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Will Native American, Hispanic Cultures Be Included in the Arizona Centennial?
Today's post is the third and final installment of my interview with the Executive Director of the Arizona Centennial 2012 Foundation, Karen Churchard. If you missed them, make sure to read part I and part II of the interview. In today's post, we find out how the Native American and Hispanic populations will be recognized and included in the Centennial, how we can all participate, and finally why the Centennial is coming at such a good time.
Blooming Rock: How are the tribal communities going to be included in the Centennial?
Karen Churchard: On Centennial Way, we're doing a tribute to the counties and the tribes. We're working with them to identify what the placard or marker is going to be. It could be a seal or some kind of marking where you could walk up to it and read about the tribe itself. (The text would be derived from) a series of questions you ask each tribe and county, so all the information, as you read it, would have the same look and feel. But there's the question of what if the tribes want to add more to it, would they be able to? That's all in discussion. They (the tribes) have been very receptive to that (the markers on Centennial Way).
For the Centennial Best Fest, the three events that we're holding in Prescott, Tucson, and Phoenix, we're coordinating with Tribal Tourism on building an Indian Village. We would work with them to have representation from all the tribes. (We're doing it) in Phoenix for sure, but they don't want to be taking on too much. The Prescott and Tucson (Indian) Villages might be smaller, more of the southern tribes in Tucson and the northern tribes in the Prescott. The goal in Phoenix is to have all 22 (tribes) represented.
On the actual 100th Statehood day we're planning to do the Sunrise Ceremony. We were talking about having the Sunrise Ceremony at the Capitol, when the sun rises, that honors the past and looks to the future of the next 100 years. They (Tribal Tourism) are excited to help us with that. We made the suggestion that we don't have to have the Sunrise Ceremony in just one place in Phoenix, why not have Sunrise Ceremonies at all the tribal areas if the tribes are willing to organize that. So there could be up to 22 Sunrise Ceremonies going on in our state at one time which is kind of cool.
Blooming Rock: Are there any efforts to showcase or include the Hispanic population in any of the events?
Karen Churchard: We're doing 3 Villages at Best Fest. One is Native American, one is Hispanic, and one is Western. We're trying to show the 3 major cultures that shaped Arizona. And we're also doing 6 Pavilions, which will be smaller, but the same kind of concept, where we want to talk about the future of Arizona or where we are now. There might be a Sports Pavilion, a Renewable Energy Pavilion, as well as Arts and Culture and that type of thing. You'll have a standard street festival where you have artists and craftspeople, music and entertainment, rides and all this stuff you'd think would be at a street festival, but we're adding these Villages and Pavilions and a main stage. We're hoping to entice national entertainers that have a tie to Arizona to come and perform at the different events.
Blooming Rock: Where is the Phoenix Best Fest going to be?
Karen Churchard: It will be Downtown. We haven't done the footprint yet. The other thing we've been talking about is doing a motorcycle ride, with Copper Chopper being a mascot, and we're giving that bike away through a drawing the weekend of the Best Fest in Phoenix. With that being the big moment of who wins the bike, we want to get motorcycle enthusiasts from inside and outside of Arizona to ride in and to celebrate our Centennial. So the bikes would be parked on Centennial Way. If we get the number of bike riders that we want, you could just walk down the street and look at motorcycles if that's what you want to do.
So that (Centennial Way) will be a secondary part of it, but we're thinking 7th Avenue to Central Avenue (for the Best Fest). It almost might be an L-shape because we want to involve the County Court Tower, the new one they're building. They want to do a series of tours so people can see their new facility. We want to incorporate the historic Courthouse and hopefully they'll have their (Justice) Museum done by 2012 which is the old jail. We want to incorporate Cityscape, so that'll definitely be in the footprint. The new Court Tower is on Madison I think, it's further south, and the historic Courthouse is on Washington and Central so (the footprint) could be an L-shape, we don't know yet for sure. But it'll definitely be in the Downtown area.
Blooming Rock: How can people participate and get involved in the Centennial?
Karen Churchard: What we've been saying all along is that our goal in the organization is to hopefully get all the communities, all the counties and all the tribes to participate in a way that's meaningful to them. It's interesting because a lot of people just keep saying to me, tell me what you want us to do. I don't know anything, for example, about architecture, or historic preservation. So what kind of project would the community who does love architecture or historic preservation want to do to showcase what they love and what they're passionate about in a way that's meaningful to them and could bring a better awareness to other people? For example, I didn't know we had these magnificent homes and buildings (in the state). Some people say we don't have architecture in Arizona. San Xavier Mission, for example, I've read is one of the most magnificent pieces of Spanish architecture in the country. I didn't know that until I got involved with the Centennial. It's a perfect example of how to use this moment in time (the Centennial) to celebrate our past, where we are today, and where might want architecture, for example, to go in the future.
My message is really that anybody can get involved. I know there are groups that are doing projects that have not been sanctioned with us. People ask me, do we have to be sanctioned? The answer is no you don't have to be, but how are we going to know about you if you aren't? If you tell us, we can promote it and push it back out there.
Blooming Rock: So if there's a group that wants to be sanctioned, what do they do?
Karen Churchard: They go online, arizona100.org and there's information on Legacy Projects even though that's not what we do. We'll give you information on how to contact the Historical Advisory Commission. If you want to do an event, same thing, you go online, you can actually fill out a form, and then it's a pretty simple process. The application is not really challenging but it does ask how you're going to fund your project. We want to make sure we're sanctioning something that's really going to happen. So if you do apply, you have to show that your project is viable. And if you do that, it's a pretty simple process to get approved.
Karen on why it's the perfect time for the Centennial: People have been talking about (the fact that) the Centennial couldn't have come at a worst time because of the economic factor. But I've been saying all along, I think it's a good time. It's time for Arizona to be prideful and (for Arizonans) to look at their state in a way they are proud of it. I didn't say that at this Council meeting, but at the end of the Council meeting, the Mayor and a couple of other Council members made comments and all of them said that the Centennial couldn't have come at a better time. Yesterday I had a meeting with about half of our board because we have a lot of fundraising to do in a two year period and our co-Chairman, Bud Jones, great man, retired Chief Justice of the court system was kind of reiterating the 'woe is us' (theme). We don't have any money, we're really behind, it's just going to be really hard to raise money and so on. At the end I said, everything you said is true, but I really think that in the next month, we're going to see the Centennial become a rallying point. I think it's really going to make people be stronger about who we are. It's going to come at the right time, money aside, it's not all about money.
Blooming Rock: Do you think the recent tragedy in Tucson is going to actually rally people to be more involved in the Centennial and more prideful of our state?
Karen Churchard: I think it's certainly an unfortunate event. It's tragic and sad. But I think that this is not going to define us. We're sorry that this happened but we're proud of our state, we're proud of the people here. So I think the Centennial is here at the right time. It's not because of the Centennial, but I think there's been unfortunate things that have been showcasing Arizona in a negative way in the political world. But now you have the Centennial and now we can talk to people about what's good about our state. That's one of the things we're trying to work on is trying to have a branding and an identity and speak to Arizonans about who we are. And so we're going to have a series of advertisements, we're doing a campaign that says that Arizona is dAZzling, we're using the AZ in words, like trailblAZer, stargAZer, amAZing. To that point we're going to try to show what is amazing about our state and our people by using some iconic images and really start getting people thinking about all that we have to be proud of.
Photo Credit: Photo of the San Xavier Mission in Tucson. Photo from Arizona Supreme.
