“Do not think that love in order to be genuine has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired. Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies.” Mother Teresa
I'll be signing books at the Deep River Public Library from 2-4 on Saturday October 3 and later I'll be speaking at Mt. St. John's, please drop by and say hello.
Love to faults is always blind, always is to joy inclined. Lawless, winged, and unconfined, and breaks all chains from every mind.
Visit our Shakespeare Blog at the address below
As a white ppl who doesn’t like a lot of spice, I’m Okay with this.......
Indian restaurant sparks outrage by marking 'white ppl' on order of mild curry
An Indian restaurant in London has come under fire for marking "white ppl" on the receipt for an order of mild curry, The Mirror reports. Stuart Lynn, 44, says he was shocked to discover the receipt that came with his takeout order of venison curry, which he claims is a "slur suggesting white people couldn't handle a hot curry," The Mirror writes.
"It implies we can't deal with strong curries. I do like a hot curry sometimes. I just fancied a mild one for a change. I thought it was very rude of them." [The Mirror]
The owner of Valentine Restaurant denies that "ppl" meant "people," but rather "milk" to denote a sauce made from milk. Lynn, however, remains unconvinced: "What other color is milk?"
HERE'S PLEASANT POEM FOR YOU TO ENJOY................
After the Argument
Whoever spoke first would lose something,
that was the stupid
The stillness would be a clamor, a capo
on a nerve. He’d stare
out the window,
she’d put away dishes, anything
for some noise. They’d sleep
in different rooms.
The trick was to speak as if you hadn’t
spoken, a comment
it wouldn’t be counted as speech.
Or to touch while passing,
of clothing, billowy sleeve against
rolled-up cuff. They couldn’t
each other for more than one day.
Each knew this, each knew
the other’s body
would begin to lean, the voice yearn
for the familiar confluence
of breath and syllable.
When? Who first? It was Yalta, always
on some level the future,
the next time.
there was a cardinal on the bird feeder;
one of them was shameless enough
to say so, the other pleased
to agree. And their sex was a knot
untying itself, a prolonged
“Love is . . . Being happy for the other person when they are happy, Being sad for the person when they are sad, Being together in good times, And being together in bad times.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF STRENGTH.
Love is . . . Being honest with yourself at all times, being honest with the other person at all times, Telling, listening, respecting the truth, And never pretending.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF REALITY.
Love is . . . An understanding so complete that you feel as if you are a part of the other person, accepting the other person just the way they are, and not trying to change them to be something else.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF UNITY.
Love is . . . The freedom to pursue your own desires while sharing your experiences with the other person, the growth of one individual alongside of and together with the growth of another individual.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF SUCCESS.
Love is . . . The excitement of planning things together, the excitement of doing things together.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF THE FUTURE.
Love is . . . The fury of the storm, the calm in the rainbow.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF PASSION.
Love is . . . Giving and taking in a daily situation, being patient with each other's needs and desires.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF SHARING.
Love is . . . Knowing that the other person will always be with you regardless of what happens, Missing the other person when they are away but remaining near in heart at all times.
LOVE IS THE SOURCE OF SECURITY.
LOVE IS . . . THE SOURCE OF LIFE!”
Susan Polis Schutz
THE MOB UNDER SURVEILLANCE
The mark of the man of the world is absence of pretension. He does not make a speech; he takes a low business-tone avoids all brag is nobody dresses plainly promises not at all performs much speaks in monosyllables hugs his fact. He calls his employment by its lowest name and so takes from evil tongues their sharpest weapon. His conversation clings to the weather and the news yet he allows himself to be surprised into thought and the unlocking of his learning and philosophy.
300 quotes from Emerson
To view more Emerson quotes or read a life background on Emerson please visit the books blog spot. We update the blog bi-monthly emersonsaidit.blogspot.com
Boss Joe Adonis (left) later deported
Joe Adonis (left)
Amuso and Cassio
Continuing The Public Theater’s mission to make theater accessible to all, free tickets will be given out for the first performance of shows in The Public’s downtown season at Astor Place. In partnership with TodayTix, New York’s premiere theater ticket app, the FIRST PERFORMANCE “FREE FOR ALL” initiative expands on Joe Papp’s vision to engage the whole city in the transformative experience of theater that started more than 50 years ago with free Shakespeare in the Park at the Delacorte and has since served more than five million people with over 150 free productions.
