With so few flowers in bloom at this time, I had to really be on the lookout for Hummers. The foraging Hummers also have to be on the lookout for any blooming plant.This lady was methodically sampling all of these red blooms on an ornamental shrub in my daughter's back yard before she ventured to this cactus. I saw only a few flying Hummers species (mostly female Anna's and Costa's). These ladies are segregated from each other for IDs mainly on their bill shapes. This bill is said to be generally more curved... but there is overlap. Black-chinned is also possible here to muddle the ID task even further!

 

IMG_9889; Costa's Hummingbird

This here is J-26 Mike surfacing just in front of a house along the South shore of South Pender Island. We got a few good shows of his mother J-16 doing a spy hop and even Mike himself jumping out of the water (me too slow on the shutter). But at least most of his surfacing where done slowly and methodically enough that I was able to catch this.

Several days after visiting this museum I'm still at a loss for words.

 

The museum lies at the site of SS and Gestapo headquarters from 1933 to 1945 in Berlin, Germany, which were heavily damaged by Allied bombing during WWII and demolished soon afterwards. For more than a decade, it was a nexus of terror unlike any I can imagine.

 

The building is stark, monochrome and studiously cold. The bustle inside is a comfortable contrast to the unfathomable story presented on the suspended displays. You make your way through a maze that starts in 1933 and unfolds to the bomb-pummelled end of the site, and past it to the fate of those in charge and their helpers.

 

As with Eichmann in Jerusalem, the banality of it all is searing. An experienced police officer near the Danish border disgusted with the rise of the Nazis plans to quit the service in protest but is convinced by his superior to maintain his dutiful contribution to the state – and becomes the head of the local Gestapo. The initial militias are volunteer-based, i.e. the worst possible example of crowdsourcing, and buy their uniforms themselves, which don't fit and don't match, but no matter, they terrorize their towns in their spare time. Thugs gain power and no one dares stop them when they drag people away, because everyone else is afraid of being dragged away, and the police take on the thugs as reserves, though the reserves are happy to dispense kangaroo justice when the police are away.

 

Even the Gestapo itself turns out to be a banal affair, though obviously murderous and made for terror. Not the fine-tuned instrument of evil we see in the movies, but a mixed bag of older policemen, eager psychos and whatnots. They're not in complete control of the country but are able enough to quell dissent, neuter humanity and destroy lives.

 

And the camps? Not secret, but in plain view, to show everyone else what happens if you leave the fold. This is why stable institutions and a strong civil society are a matter of life and death – without them, we face oblivion.

 

As the years progress and you wander through the exhibit there are signs of a civil society first being choked and then being expertly dissassemble. Militias form, guards outside public buildings intimidate forth a Heil Hitler from the visitors and beat up those who seem uncommitted, a form of persuasive design that is of the dearest kind. Through violence, intimidation and murder, new behaviors and loyalties and cast and those who resist are harassed, hounded, tortured, ostracized or murdered.

 

There is a moment worth gasping at, and that is Himmler convincing Hitler that he should take charge of the national police and merge it with the SS, after which he declares it independent of the judiciary, ejecting the rule of law. The state has been captured by thugs, and its institutions are infected by malice. The neat processes, the typewriters, accounting, forms and stamps, the flow of information, on the surface the same but their purpose usurped by venom. For me, this is the most fascinating bit – a state made for murder needs accountans too, and train planners, just like Eichmann. There's a knot of Actor-Network theory here that I probably won't be able to untie for years.

 

So, yes, in the midst of it all, details, details, details. Paperwork to fill out, uniforms to design and manufacture, units to organize and concentration camps to build. The physical deprivation, the fear and the ejection from the Sloterdijkian bubble of humanity into a space where one is an object, stripped of humanity, rights, a future, life. The socio-technical systems that make dehumanization and murder on a calamitous scale possible. Unfathomable and yet obviously and vividly real.

 

"This map shows only the largest concentration camps. If we had included all the camps you wouldn't be able to see Nazi Germany at all on this map" says our guide, a young bookish man who alternates between a quiet demanor and an intense presence. The audience members, who themselves alternate betwee insipid and intelligent questions, gasp quietly.

 

Insanity on a massive scale – what is the linchpin that enables this? I'm not referring to the WWI defeat, the Weimar republic, hyperinflation, the Great Depression alone, for all of these set the scene, but what is at the heart of the moment when the Nazis decided "We can do whatever the hell we want and everyone who is against us will have to go" and were surprised to see less opposition than expected, and made their hell a reality.

 

The methodical documentation, careful curation and excellent exhibition design. The desolate and colorless design of the building itself. The skillful guide who coaxed a large group of into seeing the big picture and some of the banal but important, and horrid, just horrid details. Impact-wise, it was perfect, but still I can only speak of it, not really about it.

 

Part of me wanted to buy the thick, well-made and heavily subsidized catalog that explains the story in greater detail. Perhaps I'll get it next time but for now, a few hours in the chronicle of chillingly bureaucratic, orchestrated evil was enough.

Black Knights on Patrol

 

The men and women of Task Force 3-66 are actively patrolling western Paktika province, taking the fight to the insurgents. Since assuming responsibility for the area, the Black Knights have been methodically clearing district after district to allow the provincial government to provide security and development. Western Paktika is essentially a rest stop for insurgents linked to Sirajuddin Haqqani traveling from Pakistan and continuing west. The heat, elevated terrain, and harsh landscape of Paktika province are unforgiving allies of these enemies of Afghanistan. With limited road networks the primary mode of travel here is walking. The relentless training planned and executed by the leaders of Task Force 3-66 back in Germany is now paying off.

Watched this heron for awhile as it stalked its dinner. It moved very slowly and methodically.

Construction is steadily moving forward on the 18,000 sq. ft. Possum Creek Skatepark in Gainesville, Florida.

 

Led by Spohn Ranch's COO, Mark Bradford, the crews in Gainesville are quickly turning what were once just some dreams scribbled on paper into one of Florida's premiere concrete skateparks.

 

Through a combination of advanced pre-cast concrete technology and methodical on-site concrete pours, the skatepark is nearing a flawless finish with less than 30 days on site.

Catacombs, Montparnasse, Paris

 

I decided that today was a day for going underground, and I set off to Montparnasse to visit the catacombs. These are a vast maze of tunnels under Paris originally used for quarrying the stone out of which the city's main buildings are constructed. In the late 18th Century, the state of the city's churchyards had become so disgusting that the city removed the bones from all of them. They were brought here at night, the carts coming from the centre of the city accompanied by torch-bearing acolytes and priests chanting the requiem Mass. A skull count showed that almost six million corpses were removed in this way. They were buried deep underground, but these people being Parisians the skulls and bones were arranged in a neat and methodical way, a meaningful chaos. Layers of tibia and femurs are crowned by a layer of pelvises and skulls, and so on. Each churchyard was grouped together, and a plaque shows which parish provided the skeletons.

 

The work was interrupted by the French Revolution,which provided plenty more corpses for when the work was resumed. Altogether about a kilometre and a half of tunnels were filled with the remains of dead Parisians, and you can walk through them on a winding route under the streets around Montparnasse station. In fact, this is just a tiny fraction of the tunnels. The catacombs extend for hundreds of kilometres under the city, many of them rarely explored and difficult of access. Because of this, they are regularly broken into by intrepid adventurers, and many legends have grown up about parts of the network. However, my favourite story is one which is true.

 

In 2004, a group of police cadets on a training exercise were given the task of tracking an imaginary criminal in a part of the network which was little known. They got into the system through a manhole, and when they were about a hundred feet underground something rather odd happened. They triggered a motion sensor which set off the sound of barking dogs. Thinking that it was part of the exercise, they headed onwards only to come out into a vast cavern which had been fully equipped as a cinema. An anteroom had been equipped and fully stocked as a bar, and there was also a film storage room. When the cadets reported what they had seen, the electricity board were sent in to work out where the invaders were getting their electricity from. Instead, they found the wires all cut, the equipment removed, and a sign saying 'Don't try to follow us. You'll never find us.'

 

Perhaps the cineastes had got fed up with waiting to get into the system officially, because this was the only place all week that I encountered a serious queue. Worse, I was just in front of a small group of people who talked constantly in very loud voices. She was an American who obviously lived in Paris, and they appeared to be young relatives who'd come to stay. She was taking them down the catacombs, and the price to be paid for this by the poor kids was to suffer her pretentious nonsense. She went on about spirituality, and homeopathy, and psychoanalysis, and the inner energy, and so on. Fair play to the kids, they responded enthusiastically enough.

 

And then she got out some of her stream of consciousness poetry, and started reading it in a loud voice. Well, goodness me. I was put in mind of something the graphic artist Alan Moore said when he was in Hollywood helping turn his 'V for Vendetta' into a film, and he was asked at a director's lunch why he lived in Northampton, England. "Because it keeps me grounded", he replied, and I thought that this was exactly right. It was like the opposite of this pompous woman, although to be fair to her I expect that if I went to live in Paris I would also disappear up my own backside.

 

The catacombs are brilliant, worth every minute of the queuing time, worth every insufferable stream of consciousness adjective. And then I went and did some shopping.

 

You can read my account of my travels at pariswander.blogspot.co.uk.

1774: VA. Delegate to the 1st Continental Congress

1775: Appointed Commander-in-Chief

 

P5310081

 

"George Washington the Virginia Planter and the Revolutionary Soldier"

CHAPTER XV

   

We left George Washington at Mount Vernon, his extensive plantation on the Virginia bank of the Potomac River. After his marriage with Mrs. Custis, who had large property of her own, Washington became a man of much wealth. He was at one time one of the largest landholders in America. As a manager of all this property, he had much to do. Let us delay our story a little to get a glimpse of the life led by him and other Virginia planters of his time.

   

The plantations were scattered along the rivers, sometimes many miles apart, with densely wooded stretches of land lying between. Each planter had his own wharf whence vessels, once a year, carried away his tobacco to England, and brought back in exchange whatever manufactured goods he required.

   

Nearly all his needs could be supplied at his wharf or on his plantation. His slaves included not only[Pg 190] workers in large tobacco-fields, but such skilled workmen as millers, weavers, tailors, wheelwrights, coopers, shoemakers, and carpenters. Washington said to his overseers, "Buy nothing that you can make within yourselves." Indeed, each plantation was a little world in itself. Hence towns containing shops with goods and supplies of various kinds did not spring up much in Virginia.

   

The mansion of the planter, built of brick or wood and having at either end a huge chimney, was two stories high, with a large veranda outside and a wide hall-way inside. Near by were the storehouses, barns, workshops, and slave quarters. These last consisted of simple wooden cabins surrounded by gardens, where the negroes raised such things as vegetables and water-melons for their own use. In fact, the mansion and all the buildings clustered about it looked like a village. Here we could have seen, at all hours of the day, swarms of negro children playing happily together.

   

The planter spent most of his time in the open air, with his dogs and his horses. Washington gave to his horses rather fanciful names, such as Ajax, Blueskin, Valiant, and Magnolia, and to his dogs, Vulcan, Sweetlips, Ringwood, Forrester, and Rockwood. Out-door recreations included fishing, shooting, and horse-racing.

   

Washington's Coach. Washington's Coach.

 

Although life on the plantation was without luxury, there was everywhere a plain and homely abundance.[Pg 191] Visitors were sure to meet a cordial welcome. It was no uncommon thing for a planter to entertain an entire family for weeks, and then to pay a similar visit in return with his own family. Social life absorbed much of Washington's time at Mount Vernon, where visitors were nearly always present. The planter, often living many miles away from any other human habitation, was only too glad to have a traveller spend the night with him and give news of the outside world. Such a visit was somewhat like the coming of the newspaper into our homes to-day.

   

A Stage Coach of the Eighteenth Century. A Stage Coach of the Eighteenth Century.

 

We must remember that travelling was no such simple and easy matter then as it is now. As the planters in Virginia usually lived on the banks of one of the many rivers, the simplest method of travel was by boat, up or down stream. There were cross-country roads, but these at best were rough, and sometimes full of roots and stumps. Often they were nothing more than forest paths. In trying to follow such roads the traveller at times lost his way and occasionally had to spend a night in the woods. But with even such makeshifts for roads, the planter had his lumbering old coach to which, on state occasions, he harnessed six horses and drove in great style.

   

Washington was in full sympathy with this life, and[Pg 192] threw himself heartily into the work of managing his immense property. He lived up to his favorite motto, "If you want a thing done, do it yourself." He kept his own books, and looked with exactness after the smallest details.

   

He was indeed one of the most methodical of men, and thus accomplished a marvellous amount of work. By habit an early riser, he was often up before daylight in winter. On such occasions he kindled his own fire and read or worked by the light of a candle. At seven in summer and at eight in winter he sat down to a simple breakfast, consisting of two cups of tea, and hoe-cakes made of Indian meal. After breakfast he rode on horseback over his plantation to look after his slaves, often spending much of the day in the saddle superintending the work. At two he ate dinner, early in the evening he took tea, and at nine o'clock went to bed.

   

As he did not spare himself, he expected faithful service from everyone. But to his many slaves he was a kind master, and he took good care of the sick or feeble. It may be a comfort to some of us to learn that Washington was fonder of active life than of reading books, for which he never seemed to get much time. But he was even less fond of public speaking. Like some other great men, he found it difficult to stand up before a body of people and make a speech. After his term of service in the French and Indian War he was elected to the House of Burgesses, where he received a vote of thanks for his brave military ser[Pg 193]vices. Rising to reply, Washington stood blushing and stammering, without being able to say a word. The Speaker, equal to the occasion, said with much grace, "Sit down, Mr. Washington, your modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses the power of any language to express."