Tags: 22 arizona tribes, 3 villages, 6 pavilions, Arizona Centennial, Arizona Centennial 2012 Foundation, arizona counties, arizona hispanic population, arizona is a stargazer, arizona is a trailblazer, arizona is amazing, arizona is dazzling, arizona supreme, arizona tribal communities, arizona tribal tourism, arizona100.org, arts and culture pavilion, best fest, bud jones, centennial way, Copper Chopper, hispanic village, historical advisory commission, indian village, justice museum, Karen Churchard, learning from European Cities, Legacy Projects, maricopa county court tower, maricopa historic courthouse, motorcycles, native american village, phoenix, phoenix best fest, Prescott, renewable energy pavilion, san xavier mission, sports pavilion, street festival, sunrise ceremonies, tragedy in tucson, Tucson, western village
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Daniel Wohlslagel says:
I think that one of the most tangible and compelling influences of Native peoples of the valley we live in is technology. At first mention that seems counterintuitive, but I have been fascinated to learn how the ancient Hohokam people engineered a sophisticated irrigation canal system and cultivated thousands of acres of land here- at least a millennium before our modern industrialized society.
I currently live in a neighborhood that overlooks The Park of the Canals, in West Mesa. This park is a preserve for one of the original (and massive) Hohakam canal paths. What's fascinating to me is that many of these original Hohokam canals were reinvigorated and used by the original white settlers here, and eventually served as the basis for the design of Phoenix's modern irrigation canal system.
Before moving here, I envisioned that Phoenix came about as dusty ranches and homesteads, but have come to learn that much of rural Phoenix and it's outlying cities grew up agricultural. This is a fact brought about strictly by the concept of canal irrigation.
I still chuckle when people come from back east to visit for the first time, and see a massive, sprawling city.. They ask- "what are all these people doing- living in the middle of the desert!?" I then preceed to pontificate to them about the CAP and that we have three growing seasons here per year and about how the rivers swell every year from runoff from the mountains in Arizona and New Mexico….
But living in the Salt River valley is a very old idea. Our city was a location of one of the greatest centers of prehistoric civilization in North America. We didn't come up with the concept- it was here when we got here.
I'm not sure how meaningful this is to current day Native tribes, but it seems very influential and pretty amazing to me.
Taz Loomans says:
It IS amazing Dan and we would do well to honor our ancient heritage in this state and especially in our desert city, Greater Phoenix. I love how you equate the native peoples with technology, it is incongruous at first, but you're right, they did put in place some fundamental technologies that we still benefit from today.
Arizona's statehood is 99 today, next year is The Centennial | Unobstructed Views says:
[…] Will Native Americans, Hispanic Cultures be included in The Centennial? […]
February 14, 2011: Arizona's statehood is 99 yesterday; next year is The Centennial | Unobstructed Views says:


The Porsche 928 was initially envisioned as a replacement for the 911 which was regarded by some as difficult to handle and nearing the end of its potential. it was also thought to appeal to the US Market which Porsche so desperately wanted to break into. Designed to be more luxurious and comfortable than the 911 the 928 was to combine the features of a GT and a sports car, A concept that far ahead of its time. The product of this design brief was entirely revolutionary when it first appeared at the 1977 Geneva motor show: Sleeker, faster and more technologically advanced than any comparable automobile at the time. It utilized then exotic materials and a DOHC V8 that made it more powerful than even most supercars of the era. It was also a lot more expensive than the more traditional 911, and this is often credited as the achilles heel that meant the 911 survives still today.
This 928 S4 is the ultimate version of an 80's 928. equipped with a 5.0L 32 valve DOHC V8 producing 320 HP and a 4 speed automatic, this car was one of the fastest in the world when it was introduced, and still feels fast today with a 6.2 0-100kph time. more relaxing to drive then a similar year 911, and certainly better equipped, the 928 is gaining traction in porsche enthusiast circles.
This car was delivered new in the Netherlands to Porsche importer Pon, A well known name in porsche circles. It is sold with all its original paperwork and service history, including a certificate of authenticity from Porsche.


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mylightspirit
writing&blogging
Life through a Mirror
March 11, 2017 Nour Al Amine Leave a comment
Staring in the mirror, a reflection of a suit and tie, an elegant dress, or jeans and shirt with faded faces barely shown. Faded, dead as if life had run away from it.
Staring into the eyes, the dull face, the stiffened face with no features. The curves drawn by the smile around the lips haven't been drawn for a while now.
Faces as cold as death with shiny eyes that hide a story. A story that has been buried deep down. Another day in a different place with the same dull faces and only the eyes can assure the existence of this creature. Reflection of the outfit of the day in the mirror; nothing else matter.
Light reflected in the eyes, which sparkle curiously in the mirror. Odd images covered with dust present itself in the mirror. The images of the hidden story; staring back in it the person's face, taking him back in time to the places, faces, and forgotten moments.
Memories reflected in the mirror. Images jumping one after the other in the mirror. Images of life. Faces that no longer exist in one's life. Left behind places and moments. Reality hits you in the face.
How weird time had passed? When did one become only a reflection in the mirror of an outfit.
One would think "Am I hallucinating?" "What's up with me today?". Don't fearfully smash the mirror and walk away. Look into the mirror deep into your eyes. Let that feeling of nostalgia overwhelms you for a moment. Choose to live rather than being just a reflection. Never be afraid of the mirror.
Never be afraid of your own reflection. Face your fears. Admit your mistakes. Be you and not just a reflection.
Life through a Mirror by: Nour Al-amine / Photo by: Shadi A. Karam
lifemirrorreflection
Decorating the Sorrow
December 28, 2016 Nour Al Amine Leave a comment
Lights & colors, joy & love, decorations sparkling from outside to cover the darkness, the sorrow, the pain, the suffer of forced pale smiles covered with colors. Colors which are fading with every striking light and every forward step.
The way it all comes to be perceived, to be coming into something; something realistic, near the common sense of pure happiness. It fades with every step toward the exotic joy and lights, as if it is meant to lose something of its originality in the process. As if the power of the glow, the sense of it all is meant to be lost, meant to be colorless, lifeless, and pale.
As if carrying all the colors with you is impossible, as if it is the price you pay, the price to be able to move forward, to be where you are and who you are, and how you come to be.
As if being black and white is what it takes to get to the place you aim, to be at.
You stand long, colorless, hallow from inside, empty, deadly walking, heavily breathing, it somehow hurts when you smile as a hard-tough exercise, an effortful job, something you hardly do, as if it is not that easy and simple, as if the burdens of the universe are thrown on your shoulders.
Dusty issues accumulating from within until you can no longer breathe, until you can only feel the pain arousing in your chest, oxygen escaping from every cell inside of you, and your eyes can barely open.
You end-up as a colorless image, messily colored, as if a child had drawn and colored you messily, a massive huge mess, a colorless useless image messily colored. Badly colored and hideously decorated to hide the true darkness from within between somehow the true joy out there.
colorsjoylifesorrow
Overwhelming
November 15, 2016 Nour Al Amine Leave a comment
Strange looking faces, voices that makes no sense to you, cold, abounded, leftovers of what once was great, a left behind place for the silence of the wind and the reflections of the shadows.
Emptiness that kills the worries, brings calamity for a busy mind, awakens a dormant soul, a peace driven to the body out of the place's beauty.
A sight ahead into the wild, above the mountains,deep in the forest, a forgotten soul is left to the struggling of the cold and the echoes of the wild.
A simple smile, between the coldest of the white, is enough to warm up the spirit within while the body is forgotten to the struggle of the cold.
Who cares for the cold, when the eyes are satisfied, the silence overwhelms you with peace, and the lips are smiling warmly.
So-called Lucky
September 11, 2016 Nour Al Amine 1 Comment
As teens living outside the city, Beirut, represented for us the chance of change, and for some it was the freedom, and the land of dreams come true. Our short visits were to escape the routine life and enjoy the smallest things as a featured movie premiere, shopping, and the small adventures. The people of the city seemed to be the happiest on earth for us. By the time we had to attend university, those who moved to Beirut were called the lucky ones. They were So-called Lucky, for having the chance of moving to the city with the baggage of dreams and ambitions, which will soon become real.
The reality though hits you in the face, the dream city is in fact the dream destroyer, the people of the city are afraid to get out and face the sun. Heads down they move, their daily habits are robotic wise, and their nightlife isn't but a way to hide their misery, and breakdowns. This city embraces the little of its people and ignores the rest.