Upcoming First Performance "Free for All" dates:
• Eclipsed: 9/29
• First Daughter Suite: 10/6
• Before Your Very Eyes: 10/17
FREE TICKETS will be available via TodayTix mobile lottery, launching one week before the first preview of each show in the 2014-2015 season. Winners will be notified by email and push notification between 12:00 p.m. and 3:00 p.m. on the day of the first preview. You must confirm your winning tickets in the TodayTix app within one hour of being notified.
A limited number of tickets will also be distributed through an in-person lottery in the lobby of The Public Theater.
TO ENTER THE MOBILE LOTTERY:
1) Download the TodayTix app http://www.todaytix.com/us/nyc/, open it, and select TodayTix Free First Previews with The Public.
2) Enter the lottery for two free tickets.**
3) On the confirmation screen, you may double or triple your odds by sharing your entry via Facebook and Twitter.
Make sure your name and e-mail address are correct and that TodayTix push notifications are turned on, so you can receive confirmation of lottery status. You will be notified if you've won between noon and 3pm on the day of the show. You must confirm your winning tickets in the TodayTix app within one hour of being notified. Winners may begin to pick up their tickets at 5:30 pm at The Public Theater Box Office, tickets that are not claimed by 30 minutes prior to the scheduled curtain time of the performance will be forfeited to the standby line.
IN PERSON AT THE PUBLIC THEATER:
A limited number of free tickets will be distributed via lottery in the lobby of The Public Theater at Astor Place. Entries will be accepted starting at 11:30am with names drawn at 12pm. Participants will be asked to specify if they want 1 or 2 tickets during entry. One entry per person.
Standby tickets may become available 30 minutes prior to the scheduled curtain time of the performance. The Public will take a limited standby list for one (1) ticket per person on the day of the performance at 6pm. You will then be asked to return to a designated area in the lobby one hour before the performance begins.
*** LIFE JACKET THEATRE COMPANY: CREATING THEATRE FROM REAL EVENTS ***
Life Jacket Theatre Company is now offering a 2-week "production lab" version of our popular Creating Theatre from Real Events Workshop in NYC. Led by award-winning theatre practitioner Leigh Fondakowski (Head Writer, The Laramie Project), this interactive workshop will help you learn how to make theatre out of real life stories. During this workshop you will stage several short pieces based on real events. The experience culminates with work-in-progress showings at a NYC theatre.
*** PRIMARY STAGES: THE ARTISTIC STATEMENT ***
October 17-18: THE ARTISTIC STATEMENT workshop with Stefanie Zadravec (Writer, The Electric Baby at Two River Theatre Company) Don’t let your career or confidence falter because of that dreaded, required field: the artistic statement. In this 2-day workshop, you will conquer the overwhelming task of writing about yourself and your work, gaining practical tips on how to articulate what makes your work vital, and how to make your statement—and your application as a whole—more competitive. Leave this class with a working draft of your new artistic statement and the tools to tailor it to any application. Payment plans available.
*** PLAYWRIGHTS OPPORTUNITIES ***
Bellarmine University in Louisville, KY is proud to announce the return of its International 10- minute Play Festival in March 2016. The festival will run March 16-21 and will consist of 5-6, fully produced 10-minute plays, performed in repertory fashion. We are seeking submissions fromplaywrights interested in participating in this year’s festival.
Last May, Pope Francis issued a letter outlining Catholic doctrine in response to climate change and the need to protect “our common home.” This year, our festival will pick up on the pope’s charge as we are seeking plays that deal with the theme of OUR COMMON HOME.
Stage Left Theater call for 1-minute plays for Fast & Furious
Stage Left Theater, of Spokane, WA, is pleased to announce its call for 1-minute scripts for Fast & Furious, a staged reading of really short plays, in February 2016.
*What? 1-minute plays (2 page maximum for dialogues, 1 page maximum for monologues)
*Two scripts maximum.
*All genres welcome (no children’s plays or musicals)
*Playwrights can be from anywhere, but plays must be in English.
*Standard play format preferred.
*There are no restrictions on content, but our audiences prefer more PG-13 fare.
*Cast size, no restrictions
The Resident Theatre Company (RTC) at Fullerton College is seeking submissions of original full-length plays and original full-length musical theatre works of any genre for its 26th Annual Playwright's Festival to be held January 4-22, 2016 in the Fullerton College Bronwyn Dodson Theatre, Fullerton CA. Accepted scripts are workshopped and given a staged reading/performance.