   

While for many years after the close of the Last French War this modest, home-loving man was living the life of a high-bred Virginia gentleman, the exciting events which finally brought on the Revolution were stirring men's souls to heroic action. It was natural, in these trying days, that his countrymen should look for guidance and inspiration to George Washington, who had been so conspicuous a leader in the Last French War.

   

He represented Virginia at the first meeting of the Continental Congress in 1774, going to Philadelphia in company with Patrick Henry and others. He was also a delegate from his colony at the second meeting of the Continental Congress in May, 1775. On being elected by this body Commander-in-Chief of the American army, he at once thanked the members for the election, and added, "I do not think myself equal to the command I am honored with." He also refused to receive any salary for his services, but said he would keep an account of the expenses he might incur, in order that these might be paid back to him.

   

On the 21st of June Washington set out on horseback from Philadelphia, in company with a small body of horsemen, to take command of the American army[Pg 194] around Boston. Not long after starting they met a messenger bringing in haste the news of the Battle of Bunker Hill. Washington eagerly asked, "Did the Americans stand the fire of the regular troops?" "Yes," was the proud answer. "Then," cried Washington, gladly, "the liberties of the country are safe!"

   

Three days later, about four o'clock on Sunday afternoon, he reached New York, where he met with a royal welcome. Riding in an open carriage drawn by two white horses, he passed through the streets, escorted by nine companies of soldiers on foot. Along the route the people, old and young, received him with enthusiasm. At New Haven the Yale College students came out in a body, keeping step to the music of a band of which Noah Webster, the future lexicographer, then a freshman, was the leader. On July 2d, after arriving at the camp in Cambridge, Washington received an equally enthusiastic welcome from the soldiers.

   

Next day General Washington rode out on horseback and, under the famous elm still standing near Harvard University, drew his sword and took command of the American army. He was then forty-three years old, with a tall, manly form and a noble face. He was good to look at as he sat there, a perfect picture of manly strength and dignity, wearing an epaulet on each shoulder, a broad band of blue silk across his breast, and a three-cornered hat with the cockade of liberty in it.[Pg 195]

   

Now came the labor of getting his troops into good condition for fighting battles, for his army was one only in name. These untrained men were brave and willing, but without muskets and without powder, they were in no condition for making war on a well-equipped enemy.

   

Moreover, the army had no cannon, without which it could not hope to succeed in an attack upon the British troops in Boston. By using severe measures, however, Washington soon brought about much better discipline. But with no powder and no cannon, he had to let the autumn and the winter slip by before making any effort to drive the British army out of Boston. When cannon and other supplies were at last brought down from Ticonderoga on sledges drawn by oxen, the alert American General fortified Dorchester Heights, which overlooked the city, and forced the English commander to sail away with all his army.

   

Washington believed that the next movement of the British would be to get control of the Hudson River and the Middle States. So he went promptly to New York in order to defend it against attack. But still his army was weak in numbers as well as in provisions, equipment, and training.

   

Washington had only about 18,000 men to meet General Howe, who soon arrived off Staten Island with a large fleet and 30,000 men. Not knowing where the British General would strike first, Washington had to be on his guard at many points. He had to prepare a defence of a line of twenty miles. He[Pg 196] also built, on opposite sides of the Hudson River just above New York, Forts Lee and Washington.

   

Map Illustrating the Battle of Long

 

Island. Map Illustrating the Battle of Long Island.

 

When Brooklyn Heights, on Long Island, had been fortified, General Putnam went with half the army to occupy them. On August 27th General Howe, with something like 20,000 men, attacked a part of these forces and defeated them. If he had continued the battle by marching at once against the remainder, he might have captured all that part of Washington's army under Putnam's command. He might, also, have captured Washington himself, who, during the heat of the battle, had crossed over to Long Island.

   

If Howe had done this, he might have ended the war at one stroke. But his men had fought hard at the end of a long night-march and needed rest. Besides, he thought it would be easy enough to capture the Americans without undue haste. For how could they escape? Soon the British vessels would sail up and get between them and New York, when, of course, escape for Washington and his men would be impossible. This all seemed so clear to the easy-going General Howe that he gave his tired men a rest after the battle on the 27th. On[Pg 197] the 28th a heavy rain fell, and on the 29th a dense fog covered the island.

   

But before midday of the 29th some American officers riding down toward the shore, noticed an unusual stir in the British fleet. Boats were going to and fro, as if carrying orders. "Very likely," said these officers to Washington, "the English vessels are to sail up between New York and Long Island, to cut off our retreat." As that was also Washington's opinion, he secured all the boats he could find for the purpose of trying to make an escape during the night.

   

It was a desperate undertaking. There were 10,000 men, and the width of the river at the point of crossing was nearly a mile. It would seem hardly possible that such a movement could, in a single night, be made without discovery by the British troops, who were lying in camp but a short distance away. The night must have been a long and anxious one for Washington, who stayed at his post of duty on the Long Island shore until the last boat of the retreating army had pushed off. The escape was a brilliant achievement and saved the American cause.

   

But this was only the beginning of Washington's troubles in this memorable year, 1776. As the British now occupied Brooklyn Heights, which overlooked New York, the Americans could not hold that place, and in a short time they had to withdraw, fighting stubbornly as they slowly retreated. Washington crossed over to the Jersey side of the Hudson, and left General Charles Lee with half the army at North[Pg 198] Castle. The British captured Forts Lee and Washington, with 3,000 men, inflicting a severe loss upon the American cause. The outlook was gloomy, but more trying events were to follow.

   

In order to prevent the British from capturing Philadelphia, Washington put his army between them and that city. The British began to move upon him. Needing every soldier that he could get, he sent orders to General Lee to join him. Lee refused to move. Again and again Washington urged Lee to come to his aid. Each time Lee disobeyed. We now know that he was a traitor, secretly hoping that Washington might fail in order that he himself, who was second in command, might become Commander-in-Chief of the American army.

   

Lee's disobedience placed Washington in a critical position. In order to save his army from capture, Washington had to retreat once more, this time across New Jersey toward Philadelphia. As the British army, in every way superior to Washington's, was close upon the Americans, it was a race for life. Sometimes the rear-guard of the Americans was just leaving a burning bridge when the van of the British army could be seen approaching. But by burning bridges and destroying food supplies intended for the British, Washington so delayed them that they were nineteen days in marching about sixty miles.

   

Nevertheless the situation for the Americans was still desperate. To make matters worse, Washington saw his army gradually melting away by desertion.[Pg 199] When he reached the Delaware River it numbered barely 3,000 men.

   

WASHINGTON'S RETREAT THROUGH NEW JERSEY. WASHINGTON'S RETREAT THROUGH NEW JERSEY.

 

[Pg 200]

   

Having collected boats for seventy miles along the Delaware, Washington succeeded in safely crossing it a little above Trenton, on December 8th. As the British had no boats, they were obliged to wait until the river should freeze, when they intended to cross in triumph and make an easy capture of Philadelphia.

   

To most people, in England and in America alike, the early downfall of the American cause seemed certain. General Cornwallis—who in May of this year had joined the British army in America—was so sure that the war would soon come to an end, that he had already packed some of his luggage and sent it aboard ship, with the intention of returning to England at an early day.

   

But Washington had no thought of giving up the struggle. Far from being disheartened, he confronted the gloomy outlook with all his energy and courage. Fearless and full of faith in the patriot cause, he watched with vigilance for an opportunity to turn suddenly upon his over-confident enemy and strike a heavy blow.

   

[Pg 201]

   

Map Illustrating the Struggle for the Hudson River and the Middle States. Map Illustrating the Struggle for the Hudson River and the Middle States.

 

[Pg 202]

   

Such an opportunity shortly came to him. The British General had carelessly separated his army into several divisions and scattered them at various points in New Jersey. One of these divisions, consisting of Hessians, was stationed at Trenton. Washington's quick eye noted this blunder of the British General, and he resolved to take advantage of it by attacking the Hessians at Trenton on Christmas night. Having been re-enforced, he now had an army of 6,000 and was therefore in a better condition to risk a battle. With 2,400 picked men he got ready to cross the Delaware River at a point nine miles above Trenton. There was snow on the ground, and the weather was bitterly cold. As the soldiers marched to the place of crossing, some of them with feet almost bare left bloody footprints along the route.

   

At sunset the troops began to cross. It was a terrible night for such an undertaking. Angry gusts of wind, and great blocks of ice swept along by the swift current, threatened every moment to dash in pieces the frail boats. From the Trenton side of the river, General Knox, who had been sent ahead by Washington, loudly shouted to let the struggling boatmen know where to land. Ten hours were consumed in the crossing. Much longer must the time have seemed to Washington, as he stood in the midst of the wild storm, his heart full of mingled anxiety and hope.

   

It was not until four o'clock in the morning that the troops were ready to march upon Trenton, nine miles away. As they advanced, a fearful storm of snow and sleet beat upon the already weary men. But they pushed forward, and surprised the Hessians at Trenton soon after sunrise, easily capturing them after a short struggle.

   

Washington had brought hope to every patriot heart. The British were amazed at the daring feat, and Cornwallis decided to make a longer stay in[Pg 203] America. He soon advanced with a superior force against Washington, and at nightfall, January 2, 1777, took his stand on the farther side of a small creek. "At last," said Cornwallis, "we have run down the old fox, and we will bag him in the morning."

   

But Washington was too sly a fox for Cornwallis to bag. During the night he led his army around Cornwallis's camp, and pushing on to Princeton defeated the rear-guard, which had not yet joined the main body. He then retired in safety to his winter quarters among the hills about Morristown. During this fateful campaign Washington had handled his army in a masterly way. He had begun with defeat and had ended with victory.

   

In 1777 the British planned to get control of the Hudson River, and thus cut off New England from the other States. In this way they hoped so to weaken the Americans as to make their defeat easy. Burgoyne was to march from Canada, by way of Lake Champlain and Fort Edward, to Albany, where he was to meet not only a small force of British under St. Leger from the Mohawk Valley, but also the main army of 18,000 men, under General Howe, which was expected to sail up the Hudson from New York. The British believed that this plan would be easily carried out and would soon bring the war to a close.

   

[Pg 204]

   

WINTER AT VALLEY FORGE. WINTER AT VALLEY FORGE.

   

The Relief.

 

[Pg 205]

   

And this might have happened if General Howe had not failed to do his part. Instead of going up to meet and help Burgoyne, however, he tried first to march across New Jersey and capture Philadelphia. But when he reached Morristown, he found Washington in a stronghold where he dared not attack him. As Washington would not come out and risk an encounter in the open field, and as Howe was unwilling to continue his advance with the American army threatening his rear, he returned to New York. Still desirous of reaching Philadelphia, however, he sailed a little later, with his army, to Chesapeake Bay. The voyage took him two months.

   

When at length he advanced toward Philadelphia, he found Washington ready to dispute his progress at Brandywine Creek. There a battle was fought, resulting in the defeat of the Americans. But Washington handled his army with such skill that Howe spent two weeks in reaching Philadelphia, only twenty-six miles away.

   

When Howe arrived at the city he found out that it was too late to send aid to Burgoyne, who was now in desperate straits. Washington had spoiled the English plan, and Burgoyne, failing to get the much-needed help from Howe, had to surrender at Saratoga (October 17, 1777) his entire army of 6,000 regular troops. This was a great blow to England, and resulted in a treaty between France and America. After this treaty, France sent over both land and naval forces, which were of much service to the American cause.

   

At the close of 1777 Washington retired to a strong position among the hills at Valley Forge, on the Schuylkill River, about twenty miles northwest of Philadelphia. Here his army spent a winter of terrible[Pg 206] suffering. Most of the soldiers were in rags, only a few had bed-clothing, and many had not even straw to lie upon at night. Nearly 3,000 were barefoot. More than this, they were often for days at a time without bread. It makes one heartsick to read about the sufferings of these patriotic men during this miserable winter. But despite all the bitter trials of these distressing times, Washington never lost faith in the final success of the American cause.

   

A beautiful story is told of this masterful man at Valley Forge. When "Friend Potts" was near the camp one day, he heard an earnest voice. On approaching he saw Washington on his knees, his cheeks wet with tears, praying to God for help and guidance. When the farmer returned to his home he said to his wife: "George Washington will succeed! George Washington will succeed! The Americans will secure their independence!" "What makes thee think so, Isaac?" inquired his wife. "I have heard him pray, Hannah, out in the woods to-day, and the Lord will surely hear his prayer. He will, Hannah; thee may rest assured He will."

   

We may pass over without comment here the events between the winter at Valley Forge and the Yorktown campaign, which resulted in the surrender of Cornwallis with all his army. Even when not engaged in fighting battles, Washington was the soul of the American cause, which could scarcely have succeeded without his inspiring leadership. But there is yet one more military event—the hemming in of Cornwallis at York[Pg 207]town,—for us to notice briefly before we take leave of Washington.

   

When at the close of his fighting with General Greene in the South, Cornwallis marched northward to Yorktown, Washington, with an army of French and American troops, was encamped on the Hudson River. He was waiting for the coming of a French fleet to New York. On its arrival he expected to attack the British army there by land, while the fleet attacked it by sea.

   

Upon hearing that the French fleet was on its way to the Chesapeake, Washington thought out a brilliant scheme. This was to march his army as quickly and as secretly as possible to Yorktown, a distance of 400 miles, there to join Lafayette and to co-operate with the French fleet in the capture of Cornwallis. The scheme succeeded so well that Cornwallis surrendered his entire army of 8,000 men on October 19, 1781.

   

This was the last battle of the war, although the treaty of peace was not signed until 1783. By that treaty the Americans won their independence from England. The country which they could now call their own extended from Canada to Florida, and from the Atlantic Ocean to the Mississippi River.