Looking back at younger versions of you, the ones of big dreams, the ones with highly ambitions, and all you see is a bunch of dreams leftovers. The lucky ones are no longer here they left to a city where they can feel alive again. The ones here are living a life of an adventure, surprises are an every day event, working towards a dream, running and running until it becomes part of them. Where happy news are surprising, and success will come after you're too exhausted to enjoy it; where the taste of it is no longer meaningful.
Beirut bewitches you into loving it, loving every part of this clumsy stupid city, the city of contradictions, the city of magic, ugliness, and beauty. It reflects on you it's useless past and unconcealed problems, it crushes you and brings you to life everyday with every step.
The old version of you, the dreamful, ambitious person, the one that wanted to change everything , to step over any obstacle, and go beyond the negativity of the daily life, is now just an image and a reflection of this city. You are a reflection of its old buildings, which are fighting everyday to keep on breathing, a reflection of its dark pathways and scary alleys. Only on good days you feel the belonging to the beauty of this capital city.
You now are one of this city's faces, one of the people moving around with a smile, and burying in the truth of this clumsy, stupid, crazy, enchanted city. This city is clumsy indeed; nothing in it is but a big mess and bunch of things and nothing.
Beirutcitydreamslucky
Uncategorized, writing&blogging
Places & Memories
June 26, 2016 Nour Al Amine Leave a comment
It is all about the memories, what stays behind; after an adventure, an encounter, and an experience; are the memories. Memories last forever they say, it is engraved in your backup brain and in the deepest of your dusty feelings.
Memories are sweet and bitter, life and death; it is the beauty and the ugliness of wishing to forget as wishing to remember. Places though are cold, lifeless, bunch of stones and wide empty fields, still places are the stage of our memories. As a certain place triggers a memory that was lost and dusted.
Places provide a reason for the hibernating memories, to get in front, to take the lead, and present itself. Meaningless places to one are a huge pain to another, the way places enfold secrets and events. There is a story and a memory behind everything, how things got organized the way they are, how a bunch of pictures got in place, even when all is gone you still see the trace of it on the walls and behind the closed doors.
The whole atmosphere of the places evokes back the images, the feelings, and the whole bunch of memories. Sometimes it goes beyond the place and to the actual atmosphere, the common atmosphere places share. When a shared atmosphere affects us, it all comes back at once, rebirth from the past, overtakes the moment, and transfers us back to the time and place of the actual event.
History is written in some places, and if you listen to the voices hidden within the walls, if you look deeply behind the hung pictures, you will be overwhelmed by the places and gone way back in time and you're there observing as history is being written.
Our elders share a story in these places, we are creating a story here, and the ones that will come after us will create something new. We all keep secret hidden memories in places which are only available to the ones who listen!
lifememoriesplaces
Beirut after Midnight
May 28, 2016 Nour Al Amine Leave a comment
Beirut is the capital city of Lebanon, the Middle Eastern country. Beirut during the day is a busy crowded city; from the early hours of the morning the streets fill up with people, rushing to schools, offices and wherever they might be going. Throughout the day it is always hard to get to an appointment on time; unless you leave before at least an hour from the scheduled time. Beirut after midnight though is a whole different world with all its contradictions and magic in some way.
The clock announces midnight, through the windows you can see lights turning off; one after the other, people are hasting to bed after a long working day. Few lights are flashing out from a student's room that is staying up late to study; some are just up finishing a movie on T.V, or just laying in bed finishing a book. Out it is all quiet, the neighborhood's streets are empty except for flashing road lights and few homeless kittens and dogs out there.
In the parallel street laughter have risen above the silence of the night, the voices direct you into a small humble coffee shop. There a bunch of jobless guys gather every night, playing cards, smoking "Hookah", laughing over a desperate wasted life. Those were not lucky enough to find jobs and opportunities they aspire. For a second, they are distracted from their game to salute their neighbor, the taxi driver, who works all night long till the early hours of the morning, as many others in this city.
He drives away from the suburbs neighborhoods' of Beirut with its simple life; its citizens whom are struggling to live a regular life and fulfill their dreams. He drives along the streets reaching Cola intersection. A point where during the day is crowded with people, taxis, and buses; it is the starting point towards almost all the different regions in Lebanon. Now it is almost quiet except for few cars, there the first passenger for tonight hops in. The taxi drives away reaching the cornice.
The passenger gets out meeting his friends. There upon the sound of the striking waves under the moonlight, on the scattered benches all along the sidewalk sat youth having late coffee. Spilling all their secrets and pain to the striking waves that would take it away to the deep of the ocean, others just wrapping up the day's events and planning for a better tomorrow. The deep conversations and flying dreams are cutoff by a small boy, with his innocent features, and dreamy sad eyes looking up at them, "Flower" he says as he lifts a flower in their direction, " No, go away" they dismiss him and carry on with their conversation. Rarely any of the guys buy flowers; he walks away in disappointment when a man from across the street waves at him to come. He is an older man selling flowers as well at the traffic light, the small kid is by his side now, "the business is slow tonight, go try another street and we'll meet here later" , the older man says as the kid walks away in the opposite direction.
The little kid carries his flowers as he walks through the dark passages all the way reaching Hamra Street. The stores on both sides of the street are already closed, the little kid walks under the sparkling street lights, stopping every now and then to offer his flowers to the passengers in the passing cars. He follows the sound of music coming from the nearest pub, he reaches the front door. The little boy stands there in front of the entrance, near the smokers, gazing at people inside drinking, dancing, laughing joyfully and singing along with the songs, their faces filling with happiness and their eyes sparkling with pleasure. He stands their imaging his future as one of those people drinking and singing freely and happily, he can hear his stomach roars from huger as he gazes at the food on the table inside. "Give me all the flowers" a voice comes from a couple standing just beside him, he moves his gaze from the food to their faces smiling at him as they look tenderly at his pale face, he hands them the flowers as they give him the money when suddenly his stomach roars again loudly, "Are you hungry?" they ask as he raises his head and nods quietly; "Come with us, we'll get you something to eat".
The three of them walk away from the music into the empty streets being interrupted by music along the way coming from different scattered pubs in Hamra. In a parallel street, they reach one of the 24/24 restaurants "Barbar", the little boy stood aside as they adhered to order sandwiches. He stood there trying to guess the names of food placed behind the glass in front of him. "The delivery order is done" the employee shouts from behind as immediately a young man steps and grabs the bags from him. He takes it and walks toward his motorcycle, places them carefully in the bag behind him and takes off.
He drives his motorcycle all the way to the city's downtown exactly to Beirut Souks. He hands the delivery to a security guard and takes off. The security guard, a young man in his twenties holds the bags and sits on one of the stairs, he takes his sandwich and coke out of the bag, he eats silently as he stares around at the fancy buildings surrounding him, and he thinks about all the branded stores in this place that he cannot afford, he cannot even buy a silly sock from it. He finishes his food and searches his pockets till he finds a piece of paper, he holds it up, and moves on walking around the alleys of the Souks. The paper has few notes for his exam later today; he reads it while he walks around stopping every few minutes to talk to other guards.
Morning lights start to appear the security guard sleepily walks down the street, over there at the corner of the street stands a young beautiful girl. She is in her twenties as well; she works as a receptionist in one of the hotels around. They attend the same university, she looks glad to see him. He stands there by her side smiling at her when another young man interrupts them. He is the bartender in a pub around, just finished his shift as well; he is the guard's friend and neighbor.
The fellows walk together to catch the bus, while the late pub and nightclubs attendees pass by them in their cars. The attendees are heading to have an early breakfast before going home to sleep the whole day before the next party. As these three barely get time to rest before getting to their universities while others are just waking up to start a new fresh working day.
The bus arrives and they get in and slide beside a young woman. She smiles at their sight, she is a nurse they met in the bus a while ago, and they ran into her whenever she is on night-shift. "Good morning" she says to them in an attempt to sound normal, but she looks very tired, must have been a really rough night."What's wrong?"They ask and she answers as pain appears in her eyes: "I just hate night shifts, awful things happen!" she shocks "last night a very sweet old man passed away, he was so nice and none of his family was by his side the moment he died" ,she stops looks at them, she wipes an escaping tear going down her cheek, " I'm sorry, I ruined your morning , but he has been in the hospital for months now, I guess I just got used to have him around". "It's okay, you don't have to apologize", said the girl.