Company members in the Festival have the unique opportunity to participate in the script development process from several angles. Performers have the chance to be the first to bring life to a written character, as well as learn the skills of efficient preparation for script-in-hand reading and the flexibility necessary for working with a fluid and changing script. Company members watch the process unfold and see how various choices impact the direction of a play, learning various critical tools to help understand why and how a piece of theater has its effect. By the time of the rehearsed readings, members of the company will be able to respond to the scripts both as performers and as colleagues of the playwrights.
*** FOR MORE INFORMATION on these and other opportunities see the web site athttp://www.nycplaywrights.org ***
*** SEX ON STAGE ***
Let’s Talk About It: An Exploration of Sex and the New American Theater
Why is sex on stage still a taboo? Why is it that when a play has a realistic depiction of sex it becomes a huge issue? Why are we as theater artists still afraid to approach this in our work? Those were some of the questions I asked myself about the work I was doing, so I decided to explore the taboo of sex on stage in the work I was creating.
In the summer of 2014, my company, Kid Brooklyn Productions, commissioned a modern adaption of Arthur Schnitzler’s La Ronde called Encounters. I asked nine playwrights to write a scene that explores how we address and see human sex and sexuality on stage. I wanted them to feel like there was nothing off limits, and they went with it. As we were creating Encounters, I considered some of the recent work I have seen on the New York stage and its depiction of the subject.
Let's talk about sex, baby...
As I'm sure has happened to every playwright since the dawn of time, it's quite often that I'm out and about and am introduced to someone who finds out that I'm a playwright, and they ask me, "Oh, what kind of plays do you write?"
It's by no means a bad question, and I understand that it's asked in an effort to get to know the playwright's work, but I have yet to meet a playwright who enjoys being asked that question (if you do, please chime in). Yes, it's an opportunity for self-promotion, but I think that's precisely why it stresses us all out so much.
Usually, in that situation, I stammer a bit about writing plays that have something to do with genderqueerness or gayness or re-imagining familiar stories - all of which is true but, of course, incredibly incomplete - and then I am often asked, "So, are they comedies? Tragedies?" which I also never know how to answer, seeing as the saddest of my material tends to get the biggest laughs.
Under Your Skin: An Interview with Burning Playwright Thomas Bradshaw
Let's talk about the sex scenes. Is it difficult to get actors to perform the fairly graphic sex that's shown on stage in plays like Burning?
It is getting easier now. With my first plays, people were like, “I'm going to have to do what?” Now it's not much of a problem. But before we audition people we say read the script, know that you are going to be fully nude, that all these acts are going to be staged, and if you are uncomfortable with that then we don't want to see you. We make sure their agents go over this with them and make sure they fully understand what's happening. Because, you know, the sex is integral to the storytelling. Burning cannot function without the sex. Peter [the painter] has his big epiphany right after the sex act. Actually, in many of the sex acts the characters are discovering their true selves. It's also that these characters are feeling freedom for the first time. In the case of Peter, he's expressing so much of himself, engaging in this behavior which is taboo in his mind, it's very freeing—too freeing as we see at the end of the day, because it leads him down a destructive road. There's never any moral judgment placed on my characters, but I find it hard to believe how anyone could look at the trajectory of any of my characters and think, “he's promoting that.” Clearly it's not, if you want to lead a happy life do these things.
Playwright Matthew Lopez on His Gay-Themed Play REVERBERATION
Well let's talk about those first few moments, because you made a choice to really pull people in, in a very dramatic way, with a graphic gay sex scene. Were you trying to challenge yourself in addition to challenging the audience?
Well, it is a very tastefully done graphic sex scene. You realize the power the lighting designer has when you stage a sex scene in the theater. The lighting designer is your cameraman and your editor as well. He can really direct your eyes to where you want the audience's eyes to go. When I started to write the play, I knew that the first was going to be post-coital. It was going to take place after a Grindr hookup, and originally it just began with them lying there in bed. Then as I started to delve into the way we tell our story, and the visual vocabulary of the play, I realized that there was no other way [than to show them having sex]. If you fudged it at the beginning, the audience wouldn't trust you for the rest of the play. And the ultimate goal, really, was to make the audience feel like voyeurs. We just had to show it to them, and really put the audience in a mindset of peeping through the windows at these intimate lives. So, I was thinking about how you begin this play about intimacy and voyeurism. It just began to make total sense to begin with sex, because that's the story. It was never meant to jolt the audience. It was never mean to be prurient. It was just supposed to be our way of communicating to the audience that they are going to see everything. The audience gets very silent at the very top of the play, which is very hard to accomplish. To get 500 people in one space make no sound? It's incredible.