   

Washington, tired of war, was glad to become a Virginia planter once more. But he was not permitted to live in quiet. After his retirement from the army his home became, as he himself said, a well-resorted tavern. Two years after the close of the Revolution he wrote in his diary: "Dined with only Mrs. Washing[Pg 208]ton, which I believe is the first instance of it since my retirement from public life."

   

When, on the formation of the Constitution of the United States, the American people looked about for a President, all eyes naturally turned to George Washington. He was elected without opposition and was inaugurated at New York, then the capital of the United States, on April 30, 1789.

   

Washington's Home—Mount Vernon. Washington's Home—Mount Vernon.

 

His life as President was one of dignity and elegance. It was his custom to pay no calls and accept no invitations, but between three and four o'clock on every Tuesday afternoon he held a public reception. On such occasions he appeared in court-dress, with powdered hair, yellow gloves in his hand, a long sword in[Pg 209] a scabbard of white polished leather at his side, and a cocked hat under his arm. Standing with his right hand behind him, he bowed formally as each guest was presented to him.

   

After serving two terms as President with great success he again retired in 1797 to private life at Mount Vernon. Here he died on December 14, 1799, at the age of sixty-seven, loved and honored by the American people.

   

From American Leaders and Heroes: A Preliminary Text-Book in United States History By Wilbur F. Gordy (New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1907, public domain)

The GRAND GARAGE is the brand new innovation workshop based in the tobacco factory in Linz. The spirit of innovation and the fun of doing things are the program here, learning and growing is the motto. The intention of Makerspace is the networking of the community as well as the support and further development of skills and methodical competences.

 

Credit: Philipp Greindl

Public memory is proverbially short. But for cricket fans, some events and dates will always stay in the mind. India's first ever Test victory, the miraculous win at Kanpur on Christmas eve in 1959, the country's maiden rubber triumph over England in 1962, the India Rubber Year of 1971, the World Cup triumph in 1983. In my book I would particularly include the two most astounding victories registered by the country in Test cricket in my opinion - at Port of Spain in 1976 when India successfully chased a victory target of 403 and at Melbourne in 1981 when against all expectations and with an emaciated bowling line-up, India routed a formidable Australian side for just 83 runs when the home team were set only 143 runs for victory.

 

In the minds of the keen cricket fan, certain dates too cannot be forgotten easily. February 10, 1952. March 10, 1971. August 24, 1971. June 25, 1983. March 10, 1985. No prizes for guessing the momentous events that took place on these days. For the older generation, perhaps February 10, 1952 will always be remembered. But for me and those of my generation - by which I mean born shortly after independence - August 24, 1971 will always be evergreen in memory.

 

It is 29 years ago today but I can remember the events of that day - and the days leading up to the joyous occasion - as vividly as though it took place yesterday. I used to sit glued to the radio and the BBC commentary for years and 1971 was no different. But as luck would have it, I had to leave Madras on the night of August 19 - the opening day of the final Test at the Oval between India and England - to attend a relative's wedding in Bangalore. Over the next few days, caught up as I was with the festivities of the occasion, I had little time to keep in touch with the way the Test was progressing. On Sunday, the day of the wedding, all I knew from a brief glance at the newspaper was that England had scored 355 on the first day, the second day's play was washed out and India had made 234 for seven on the third day.

 

On Monday, August 23, 1971 I was busy the whole day and reached the station to catch the night train back to Madras. Waiting for the train to arrive, I saw some people on the platform listening to the commentary and suddenly it struck me that it was the fourth day of the Test. Casually I walked up to them and asked for the score. I was told that India had just commenced their second innings. It was 9 pm in India (around tea time at the Oval) and so I naturally assumed that after India had been all out, England had gone for quick runs and then declared leaving India four sessions to save the Test. After all, the second Test had also progressed along these lines. Imagine my surprise when I was told that India required 173 runs for victory as England had been bowled out for 101. This was after India had made 284 in the first innings and those listening to the commentary excitedly told me that Chandrasekhar had taken six wickets.

 

Still skeptical about all what I heard, I boarded the train. My reluctance to come to terms with the situation can perhaps be understood by the fact that out of 21 Tests played by India in England till then, 15 had been lost and six had been drawn. Over the past three tours, eleven out of 12 Tests had been lost. It was only when I reached Madras and saw the morning papers that it dawned on me that India, who in the meantime had reached 76 for two, were in with a chance to accomplish what no previous Indian team in England had achieved. Just 97 runs more with eight wickets in hand and a whole day ahead should pose no problems, we all reckoned. Only the psychological pressure on approaching a historic triumph seemed to stand in the way of the Indians.

 

Tuesday, August 24, 1971 was a holiday in India, it being Ganesh Chaturthi. It was a closed holiday for the newspaper I worked. My friends and I planned a little celebration in anticipation of India's victory and by around 3.30 pm, the scheduled time the match was to start in England (where it was 11 am) we had all gathered in my house. All of us felt the early alarm of Ajit Wadekar being run out without any addition to the score. Did this mean the Indians would succumb under the relentless pressure that England applied on them under the shrewd generalship of Ray Illingworth, who had yet to lose a Test as captain?

 

We need not have worried. Dilip Sardesai and Gundappa Viswanath took the score to 124 through careful, methodical batting. All this time it was a pretty tense bunch of cricket fans listening to the radio commentary. Finally Sardesai was out for 40. But when the consistent Eknath Solkar was fifth out at 134 for his first failure of the series, the feeling of anxiety returned. Sure, only 39 runs were needed and five wickets were left as Farokh Engineer walked out to join Viswanath. All the same, it was nail biting time all over again.

 

Again the worry was unnecessary. Hitherto the runs had been scored but the rate was painfully slow. Engineer changed all that. He unleashed a thrilling counter attack and England, plainly surprised at the sudden change in strategy, were thrown in a bit of disarray. At lunch, India had progressed to 146 for five. Now only 27 runs were required and the old confidence was back.

 

During the break, my friends got something suitably bubbly to celebrate the impending Indian victory. When play resumed at 6.40 pm we were all ready, eagerly waiting for the winning stroke from either Engineer or Viswanath. The winning stroke did come about but not from either of these batsmen. Engineer hurried India along while Viswanath was firm at the other end. The score went past 150, 160 and reached 170. The time was now shortly after 7 pm and we had the bubbly ready in our hands. Illingworth had by now given up and put on Brian Luckhurst on to bowl. Surely the winning stroke was now only moments away but there was one minor change in the now well settled scenario. With victory round the corner, Viswanath essayed a big hit off Luckhurst and as the commentator raised his voice, we all thought he was hailing the winning stroke and raised our glasses. A few seconds later, ironic laughter burst across the room as we realised that Viswanath had snicked the ball to Knott.

 

So it was a more cautious bunch a few minutes later when the commentator raised his voice excitedly again but this time it was for real. For Abid Ali had square cut Luckhurst to the boundary. We came to know it was a square cut later but at the moment all we were aware of was that India had won. Our noisy celebrations started and went on for long even as we could hear the crackers go off everywhere and see bonfires being lit all over. It was one hell of a night. Over and over again, we heard over the radio the news of India's triumph and the congratulations being rushed to the team from the President and the Prime Minister and other dignatories.

 

As I said, it was Ganesh Chaturthi so there were no newspapers the next day. But I rushed to the office early to rummage through the overnight copy and read the various reports. Keith Miller's description of the momentous events in `The Indian Express' made for entertaining reading and within a few days came Khalid Ansari's emotional piece `If your eyes were moist' in `Sportsweek.' Oh yes, it was a heady feeling, the kind of feeling a later generation would have felt on June 25, 1983. Yes, I did see the World Cup final on television and I know it ended around 11.55 pm IST. I did experience the joy, and again the crackers and the bonfires were part of the scene. But for me, August 24, 1971 will always be something special, very very special. Years later when I went through Mihir Bose's `A history of Indian cricket' - published in 1990 - it pleased me immensely to see that he thought it fit to start the monumental work with the triumph at the Oval. That August 24, 1971 will continue to have a special place in the hearts of cricket lovers in the country is something no one can deny.

 

Pratap Ramchand.

 

The Benefits of Custom Drapery: Personalizing Your Space with Unique Window

 

A custom window treatment is an investment that can create a unique, beautiful look in your home. With a variety of fabric options and decorative trims and tassels, it’s easy to find the perfect style for your space.

 

Whether you are looking for a modern, minimalist design or something more colorful and eye-catching, our team can help you choose the perfect window coverings to complement your decor and personal style.

 

Custom drapery is made using a high-quality fabric that is methodically checked and inspected before it is cut, which can help prevent color variations from occurring over time. This is a big advantage over ready-made curtain panels that may not have been crafted correctly.

 

One of the biggest differences between custom and ready-made is the fullness that’s created by professional pleating. This adds texture and a touch of luxury that ready-made draperies simply cannot offer.

 

Functionality – A second advantage of custom draperies is that they can improve the energy efficiency of your home. This can save you money over time by keeping your home warmer during the winter and cooler during the summer months.

 

Privacy – Another advantage of custom drapery is that it can provide you with extra privacy at night and during the day. This can be especially helpful if you have a large bay or corner window that you need to cover.

 

Plant Tables by Your Windows

 

Adding plants by your windows is a great way to bring in natural sunlight and make the space feel more welcoming. This can work well with floor-to-ceiling windows, but it also works for smaller ones.

 

Aside from bringing in more light, you can use your plant tables to display your favorite flowers and other decor that you enjoy. The best part about this is that it’s a practical solution for any room in your home.

 

Low Window Seats

 

Sometimes, we have clients who want to have a reading nook near their window but don’t have enough space in the rest of the room to build in a chair or bench. For these spaces, a low window seat with hidden storage underneath can be the perfect addition.

 

The nook can be used as a place to get in some reading, or it can be a cozy space where you can relax and watch the world go by. Either way, the nook can be a wonderful addition to your home and an excellent space for kids to do their homework.

 

You can even turn the nook into a breakfast nook by extending a table around the sides of the window. You can also put a sofa in the nook to create an additional seating area.

 

Custom Drapery Panels & Valances

 

The most important benefit of custom drapery is that they can be designed to fit any size and shape of window. You can even have them made with a specific height, width, or mounting style to perfectly coordinate with your current window treatments. This gives you the flexibility to customize your space and create a unique look for every window in your home.

 

A B Series Presents

 

MAJA RATKJE in Concert!

 

7:30pm

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

 

National Arts Centre

Fourth Stage

53 Elgin Street

Ottawa, Ontario

 

Introductory set by Ottawa saxophonist, LINSEY WELLMAN!

 

Check out the NAC's event page, nac-cna.ca/en/community/event/9138.

 

**

 

“Ratkje’s vibrant vocal fluctuations can make Bjork sound like an “American Idol” candidate.” Christopher Porter in the Washington Post Express

 

An energizing figure in contemporary music, Norwegian composer, vocalist and instrumentalist, MAJA RATKJE consistently pushes the boundaries of our understanding of music, methodically threading together a musical language spun from the fundamentals of sound and the results are inevitably stirring. On May 20th at the National Arts Centre, see Ratkje perform in a concert combining cutting-edge vocals with live electronics!

 

Maja Ratkje has been leading an impressive career as an improviser and a composer since the late 1990s. Her work ranges from raw noise to delicate chamber music. She is best known for her powerful and highly expressive voice, which she first put to use in the group SPUNK and the duo Fe-Mail. Ratkje released her solo debut in 2002 on Rune Grammofon. It revealed a versatile voice augmented by real-time electronic operations. Since then, the vocalist has released four more solo records (one on Tzadik) and given dozens of solo performances. Her latest recordings demonstrate an artistic maturation, all the while maintaining the frenzied impulse that pushed her early career forward. A riveting display of cutting-edge vocals and live electronics make Ratkje’s solo concerts anything but predictable.

 

**

 

An active member of the Ottawa music scene, LINSEY WELLMAN is known as a creative and spontaneous improviser on the alto and soprano saxophones, the alto and standard flutes, and the bass clarinet. His latest release - Ephemera: for solo saxophone, is a suite of guided improvisations for which he received grants from the City of Ottawa and from the Canada Council for the Arts. He is also co-founder and co-curator of the Improvising Musicians of Ottawa/Outaouais (IMOO) concert series, as well as IMOOFest: an annual improvised music festival in Ottawa.

 

“Unadorned except for his saxophone, Wellman uses repeated and carefully divided lines to vibrate split tones which are somehow both polyphonic and tonic. Using circular breathing he produces equivalent note clusters and glissandi that unroll as if his saxophone is a perpetual motion machine yet subtly vary in pitch, shading and emphasis.” – Ken Waxman (the Whole Note)

 

**

 

Launched in 2007, A B Series has quickly established itself as a dynamic presenter of the performing arts. Specialized in presenting innovative musical and literary events, it has drawn large audiences and created new energy in Ottawa's cultural life. A B Series serves the greater Ottawa community by presenting a carefully curated program of performances. In addition to presenting cutting-edge musical performances, it programs readings of poetry and fiction. And, it has a rich tradition of producing multi-disciplinary events combining literature, music, visual arts and theatre. A B Series' website can be found at abseries.org.

 

**

 

This concert is produced by A B Series in partnership with the National Arts Centre and Festival International de Musique Actuelle de Victoriaville and with support from the Royal Norwegian Embassy, City of Ottawa and Ontario Arts Council.

A mature maple tree needed to be removed from next to a neighbor's house. This crew, using a crane, a "cherry picker" and a ground crew methodically took the tree apart. Professional, efficient job.

