Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Negro Regiment Attacked By Rebels and Bloodhounds Plus Christmas Vandals in Georgia
Via Bernhard
Mrs. Mary S. Mallard in Her Journal [1864, Liberty County, Georgia]
“Monday, December 19th. Squads of Yankees came all day, so that the servants scarcely had a moment to do anything for us out of the house. The women, finding it unsafe for them to be out of the house at all, would run in and conceal themselves in our dwelling. The few remaining chickens and some sheep were killed. These men were so outrageous at the Negro houses that the Negro men were obliged to stay at their houses for the protection of their wives; and in some instances, they rescued them from the hands of these infamous creatures.
Tuesday, December 20th. A squad of Yankees came soon after breakfast. Hearing there was one yoke of oxen left, they rode into the pasture and drove them up . . . needing a chain . . . they went to the well and took it from the well bucket. Mother went out and entreated them not to take it from the well, as it was our means of getting water.
They replied: “You have no right to have even wood or water,” and immediately took it away.
Wednesday, December 21st. 10 A.M. Six of Kilpatrick’s cavalry rode up, one of them mounted on Mrs. Mallard’s valuable gray named Jim. They looked into the dairy and empty smokehouse, every lock having been broken and doors wide open day and night. They searched the servants’ houses; then the thundered at the door of the dwelling. Mother opened it, when one of them presented a pistol to her breast and demanded why she dared keep her house closed, and that “he be damned if he would not come into it.”
She replied, “I prefer to keep my house closed because we are a helpless and defenseless family of women and children.” He replied, “I’ll be damned if I don’t just take what I want. Some of the men got wine here, and we must have some.” She told them her house had been four times searched in every part, and everything taken from it. And recognizing one who had been of the party that had robbed us, she said: “You know my meal and everything has been taken.”
He said, “We left you a sack of meal and that rice.”
Mother said, “You left us some rice; but out of twelve bushels of meal you poured out a quart or so upon the floor---as you said, to keep us from starving.”
Upon one occasion one of the men as he sat on the bench in the piazza had his coat buttoned top and bottom, and inside we could plainly see a long row of stolen breast jewelry---gallant trophies, won from defenseless women and children at the South to adorn the persons of their mothers, wives, sisters, and friends in Yankeeland!”
(The War the Women Lived, Walter Sullivan, J.S. Sanders & Company, 1995, pp. 238-239)
Christmas Cheer on the Plantation
Via Bernhard
“The great fete of the people was Christmas. [All] times and seasons paled and dimmed before the festive joys of Christmas. It had been handed down for generations . . . it had come over with their forefathers. It had a peculiar significance. It was a title. Religion had given it its benediction. It was the time to “Shout the glad tidings.” It was The Holidays.
There were other holidays for the slaves, both of the school-room and the plantation, such as Easter and Whit-Monday; but Christmas was distinctively “The Holidays.”
Then the boys came home from college with their friends; the members of the family who moved away returned; pretty cousins came for the festivities; the neighborhood grew merry; the Negroes were all to have a holiday, the house-servants taking turn and turn about, and the plantation made ready for Christmas cheer.
The corn was got in; the hogs were killed; the lard “tried”; sausage-meat made; mince-meat prepared; the turkeys fattened, with “the big old gobbler” specially devoted to the “Christmas dinner”; the servants new shoes and winter clothes stored away ready for distribution; and the plantation began to be ready to prepare for Christmas.
In the first place, there was generally a cold spell which froze up everything and enabled the ice-houses to be filled. The wagons all were put to hauling wood – hickory; nothing but hickory now; other wood might do for other times, but at Christmas only hickory was used; and the wood-pile was heaped high with the logs . . .
In the midst of it came the wagon or ox-cart from “the depot,” with the big white boxes of Christmas things, the black driver feigning hypocritical indifference as he drove through the choppers to the storeroom. Then came the rush of all the wood-cutters to help him unload . . . as they pretended to strain in lifting, of what “master” or “mistis” was going to give them out of those boxes, uttered just loud enough to reach their master’s or mistress’s ears where they stood looking on, while the driver took due advantage of his temporary prestige to give many pompous cautions and directions.