For the rest of the ride, they sat silently; they were too tired to talk. First, the nurse got out, and then the girl, as the guard gawked at her all the way until she was out of sight. "Just tell her you love her already!" snaps the bartender, he raise his eyebrows at him "No, too soon".
"What are you waiting for, Till she falls for someone else?"The boy said as the two of them step at the corner street down their neighborhood.
"Till I have something to offer for her" says walking ahead of his friend.
"You have your love to offer!" he snaps back.
"Not enough, end of story" the guard says as his face turns serious now.
A car passes by them slows a bit and a young man strikes his head out the window "Bye Guys, I will miss you, take care okay". They look up at him shouting back at him, that's their neighbor, he is on his way to the airport, he is travelling away to chase after his dreams and ambitions. The driver shouts at him to get his head in as the car moves further from the boys.
The ambitious boy gets back straight in his seat and rolls the window up. They- the boy and his parents- drive towards the airport; the place of the city that never sleeps. All around the day and night, people moving around crying for the departure of a person, and smiling at the arrival of the other accompanied with some tears of joy. Airplanes going forth and back, teams changing but the lights are never off. The car drives into the parking lot, the boy looks around and out of the sudden he is overwhelmed by all this.
He steps out of the car with his parents by his side. They step towards the entrance as he drags his bag by his side this is it, this is goodbye. As they walk out the parking lot he notices people gathering around to place the luggage in the car, laughing with tears of joy in their eyes. While his mom grabs into his arm with teary eyes that express all her pain for letting him go away.
It is time for goodbye for real now; he waves for his parents from behind the glass, and disappears behind the doors. Within minutes, he boards in; he finds his seat besides the window. He thinks to himself this should be the happiest day of my life, it is everything I have ever wanted, I am flying away, I am leaving this city, but actually he is unease. The only thing he could think of is Beirut, the beautiful Beirut, the nights he spent in it with his friends from the drinks they had in a cozy pub, the crazy nights they spent dancing till the morning, the nights they spent on the cornice aspiring and dreaming, dreaming of this moment in specific, the moment they'd leave, but now it is all mixed up and he can't comprehend it.
It's around 8:30 a.m. when the plane takes off, flying above the city as it fully recovered from the darkness of the night. The streets are crowded with hurrying people, workers and students. It is Beirut this magical city that enchants you into loving it in everything in it. It is the city of extreme contradictions, Beirut with its beauty and ugliness. It makes you laugh and cry at the same time. You can't run away from its love, even the ugliness and brutality of it you love. It takes away your dreams and gives you much space of an imagination to escape from it and aspire freely away from its interference.
Life in Beirut is an everyday adventure, it is an everyday story, it is the crushing of a dream by day and the reborn of another after midnight under the moon light and twinkling stars of Beirut. It is the reborn of a dream upon the sound of the waves, upon the clinking of the cups, under the sparkling of the traffic light, and over the ticking clock announcing the end of a shift.
This is Beirut and you can't but love it as it is….
Beirutdreamslebanonlifepeoplestory
Puzzle of Life
It doesn't matter whether you're living in a little tiny home or a big wide one since by the end of the day we all feel the same. We all nurture the same feeling of dissatisfaction and fear; fear of this mysterious life with its unknown future.
As human beings, we are never satisfied. When one has the money, he wishes for the family, and when he finally has the family, he wishes to go back to his solo life. We are all rotating in one big circle "life" always wishing for the change and for more and more.
At some point, we reach an uncontrollable feeling of love and happiness that drags with it a strong pitch of pain and misery. We experience a diverse mix of unknown feelings that we are incapable to understand. Until the time we lose someone/ something that the agony arouses. We feel emptiness that once was filled while we lacked the ability to understand its value. It is the feeling of loss! It is a feeling derived from our own wishes; a wish to exclude someone or something from our life. Only after its loss, one becomes aware of its value, understands the importance of it and the huge empty space it left behind, and how much harder life would be after its loss.
This strong agony drags us into a huge storm of thoughts. We struggle upon thinking of this mysterious life and its secrets, about the future, about tomorrow, and what would happen next. It's not the end, the list of wishes continues with us along the journey of Life. Our mysterious journey was once filled with mixed feelings that now unveil itself as dissatisfaction, fear, and misery.
We lose, gain, fall and stand up again, but we keep on going while fear is growing more and more inside us; the fear of tomorrow. Until one day, when we decide to stand up, face everything around us and understand every single particle in life. When we finally wander around us to see that it isn't our fault that we lost something, it's just life's role, it's our faith, and it's our journey in life. It's the role that in every time it gives us something, it takes something in return.
We understand, think and almost satisfied, but there is one more thing missing. We keep on living till our life's puzzle is complete, then everything seems to be okay and it's time to release our trapped souls to find its way back to the origin.
lifepuzzle
The Laborer
May 1, 2016 Nour Al Amine Leave a comment
"Parsley, coriander; parsley, coriander….; was it one or two she said?" I search ahead as I catch a sight of his figure at the far distance working in the fields. Now I just have to figure out where to stroll without stepping on any of the fields' goods from mint, green onions, parsley, coriander, and all kinds of fresh vegetables. As I approach he looks up from where he stands; his shoes are dug in the mud, his old pants and bottom down shirt are stained with mud, his wool hat is covering his head, and upon his wrinkly face appears a shadow of a corner smile. Upon his appearance I get so lost in how he is able to manage all those organized fields and how can he know where each kind is planted?! By the time I'm standing next to him in the middle of the field I would totally forget what I was coming to get "mm, was it parsley? Coriander? Lettuce and what else? Mmmm" .In his attempt to help me remember what is it I'm missing; he starts asking me what we are having for lunch; maybe he could guess what the last ingredient is.
I was just a little girl around six years old when my mom would send me out to our neighbor's place "Abou Wafic" to buy some vegetables. The journey would take two minutes through a shortcut road; the first part of the journey consists of reciting over and over again the ingredients you were asked for, then figuring out in which field he is working today, and finally walk after him from one field to another to get it all.
Our neighbor "Abou Wafic" is a local farmer from my hometown village, he works in fields all day long, planting all kinds of organic vegetables with the aid of his wife "Em Wafic". Whenever you reach his place during the day, you would catch a sight of his working in the field. On the days when he's out of sight, his wife would step out of the kitchen to help you with what you want. As on Sundays the whole image changes, both of them would be sitting in the shade, surrounded with all kinds of fresh organic vegetables as they prepare bundles of each for Monday's public bazaar in the area.
The journey to "Abou Wafic" was almost an adventure that always ends with me forgetting one of vegetables on the list, and always getting a special gift which is usually a small lettuce, cucumber, tomato, and once the biggest radish of the season!
This little adventure wasn't exclusive for me, I was the forth in the raw to have it, as my two elder brothers and my sister share this peculiar experience. My two brothers and although with a ten years difference, both share the fact that they used to be scared of him at some point for cutting their footballs when it comes across his field; which later they come to understand that he is only protecting his fields from their evil childishness. As for my sister she loved visiting them and she always remembers Em Wafic image as she prepares goods and viands. As for me I was never scared of him, I loved that serious hard-working farmer who has a special place in my childhood memories.
I haven't seen him for years though, but I do always remember him being back at my hometown village working in the fields as he always does. And whenever I open a package of chamomile, I'm instantly transferred back to be the six years old redhead standing in the light outside an iron door as he or his wife steps in the mysterious dark room to fetch some fresh organic chamomile while I wait outside with the escaping odor of chamomile.