A male Bullfinch busy stripping the flowerbuds from a sargenti-type Cherry Tree in the back garden. I inherited the tree with the house 12 years ago and I've yet to see it flower as every year around this time a pair of Bullfinches appear and methodically strip every flowerbud from it. Lovely birds too - I don't begrudge them a single bud.

Black Knights on Patrol

 

The men and women of Task Force 3-66 are actively patrolling western Paktika province, taking the fight to the insurgents. Since assuming responsibility for the area, the Black Knights have been methodically clearing district after district to allow the provincial government to provide security and development. Western Paktika is essentially a rest stop for insurgents linked to Sirajuddin Haqqani traveling from Pakistan and continuing west. The heat, elevated terrain, and harsh landscape of Paktika province are unforgiving allies of these enemies of Afghanistan. With limited road networks the primary mode of travel here is walking. The relentless training planned and executed by the leaders of Task Force 3-66 back in Germany is now paying off.

“A” Company of the Special Operations Regiment, together with Unit 302 of the Coalition’s Counter-Terrorism Division, was tasked with a village clearance operation aimed at disrupting insurgent networks and degrading their ability to launch coordinated attacks.

 

After 2nd Platoon established blocking positions around the village and set the conditions for the Ground Assault Force (GAF), 1st Platoon and Unit 302 launched the assault in the middle of the night. Unit 302 led the charge, clearing the first series of buildings.

 

Contact was made almost immediately as the assault teams advanced into the village, but the assault force quickly returned fire, clearing each structure methodically.

 

To be continued…

 

Note: This story, including all names, characters, and incidents, is entirely fictitious.

I caught G. methodically draining each can from the bag of returnables which had been left on the floor. His hand in the air isn't reaching for something, it's just up in what I assume is an expression of joy and gusto.

The GRAND GARAGE is the brand new innovation workshop based in the tobacco factory in Linz. The spirit of innovation and the fun of doing things are the program here, learning and growing is the motto. The intention of Makerspace is the networking of the community as well as the support and further development of skills and methodical competences.

 

Credit: Philipp Greindl

LC-USZC2-3120: War of 1812, USS United States capturing Royal Navy frigate HBM Macedonian, October 25, 1812. Created by N. Currier, between 1835-56. During this battle, the frigate United States, commanded by Stephen Decatur, captured the British frigate Macedonian, commanded by John S. Carden, west of the Canary Islands. During battle, United States broadsided the British frigate and destroyed her mizzen top mast, which let her driver gaff fall. This advantage allowed United States to riddle the enemy methodically with shot. After surrender, Macedonian was eventually repaired and entered into U.S. Naval service. (7/2/2015).

Black Knights on Patrol

 

The men and women of Task Force 3-66 are actively patrolling western Paktika province, taking the fight to the insurgents. Since assuming responsibility for the area, the Black Knights have been methodically clearing district after district to allow the provincial government to provide security and development. Western Paktika is essentially a rest stop for insurgents linked to Sirajuddin Haqqani traveling from Pakistan and continuing west. The heat, elevated terrain, and harsh landscape of Paktika province are unforgiving allies of these enemies of Afghanistan. With limited road networks the primary mode of travel here is walking. The relentless training planned and executed by the leaders of Task Force 3-66 back in Germany is now paying off.

David owed his rise to fame - after many reversals - to a painting for the execution of which he took his family to Rome, in order to absorb himself totally in the world of antique forms. It was The Oath of the Horatii.

 

When he arrived to Rome, David rent a studio in the Via del Babuino. He worked in a very methodical manner on The Oath of the Horatii, drawing from life models and draped mannequins, and some very detailed studies survive for many of the main figures. He had accessories such as the swords and helmets made by local craftsmen so that they could serve as props. Drouais is supposed to have assisted David, painting the arm of the rear Horatii brother and the yellow garment of Sabina. The painting was finished at the end of July 1785, and was then exhibited in David's studio. David signed the painting and added the painting's place of origin to the signature and date: L David / faciebat / Romanae /Anno MDCCLXXXIV. The painting created a sensation, even the Pope wanted to view it.

 

The story is from the 7th century B.C., and it tells of the triplet sons of Publius Horatius, who decided the struggle between Rome and Albalonga. One survived, but he killed his own sister because she wept for one of the fallen foes, to whom she was betrothed. Condemned to death for the murder of a sibling, Horatius' son is pardoned by the will of the people.

 

Because of its austerity and depiction of dutiful patriotism, The Oath of the Horatii is often considered to be the clearest expression of Neoclassicism in painting. The painting's uncompromising directness, economy and tension made it instantly memorable and full of visual impact. Each of the three elements of the picture - the sons, the father and the women - is framed by a section of a Doric arcade, and the figures are located in a narrow stage-like space. David split the picture between the masculine resolve of the father and brothers and the slumped resignation of the women.. The focal point of the work is occupied by the swords that old Horatius is about to distribute to his sons. While the rear two brothers take the oath with their left hands, the foremost one swears with his right. Perhaps David did this simply as a way of grouping the figures together, but people at the time noticed this detail, and some supposed that this meant that the brother in the front would be the one to survive the combat.

  

www.phaselis.org/en/about/about-project

Phaselis Research

 

Phaselis

 

When compared with the previous period of research on the history of the city over the past quarter century it has undergone radical changes. While modern scientists follow the path of their predecessors in collecting data through systematic processes and methodically analysing them, they change the route whereby they approach the city as a context- and a process-oriented structure, having economic, social, cultural, political and environmental dimensions which come together at different levels.

 

This considerably more inclusive definition expands the discipline concerning the city’s historical research, which consists of archaeology, epigraphy, ancient history and the other ancillary sciences and it encourages scientists from the natural and health sciences to participate within these studies. This is because in the course of the exploration of an ancient settlement the study of both the environment and the ecological setting which make human life possible; together with health issues, such as diet and epidemics, form the context within which human beings live, and which are thereby as important as the human actors.

 

Within the context of the planned Phaselis Research, even certain knowledge such as the settlement’s appearing on the stage of history as a favorite break-point with its three natural harbours, it being famous for its roses, the frequent seismic upheavals at sea and on its shores and its citizens leaving their homes because of a devastating malaria epidemic suggest the necessity of the application of this multi-dimensional research methodology in order to understand more fully the historical adventure of this city.

 

By presenting this research project, we aim to implement and realize this multi-dimensional research method, which as yet lacks widespread application in the field in our country, however conceptually and practically with a multi-disciplinary research team consisting of both national and international scientists, we intend to register systematically every kind of data/information regarding all contexts of the city employing modern methods and to present the results to the scientific world in the form of regular reports and monographic studies, thus forming a strong tie between past and future research.

 

Phaselis Territorium

 

The boundaries of the ancient city of Phaselis’ territorium are today within the administrative borders of the township of Tekirova, in Kemer District, determined from the archaeological, epigraphic and historical-geographical evidence, reaching the Gökdere valley to the north, continue on a line drawn from Üç Adalar to Mount Tahtalı to the south and extend along the Çandır valley to the west.

 

Phaselis was discovered in 1811-1812 by Captain F. Beaufort during his work of charting the southern coastline of Asia Minor for the British Royal Navy. Beaufort drew Phaselis’ plan and in the course of conducting his cartographic studies, he saw the word Φασηλίτης ethnikon on the inscriptions and consequently identified these ruins with Phaselis. C. R. Cockerell, the English architect, archaeologist and author came to Phaselis by ship and met Beaufort there. Then in 1838 C. Fellows, the English archaeologist visited the city. He found the fragments of the dedicatory inscription over the monumental gate built in honour of the Emperor Hadrianus and mistakenly thought the Imperial Period main street was the stadion due to the seats-steps on either side of the street. In 1842 Lt. T. A. B. Spratt, the English hydrographer and geographer, and the Rev. E. Forbes, the naturalist came to Phaselis via the Olympos and Khimaira routes. Due to the fact that they all came by sea and they only stayed for a short time, their descriptions of the topography inland are without detailed and there are serious errors in orientation.

 

PhaselisThose researchers who visited Phaselis between the late 19th and the early 20th centuries concentrated primarily upon the discovery of inscriptions. In 1881-1882 while the Austrian archaeologist and the epigraphist O. Benndorf, the founder of the Austrian Archaeological Institute, and his team were conducting research in southwestern Asia Minor, they examined Phaselis. In the winter of 1883 and 1884 F. von Luschan from the Austrian team took the first photographs which provide information concerning the regional features of Phaselis’ shoreline. In the same year the French scientist V. Bérard also visited Phaselis. In 1892 the members of the Austrian research team, O. Benndorf, E. Kalinka and their colleagues continued their architectural, archaeological and epigraphical studies in Phaselis. In 1904 they were followed by D. G. Hogarth, R. Norton and A. W. van Buren from the British research team. In 1908 the Austrian classical philologist E. Kalinka visited the settlement again, collected epigraphic documents and conducted research on the history of city (published in TAM II in 1944). The Italian researchers R. Paribeni and P. Romanelli visited Phaselis in1913 and C. Anti in 1921. Anti returned to Antalya overland and in consequence discovered several epigraphs and the ruins of structures within the territorium of Phaselis.

 

Further archaeological, epigraphical and historical-geographical studies of Phaselis were conducted by the English researchers F. M. Stark and G. Bean, who came to the region after World War II. In 1968 H. Schläger, the German architect and underwater archaeologist began exploring the topographical and architectural structures of Phaselis’s harbours. After Schläger’s death in 1969, the research was conducted under the leadership of the archaeologist J. Schäfer in 1970. H. Schläger, J. Schäfer and their colleagues obtained important data concerning the architecture and history of Phaselis through the surface exploration of the city and its periphery. Following the excavations conducted along the main axial street of the city, in 1980 under the direction of Kayhan Dörtlük, the then Director of the Antalya Museum and between 1981-1985 under the leadership of the archaeologist Cevdet Bayburtluoğlu; underwater exploration was carried out in the South Harbour under the direction of Metin Pehlivaner, the then Director of the Antalya Museum.

  

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phaselis

 

The GRAND GARAGE is the brand new innovation workshop based in the tobacco factory in Linz. The spirit of innovation and the fun of doing things are the program here, learning and growing is the motto. The intention of Makerspace is the networking of the community as well as the support and further development of skills and methodical competences.

 

Credit: Philipp Greindl

These drawings are a methodical interpretation of the first two chapters of A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schzophrenia by Gilles Delueze and Felix Guattari, translated by Brian Massumi, University of Minnesota Press, 1987.

 

The drawings were created as a means of understanding the ideas being presented in the book.

 

Each drawing is labeled by chapter and paragraph.

 

Marc sent these diagrams to Brian Massumi, the translator of A Thousand Plateaus into English, who is currently one of the editors of Inflexions, the online journal for research-creation. The first volume of the journal includes some of these diagrams in the Tangents section.

 

Read more about this work on the project page on the artist's website.

 

Many of these drawings were part of a group art show called Quantal Strife.

Quneitra was once a bustling town in the Golan Heights and southwestern Syria's administrative capital with a population of 37,000. The word Quneitra derives from Qantara, or 'bridge', between Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, and Palestine. Known for its abundant water resources, it has been continuously inhabited since the Stone Age. Over the millennia, many peoples, including Arameans, Assyrians, Caldeans, Persians, Greeks, and Arabs have occupied it. St. Paul, it is said, passed through Quneitra on his way from Damascus to Jerusalem.

 

In 1967, during the six-day war, Israel captured Quneitra. It then became a site of many battles but, except for a brief interlude, remained in Israeli hands until 1974, when a UN-brokered agreement led to an Israeli pullback. Before withdrawing, however, Quneitra was evacuated and systematically destroyed by the Israeli army (based on eyewitness accounts; UN General Assembly resolution 3240 in 1974 condemned Israel's role in its destruction. Israel disputes this account). Many prominent Western reporters, agreeing with the UN and Syrian version of events, saw this as nothing short of an act of wanton brutality — a whole town methodically ransacked, dynamited, and bulldozed.

Catacombs, Montparnasse, Paris

 

I decided that today was a day for going underground, and I set off to Montparnasse to visit the catacombs. These are a vast maze of tunnels under Paris originally used for quarrying the stone out of which the city's main buildings are constructed. In the late 18th Century, the state of the city's churchyards had become so disgusting that the city removed the bones from all of them. They were brought here at night, the carts coming from the centre of the city accompanied by torch-bearing acolytes and priests chanting the requiem Mass. A skull count showed that almost six million corpses were removed in this way. They were buried deep underground, but these people being Parisians the skulls and bones were arranged in a neat and methodical way, a meaningful chaos. Layers of tibia and femurs are crowned by a layer of pelvises and skulls, and so on. Each churchyard was grouped together, and a plaque shows which parish provided the skeletons.

 

The work was interrupted by the French Revolution,which provided plenty more corpses for when the work was resumed. Altogether about a kilometre and a half of tunnels were filled with the remains of dead Parisians, and you can walk through them on a winding route under the streets around Montparnasse station. In fact, this is just a tiny fraction of the tunnels. The catacombs extend for hundreds of kilometres under the city, many of them rarely explored and difficult of access. Because of this, they are regularly broken into by intrepid adventurers, and many legends have grown up about parts of the network. However, my favourite story is one which is true.

 

In 2004, a group of police cadets on a training exercise were given the task of tracking an imaginary criminal in a part of the network which was little known. They got into the system through a manhole, and when they were about a hundred feet underground something rather odd happened. They triggered a motion sensor which set off the sound of barking dogs. Thinking that it was part of the exercise, they headed onwards only to come out into a vast cavern which had been fully equipped as a cinema. An anteroom had been equipped and fully stocked as a bar, and there was also a film storage room. When the cadets reported what they had seen, the electricity board were sent in to work out where the invaders were getting their electricity from. Instead, they found the wires all cut, the equipment removed, and a sign saying 'Don't try to follow us. You'll never find us.'