The getting the evergreens and mistletoe was the sign that Christmas had come, was really here. There were the parlor and hall and dining-room, and, above all, the old church, to be “dressed.” The last was a neighborhood work; all united in it, and it was one of the events of the year.
Then by “Christmas Eve’s eve” the wood was all cut and stacked high in the wood-house and on and under the back porticos, so as to be handy, and secure from the snow which was almost certain to come. The excitement increased; the boxes were unpacked, some of them openly, to the general delight, others with a mysterious secrecy which stimulated the curiosity to its highest point and added to the charm of the occasion.
The kitchen filled up with assistants famed for special skill in particular branches of the cook’s art, who bustled about with glistening faces and shining teeth, proud of their elevation and eager to add to the general cheer.
It was now Christmas Eve. From time to time the “hired out” servants came home from Richmond where they had been hired or had hired out themselves, their terms having been common custom framed, with due regard to their rights to the holiday, to expire in time for them to spend the Christmas at home. There was much hilarity over their arrival, with their new winter clothes donned a little ahead of time, they came to pay their “bespecs” to master and mistis.
Later on the children were got to bed, scarce able to keep in their pallets for excitement; the stockings were all hung up over the big fireplace; and the grown people grew gay in the crowded parlors. Next morning before light the stir began. White-clad little figures stole about in the gloom, with bulging stockings clasped to their bosoms, opening doors, shouting “Christmas gift!” into dark rooms at sleeping elders, and then scurrying away like so many white mice, squeaking with delight, to rake open the embers and inspect their treasures. At prayers, “Shout the glad tidings” was sung by fresh young voices with due fervor.
How gay the scene was at breakfast! What pranks had been performed in the name of Santa Claus! The larger part of the day was spend in going to and coming from the beautifully dressed church, where the service was read, and the anthems and hymns were sung by everybody, for everyone was happy.
Dinner was the great event. It was the test of the mistress and the cook, or, rather, the cooks; for the kitchen now was full of them. The old mahogany table, stretched diagonally across the ding room, groaned; the big gobbler filled the pace of honor; a great round of beef held the second place; an old ham, with every other dish that ingenuity, backed by long experience, could devise, was at the side, and the shining sideboard, gleaming with glass, scarcely held the dessert. After dinner there were apple-toddy and eggnog, as there had been before.
There were Negro parties, where the ladies and gentlemen went to look on, the suppers having been superintended by the mistresses, and the tables being decorated by their own white hands. There was almost sure to be a Negro wedding during the holidays. The ceremony might be performed in the dining-room or in the hall by the Master, or in a quarter by a colored preacher; but it was a gay occasion, and the dusky bride’s trousseau had been arranged by her young mistress, and the family was on hand to get fun out of the entertainment.”
(The Old South, Essays Social and Political, Charles Scribner’s & Sons, 1892, pp. 174-183)
“The great fete of the people was Christmas. [All] times and seasons paled and dimmed before the festive joys of Christmas. It had been handed down for generations . . . it had come over with their forefathers. It had a peculiar significance. It was a title. Religion had given it its benediction. It was the time to “Shout the glad tidings.” It was The Holidays.
There were other holidays for the slaves, both of the school-room and the plantation, such as Easter and Whit-Monday; but Christmas was distinctively “The Holidays.”
Then the boys came home from college with their friends; the members of the family who moved away returned; pretty cousins came for the festivities; the neighborhood grew merry; the Negroes were all to have a holiday, the house-servants taking turn and turn about, and the plantation made ready for Christmas cheer.
The corn was got in; the hogs were killed; the lard “tried”; sausage-meat made; mince-meat prepared; the turkeys fattened, with “the big old gobbler” specially devoted to the “Christmas dinner”; the servants new shoes and winter clothes stored away ready for distribution; and the plantation began to be ready to prepare for Christmas.
In the first place, there was generally a cold spell which froze up everything and enabled the ice-houses to be filled. The wagons all were put to hauling wood – hickory; nothing but hickory now; other wood might do for other times, but at Christmas only hickory was used; and the wood-pile was heaped high with the logs . . .
