one 1700 acre estate the Land Commission is making about 30 family sized farms. These are being sold to reliable young families who are paying on an amortization plan extending over 68 1/2 years. This picture shows Mrs. Jack Dooyar in front of the house in which she and her husband lived for years as laborers on the estate. Because of their faithful service, they were given the opportunity to buy one of the small farms. They are now raising potatoes, cabbage, mangles, turnips, oats and hay. They have 8 cows, 20 sheep, 20 pigs, and 200 fowl. All this is on 40 acres."
Original Collection: Visual Instruction Department Lantern Slides
Item Number: P217:set 050 007
You can find this image by searching for the item number by clicking here.
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