 

Perhaps the cineastes had got fed up with waiting to get into the system officially, because this was the only place all week that I encountered a serious queue. Worse, I was just in front of a small group of people who talked constantly in very loud voices. She was an American who obviously lived in Paris, and they appeared to be young relatives who'd come to stay. She was taking them down the catacombs, and the price to be paid for this by the poor kids was to suffer her pretentious nonsense. She went on about spirituality, and homeopathy, and psychoanalysis, and the inner energy, and so on. Fair play to the kids, they responded enthusiastically enough.

 

And then she got out some of her stream of consciousness poetry, and started reading it in a loud voice. Well, goodness me. I was put in mind of something the graphic artist Alan Moore said when he was in Hollywood helping turn his 'V for Vendetta' into a film, and he was asked at a director's lunch why he lived in Northampton, England. "Because it keeps me grounded", he replied, and I thought that this was exactly right. It was like the opposite of this pompous woman, although to be fair to her I expect that if I went to live in Paris I would also disappear up my own backside.

 

The catacombs are brilliant, worth every minute of the queuing time, worth every insufferable stream of consciousness adjective. And then I went and did some shopping.

 

You can read my account of my travels at pariswander.blogspot.co.uk.

PRESIDIO OF MONTEREY, Calif. -- It was a double Cinderella story for the Presidio of Monterey volleyball championship Jan. 30 and the 229th Military Intelligence Battalion. Fourth-seeded Company D took on the loser's bracket entry, second-seeded Company A, that was a player short for the championship. The Black Sheep methodically won in the required two matches to become champs over Co. D, 25-12, 19-25, 15-6 and 24-13, 10-25, 15-13.

 

Official Presidio of Monterey Web site

 

Official Presidio of Monterey Facebook

 

PHOTO by Steven L. Shepard, Presidio of Monterey Public Affairs.

Catacombs, Montparnasse, Paris

 

I decided that today was a day for going underground, and I set off to Montparnasse to visit the catacombs. These are a vast maze of tunnels under Paris originally used for quarrying the stone out of which the city's main buildings are constructed. In the late 18th Century, the state of the city's churchyards had become so disgusting that the city removed the bones from all of them. They were brought here at night, the carts coming from the centre of the city accompanied by torch-bearing acolytes and priests chanting the requiem Mass. A skull count showed that almost six million corpses were removed in this way. They were buried deep underground, but these people being Parisians the skulls and bones were arranged in a neat and methodical way, a meaningful chaos. Layers of tibia and femurs are crowned by a layer of pelvises and skulls, and so on. Each churchyard was grouped together, and a plaque shows which parish provided the skeletons.

 

The work was interrupted by the French Revolution,which provided plenty more corpses for when the work was resumed. Altogether about a kilometre and a half of tunnels were filled with the remains of dead Parisians, and you can walk through them on a winding route under the streets around Montparnasse station. In fact, this is just a tiny fraction of the tunnels. The catacombs extend for hundreds of kilometres under the city, many of them rarely explored and difficult of access. Because of this, they are regularly broken into by intrepid adventurers, and many legends have grown up about parts of the network. However, my favourite story is one which is true.

 

In 2004, a group of police cadets on a training exercise were given the task of tracking an imaginary criminal in a part of the network which was little known. They got into the system through a manhole, and when they were about a hundred feet underground something rather odd happened. They triggered a motion sensor which set off the sound of barking dogs. Thinking that it was part of the exercise, they headed onwards only to come out into a vast cavern which had been fully equipped as a cinema. An anteroom had been equipped and fully stocked as a bar, and there was also a film storage room. When the cadets reported what they had seen, the electricity board were sent in to work out where the invaders were getting their electricity from. Instead, they found the wires all cut, the equipment removed, and a sign saying 'Don't try to follow us. You'll never find us.'

 

Perhaps the cineastes had got fed up with waiting to get into the system officially, because this was the only place all week that I encountered a serious queue. Worse, I was just in front of a small group of people who talked constantly in very loud voices. She was an American who obviously lived in Paris, and they appeared to be young relatives who'd come to stay. She was taking them down the catacombs, and the price to be paid for this by the poor kids was to suffer her pretentious nonsense. She went on about spirituality, and homeopathy, and psychoanalysis, and the inner energy, and so on. Fair play to the kids, they responded enthusiastically enough.

 

And then she got out some of her stream of consciousness poetry, and started reading it in a loud voice. Well, goodness me. I was put in mind of something the graphic artist Alan Moore said when he was in Hollywood helping turn his 'V for Vendetta' into a film, and he was asked at a director's lunch why he lived in Northampton, England. "Because it keeps me grounded", he replied, and I thought that this was exactly right. It was like the opposite of this pompous woman, although to be fair to her I expect that if I went to live in Paris I would also disappear up my own backside.

 

The catacombs are brilliant, worth every minute of the queuing time, worth every insufferable stream of consciousness adjective. And then I went and did some shopping.

 

You can read my account of my travels at pariswander.blogspot.co.uk.

Catacombs, Montparnasse, Paris

 

I decided that today was a day for going underground, and I set off to Montparnasse to visit the catacombs. These are a vast maze of tunnels under Paris originally used for quarrying the stone out of which the city's main buildings are constructed. In the late 18th Century, the state of the city's churchyards had become so disgusting that the city removed the bones from all of them. They were brought here at night, the carts coming from the centre of the city accompanied by torch-bearing acolytes and priests chanting the requiem Mass. A skull count showed that almost six million corpses were removed in this way. They were buried deep underground, but these people being Parisians the skulls and bones were arranged in a neat and methodical way, a meaningful chaos. Layers of tibia and femurs are crowned by a layer of pelvises and skulls, and so on. Each churchyard was grouped together, and a plaque shows which parish provided the skeletons.

 

The work was interrupted by the French Revolution,which provided plenty more corpses for when the work was resumed. Altogether about a kilometre and a half of tunnels were filled with the remains of dead Parisians, and you can walk through them on a winding route under the streets around Montparnasse station. In fact, this is just a tiny fraction of the tunnels. The catacombs extend for hundreds of kilometres under the city, many of them rarely explored and difficult of access. Because of this, they are regularly broken into by intrepid adventurers, and many legends have grown up about parts of the network. However, my favourite story is one which is true.

 

In 2004, a group of police cadets on a training exercise were given the task of tracking an imaginary criminal in a part of the network which was little known. They got into the system through a manhole, and when they were about a hundred feet underground something rather odd happened. They triggered a motion sensor which set off the sound of barking dogs. Thinking that it was part of the exercise, they headed onwards only to come out into a vast cavern which had been fully equipped as a cinema. An anteroom had been equipped and fully stocked as a bar, and there was also a film storage room. When the cadets reported what they had seen, the electricity board were sent in to work out where the invaders were getting their electricity from. Instead, they found the wires all cut, the equipment removed, and a sign saying 'Don't try to follow us. You'll never find us.'

 

Perhaps the cineastes had got fed up with waiting to get into the system officially, because this was the only place all week that I encountered a serious queue. Worse, I was just in front of a small group of people who talked constantly in very loud voices. She was an American who obviously lived in Paris, and they appeared to be young relatives who'd come to stay. She was taking them down the catacombs, and the price to be paid for this by the poor kids was to suffer her pretentious nonsense. She went on about spirituality, and homeopathy, and psychoanalysis, and the inner energy, and so on. Fair play to the kids, they responded enthusiastically enough.

 

And then she got out some of her stream of consciousness poetry, and started reading it in a loud voice. Well, goodness me. I was put in mind of something the graphic artist Alan Moore said when he was in Hollywood helping turn his 'V for Vendetta' into a film, and he was asked at a director's lunch why he lived in Northampton, England. "Because it keeps me grounded", he replied, and I thought that this was exactly right. It was like the opposite of this pompous woman, although to be fair to her I expect that if I went to live in Paris I would also disappear up my own backside.

 

The catacombs are brilliant, worth every minute of the queuing time, worth every insufferable stream of consciousness adjective. And then I went and did some shopping.

 

You can read my account of my travels at pariswander.blogspot.co.uk.

Last Friday, Manifesta Foundation and Dutch Culture welcomed over 200 guests to its latest exhibition in collaboration with Martin van Zomeren. The exhibition ‘It ain’t watch write, it’s the way atcha write it’ includes work by Edith Dekyndt, Martijn Hendriks, Alexandra Leykauf, Fiona Mackay, Katja Mater, Jean-Baptiste Maitre, Navid Nuur, Nick Oberthaler, Cornelius Quabeck and Anne de Vries.

 

Ranging from videoworks, sculptures, paintings and installations, the exhibition explores the practice of 10 Dutch and international artists. Some of them express clear statements about society and cultural history while others investigate their surroundings in a methodical way fluctuating between objectivity and experience.

 

Thank you to everyone who participated and came along to the Amsterdam office. For those who missed the opening, tours of the building at the Herengracht 474 can be booked via secretariaat@manifesta.org.

 

More information about the exhibition here – manifesta.org/2014/05/it-aint-whatcha-write-its-the-way-a...

 

This is "328 Mike" from Campbell's Towing. He was amazing. We took off the bike rack, took all the air out of the uphill tire, and then lifted the truck up by it's frame rails. Pretty amazing work, done slowly and methodically. No drama. Thanks Mike!

Lot-14104-5: USS United States vs. HMS Macedonian, October 25, 1812. On 25 October 1812, the frigate United States, commanded by Stephen Decatur, captured the British frigate Macedonian, commanded by John S. Carden, west of the Canary Islands. During battle, United States broadsided the British frigate and destroyed her mizzen top mast, which let her driver gaff fall. This advantage allowed United States to riddle the enemy methodically with shot. After surrender, Macedonian was eventually repaired and entered into U.S. Naval service. Courtesy of the Library of Congress. (2017/09/01).

Catacombs, Montparnasse, Paris

 

I decided that today was a day for going underground, and I set off to Montparnasse to visit the catacombs. These are a vast maze of tunnels under Paris originally used for quarrying the stone out of which the city's main buildings are constructed. In the late 18th Century, the state of the city's churchyards had become so disgusting that the city removed the bones from all of them. They were brought here at night, the carts coming from the centre of the city accompanied by torch-bearing acolytes and priests chanting the requiem Mass. A skull count showed that almost six million corpses were removed in this way. They were buried deep underground, but these people being Parisians the skulls and bones were arranged in a neat and methodical way, a meaningful chaos. Layers of tibia and femurs are crowned by a layer of pelvises and skulls, and so on. Each churchyard was grouped together, and a plaque shows which parish provided the skeletons.

 

The work was interrupted by the French Revolution,which provided plenty more corpses for when the work was resumed. Altogether about a kilometre and a half of tunnels were filled with the remains of dead Parisians, and you can walk through them on a winding route under the streets around Montparnasse station. In fact, this is just a tiny fraction of the tunnels. The catacombs extend for hundreds of kilometres under the city, many of them rarely explored and difficult of access. Because of this, they are regularly broken into by intrepid adventurers, and many legends have grown up about parts of the network. However, my favourite story is one which is true.

 

In 2004, a group of police cadets on a training exercise were given the task of tracking an imaginary criminal in a part of the network which was little known. They got into the system through a manhole, and when they were about a hundred feet underground something rather odd happened. They triggered a motion sensor which set off the sound of barking dogs. Thinking that it was part of the exercise, they headed onwards only to come out into a vast cavern which had been fully equipped as a cinema. An anteroom had been equipped and fully stocked as a bar, and there was also a film storage room. When the cadets reported what they had seen, the electricity board were sent in to work out where the invaders were getting their electricity from. Instead, they found the wires all cut, the equipment removed, and a sign saying 'Don't try to follow us. You'll never find us.'

 

Perhaps the cineastes had got fed up with waiting to get into the system officially, because this was the only place all week that I encountered a serious queue. Worse, I was just in front of a small group of people who talked constantly in very loud voices. She was an American who obviously lived in Paris, and they appeared to be young relatives who'd come to stay. She was taking them down the catacombs, and the price to be paid for this by the poor kids was to suffer her pretentious nonsense. She went on about spirituality, and homeopathy, and psychoanalysis, and the inner energy, and so on. Fair play to the kids, they responded enthusiastically enough.

 

And then she got out some of her stream of consciousness poetry, and started reading it in a loud voice. Well, goodness me. I was put in mind of something the graphic artist Alan Moore said when he was in Hollywood helping turn his 'V for Vendetta' into a film, and he was asked at a director's lunch why he lived in Northampton, England. "Because it keeps me grounded", he replied, and I thought that this was exactly right. It was like the opposite of this pompous woman, although to be fair to her I expect that if I went to live in Paris I would also disappear up my own backside.

 

The catacombs are brilliant, worth every minute of the queuing time, worth every insufferable stream of consciousness adjective. And then I went and did some shopping.

 

You can read my account of my travels at pariswander.blogspot.co.uk.

(further information you can get by copying the link at the end of page and then clicking on it!)

History

 

Plaque to the founder of the Hyrtl'schen orphanage Joseph Hyrtl and Joseph Schöffel

© IMAREAL / E. Vavra

The Biedermeier-influenced city on the edge of the Vienna Woods is the capital of the district Mödling in the south of Vienna. The town has experienced in its 1100-year history since the first mention very different phases: in the Middle Ages briefly Babenberg residence, for centuries an economically potent wine market, from the 19th Century summer resort and industrial center, since 1875 town, in the 20th Century for almost two decades XXIVth district of Vienna, since 1954 again an independent municipality of Lower Austria and as a school and garden city popular residential area in the vicinity of Vienna.