In the midst of it came the wagon or ox-cart from “the depot,” with the big white boxes of Christmas things, the black driver feigning hypocritical indifference as he drove through the choppers to the storeroom. Then came the rush of all the wood-cutters to help him unload . . . as they pretended to strain in lifting, of what “master” or “mistis” was going to give them out of those boxes, uttered just loud enough to reach their master’s or mistress’s ears where they stood looking on, while the driver took due advantage of his temporary prestige to give many pompous cautions and directions.
The getting the evergreens and mistletoe was the sign that Christmas had come, was really here. There were the parlor and hall and dining-room, and, above all, the old church, to be “dressed.” The last was a neighborhood work; all united in it, and it was one of the events of the year.
Then by “Christmas Eve’s eve” the wood was all cut and stacked high in the wood-house and on and under the back porticos, so as to be handy, and secure from the snow which was almost certain to come. The excitement increased; the boxes were unpacked, some of them openly, to the general delight, others with a mysterious secrecy which stimulated the curiosity to its highest point and added to the charm of the occasion.
The kitchen filled up with assistants famed for special skill in particular branches of the cook’s art, who bustled about with glistening faces and shining teeth, proud of their elevation and eager to add to the general cheer.
It was now Christmas Eve. From time to time the “hired out” servants came home from Richmond where they had been hired or had hired out themselves, their terms having been common custom framed, with due regard to their rights to the holiday, to expire in time for them to spend the Christmas at home. There was much hilarity over their arrival, with their new winter clothes donned a little ahead of time, they came to pay their “bespecs” to master and mistis.
Later on the children were got to bed, scarce able to keep in their pallets for excitement; the stockings were all hung up over the big fireplace; and the grown people grew gay in the crowded parlors. Next morning before light the stir began. White-clad little figures stole about in the gloom, with bulging stockings clasped to their bosoms, opening doors, shouting “Christmas gift!” into dark rooms at sleeping elders, and then scurrying away like so many white mice, squeaking with delight, to rake open the embers and inspect their treasures. At prayers, “Shout the glad tidings” was sung by fresh young voices with due fervor.
How gay the scene was at breakfast! What pranks had been performed in the name of Santa Claus! The larger part of the day was spend in going to and coming from the beautifully dressed church, where the service was read, and the anthems and hymns were sung by everybody, for everyone was happy.
Dinner was the great event. It was the test of the mistress and the cook, or, rather, the cooks; for the kitchen now was full of them. The old mahogany table, stretched diagonally across the ding room, groaned; the big gobbler filled the pace of honor; a great round of beef held the second place; an old ham, with every other dish that ingenuity, backed by long experience, could devise, was at the side, and the shining sideboard, gleaming with glass, scarcely held the dessert. After dinner there were apple-toddy and eggnog, as there had been before.
There were Negro parties, where the ladies and gentlemen went to look on, the suppers having been superintended by the mistresses, and the tables being decorated by their own white hands. There was almost sure to be a Negro wedding during the holidays. The ceremony might be performed in the dining-room or in the hall by the Master, or in a quarter by a colored preacher; but it was a gay occasion, and the dusky bride’s trousseau had been arranged by her young mistress, and the family was on hand to get fun out of the entertainment.”
(The Old South, Essays Social and Political, Charles Scribner’s & Sons, 1892, pp. 174-183)
The Extraordinary Life of Barack Obama’s Imaginary Son
Via Jeffery
In an upcoming People magazine interview, Barack and Michelle Obama sit down and discuss life as the First Oppressed Couple of the United States. Hoping to shed light and relate to recent events in Ferguson, Missouri, and New York City, Barack reached into the upstairs White House bedroom of his mind and called upon his famous imaginary son to make an appearance:
In an upcoming People magazine interview, Barack and Michelle Obama sit down and discuss life as the First Oppressed Couple of the United States. Hoping to shed light and relate to recent events in Ferguson, Missouri, and New York City, Barack reached into the upstairs White House bedroom of his mind and called upon his famous imaginary son to make an appearance:
More @ Ricochet
Christmas Letter to One of Lee’s Daughters
Via Bernhard
Coosawatchie, South Carolina, December 25, 1861
“My Dear Daughter,
Having distributed such poor Christmas gifts as I had to those around me, I have been looking for something for you. Trifles even are hard to get in these war times, and you must not therefore expect more. I have sent you what I thought most useful in your separation from me and hope it will be of some service.