Sometimes you only need one couple to remind you of the real hard work, to show you how hard life could be, and the true meaning of celebrating Labor's day.
farmerlaborlaborerlifework
April 20, 2016 Nour Al Amine Leave a comment
At the subway; wandering around, chasing the leaving train with past memories and expecting a new train to come from the future. A subway; full of life, of people and moving trains in both ways coming and leaving and there you are struggling; as an overwhelming feeling wins over you. You're dimming from inside as a melting candle. Darkness is getting larger as you strike, revolt and resist against it.
We are just sitting there; remembering what the leaving train took with, what was written on the windows with dust, What secrets were hidden under the seats, ages, moments, sweet &bitter memories, good &ugly faces, joy& sadness and the passengers that got into the train and left once and forever.
The tunnel is getting darker, gloomy, and scary as the darkness arouse within as well. As we struggle upon the darkness, a new train lights its way through the dark tunnel over there, carrying a new life, a new start and an ending for the past story. Again hundreds of questions are asked; where will we be? What events are going to happen? Who will be there? Guessing and drawing images as if we can control the time with its frequent changes.
At that busy subway we are lost between the leaving and coming trains. It is easy to be blown by the force of the leaving train, and left lifeless, meaningless and quiet as the dark. Dark is easy to settle in with considering all the fear, misery, troubles, and weakness you can hide there. You're invisible. You and the dark are one. While it is hard to keep up with the future train, there is too much light and with the light; comes pain, struggle, responsibility and courage; you can't hide. In the light it is all clear, you have to fight, you have to rebel and you have to face. In the light you have to suffer in order to survive.
Lost between the tracks of the dark past, and the future light, and forgetting the present! Forgetting that the leaving train was once the present and to reach the future train we have to live in the present one. Rather than looking right and left; just look in front of you on the present train.
Encourage the light within you, be the light, rage against the dimness, and get busy living in the present train; start creating events, meet people, hide secrets under the seats and draw fresh images on the glass windows. Don't give up to the darkness; the darkness of the world is enough. Search for the light from within; nourish the dimming candle or reborn from the ashes. With every struggle appear a new joy; and a new beginning. Take the lead and drive your own train to the future.
Farewell the leaving train and get aboard the present train to reach the future. The future train will never come to you if you sit in the darkness waiting for it!
darknesslifelighttrackstrains
When a Mexican Series Becomes Real
April 6, 2016 Nour Al Amine Leave a comment
Achieving your ambitions, dreams, and having a suitable life in a country like Lebanon is not an easy thing. You find yourself struggling to overcome the social, economical, and political barriers, all of which integrated in a manner that you stuck in the middle and eventually find yourself escaping to a total different country. Immigration is then the only solution to an ambitious independent person in a search for a suitable fulfilled life.
The immigration phenomenon from Lebanon towards the massive countries of the world is not a new thing. It has always been there as ugly as the truth might be that this country fails in evolving and providing the minimal needs for a suitable life. In the 20th century a large number of youth got in ships and left towards Mexico, El –Salvador, America, Brazil, Australia, and other countries in chase for a better life.
In approximately 1922 a young man, "Hassan Fayad Ismael", accompanied by his brother "Ahmad", got in one of the ships leaving behind a wife and three little girls "Fahima, Kamillah, and Mariam". He left like many others in chase of the unknown.
The three girls never knew their father, they were very young when he left and he was never able to come back. Time passed and each of the girls grew up and got married and had her own family, by then they knew little about their father through letters brought by a friend of his.
Fahima Ismael always spoke about her father mentioning how he left them when they were very young and how her mom suffered in raising them up. Despite everything she hung a picture of her father, which he had sent with the one of the letters, accompanied with his second wife and fourteen kids in her house. In her turn she had nine kids (4 girls and 5 boys) and their elder is Ibrahim Noureddine.
Ibrahim Noureddine happens to be my grandpa from my mother's side, and the story of his grandpa whom left to Mexico long ago in the past century, is one that you never get bored with. We were raised with this story and mystery of our great grandpa whom left to Mexico and never came back despite the letters that the family received up until his friend who used to bring it died. Each time our grandpa retell the story, saying that he has fourteen Aunt and Uncle in Mexico, we wondered how they looked like. It became to an extent that whenever a Mexican Series was aired on Lebanese channels we would joke that one of the actors might be our relative.
It was always a mysterious story, somehow a missing root in the great family's tree. We grew up and scattered around this world and my grandpa still dreams of getting to know his extended family. Time passed and on new year's vacation back in 2008, and while my elder brother "Ahmad" was visiting Lebanon from USA, with his family, the story was brought up again and this time my grandpa brought up some papers that showed how the great grandpa's name was written in Spanish; it showed that the family name was changed from Ismael to Fallad (Fayad in Spanish) , and there the promise was made by Ahmad and his wife Erica that they are going to find the rest of the family.
When in Dallas, TX, Ahmad and Erica started their online search for the extended family members. They came across a name and an address within the same area where they lived, they called the number stated online. Well here luck strikes because they were able to get another number which happens to be to one of the Uncle's kids, Uncle Miguel, Miguel was actually visiting his son that day and so Ahmad and his family paid them a visit that night and there the first encounter with the extended family was made.
A few was revealed about the great grandpa's mysterious story, other than the fact that a connection was established again. Ahmad kept on communicating with the cousins, well actually my grandpa's cousins, but not with the other members whom happen to be in Mexico due to language barriers; they only speak Spanish.
By March 2016, Ahmad decided to visit Mexico, with his family, there the Fallad family was more than happy to finally meet one of their Lebanese relatives. There during two days visit the mystery of our great grandpa was revealed and my grandpa's dream was somehow becoming real.
The mystery unfolds and here is what Ahmad found out from the family in Mexico. It turns out our great grandpa was 23 years old when he arrived to Mexico. The first stop though for the ship was in another country which might be El Salvador, he didn't like the country and he went right away to the ship. Then he landed in Mexico in Veracruz, a port city in Mexico, where he stayed for a little while before moving to Torreon; where there is a large Lebanese community.
When he first arrived he didn't know a word of Spanish, according to his daughter Fatimah and he had suffered a lot. He didn't even know how to ask for a glass of water. Back in Lebanon he owned a lot of lands in his hometown but in Mexico he had to start from null, at first he sold gum on the street to make a living. After that When he moved to Torreon, he learned from other Lebanese about business and became a trader.
A while later he wanted to move somewhere else where he could start his own business away from the competition. Accompanied with his brother Ahmad, who is known as now as Manuel, they took the train, got off in Nuevo Ideal. Nuevo Ideal the current village where most of his properties are and the one Ahmad visited with his family in search for the missing story.
There he started as a textile merchant selling door to door. That is how he met his second wife who lived on a ranch. Then he opened a store for all kinds of miscellaneous stuff he named it: "Manola Miscellaneous" and he opened a hotel as well.
His store and house where in one large building that consisted of three parts; his house, a large store in the middle, and then his brother's house. That house is where he lived with his family until the day he died.
The store was opened before he got married, after getting married and being in business for a little while, he built a fortune and bought a very large piece of land with his brother where he started a ranch; the farm had cows, sheep, goats, chicken, and pigs and he planted Apple trees, fig trees, and all other kinds of crops.
He built a house on the ranch/farm and started splitting his time between the ranch and the original house with his eastern mentality girls were not allowed to sleep at the ranch. He preferred life on the ranch and spent most of his time there and every night at 11 pm in Mexico timing the radio in his room would be turned on Arabic news as he listened to the morning newscast according to Lebanon's timing.
In the municipal office in the city, he is listed as the first outsider to the village to come as a merchant. He was very successful, build a fortune in the town, had a lovely family 14 kids from his wife, plus 3 others from another woman in a nearby town. He was known for his generosity as he donated land to the city where they build a large space that is the center of the village besides a land to build a church. He was loving, caring, and stood up for the poor although he was very strict with his family as he used to pick up his grandchildren from the school and take them straight home. He didn't eat out or allow his kids to eat out. His father was poisoned (from what they've heard) so he didn't trust to eat anywhere. He taught his wife how to make Lebanese food from Kibbeh, Malfouf, Mjadarra and other dishes. He was a very hard worker, owned many lands that he marked with Palm trees.