Mödling has partnerships with cities in France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Hungary, Czech Republic, Serbia, Bulgaria and Italy.

The historical tradition of Mödling goes back far beyond the first written mention, how settlement finds from the Neolithic Age, Hallstatt period (eg calendar mountain) and Roman times as well as the great Avar burial ground "at the Golden Staircase" from the 7/8th Century BCE prove. In the year 903 Mödling is first mentioned (Medilihha). The later settlement was probably made in the 11th Century beneath an early castle building on the church mountain (Kirchenberg), where later a Romanesque predecessor of Othmar church was built.

In the late 12th century Mödling was for a few decades the residence of a Babenberg branch line. Henry the Elder, a brother of Duke Leopold V., had since the 1170 century belongings in and around Mödling. He and his son Henry the Younger, calling himself "Duke of Mödling", resided on the castle probably built around 1150 in the Klausen, among whose most famous visitors was Walther von der Vogelweide. With the death of Henry the Younger in 1236 extinguished the Mödlinger line of the Babenberg and the reign became princely domain. The time of the Babenberg commemorates the in late 12th Century built Romanesque ossuary at Othmar church - a circular building with an apse - as well as the denomination "Babenberg".

In the late Middle Ages, Medlich developed into a major wine market (1343 mention of market town) which in the 15th Century as one of the four princely spell markets was also represented in the Parliament - in addition to Gumpoldskirchen, Langenlois and Perchtoldsdorf. For centuries shaped the wine-growing the economy and social structure. The Mödlinger wine was good and helped the market particularly in the 15th and 16th Century to its prosperity. The settlement reached at the end of the Middle Ages that extent, which until the 19th Century should remain essentially unchanged. The center formed ​​the area around the Schrannenplatz with a dense stand of late medieval and early modern town houses that bear evidence of the wealth and self-confidence of the citizens of the market town. From the late medieval Schrannen building, the official residence of the market judge, was created in 1548 the representative Renaissance town hall with loggia.

The elevated lying Othmar church became in the 15th Century by transferring the rights of the church of St. Martin parish church of Mödling. The massive late Gothic church was built in a nearly 70-year construction period from 1454 to 1523 on the walls of six predecessors and able to resist fortified. As Mödling was destroyed in 1529 by the Ottomans, the just completed church lost its roof and remained for over a century till the restoration in 1660/70 a ruin. On the Merian engraving from 1649 the uncovered Othmar church on the left side is clearly visible. As a temporary parish church served the about 1450 built late-Gothic hospital church.

The internal conditions at this time were mainly marked of the clashes of the market with the princely rule Burg Mödling - since 1558 combined with the rule of Liechtenstein - which reached its climax in 1600 under the energetic administrator Georg Wiesing (1593-1611). During the Reformation, the market largely became Protestant. In the course of recatholicization a Capuchin monastery was founded in 1631, which served as a factory after the repeal under Joseph II and was then bought by the Thonet family (so-called Thonet Schlössel, today Bezirksmuseum).

In Türkenjahr 1683 (besiegement of the Turks) took place in the Othmar church a horrific bloodbath, in which hundreds of people who had sought refuge there were killed. The church was destroyed again, but this time built up rapidly with the market judge Wolfgang Ignaz Viechtl in a few years.

End of the 18th Century occurred in Mödling the settlement of industrial enterprises, especially textile mills that took advantage of the cheaper production possibilities and also its proximity to Vienna. Was decisively shaped the character of the place but by the rise to a summer resort, initiated by Prince Johann I of Liechtenstein beginning of the 19th Century, which acquired in 1807 the rule of Liechtenstein-Mödling with the former family ancestral home. He had the area under enormous cost reforested (Schirmföhren/pinus mugo, acacia, etc.) and transformed to a public park in Romantic style with promenade paths, steep paths and artificial constructions (Black tower, amphitheater, Husarentempel). The ruined castles Mödling and Liechtenstein were restored. The former Liechtenstein'sche landscape park is considered a remarkable example of the garden culture in 1800 and is now a popular tourist destination (1974 Natural Preserve Föhrenberge).

Since the Biedermeier Mödling in the summer was an extremely popular artist hangout. Among the most famous artists of the 19th Century who were inspired by the romantic nature here, were Franz Schubert, Franz Grillparzer, Ferdinand Waldmüller, Ferdinand Raimund and Ludwig van Beethoven, who here worked on one of his major works, the "Missa Solemnis". In the 20th Century settled inter alia Arnold Schönberg, Anton von Webern, Anton Wildgans, Franz Theodor Csokor and Albert Drach temporarily or permanently down. To Beethoven, Schönberg and Wildgans memorials have been established (Beethoven House, Schönberg House, Wildgans archive).

In the second half of the 19th Century Mödling became administrative center (District Court, District administration) and an industrial site and educational location with high schools and colleges (eg educational establishment Francisco-Josephinum). The good traffic situation at the southern railway, the progressive industrialization and the expansion of health facilities (park, Kursalon) led to a rapid expansion of the hitherto for centuries unchanged market. Under mayor Joseph Schöffel (1873-1882), who became famous because of his successful engagement against the deforestation of the Vienna Woods as the "savior of the Vienna Woods", followed the methodical installation of the so-called Schoeffel(before) city - Schöffelvorstadt (New Mödling) east of the Southern Railway and the establishment of workers' settlements. Later followed the exclusive residential areas of the turn of the century with their representative residential buildings. Probably the most important building of the late 19th Century is the Hyrtl'sche orphanage (1886-1889), founded by the Viennese anatomist, Joseph Hyrtl and Joseph Schöffel. The Orphanage church St. Joseph was built on the in 1787 demolished Martin Church.

On 18th November 1875 the emerging market town was raised to the status of a city, two years later the incorporation of Klausen and Vorderbrühl took place. Through the establishment of Great-Vienna under the Nazi regime on 15th October 1938 the young city for 16 years lost its municipal autonomy; 1954 it became again a part of Lower Austria.

Symbol for the characteristic environment of Mödling was the "width pine" on the Anninger whose age goes back to the 16th Century (around 1550). It was a well-known natural landmark and has become the symbol of the city. 1988 died the tree and it had to be removed in 1997 for safety reasons. The remains are now in the Lower Austrian Provincial Museum.

geschichte.landesmuseum.net/index.asp?contenturl=http://g...

Joseph Pitton de Tournefort (1656-1708) was a French botanist. He was born to a well-to-do family in Aix-en-Provence. Tournefort initially took up studies in theology. However, as he had a marked inclination towards natural sciences, he turned to medicine. He completed his studies at the University of Montpellier. In 1681, he was in Barcelona doing research in botany. In 1694 Tournefort published his first three-volume work, in which he classified 8846 plants. In 1698 he became Doctor in Medicine of the University of Paris. At that time his treatise was also translated into Latin. Tournefort became a famous physician and naturalist. He travelled extensively in Western Europe (Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands, England). He had published a number of works on botany, and had acquired a fabulous collection of nearly 50.000 books, as well as costumes, arms, minerals, shells and various curiosities. Thus, he already had a very important career behind him when Louis XIV entrusted him with the mission to bring new plants to the Royal Botanical Garden.

 

Tournefort started out on his voyage to the Near East in the spring of 1700, at the age of 44, accompanied by a painter and a doctor. He visited thirty-eight islands of the Greek archipelago, as well as Northern Anatolia, Pontus and Armenia, and reached Tiflis in Georgia. Tournefort returned to Marseilles in June 1702.

 

His manuscript, composed of his letters to the Minister of the Exterior Count de Pontchartain, was published posthumously in 1717. A number of re-editions followed, while his work was also translated into English, German and Flemish. There is also a Greek translation of the first part. The fact that Tournefort had discovered new plants in his journey led him to publish a supplement to his main work of botanical classification in 1703. He taught Botany in the Académie, while continuing to practice medicine; at the same time, he was in charge of the Royal Gardens, where many plants he brought from his travels were cultivated with success. Having survived a multitude of adventures, Tournefort died of an accident in 1708. He did not live to see the publication of his travel chronicle, which in the following three centuries became the basic manual to all travellers to these regions. Until today, researchers from numerous fields turn to Tournefort’s text, as it remains an invaluable source of information. He describes the places he visited in a particular systematic manner.

 

The systematic way he organizes his information on topography, economy, administration, ethnic composition, customs and habits of everyday life shows how one can arrive at truth and knowledge through research, methodical study, classification and generalisation. To document his research, Tournefort cites a hundred and thirty-five texts by Greek and Latin authors as well as Byzantine writers, Humanists, and earlier travel accounts.

 

He methodically narrates his visit to each island, and describes the locations as well as events that he witnessed and encounters with locals. He then continues with the island’s history from ancient times to the current age, citing the corresponding myths, and comparing with the information provided by ancient coins. Subsequently, he writes on the island’s administration and taxes, commerce, products and prices thereof. An entire chapter is dedicated to the Greek church. Tournefort also writes on monasteries and churches, house architecture and caves. He also describes the customs, the dress and the occupations of the inhabitants. He concludes his chapters with geographical observations from the highest point of each main region.

 

Naturally, his work includes engravings of city views, locations and monuments as well as plants, instruments and costumes. The text becomes alive with vivid descriptions of his encounters with islanders, be it Turks, Franks, Greeks or privateers. Of special interest are his descriptions of fortresses, ports, safe havens and his information on map drawing.

 

The second volume is a publication of his thoroughly documented manuscripts. It was not edited by Tournefort himself as had happened with the first. On numerous occasions he refers to the politics, administration and ethnic composition of the Ottoman Empire. He continues with his journey on the southern coast of the Black Sea to Armenia. The work closes with a short description of Smyrna and Ephesus.

 

Tournefort is considered the first to have shown the islands of the Archipelago to be “travel material”, as he offered information which inspired the interest for further research, and also highlighed each location’s wealth and uniqueness.

 

Written by Ioli Vingopoulou

 

Fransız botanikçi Joseph Pitton de Tournefort (1656-1708) Aix-en-Provence'da varlıklı bir aile içinde doğar, ilk önce tanrıbilim (teoloji) dersleri izler ancak genç yaştan beri doğa bilimlerine eğilim gösterir. Bu yüzden Montpellier'de tıp öğrenimi görüp 1681'de botanik araştırmaları yapmak üzere Barcelona'ya gelir. 1694 yılında üç ciltlik ve 8.846 bitkinin sınıflandırmasına ilişkin ilk eserini yayınlar; 1698'de Paris Tıp Fakültesinden doktor unvanını alır ve bu kazanımı yapıtının latince çevirisi izler. Doktor ve doğa bilimcisi olarak ün salmış, Batı Avrupa'da (İspanya, Portekiz, Hollanda, İngiltere'ye) seyahat etmiş, botanoloji ile ilgili kitaplar yayınlamış, 50.000'e yakın kitaptan meydana gelen bir kitaplık oluşturmuş, ayrıca yerel kıyafet, silah, mineral, deniz kabuğu ve daha başka ilginç şeylerden oluşan hayranlık uyandıran koleksiyonlar sahibi olmuşken, kral 14. Louis ona Kraliyet Botanik Bahçesine yeni bitkiler getirme görevini verir. Tournefort 1700 yılının ilkbaharında, 44 yaşındayken, yanına yoldaş olarak bir ressam ve bir doktor alarak Yakın Doğu'ya doğru yola çıkar.

 

Ege adalarından 38 tanesini ziyaret eder, Kuzey Anadolu'nun her tarafını gezip Karadeniz ve Ermenistan yörelerine gelir, Tiflis'e varır. Tournefort, 1702 yılının Haziran ayında Marsilya'da karaya ayak basar.

 

Kaleme aldığı metin (Dışişleri bakanı Kont de Pontchartain'e yolladığı mektuplar biçiminde) ilk olarak 1717'de yayınlanır, bu ilk yayını bir çok yeni baskı izler ve eser ingilizce, almanca ve flamanca gibi dillere- ilk kısmı yunancaya da - çevrilir. Yeni keşfettiği bitkilerin daha önce belirlemiş olduğu sınıflandırma sistemine eklenmesi sonucu olarak 1703'te yeni bir cilt yayınlar. Tournefort botanik profesörü sıfatıyla Akademide dersler verir, doktorluk mesleğini ve bunlara koşut olarak Kraliyet Bahçesinin sorumluluğu görevini sürdürür. Gezilerinden getirmiş olduğu birçok yeni bitki bu bahçede başarılı bir şekilde yetiştirilir. Tournefort geçirdiği birçok maceradan kefeni yırtmışken, üç asır boyunca her gezginin bu bölge için başucu kitabı olacak seyahatnamesinin yayınlanmasını göremeden 1708'de bir kaza sonucu ölür. Bugün hâlâ çeşitli dallardan araştırmacılar Tournefort'un metnine başvurup son derece değerli bilgilerinden faydalanmak durumundalar. Eseri anında ingilizce, hollandaca ve almancaya çevrilmişti.

 

Gezdiği yerleri betimlerken belirli bir yöntem izleyerek topoğrafya, ekonomi, yönetim, milletler sentezi ve günlük yaşamdaki örf ve adetlere ilişkin bilgiler verirken, Tournefort, bilginin gerçeğe uyup uymadığı konusuna araştırma, düzenli okuma, sınıflandırma ve genelleştirme yoluyla yanaşılabileceğini kanıtlıyor. Kanıtlayıcı belgeleri arasında antik Yunan ve Latin yazarlarından, ayrıca Bizans yazarlarından ve daha eski hümanist bilgin ve gezginlerden 135 tane metin bulunmakta.