Though stigmatized as “vile dross,” it has never been a drug with me. That you may never want for it, restrict your wants to your necessities. Yet how little it will purchase! But see how God provides for our pleasure in every way. To compensate for such “trash,” I send you some sweet violets that I gathered for you this morning while covered with dense white frost, whose crystals glittered in the bright sun like diamonds, and formed a brooch of great beauty and sweetness which could not be fabricated by the expenditure of a world of money.
May God guard and preserve you for me, my dear daughter! Among the calamities of war, the hardest to bear, perhaps, is the separation of families and friends. Yet all must be endured to accomplish our independence and maintain our self-government. In my absence from you I have thought of you very often and regretted I could do nothing for your comfort. Your old home, if not destroyed by our enemies, has been so desecrated that I cannot bear to think of it. I should have preferred it to have been wiped from the earth, it’s beautiful hill sunk, and its sacred trees buried rather than to have been degraded by the presence of those who revel in the ill they do for their own selfish purposes.
I pray for a better spirit and that the hearts of our enemies may be changed. In your homeless condition I hope you make yourself contented and useful. Occupy yourself in aiding those more helpless than yourself. Think always of your father.
R.E. Lee.”
(And to One of His Daughters, Civil War Christmas Album, Philip Van Doren, editor, Hawthorne Books, 1961, page 19)
Coosawatchie, South Carolina, December 25, 1861
“My Dear Daughter,
Having distributed such poor Christmas gifts as I had to those around me, I have been looking for something for you. Trifles even are hard to get in these war times, and you must not therefore expect more. I have sent you what I thought most useful in your separation from me and hope it will be of some service.
Though stigmatized as “vile dross,” it has never been a drug with me. That you may never want for it, restrict your wants to your necessities. Yet how little it will purchase! But see how God provides for our pleasure in every way. To compensate for such “trash,” I send you some sweet violets that I gathered for you this morning while covered with dense white frost, whose crystals glittered in the bright sun like diamonds, and formed a brooch of great beauty and sweetness which could not be fabricated by the expenditure of a world of money.
May God guard and preserve you for me, my dear daughter! Among the calamities of war, the hardest to bear, perhaps, is the separation of families and friends. Yet all must be endured to accomplish our independence and maintain our self-government. In my absence from you I have thought of you very often and regretted I could do nothing for your comfort. Your old home, if not destroyed by our enemies, has been so desecrated that I cannot bear to think of it. I should have preferred it to have been wiped from the earth, it’s beautiful hill sunk, and its sacred trees buried rather than to have been degraded by the presence of those who revel in the ill they do for their own selfish purposes.
I pray for a better spirit and that the hearts of our enemies may be changed. In your homeless condition I hope you make yourself contented and useful. Occupy yourself in aiding those more helpless than yourself. Think always of your father.
R.E. Lee.”
(And to One of His Daughters, Civil War Christmas Album, Philip Van Doren, editor, Hawthorne Books, 1961, page 19)
CUNY Editor Calls For Violence Against ‘White Supremacist State’
Via Billy
The editor-in-chief of the graduate student newspaper of the City University of New York (CUNY) urges violent protests against what he terms the “white supremacist state” in the wake of the deaths of Eric Garner, Michael Brown and other black men.
“The time for peace has passed,” writes Gordon Barnes in the Advocate. “When a cop kills a civilian, even if the civilian did not have a weapon, the trend seems to be that the officer is cleared of any wrong doing…One needs to only conduct a brief Internet search to see videos of police in the United States wantonly killing people whilst in the line of duty.”
The editor-in-chief of the graduate student newspaper of the City University of New York (CUNY) urges violent protests against what he terms the “white supremacist state” in the wake of the deaths of Eric Garner, Michael Brown and other black men.