Despite everything, despite all his success he never felt that he could fit in. His Spanish was choppy and he couldn't communicate very clearly. He was very private and didn't talk a lot.
He kept his Arabian roots by keeping a drawing of a mosque or something like it in his house. A large one from what the family remembers which could be Mecca or al Akssa, and he kept his own Quran. He told his family but being originally Lebanese and most of his kids hold Arabic names which extended to their kids as well.
His family is not sure why he never came back since he was very private, but they said that his last memory of Lebanon is that of his mom standing at the port praying with her hands up when he sailed off; He talked about her a lot!
In 1974, he renewed his Lebanese passport and was going to come back but the Lebanese Civil War took off and he wasn't able to. After that he got sick; suffered from problems with his throat and esophagus for many years, had multiple surgeries, and at some point the food would go down the wrong pipe. His lungs filled with water from all the issues which caused his death
and when he was on his deathbed he told them that he could see his mother coming to get him.
He died on 18 Feb 1978, with a total of 20 kids (9 boys and 11 girls). He couldn't be united again with his family in Lebanon; ironically generations had passed until the family was reconnected again due to his grandchild's grandchild effort and the mystery was solved for both parts of the family in Mexico and Lebanon. He lived a stranger and died a stranger in a strange country, like many others who left and were never able to come back.
This isn't a story of one man; it's a story of a nation, a story of separated families, and a common story in every Lebanese house in search for an identity and in chase of a dream….
familyimmigrationlebanonlifemanmexiconationstorystranger
Nour Al Amine
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the connecticut society of the
Founded April 2, 1889, our purpose is to keep alive the memory of
men and women who fought or gave service for Independence in the American Revolutionary War.
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KING GEORGE'S HEAD
Before July 9, 1776 an equestrian statue of King George II stood menacingly on Bowling Green in New York City. On that date Patriots toppled the structure and cut it into pieces, many of which were melted down and cast into bullets for firing against British soldiers. As told in this enlightening story, all known original pieces have surfaced in a variety of locations – and the search for others continues.
This old illustration depicts Patriots tearing down the statue of King George III that was standing on Bowling Green in New York City. This took place on July 9, 1776.
In 1766, New York City decided to erect statues of William Pitt and King George III. Both statues were commissioned toJoseph Wilton (1722-1803), a prominent sculptor in London. The King George statue was cast in lead and gilded, shipped to America, and erected at Bowling Green, near the tip of Manhattan on Aug. 21, 1770. This was the birth date of the king's late father, Prince Frederick. The statue was massive estimated at 4,000 pounds. The king was depicted on horseback, in Roman garb, after the style of the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius in Rome.
The statue quickly became unpopular with the public, and in 1773 an anti-graffiti, anti-desecration law was enacted to discourage vandalism.
After the early battles of the Revolution, the Americans began to covet the 4,000 pounds of lead towering above them. On the night of July 9, 1776 – when the Declaration of Independence was received and read in New York City – the statue met its demise. In a burst of patriotic fervor, a number of soldiers, sailors and citizens decided to act. They threw ropes around it, succeeded in pulling it down, and cut it into pieces of manageable size.
Capt. Oliver Brown of Wellsburg, West Virginia, in a statement made in 1845 said that he was in command of the soldiers and sailors at the destruction of the statue. There were 40 of them. On the first attempt the ropes broke, but on the second they were successful.
Washington Expresses Disapproval
A group called the Sons of Liberty also claimed responsibility for the act. They were led either by Col. Peter Cortenjus or by Isaac Sears, both of whom took credit. George Washington, in his orderly book on July 10th expressed his disapproval of this sort of mob action and his hope that in the future the military would leave this kind of work "to the proper authorities. "
They kept the head of the king aside, intending to impale it upon a stake, but by the next morning it had been stolen by Tories, who smuggled it to England. It showed up there, a year later, in the home of Lord and Lady Townshend (of the hated Townshend Acts) and was seen there by Thomas Hutchinson, who noted it in his diary. It has not been seen since.
Making Bullets Commences
The balance of the statue was shipped to Norwalk, Connecticut from whence it would be carted to Litchfield, the home of Gen. Oliver Wolcott.
The statue reached the dock in Norwalk and was loaded onto oxcarts in the charge of Henry Chichester of Wilton. When they reached Wilton, they stopped overnight at the Clapp Raymond Tavern (now owned by the Wilton Historical Society) and presumably continued northward the next day.
At Litchfield, Gen. Oliver Wolcott erected a shed in his orchard and supervised a group of family members and neighbors in casting 42,088 bullets. This count was meticulously recorded in a document, which has survived. Gen. Wolcott's young son Frederick was credited with casting 936 bullets. Many years later Judge Frederick Wolcott read details of the event for Rev. George Woodruff's History of Litchfield, published in 1845: "My father chopped it up with his ax and the girls had a frolic in running it into bullets. " No one in Litchfield noticed at the time that a statue of 4,000 pounds, at 20 bullets to the pound, should have yielded almost twice as many bullets as the 42,088 produced. Henry Chichester, however, made note of the loss in a latter kept by his family until it was destroyed in a fire in 1830.
This article is based on a talk that was presented at a November, 1997 meeting of the Connecticut Society's Roger Sherman Branch by Robert Russell (center), First Selectman of Wilton and potential SAR. The setting was the Wilton Historical Heritage Museum. Working closely with him in the preparation of the article's manuscript were two members of the branch: Michael R. Harke (left) and Paul Caravatt. Here they are shown in the Museum examining a gilded piece of the George III statue – believed to be from the royal drapery (see drawing reproduced elsewhere).
Missing Pieces Begin To Show Up
This might have been the end of the story, but fifty years later, in Wilton; the missing pieces began to surface. About 1822, young William Comstock, whose grandfather had lived in the Raymond Tavern from 1799-1814, was digging in a field on the hill across the street, near the pond now known as the Davis Swamp. He came upon a 75-lb. piece of lead in the shape of a saddle. It was identified by an aged veteran as a part of the King George statue. The Comstocks sold it to a New York City resident who sold it to Riley's Fifth Ward Museum Hotel in New York City. After Riley's death in 1864, it disappeared.
Also in the 1820s a piece of the lead coat skirt was found by Moses Olmstead under the milk room on the property of his aunt Abigail Sloan, a half mile up the road. Aunt Nabby said that her late husband David (known to be a Tory) had taken some pieces in 1776 and hidden them. (Source: article by Samuel Main, dated Jan 21, 1881.) This piece was shown by Moses Olmstead in 1829, but has not been seen since.
The destruction of the statue with the intent to melt it down for bullets was widely known at the time. It is likely that David Sloan and other local Tories determined to interfere with these plans. A neighbor of Sloan was Job Burlock, who was known to have shielded British agents. Burlock escaped to Long Island in 1778 and his house was confiscated. When he returned in 1783 he was shot dead on his doorstep. The closest Tory neighbor of all was Samuel Belden, who kept a store right across the street, and conveniently had a large pond nearby (Davis Swamp).
More Pieces Discovered
Three more pieces were found either in the Davis Swamp or on the Sloan property before 1830: the left arm, a part of the thigh, and a piece of the saddle mountings, totaling 65 lb. According to D.H. VanHoosear, Mr. Samuel Lambert (a prominent Wilton citizen who lived a mile south in another homestead now owned by the Wilton Historical Society) purchased these in 1837 from the Sloans. Mr. Lambert wrote of this in 1847 but was unclear as to the location of the
As described in the accompanying article, a number of pieces of the original George III statue have been recovered – as indicated here in black sections. This is courtesy of Robert Russell, First Selectman of Wilton, whose talk at a Roger Sherman Branch meeting stimulated preparation of the manuscript.
discovery. He gave the arm piece to his brother-in-law, Mr. Crookshank of Canada. It has since been lost. As of 1894, when VanHoosear wrote his summary, the other two pieces were still in the Lambert family(Source: David VanHoosear, 1844 – 1921, Wilton historian).