 

Ziyaret ettiği her ada için düzenli olarak ziyaretini anlatıp birçok yeri ve olayı hatta yerlilerle olan görüşmelerini de betimler. Bunlara ek olarak, adanın eski çağlardan gününe dek tarihi ve bununla ilintili efsaneler, sikkeler hakkında, yönetim, vergilendirme usulleri, ticaret, ürünler ve fiyatları hakkında bilgiler verir. Ayrıca Yunanistan'ın dinî (kilise) yaşamına başlıbaşına bir bölüm ayırır. Manastırlar, kiliseler, evlerin mimarisi, mağaralar hakkında yazar, adetler ve kıyafetleri betimleyip halkın uğraşlarından sözeder ve önemli yörelerin her birinin en yüksek irtifasından yaptığı coğrafya gözlemleri ile anlatımını bitirir.

 

Doğal olarak eserinde şehir, yer, anıt, bitki, alet, ve kıyafet görünümleri ile ilgili gravürler de yer almakta. Ayrıca metni ada halkıyla (Türkler, Latinler, Yunanlılar, korsanlarla) ilişkilerinden çarpıcı betimlemelerle de çeşitlenir. Kitabında hisarlar, gemi barınakları, güvenli limanlar hakkında yaptığı betimlemeler ve harita çizimi ile ilgili verdiği bilgiler özel ilgi uyandıran kısımlar arasındadır.

 

Eserinin birinci cildinin yayına hazırlığını kendisi denetlemişken ikinci cilt kendi ayrıntılı yazılarına sadık kalınarak basılır. Bu cildin başındaki birçok bölüm Osmanlıların siyasal, yönetimsel ve etnografik durumuna ayrılmıştır. Bunun devamında Karadeniz'in güney kıyılarında yaptığı Ermenistan'a kadar varan yolculuğunu anlatıp kitabı İzmir ve Efes'in kısa bir betimlemesi ile bitirir.

 

Böylece Tournefort, başkalarında arayış isteğini besleyecek nitelikte malzeme sağlamanın yanısıra, gördüğü her yerin sonsuz zengiliğini ve kendine özgü niteliklerini yüzeye çıkarması açısından Ege adalarına bir "yolculuk uknumu" veren ilk şahıs olarak bilinir.

 

Yazan: İoli Vingopoulou

 

1903. Side and rear view of Station showing proximity to Merrimack River. A protective dike was constructed following the 1901 flood. The 1936 flood inundated all this area including the main laboratory buildings up to a level just below the laboratory benches.

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The Station's Middle Years

 

For sixty-five years the studies of the intermittent filtration of sewage have gone on their methodical way and still the last word has not yet been said en that subject. One finding opens up another question and that leads to further planned research. Just why, for instance, does it improve performance in some coarse grain filters to re-circulate a part of the effluent? What are the best proportions of re-circulated effluent and raw sewage during each of the seasons? What about the useful disposal of gas formed in sludge? What to do about the seasonal variations in the "pH" of raw sewage? These are only some of the questions for which the final answers are only now being worked out.

 

But the treatment of domestic sewage became only a lesser part of the total research effort of the Station. Other and more insistent problems presented themselves during the early and "middle years" of the Lawrence Experiment Station history — the "twenties" and "thirties" and on into the "forties." In one field alone, the problem of industrial wastes, the continuing researches would have justified the long existence of the Experiment Station. It has been a quiet year indeed when the expanding industries of New England have not added at least one new industrial process to what constitutes the economic life-blood of the region. And many of the new processes bring with them a new problem — the disposal of the waste products they create.

 

Industrial wastes uncared for may create an intolerable nuisance when poured into streams. They may make the waters totally unfit for drinking purposes, or they may ruin the streams for other industrial use. Not unimportant also is the damage industrial wastes can do to streams as places for recreation. On the other side of the coin, is the fact that research sometimes leads the way to valuable compounds which may be recovered from the wastes thought to be only useless but hazardous to life and property.

 

Researches in the treatment and disposal of industrial wastes began at the Experiment Station as early as 1895. That year one of the experimental sand filters. received wool scourings with eventual purification — though at an extremely low rate. Paper-mill wastes were applied to another filter and more satisfactory results were achieved. The following year tannery wastes were tried on both a sand filter and a trickling filter of coke. Soon textile wastes were being pre-treated by passing them over iron filings, and in 1901 dye wastes were subjected to study.

 

The staff early recognized that many industrial wastes would require different treatment methods than those used for domestic sewage because these wastes were damaging to the bacterial growth necessary for sewage treatment, so determined efforts were made to minimize the bacteria-killing factors in these chemicals by coagulation and chemical treatment.

 

In 1900 Mr. Clark enumerated the five chief difficulties in the biological treatment of sewage raised by the addition of industrial wastes:—their bactericidal action; excessive carbonaceous matter; volume of liquor; varying chemical characteristic of wastes from essentially similar industrial processes from plant to plant; and liability of change in process in any plant. This statement made almost a half century ago is still a concise and pertinent picture of the difficulties still encountered. The only additional factor is that of entirely new products, processes and wastes continually being introduced in an aggressive industrial expansion.

 

Work through the years established the fact that many industrial wastes highly bactericidal could by pre-treatment be reduced to a condition that permitted them to be added safely to municipal sewage, but the problems of making them safe were found to be enormous and to vary markedly from season to season and from waste to waste. What and how much chemicals must be added? How great is the dilution required? How are filters to be made accustomed to each new waste? How much recirculation will be required in each instance? Questions like these all called for long and painstaking studies to find the answers, as they do to this day. But the answers were found as year followed year, and these answers often were crucial to the continued industrial development of Massachusetts, as well as to the health of the people of the State.

 

Study of industrial wastes has continued unremittingly to this very day as one of the most productive services of the Experiment Station and it is logical to assume that similar studies will be required as long as the Commonwealth continues its policy of industrial expansion and diversification.

 

   

With vast experience and consummate ease, my nephew ambles methodically through his pre flight checks to ensure a safe flight in the little company owned Cessna which his boss has so graciously allowed him to take us excited English folk skywards over the Gulf island in. It's a beautifully bright, calm morning outside the Flying club at Victoria International airport, as he checks his Empennage, whatever that is, and does whatever it is that a pilot does with his tail tie downs, rudder gust locks and trim tabs.

  

I'm relieved to note that the Avionics master switch is set to the off position, as you don't want a nasty occurrence with one of those now, do you. Martin taps the fuel dials just like they do in the Hollywood blockbusters when the aircraft is hurtling in a downwards spiral to the deep blue sea showing no fuel on board, and he jokes about us not trying to open the emergency exit during our flight. He won't be laughing when I do! The annunciator panel switch and static pressure source valves are both off which I must say is a real source of relief to my wife, as she often has nightmares over someone leaving the darn things on.

  

I point out to Martin that it's time for him to enter hobbs and tach times and check his pilot tubes for blockages but he assures me he's been to the wash room prior to taking off. He extends his flaps, always a neat party trick in a confined space, and makes sure that his beacon, nav, strobe and taxi lights are functional. Taxi light..... excuse me but there's no room left in here for any other members of the public wanting a taxi ride.

  

Martin shows us where our fire extinguisher and life vests are and explains the emergency evacuation procedure, which basically involves us screaming loudly and getting the hell out of the cockpit as soon as our limbs will allows us if we suddenly notice that the pilot has jumped out already. We are so fortunate to be given the opportunity of this flight, a treat that Martin has laid on for us on a few of our vacations, affording us such incredible views over the beautiful Islands and inlets that we call our second home. The only downside are wearing those big green headphones which make you look like Princess laya in Star wars, with two big cinnamon buns as hair, and as for the microphones which are activate by touching your lips.... I have yet to master those puppies.

  

Soon we are on board, and raring to go. OK, Martin, Chocks away and all that, raise left rudder and give the old girl a bit of welly would you, there's a good chap!

   

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Written December 24th 2009

 

Photograph taken of the lovely little four seater Cessna that we used at the flying club, Victoria International airport, BC on September 30th 2008

  

Nikon D300 18mm 1/250s f/8.0 iso200

 

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A Cushion Starfish motoring across the sea floor. You can see the suction feet stirring up sediment. I’ve never seen one move this quickly. On a serious mission.

 

These may look like innocuous and beautiful creatures. But they are voracious predators. Using their slow and methodical suction cups to pry open molluscs, so they can inject their stomach into their shell, digesting them from the inside out.

 

Ikelite DS-50 Camera left

Catacombs, Montparnasse, Paris

 

I decided that today was a day for going underground, and I set off to Montparnasse to visit the catacombs. These are a vast maze of tunnels under Paris originally used for quarrying the stone out of which the city's main buildings are constructed. In the late 18th Century, the state of the city's churchyards had become so disgusting that the city removed the bones from all of them. They were brought here at night, the carts coming from the centre of the city accompanied by torch-bearing acolytes and priests chanting the requiem Mass. A skull count showed that almost six million corpses were removed in this way. They were buried deep underground, but these people being Parisians the skulls and bones were arranged in a neat and methodical way, a meaningful chaos. Layers of tibia and femurs are crowned by a layer of pelvises and skulls, and so on. Each churchyard was grouped together, and a plaque shows which parish provided the skeletons.

 

The work was interrupted by the French Revolution,which provided plenty more corpses for when the work was resumed. Altogether about a kilometre and a half of tunnels were filled with the remains of dead Parisians, and you can walk through them on a winding route under the streets around Montparnasse station. In fact, this is just a tiny fraction of the tunnels. The catacombs extend for hundreds of kilometres under the city, many of them rarely explored and difficult of access. Because of this, they are regularly broken into by intrepid adventurers, and many legends have grown up about parts of the network. However, my favourite story is one which is true.

 

In 2004, a group of police cadets on a training exercise were given the task of tracking an imaginary criminal in a part of the network which was little known. They got into the system through a manhole, and when they were about a hundred feet underground something rather odd happened. They triggered a motion sensor which set off the sound of barking dogs. Thinking that it was part of the exercise, they headed onwards only to come out into a vast cavern which had been fully equipped as a cinema. An anteroom had been equipped and fully stocked as a bar, and there was also a film storage room. When the cadets reported what they had seen, the electricity board were sent in to work out where the invaders were getting their electricity from. Instead, they found the wires all cut, the equipment removed, and a sign saying 'Don't try to follow us. You'll never find us.'

 

Perhaps the cineastes had got fed up with waiting to get into the system officially, because this was the only place all week that I encountered a serious queue. Worse, I was just in front of a small group of people who talked constantly in very loud voices. She was an American who obviously lived in Paris, and they appeared to be young relatives who'd come to stay. She was taking them down the catacombs, and the price to be paid for this by the poor kids was to suffer her pretentious nonsense. She went on about spirituality, and homeopathy, and psychoanalysis, and the inner energy, and so on. Fair play to the kids, they responded enthusiastically enough.

 

And then she got out some of her stream of consciousness poetry, and started reading it in a loud voice. Well, goodness me. I was put in mind of something the graphic artist Alan Moore said when he was in Hollywood helping turn his 'V for Vendetta' into a film, and he was asked at a director's lunch why he lived in Northampton, England. "Because it keeps me grounded", he replied, and I thought that this was exactly right. It was like the opposite of this pompous woman, although to be fair to her I expect that if I went to live in Paris I would also disappear up my own backside.

 

The catacombs are brilliant, worth every minute of the queuing time, worth every insufferable stream of consciousness adjective. And then I went and did some shopping.

 

You can read my account of my travels at pariswander.blogspot.co.uk.

In spite of struggles with terribly annoying allergies, we headed down south, 113 miles, to Brigantine’s wildlife refuge, for we knew that there would only be several more weeks before weekend drives to anywhere along the Shore would be horrific, and not to mention, the aggressive green flies that appear in the summer months. Granted, one can appreciate a good deal from within the vehicles when driving the 8-mile loop, but trying to take shots behind the thick glass causes the loss of one or two F-Stops, making the photos less sharp.

Ospreys were in abundance, seemingly claiming every raised nesting tower available, in addition to natural trees that serve perfectly for their kinds of nest construction. It certainly appeared that a number of the mating couples had already eggs that needed attending, which was a rather common sight during our visit. Also, we saw many Ospreys flying high above, surveying the water below in search of nice fish to enjoy. Unfortunately, we never had the chance to see any successful catches—as was the case with the Great Egrets we saw. Occasionally we would see a few scavengers—Gulls—at the foot of these raised platforms, waiting to grab any morsels dropped from above as the Ospreys would methodically eat the fish.

The Edwin B Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge in Galloway Township, but commonly known as Brigantine, New Jersey, was originally established in 1939 with the Brigantine name, and again in 1967 as a combination with the Barnegat Division, in order to protect the natural wetlands for the regular wildlife inhabitants and the migratory birds that follow the Atlantic Flyway as they travel north and south throughout the year. Later in 1984, the two joined under the name of the current Edwin B Forsythe in honoring the late NJ Congressman and Conservationist.

The overwhelming majority of the area is wetlands and the within that, most of it is of a salt marsh nature. The roughly 47,000 acres of protective landscape is quite vast—wonderfully seen from the observation towers—and a well maintained 8-mile main drive, with several shorter extensions and songbird trails for hikers are available for more exploration. There are a number of raised platform nesting sites away from the drive for some of the raptors (eagles, ospreys, falcons, etc.) and a few observation towers along the driving route. These do offer better wide range vantage points; however, given the way the vegetative growth by the roadside is nicely trimmed back within reason, much of the wildlife can be appreciated right from the vehicles. And speaking of wildlife, there is a wealth of fascinating birds and other critters to admire.