“The time for peace has passed,” writes Gordon Barnes in the Advocate. “When a cop kills a civilian, even if the civilian did not have a weapon, the trend seems to be that the officer is cleared of any wrong doing…One needs to only conduct a brief Internet search to see videos of police in the United States wantonly killing people whilst in the line of duty.”
More @ Breitbart
Armed Teen Met His Match When He Tried To Steal Man’s Shoes
Via Joe
When a store at Dayton Mall in Miami Township, Ohio, opened for business Dec. 20, the rush to purchase pairs of a limited edition athletic shoe meant everyone in line was not able to leave with the desired product. Police said one rejected customer resorted to armed robbery in an attempt to obtain a pair of Air Jordan shoes from a shopper outside of the mall.
Sixteen-year-old Jawaad Jabbar pulled a gun on two men and demanded the shoes, said police Sgt. Jay Phares.
“This was a random act of ‘I want something that person has and I’m going to take it from them by any means,” he explained.
To his detriment, however, one of Jabbar’s victims was also carrying a firearm and fatally shot the teen.
When a store at Dayton Mall in Miami Township, Ohio, opened for business Dec. 20, the rush to purchase pairs of a limited edition athletic shoe meant everyone in line was not able to leave with the desired product. Police said one rejected customer resorted to armed robbery in an attempt to obtain a pair of Air Jordan shoes from a shopper outside of the mall.
Sixteen-year-old Jawaad Jabbar pulled a gun on two men and demanded the shoes, said police Sgt. Jay Phares.
“This was a random act of ‘I want something that person has and I’m going to take it from them by any means,” he explained.
To his detriment, however, one of Jabbar’s victims was also carrying a firearm and fatally shot the teen.
More @ Western Journalism
“ISIS is not fanatic. ISIS is not more terrible. ISIS is real Muslim believers who like to follow the Quran and Muhammad,”
Via Michael via WRSA
It is the season of “peace on Earth,” but Sister Hatune Dogan has a chill in her spirit that could only be felt in a time of war.
The Orthodox Christian nun feels it with each new atrocity committed
against the Yazidi and Christian minorities of Syria and Iraq. She feels
it in the church burnings across Egypt and the slaughter of innocent
children in Pakistan.
For this reason she brought a word of warning to Americans in a visit last week to Minnesota, where she spoke to several church groups.
Today’s political climate draws her back to 1915 and her native Turkey, when her family experienced the cruelty of the Ottoman caliphate, which slaughtered 3 million Christians and reduced others to second-class status under subjugation, or “dhimmitude.”
ISIS is nothing new, she said, just the re-emergence of Islam’s dark side.
It is the season of “peace on Earth,” but Sister Hatune Dogan has a chill in her spirit that could only be felt in a time of war.
For this reason she brought a word of warning to Americans in a visit last week to Minnesota, where she spoke to several church groups.
Today’s political climate draws her back to 1915 and her native Turkey, when her family experienced the cruelty of the Ottoman caliphate, which slaughtered 3 million Christians and reduced others to second-class status under subjugation, or “dhimmitude.”
ISIS is nothing new, she said, just the re-emergence of Islam’s dark side.
More @ WND
ISIS tries to influence criminals in Ferguson
The tweets say "Hey blacks, ISIS will save you," and use the hashtags #IslamicState, #Ferguson and #Coming. The terror group ISIS, or Islamic State for Iraq and Syria was recruiting criminals and anarchists in Ferguson.
The FBI received the intelligence through situational reports. ISIS was targeting the criminals, not the peaceful protesters in Ferguson. ISIS wants nothing to do with people fighting for social justice.
The U.S. Attorney in Southern District of Illinois, Steve Wigginton, said ISIS wants people who hate the U.S. government as much they do.
"We received intelligence reports for law enforcement showing actual tweets ISIS was putting out encouraging Americans to join the people who were burning down buildings in Ferguson to engage that kind of conduct across America," said Wigginton.
More with video @ WSDK
Activist That Introduced UVA’s ‘Jackie’ To Rolling Stone Made Numerous White House Visits
Via Joe
The activist that introduced false University of Virginia rape accuser “Jackie” to Rolling Stone magazine worked with top White House advisers in the Eisenhower Executive Office Building to craft websites and official documents on the White House’s college sexual assault policies.