A 25-lb. section was given in 1908 to Henry Chichester by Mrs. Eva Ogden Lambert, his sister-in-law and the widow of the last Lambert to live in the Wilton homestead. Henry Chichester was Wilton Town Clerk for many years and kept the piece on display in his office. He was also the grandson of the Henry Chichester who drove the oxcarts in 1776. His son Sherwood Chichester inherited the piece and later gave it to Charles Weitzel, a plumber, who almost melted it down before discovering its history. His granddaughter, Mrs. Mary Jane Weitzel Glanz of Ridgefield, owned it in 1975. This piece was described as a part of the saddle by Henry Chichester's widow in a letter to Clerc Ogden, but is described as a piece of the foreleg by other writers.
And Even More Pieces
Mrs. Eva Ogden Lambert gave her brother George Ogden another piece, weighing about 20 lb. and said to be either part of the royal cape or the horse's mane. George's son Clerc Ogden, (1888-1972), who was also a Wilton historian and Wilton Registrar of Voters from 1915 – 1960, gave this piece to the Connecticut State Library in 1960 when he retired and moved to Florida.
Bowling Green in New York City was the site of the George III statue. The original fence still encompasses the area.
(Photos courtesy of Dr. Laurence Simpson, a resident of New York City who is working on a book about Revolutionary War markers. A member of the Board of Managers of the SR of New York, he also serves as Chairman of that group's Color Guard – along with Compatriot Edward Franklin Romig, II, Color Guard Vice Chairman and President of the Connecticut Society's Roger Sherman Branch.)
Another small piece of gilded royal cloak, said to have come from the Davis Swamp, was owned by Dr. Andrew Gorham, (1851-1907). His widow Deborah, (1855-1937), gave it to a friend John Davenport, (1910-9 1), who in turn gave it to the Wilton Historical Society in 1965.
The largest find to date was in 1874, by Peter Coley, who by then owned the Sloan place. He plowed up some 200 lbs. of tail, flank, and saddle, which he sold for $100 to the New York Historical Society. Another Coley had donated a small fragment to the same society in 1875. Mr. VanHoosear placed a wooden marker in front of the former Sloan place in about 1900 to commemorate the 1874 discovery.
Almost 100 years lapsed before the next find in 1972. Wilton resident Lou Miller, with the advantage of a modem metal detector, discovered a 20 lb. piece in Davis Swamp; unfortunately, without permission of the property owners. He sold the piece to the Museum of the City of New York for $5,500. The property owners sued and won after a six-year court fight, and then agreed to go through with the sale to the museum for the same price.
So the scorecard is 2, 100 lbs. made into bullets, about 50 lbs. in the head, which went to London, 420 lb. found in Wilton. and about 1,400 lb. unaccounted for.
Now A Race Against Time
But this is still not the end of the story. The Davis Swamp property is about to be developed into a 26-house subdivision. Connecticut State Archaeologist, Dr. Nicholas F Bellantoni, was contacted by Compatriot Michael Harke, and permission was received from the current owners to search the property for additional pieces of the statue.
The fence features a number of supporting posts. The crowns were cut off at the same time the statue was taken down in 1776.
This tail was part of the original horse depicted in the George III statue. It still shows traces of gilding. (Courtesy of the New York Historical Society.)
As a result of the article that appeared in the Wilton Bulletin, after Robert Russell's presentation to the Roger Sherman Branch in November, another Wilton resident has come forward with an as yet unconfirmed piece of the statue.
On November 29, 1997, Dr. Bellantoni and a group of individuals with metal detectors began the process of combing the 27-acre site. Although nothing has been found yet, the search will continue.
This article has been reproduced from the Winter, 1998 issue of The SAR Magazine.
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© 1996 - 2019 Connecticut (CT) Sons of the American Revolution - All Rights Reserved.


text:
LG Confirms Optimus G Pro to have a 5.5-inch Full HD Display
LG's Optimus G has been quite a success for the company, selling over 1 million units worldwide according to the Korean-based company. Naturally that success will give way to successive models, and the start of it seems to be the LG Optimus G Pro. Pulling away from the 4.7″ display of the Optimus G, the Optimus G Pro looks to be a direct competitor to the Samsung Galaxy Note II with a 5.5″ display.
LG is looking to one-up Samsung in the resolution department though, putting a full-HD 1080p 5.5″ screen here as opposed to the Note II's 720p 5.5″ screen.
Just about every other spec on it looks to one-up the Note II in some way or form as well. Inside you'll find:
1.7GHz Quad-Core Qualcomm Snapdragon S4 processor
32GB of internal storage
Removable microSD card support
LTE connectivity
13MP rear-facing camera
The processor is likely the same found in the Nexus 4 and the Optimus G, which is a powerhouse compared to even the blazing fast quad-core Exynos found in the Note II. One thing that looks to be missing, however, is something to rival the S-Pen. If it's there then LG certainly hasn't made a big deal about it, and the S-Pen is something that truly sets the Note II apart and makes it more than just a "Huge Phone." You'll also find that the lower portion of the phone bares resemblance to Samsung's phones, but with the capacitive buttons reversed (and in a sensible order). No word on whether or not this will make it out of Korea, but we'll let you know if it does!
Via - UnwiredView
Leaks LG LG Optimus G Pro News Rumors


What possible meanings can "I am down" have?
1) Do you wanna go to a movie?
2) How you doing? How you feeling? Are you Ok?
I am down, lost my job, my girlfriend broke up with me.
please, could you teachers gimme more examples and proofread these sentences?
I"m down with that - that sounds good (or at least okay) to me. Don't just say "I'm down."
I'm in - Generally, you wouldn't say that if someone asked if you wanted to go to the movies. You may say that if someone says that a group is going, and you are joining them, but not just one person to another.
I'm feeling a little down, I'm a little down today - that means sad, yes.
Many thanks Barb, please, come to the forums more often.
She's down with a cold.


Are we baking cookies or making slime! Whether you love baking gingerbread man cookies, are planning a gingerbread theme lesson, or just love anything scented, our newest gingerbread slime is the answer. Our holidays slimes are really popular, and this year I challenged us to come up with a gingerbread man series. Enjoy the scented science and sensory play that is so easy to make with our homemade slime recipes.
I love the smell of gingerbread around Christmas time, don't you? Why not engage the sense of smell while you play with homemade slime!
If you have been around with us for a little while, you know how much we love slime. We have tons of Christmas and Holiday theme slimes. I guess you could say we are slime crazy, and that's because our basic collection of slime recipes are so easy to make.
We are excited to share that you can make this gingerbread man slime recipe with any of our basic slime recipes, and I bet you could even try it with our fluffy slime recipe too. Scroll down to pick your favorite slime recipe to try.
MAKE SURE TO BOOKMARK ALL OUR HOLIDAY AND CHRISTMAS SLIMES!
This season we are exploring a gingerbread man science theme. We have already checked out dissolving gingerbread men, crystal gingerbread men, salt crystal gingerbread men, gingerbread man cookie chemistry, and now we have gingerbread slime with gingerbread men cookie cutters!
CHECK OUT OUR PLAY WITH GINGERBREAD SLIME AND LOOK FOR THE RECIPE BELOW!
Adding any of your cookie cutters not just the gingerbread man ones is perfect! You can also add buttons, glitter, an whatever else you think the kids will enjoy. Plus, who doesn't love the smell of gingerbread cookies!
Our gingerbread slime is definitely different than gingerbread play dough! I have a kid who loves slime more than play dough, but I still want to have some of the fun of the classic gingerbread man play dough activities. This is it!
Our scented gingerbread slime is awesome on the senses. My husband and son thought I was baking cookies. Apparently, that's going to be next on my to-do list this week! Slime is an amazing tactile experience with or without the scent.
What else can you do with those cookie cutters, check out this simple gingerbread man pattern art project for the kids to do anytime! Or you can use those cookie cutters for fizzy science!
I always encourage my readers to read through the recommended slime supplies list and troubleshooting guide before making slime. Learn how to stock your pantry with the best slime-gredients.