One does not need to be a birder to enjoy the visit, for the overall landscape is so very beautiful and peaceful. The famous Atlantic City with its numerous casino resorts and attractive skyline sits mostly to the south and east, depending on where you are at the time, and, of course, just beyond that is the great Atlantic Ocean. When capturing AC or any of the vast landscape under the right lighting conditions, namely “Magic Hour” toward the end of the day or early morning, the overall scenery can be captivating.

 

Birth: Dec. 28, 1822

Washington

Washington County

Pennsylvania, USA

Death: Sep. 12, 1900

Council Bluffs

Pottawattamie County

Iowa, USA

 

Obituiary:

 

Nonpareil, Council Bluffs, IA, Thursday, September 13, 1900, Page 1

 

DEATH OF A PIONEER

THOMAS OFFICER SUCCUMBS AT THE AGE OF 77.

IDENTIFIED WITH THE CITY FOR HALF A CENTURY.

SUCCESSFUL IN BUSINESS AND GENEROUS WITH FELLOWMEN.

Close of a Life of Remarkable Activity Along Many Lines, With Great Effort for Good.

 

Thomas Officer, one of the men whose lives have been woven into the growth of the city and have been made part of the history of Council Bluffs, died yesterday about noon at his home on Willow avenue, after a brief illness, which began on Monday of last week at Leadville, Col., where he had been spending the summer. During the recent months the members of the family, as they have seen him from day to day, were loathe to believe that he was failing in strength, but as they look back now they realize that for several months his vitality has been giving away. He realized that he had not long to live and as he put it "was living on borrowed time," but he was anxious to hold out to the last and die in the harness.

Left to Avoid the Heat.

 

Feeling oppressed by the intense heat of early July, Mr. Officer suddenly left for Colorado, where he hoped to feel better. After spending a day or two in Denver, he hurried on to Leadville only to find that he had made the change too suddenly and that he must seek a lower altitude for a time. He immediately returned to Denver, where he found business that called him to Kansas, and on his return to Denver he started again for Leadville by easy stages. This accomplished the desired result, for by the time he had again reached the higher altitude his system had become accustomed to the change and he seemed to get along well. Letters written home told of his enjoyment of the summer and of the improvement in the condition of the health of his son, William P., who was there with him and who was tramping the mountains.

 

Monday night of last week he was taken sick with a bowel trouble, but Tuesday he was better and went down town. That night the illness came on him again and with greater severity. During the night he caught cold and when morning came he was found to be seriously ill and suffering from a nervous chill. He was then taken to St. Luke's hospital until Saturday, when his son started home with him. They missed connections at Denver and Mr. Officer lay all day Sunday in the sleeper on a side track outside of Denver and arrived here on Monday. Mrs. Officer and her son, Charles T. Officer, started from here Saturday to meet the sick man, but owing to the failure of the connections the meeting failed and Mrs. Officer and son spent Sunday in a Kansas town where they met the returning party on Monday. After arriving here, Mr. Officer failed rapidly and it was seen that his death was only a question of a short time.

Sketch of His Life.

 

Thomas Officer was born near Little Washington, Washington county, Pennsylvania, December 28, 1822, and was the son of Robert and Margaret Scott Officer. He graduated from Washington-Jefferson college at the age of 17 years with the highest honors of his class, and, being set apart for the ministry, he attended Princeton theological seminary where he was a classmate and companion of many of the great theologians of the Presbyterian church--for instance Dr. William Paxton with whom, throughout their lives, he was a close friend. His eyes failed him after two years of close application to the profession of his choice and he had to seek a vocation where he could use his hands rather than his eyes. He received the appointment of instructor at the Ohio institute for the Deaf and Dumb at Columbus, where he remained several years and until selected by the legislature of Illinois to build and act as president of the Institute for the Deaf and Dumb Jacksonville. He organized that school and laid out the grounds for the building which is now one of the objects of pride in Illinois. Ten years later he came west to enter up some land at Sioux City and Council Bluffs.

Came to Council Bluffs.

 

That was the beginning of his acquaintance with this section of the country. In the following year he went back to Illinois for his family and Council Bluffs has since been his home and the center of his interests. He was associated in the removal west with W. H. M. Pusey and the two men established the private bank of Officer & Pusey in 1857. This bank has stood through all of the panics and financial troubles which have since swept over this country and it is said it is the only one of seventeen banks in this city that went safely through the panic of 1857. Together the men have engaged in various enterprises in this vicinity, though in the main they have held to their banking and real estate business. At times they would pick up some business on a mortgage and carry it on until they had secured the money they had invested and would then dispose of the property at a profit. In this way they have successfully managed lumber yards, saw and grist mills and other enterprises.

 

But Mr. Officer was not a selfish man and where he saw a movement which should be undertaken for the good of the city, he did not hesitate to embark in it. When he came here he was lost without a Presbyterian church so he immediately organized one and from that time until his death was a ruling elder in the church in this city. He has always contributed generously to the support and maintenance of the organization and to kindred interests. He organized the first school in the city, seeing that there was no place to educate the children and realizing that such must not be neglected. He was the principal owner and builder of the first electric light works in the city, later selling it out to other parties. Mr. Officer has served the public as a councilman and for years was a member and president of the school board.

Help to the Deaf and Dumb.

 

His fame as an expert instructor in the sign language of the deaf and dumb induced the legislature of Iowa to locate at Council Bluffs the state institute for the deaf and Dumb, largely that the state and the afflicted children would receive the advantages of his council and wide experience in the successful eleemosynary institution of Iowa. With Hon. Caleb Baldwin and Maj. Gen. Grenville M. Dodge, he selected the site for the institution and formulated the plan of organization. He was a member of the board of directors and for years its president.

 

Mr. Officer was married August 8, 1848, to Miss Elizabeth M. Pusey, a sister of W. H. M. Pusey, and all through these more than fifty-two years she has been his helpmeet and closest friend. Two sons and a daughter survive with Mrs. Officer. Charles T. Officer is teller of the Officer & Pusey bank; Miss Julia E. Officer resides at home and William P. Officer recently disposed of his business in this city because of ill health. Other relatives in this city are two sisters and a brother---Mrs. W. H. M. Pusey, Mrs. Rebecca Blaine and Robert P. Officer.

Mr. Pusey's Estimate of Him.

 

W. H. M. Pusey who has been associated with Mr. Officer for half a century was asked for an estimate of his character and he replied as follows:

 

"Yes, I knew Thomas Officer from young manhood until his death. He was of Scotch-Irish lineage, a blue stocking of no uncertain color. When he came to Council Bluffs we did not have a school house nor a school law (which is now the pride of Iowa) and further, no Presbyterian church, the church of his fathers. What did he do? He imported a preacher and teacher from Kentucky and largely supported him and his family and organized a Presbyterian church of twelve members, thus setting the Presbyterian faith and doctrine on wheels until, in its evolution and revolutions, the church of his childhood and heart wields a potent influence in the loved city he had chosen as the place of his life work. He took his imported Kentucky school teacher and set him up in business by procuring for hi a large school by private subscriptions and made a Presbyterian elder of the school teacher. Never seeking preferment, yet his aptness made him prominent in our schools, municipal government and the Deaf and Dumb institute, which received all the benefits of his enlarged experience. No public enterprise which received his approval, ever failed also to receive his financial aid. Dwelling in darkness, he gave us the electric light system.

 

"As a pure upright christian man all of we poineers(sic) will concede to him the advanced station in christian manhood, crowning his lovely life and character with the highest and most deserved praise.

 

"As a banker he was loyal to his clientage and they were loyal to him, so through his long years of banker, he has maintained, his well earned reputation of success and popularity. The good man, full of honors and years, has gone and if the people read his history and acheivements(sic), they would simply reiterate the epitaph on the tomb of Christopher Wren,

 

"'If you would read my history, look around you.'"

As Seen By His Pastor.

 

Rev. W. B. Barnes, pastor of the First Presbyterian church, said that the place left vacant in the church by the death of Mr. Officer can never be filled, for in every item of the church work, the spiritual as well as the financial, he had a part. He was the most conspicuous man in the church and took his share in every feature either small or great and was a liberal supporter of all of its financial interests. Rev. Mr. Barnes referred to Mr. Officer's part in the organization of the church and to the fact that he had been elder for forty-four years.

 

Others in speaking of Mr. Officer have referred to his exactness, saying that he was very methodical and believed that if you want a thing done right, the surest way to secure it is to do it yourself. He was a sturdy, upright man, of strictest integrity and one given to the advancement of all good things that he saw about him in the world. No charitable work in the city ever suffered from lack of his support and no appeal made to him in behalf of any beneficent or religious movement was in vain. To all organized work of this character in the city he contributed a specific amount regularly. But about all of this work he was most unostentatious and whether sending out provisions for a needy family or contributing money to a worthy cause, he always sought to conceal the identity of the giver.

 

The funeral will be held on Friday afternoon at 2:30 at the residence and all friends are invited to attend. The service, in harmony with the desire that he recently expressed, will be very simply, with no eulogy. The burial will occur later and will be private. The family requests that no flowers be sent.

   

I'm a sucker for a bit of DIY...I enjoy the methodical process, so painting what will be our nursery is making my week.

PRESIDIO OF MONTEREY, Calif. -- It was a double Cinderella story for the Presidio of Monterey volleyball championship Jan. 30 and the 229th Military Intelligence Battalion. Fourth-seeded Company D took on the loser's bracket entry, second-seeded Company A, that was a player short for the championship. The Black Sheep methodically won in the required two matches to become champs over Co. D, 25-12, 19-25, 15-6 and 24-13, 10-25, 15-13.

 

Official Presidio of Monterey Web site

 

Official Presidio of Monterey Facebook

 

PHOTO by Steven L. Shepard, Presidio of Monterey Public Affairs.

For the Teleidoscope theme "String".

 

So I'm going to try and catch up what I've missed out on since January!! I don't know if I can do it but I'll try.

 

I never realised how hard it is to draw string until today! I thought a knot would just be a case of drawing a squiggle and hey presto...but no! That doesn't look good. So after a fair while drawing a knot methodically, I think it's turned out ok.

 

Loving this Teleidoscope theme btw.

 

The costume is an old Halloween one by the way, not my usual Saturday night clobber! Although it may turn a few heads!

WhoWasPlato.com

Construction is steadily moving forward on the 18,000 sq. ft. Possum Creek Skatepark in Gainesville, Florida.

 

Led by Spohn Ranch's COO, Mark Bradford, the crews in Gainesville are quickly turning what were once just some dreams scribbled on paper into one of Florida's premiere concrete skateparks.

 

Through a combination of advanced pre-cast concrete technology and methodical on-site concrete pours, the skatepark is nearing a flawless finish with less than 30 days on site.

 

Here Spohn Ranch COO, Mark Bradford executes a concrete pour for one of the parks poured-in-place features.

5391. If this photo is taken up large, two men can be seen standing at the fork of the gully. That is where the Sea Venom flown by pilot Sub Lt Brian Dutch and Senior Observer Lt Sandy Sandberg crashed on the night of June 15, 1960.

 

Dutch and Sanberg had ejected at several hundred feet, and the plane burst into flames as Dutch drifted down towards it. We continues with his account, pickng it up where the decision hgas been made that they must eject.:

 

"....Now at that stage the RN Sea Venoms had no ejection seat and the RAN Sea Venoms had been fitted with the Martin Baker Patent Ejector Seat MK 4A. As there had not been an ejection, there were several myths and rumours about the seat, particularly as the RAAF Sabre aircraft had an American seat and had had several fatal low level ejections.

 

Our seats were canted towards one another at about 4 degrees which meant that if both the pilot and observer ejected together the seats would collide above the aircraft, so the drill was that the observer should eject the heavy canopy and then immediately eject himself.

 

The limitation of the ejector seat, which was powered by 3 cartridges, was 200 knots of forward speed and 200 feet of height. I pulled up the nose of the aircraft to about a 60 degree climb and put on full power to try to clear the ground. I remember seeing the altitude indicator showing a steep climb, the altimeter was rising and the air speed indicator[ASI] falling rapidly!

 

The next 30 seconds or so seemed to take ages! In good drill fashion I said to Sandy “EJECT, EJECT, EJECT”…

 

No reaction. I looked at Sandy who had not responded. The intercom had obviously failed. My only option was to change my right hand from the control column and pull the canopy ejection myself toget the message across to Sandy. As the canopy exploded clear I remember seeing Sandy’s eyes like saucers as he reached for the canopy and ejected. With Sandy clear, I waited

until the ASI was falling through about 110 knots and ejected myself.

  

There was a surging acceleration into the darkness, I felt the seat curving backwards and then a jerk as the canopy of the parachute deployed and I was floating downwards. Almost immediately the aircraft exploded on the ground just below me and I realised that I was drifting towards the fire.

 

Once again I recalled my drills and remembered our lectures on controlling a parachute. I reached up and pulled the right hand lines…. “Christ, I’m drifting into the fire faster” I thought,

as I quickly changed to the left lines and landed just clear of the aircraft fire.

 

As I landed in a small tree with my feet in a stream, I could hear shouting and thought that it was Sandy shouting for help. I methodically undidmy harness release and ran to assist Sandy. I got about 4 feet before I was jerked on to my back. I had forgotten to undo my emergency oxygen tube! Flushing with embarrassment in the darkness, I undid the tube and again ran to assist Sandy. Bang!… I ran into a fence. When I finally got to Sandy he was OK and said that he had been shouting at me as he could see me drifting into the fire and was trying to warn me!

 

CONTINUED WITH NEXT ENTRY:

 

Photo: Sent by Michael Sandberg, ex-RANM FAA, with permission.

Los Angeles Firefighters responded to a traffic collision at the intersection of Saticoy Street and Shoup Avenue in West Hills, California on July 27, 2008. © Photo by Gavin Kaufman