Emily Renda, who works in the vice president for student affairs office at UVA, put “Jackie” in touch with Rolling Stone reporter Sabrina Rubin Erdely for Erdely’s now discredited expose on a fictional fraternity gang rape.
“You figure into the article as a survivor, activist and mentor/support for Jackie,” Erdely wrote to Renda in an email.
The activist that introduced false University of Virginia rape accuser “Jackie” to Rolling Stone magazine worked with top White House advisers in the Eisenhower Executive Office Building to craft websites and official documents on the White House’s college sexual assault policies.
Emily Renda, who works in the vice president for student affairs office at UVA, put “Jackie” in touch with Rolling Stone reporter Sabrina Rubin Erdely for Erdely’s now discredited expose on a fictional fraternity gang rape.
“You figure into the article as a survivor, activist and mentor/support for Jackie,” Erdely wrote to Renda in an email.
More @ The Daily Caller
Sheriff Clarke: Obama, Holder, Blasio Made ‘Pathway That Contributes to Unjustifiable Hatred' of Police
More with video @ CNS News
Sharyl Attkisson: White House Hiding Photos Taken Night Of Benghazi Attack
In an interview Tuesday morning with C-SPAN, former CBS reporter Sharyl Attkisson revealed that secret photos taken by the White House photographer have never been released to the public, and current White House Press Secretary Josh Earnest was the one keeping them secret.
More with video @ Daily Caller
Chapel Office of a Protestant Saint
As a college president after the war, General Robert E. Lee gave no indication of being a scholar, did not begin any research of his own, and showed no interest in collecting material for wartime memoirs. Lee informed Scotch visitor David MacRae that he had not read any accounts of the war or biographies. He said: “My own life has been written, but I have not looked into it. I do not want to awaken memories of the past.”
Bernhard Thuersam, www.Circa1865.com
Chapel Office of a Protestant Saint
“Offices are silent biographers of those who spend much of their lives in them. Beginning as inanimate rooms, offices become organic spaces, with personalities and meaning of their own. Robert E. Lee is gone, but his office is intact. After his death, college officials decided to preserve it exactly as it was when he walked out on a soggy fall day in 1870. No major item has been added or removed. Time has been blocked out and history boxed in.
Lee’s office is in the basement of [the chapel he insisted be built for Washington College, and authorized by the Trustees on 18 July 1866]. One naked electric light bulb shines at night, placed where an oil lamp hung in Lee’s day. The brick floor at the foot of the stairs has been worn and cracked by the feet of many pilgrims.
To the modern eye, the fifteen by eighteen foot room seems plain to the point of austerity. There is no rug on the pine floor of random-width boards, no curtains on the two windows, no paintings or prints on the plain white walls. The furnishings reflect the ear and the man.
The largest object in the room is a bookcase . . . [with only] Webster’s dictionary [being] the largest [book in it]. Most of the others were nineteenth century texts: DeVere’s Grammar in French, Brown’s English Grammar with Analysis, Morris’ Greek Grammar and Downes’ Algebra, for example. All are frayed and worn from frequent use.
On the mantle stand three faded pictures: George Peabody, a Northern benefactor, an unidentified Confederate family, and George Washington. Underneath the central table is a large wicker waste basket, given General Lee by a Negro woman. This is all one finds in the office of the American who is regarded by many as a sort of Protestant saints.
Across the hall, a few feet from the office, the earthly remains of Lee are sealed in a family mausoleum. Above him rests his wife. To his right is his father, “Light Horse Harry”; to his left his oldest son, Custis. The General is entombed not far from the place where he worked and where he led in peace a whole region which he could not free in war.
This was the focus and nerve center of his administration. Here we wrote, planned, conferred and meted out justice. Duty, like marrow, was in his bones. Precisely here the college was transformed into a university. Like his clothes, speech, manners and campaigns, the office, too, was fastidious. A passion for order dominated Lee’s whole life.
Rising early, he held private prayers, after which he went promptly to breakfast whish was usually delayed by his tardy wife. There were family prayers at this morning meal as well. Lee ate heartily and left promptly for the seven forty-five chapel service. Lectures began at eight o’clock. By then, he would have slipped downstairs to his office.