The spices give the slime its wonderful color just like the classic play dough recipes! I mixed in a tablespoon and a half of cinnamon and a 1/4 teaspoon of both ground cloves and ginger to the water and glue mixture.
It will take a bit to get it mixed in. If you want you can just pour the starch into the same container, but it's important to transfer the already made slime to a dry container.
I love trying out a little something different with my son and our gingerbread slime is a great twist on the classic gingerbread play dough you can also make! Slime is excellent play and science!
Try something a little different for Christmas with gingerbread man themed slime.
CHRISTMAS GINGERBREAD SLIME FOR KIDS TO MAKE TOO!
All the best Christmas science for the season! Click on the photo to find some really cool ideas.
Our slime recipe has it's own dedicated page so with full instructions and measurements. If you click on the black button that says slime recipe, you will find everything you need to know to get started.
I have the same problem. Can only get to blank page with image of black text!
Tried on iPad and desktop. Can't get to recipe.
My apologies, it should work for you know!
Thank you for noticing, I have fixed the error!


text:
Nino Tempo & April Stevens
[ Jasmine / CD ]
Release Date: Friday 13 October 2017
This item is currently out of stock. We expect to be able to supply it to you within 2 - 4 weeks from when you place your order.
Long before they hit with the million-selling 'Deep Purple', in 1963, brother/sister team NINO TEMPO & APRIL STEVENS had each pursued solo careers and also recorded as a duo, with varying levels of success.
This compilation presents a 'Very Best Of' those early years, ranging from April's long forgotten/oft controversial early solo hits, to their first recordings together.
Includes the pick of April's early 50s sides, like 'Don't Do It', 'I'm In Love Again' (a Top 10 hit), 'Gimme A Little Kiss, Will Ya, Huh?' (also Top 10), 'And So To Sleep Again' (Top 30) and 'How Could Red Riding Hood (Have Been So Very Good)?' as well as her sensational, overtly suggestive (and much-banned) 1959 comeback hit, 'Teach Me Tiger'.
Juxtaposed alongside these are the best of Nino's early solo 45s, like 'Tempo's Tempo' (from The Girl Can't Help It), 'Fifteen Girl Friends', 'Blue Eyed Baby' (on which he was billed as Tony Shepperd) and 'Jack The Ripper'.
Also, their earliest duets, like 'High School Sweetheart', 'A Letter On A Train'/'Big John' (on which they were billed as Carol & Anthony) and their first two hits, 'Sweet And Lovely' and 'Paradise'.
Many of these sides are obscure, collectors' rarities, and unavailable elsewhere on CD.
1. April Stevens - Don't Do It
2. April Stevens - I'm In Love Again
3. April Stevens - Gimme A Little Kiss, Will Ya, Huh?
4. April Stevens - And So To Sleep Again
5. April Stevens - Put Me In Your Pocket
6. April Stevens - That Naughty Waltz
7. April Stevens - How Could Red Riding Hood (Have Been So Very Good?)
8. Nino Tempo - Tempo's Tempo
9. Nino Tempo - Fifteen Girl Friends
10. Nino Tempo - Loonie 'Bout Junie
11. Tony Shepperd - Blue Eyed Baby
12. Tony Shepperd - Zach (Zack)
13. April Stevens - Teach Me Tiger
14. April Stevens - That Warm Afternoon
15. Nino Tempo - Ding-A-Ling
16. Nino Tempo - When You Were Sweet Sixteen
17. Nino Tempo - Jack The Ripper
18. April Stevens - In Other Words
19. April Stevens - Jonny
20. Nino Tempo - Lipstick On Your Lips
21. April Stevens & Nino Tempo - High School Sweetheart
22. April Stevens & Nino Tempo - Ooeah! (That's What You Do To Me)
23. Carol & Anthony - A Letter On A Train
24. Carol & Anthony - Big John
25. April Stevens - Do It Again
26. April Stevens - I Want A Lip
27. April Stevens - That's My Name
28. April Stevens - Love Kitten
29. April Stevens - You And You Only
30. April Stevens & Nino Tempo - Sweet And Lovely
31. April Stevens & Nino Tempo - True Love
32. April Stevens & Nino Tempo - Paradise
33. April Stevens & Nino Tempo - Indian Love Call


text:
Legio I Lynx Fulminata
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by guinevere11 | April 3, 2012 · 11:25 pm
The Upbringing of a Knight
Great knights of medieval times were reared and trained from a young age. A young boy's early life was dictated by this ambition. Years of training and careful upbringing contributed to the prestigious accomplishment of becoming a knight, and potential candidates for knighthood were expected to display certain qualities (Prestwich, 13). Initially, the qualities of knighthood would manifest and then be fostered through play and activities. As the boy grows, he will subsequently become a page and then a squire if he displays and develops the right skills and qualities ("Knights, Squires and Pages").
Similar to modern day children, activities and entertainment during medieval times was primarily a small scale replication of adult life. Model toys imitating common objects used by adults have been traced back as early as the 1300's ("The Culture of Children in Medieval England"; Orme, 53). Similar to toy soldiers of today, fragments have been discovered "portraying knights in armour on horseback" ("Culture…"; Orme, 53).
[Museum of London: replica of a mounted knight; alloy of tin and lead]
("Childhood in Medieval England"; Orme)
Play also became a form of military training in itself. "The liking of children to imitate adults in their play is very ancient, if not natural to humanity" ("Culture…"; Orme 63). Children during medieval times modeled their play after kings and knights, but this had the potential to turn into a "mimicry of their wars and battles" and children were often hurt, or even killed in these mock military engagements ("Culture…"; Orme 63-64). Often young noble children were given small scale weapons to practice with. Young Henry V is said to have had a sword at the age of nine (Prestwich, 20). Research also indicates that a royal statute in 1512 required that "every man with boys in his house, aged from seven to seventeen, was to provide them with a bow and two arrows and bring them up to shoot. Play became formally merged with military training" ("Culture…"; Orme, 63). This merger of military training and childhood activities played a significant role in a young boy's potential for knighthood later in his life.
Although a boy began his journey toward knighthood in his own home, but he could not be expected to acquire all the necessary skills and experience without specific guidance (Alchin). Around the age of seven many boys were sent to become pages where they were able to gain an education at the hands of a nobleman and his wife (Prestwich, 14). This education included: caring for and using military equipment, learning proper manners at court, learning to read and write, riding and handling horses, practice wielding lance and sword, and gaining the necessary physical strength and stamina to endure difficult training and future battles (Prestwich, 14-19).
After years of being trained as a page—around the age of fifteen—a young prospective knight could become a squire ("Knights, Squires and Pages"). Each squire would continue his training in the service of a knight, and hopefully after acquiring and proving that he possessed all the necessary skills, the young squire would "receive the accolade of knighthood" (Prestwich, 21).
Alchin, Linda. "Steps to Knighthood." Middle Ages. 2 April 2012. www.middle-ages.org.uk
Orme, Nicolas. "The Culture of Children in Medieval England." Past & Present, 148. (1995): 48-88. JSTOR. PDF file. 2 April 2012. http://www.jstor.org/stable/651048.
Orme, Nicolas. "Childhood in Medieval England, c. 500-1500." Historical Essays, University of Pittsburgh. (2005). 2 April 2012. http://www.representingchildhood.pitt.edu/medieval_child.htm
Prestwich, Michael. "Upbringing & Training." Knight: The Medieval Warrior's Unofficial Manual. London: Thames & Hudson, 2010. Print.
"Knights, Squires & Pages." The Middle Ages for Kids. 2 April 2012. http://medievaleurope.mrdonn.org/knights.html
The Modern Hero
Heroism and Chivalry
The Anglo-Norman Hero
The Anglo-Norman Definition of Heroism
The Anglo-Saxon Hero
Class Stuff
Cohort II
Cohort VII Scutum Decoris
Final Projects – Cohort VII
Final Projects — Cohort II
Genocide Awareness
Marathon, Thermopylae & Salamis
Legio I Lynx Fulminata · Thundering through history