Faculty members had to report every week on every student. Lee tabulated and remembered the comments and grades. Soon after the grades were known, Lee arranged to see those who were doing poorly, sending Lewis, the college janitor, to their rooms with notes.
He attended many daily recitations. “I recited in the presence of General Lee many times. It was a severe ordeal,” C.A. Graves, an ex-student, remembered. “I have often wondered how he found the patience to endure the many hours of attendance on the many classes.”
(Lee After the War, The Greatest Period in the Life of a Great American, Marshall W. Fishwick, Dodd, Mead & Company, 1963, excerpts, pp. 128-132)
Violent protests broke out in suburban St. Louis after a black 18-year-old was fatally shot
Via Joe
St. Louis County Police Chief Jon Belmar said the officer was questioning the 18-year-old and another man about a theft late Tuesday at a convenience store in Berkeley when the young man pulled a 9mm handgun on him. The officer stumbled backward but fired three shots, one of which struck the victim, Belmar said.
St. Louis County Police Chief Jon Belmar said the officer was questioning the 18-year-old and another man about a theft late Tuesday at a convenience store in Berkeley when the young man pulled a 9mm handgun on him. The officer stumbled backward but fired three shots, one of which struck the victim, Belmar said.
Police appeal for information 20 years after woman was killed after being set on fire in churchyard
Via Nancy
Police have launched a renewed appeal for information ahead of the 20th anniversary of the horrific murder of a woman who was set alight in a churchyard.
Mother-of-two Tracey Mertens, 31, from Rochdale, sustained 95 per cent burns to her body after she was doused in petrol in Eaton churchyard near Congleton, Cheshire, on December 23, 1994.
A member of the public came to her aid and she was taken to hospital where she was able to tell detectives what had happened to her before she died, 12 hours after the attack.
Police have launched a renewed appeal for information ahead of the 20th anniversary of the horrific murder of a woman who was set alight in a churchyard.
Mother-of-two Tracey Mertens, 31, from Rochdale, sustained 95 per cent burns to her body after she was doused in petrol in Eaton churchyard near Congleton, Cheshire, on December 23, 1994.
A member of the public came to her aid and she was taken to hospital where she was able to tell detectives what had happened to her before she died, 12 hours after the attack.
More @ Manchester Evening News
A Grand And Evil Experiment
Via WRSA
In the era of sailing ships, the New World was difficult to reach. Those who desired to participate in the American experiment had to face weeks, sometimes months of hard living and a significant possibility of death at sea. The hardships and hazards diminished slowly as the Nineteenth Century progressed, by stages bringing us the steam engine, the steel-hulled ocean-going vessel, and ever more reliable methods of navigation and reference.
The involuntary human cargoes some of the sailing ships brought to these shores initiated a second, sociological experiment: a biracial society, at first composed of free white men and black slaves; later, of freed black slaves and the white free born.
That experiment, which looked hopeful up to recently (by historical measures), is looking rather grim today. But it doesn’t stand alone; it’s part of a larger pattern with even more ominous implications.
Earlier today I stumbled upon this bit of opinion from Anthony Bryan:
It's unfortunate, but as my tax preparer says: it is, what it is.
In the era of sailing ships, the New World was difficult to reach. Those who desired to participate in the American experiment had to face weeks, sometimes months of hard living and a significant possibility of death at sea. The hardships and hazards diminished slowly as the Nineteenth Century progressed, by stages bringing us the steam engine, the steel-hulled ocean-going vessel, and ever more reliable methods of navigation and reference.
The involuntary human cargoes some of the sailing ships brought to these shores initiated a second, sociological experiment: a biracial society, at first composed of free white men and black slaves; later, of freed black slaves and the white free born.
That experiment, which looked hopeful up to recently (by historical measures), is looking rather grim today. But it doesn’t stand alone; it’s part of a larger pattern with even more ominous implications.
Earlier today I stumbled upon this bit of opinion from Anthony Bryan:
The black/white experiment has failed.
More @ Liberty's Torch