Bawdy Bard: How to Find the Sex in Shakespeare
Ah, the words of the eternal Bard: so pure, so true, so saucy.
William Shakespeare, whoever he may have been (Francis Bacon? Christopher Marlowe’s ghost? A roomful of monkeys and typewriters?), is without argument the most recognizable, famous playwright in the English language, and for good reason. His words, rich and dense in their poetry, tickle the academic sensibilities, while his still-relevant portrayals of humanity touch the hearts of readers and audiences alike. And of course when it came to sex jokes, no one could or can write them better.
Oh, what’s that? You don’t remember all the sex in Shakespeare? Well, read on, intrepid scholar, and prepare to have your mine and loins engulf’d in firey epiphany (that line wasn’t Shakespearean, but it could have been).
Shakespeare wrote plays for a diverse audience. His acting company, the Lord Chamberlain’s Men, would perform before the same plays before courts of Queen Elizabeth and James I that they produced in Southwark theatres with convenient whorehouse access. Shakespeare’s plays had to cater to every possible demographic, so he had to write material that everyone could enjoy. Fortunately, he was clever enough to know what any modern-day Hollywood producer could tell you: sex sells.
HOW TO WRITE GOOD SEX SCENES.
BY MIKE LACHER
- - - -
As an acclaimed writer of sexual fiction, I am often asked by readers, fans, and protégés how best to go about writing thrilling and realistic scenes of sexual congress. To them, I offer these simple tips:
Imagine the sexual congress between your characters not as a schoolboy’s sketch but as a Dutch Master’s canvas, full of excruciating detail upon each pert nipple and goosefleshy thigh. Consider, as Vermeer did, how the dewy morning light falls about his ample foreskin or how her rosy loins tremble like a cello string struck by a moistened Frisbee
Use metaphor appropriately
Be not a humble anatomist naming body parts. Be instead a sexual Robert Frost, spinning a cocoon of golden prose around the sexual congress of your characters. Consider the situation and story. For example: “she granted his peach paddlewheeler passage up her mighty Mississip’,” or “their sexual juices swirled within her erlenmeyer flask, yielding a milky precipitate of passion.”
Complement the woman’s beauty
A mistake many first-time sexual fiction writers make is forgetting to remind the reader of the stunning beauty of the woman. Keep the reader engaged with phrases like “she moaned attractively,” “her gorgeous neck craned in ecstasy,” and “he gazed with astonishment upon her painterly labia.”
Don’t be afraid to get graphic
More often than not, sexual congress is not a tidy affair, and the sexual fiction writer should depict it as such, lest the reader begin to doubt that the sexual fiction writer has even participated in sexual congress himself. Make note of the “panoply of splashes about the bedchamber,” the “patina of sweat about his pubis,” and the “musk of coitus hanging like a cumulonimbus cloud above the dampened bed sheets, reeking softly of oregano and speck.”
The late Yogi Berra (He died late last week) has become so ubiquitous in the canon of quotations that no other person is listed as often in Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations, according to the Yogi Berra museum. Below is a list of 15 memorable quotes and 'Yogisms' attributed to the catcher:
1. "So I'm ugly. I never saw anyone hit with his face."
2. "We made too many wrong mistakes."
3. "You can observe a lot just by watching."
4. "If you can’t imitate him, don’t copy him."
5. "When you come to a fork in the road, take it."
6. "It ain’t over ’til it’s over."
7. "I didn’t really say everything I said."
8. "The future ain’t what it used to be."
9. "Pair up in threes."
10. "If the world were perfect, it wouldn’t be."
11. "It’s deja vu all over again."
12. "I usually take a two hour nap from one to four."
13. "In baseball, you don't know nothing."
14. "90 percent of this game is half mental."
15. "It gets late early out here."
This is a book of short stories taken from the things I saw and heard in my childhood in the factory town of Ansonia in southwestern Connecticut. Most of these stories, or as true as I recall them because I witnessed these events many years ago through the eyes of child and are retold to you now with the pen and hindsight of an older man. The only exception is the story Beat Time which is based on the disappearance of Beat poet Lew Welch. Decades before I knew who Welch was, I was told that he had made his from California to New Haven, Connecticut, where was an alcoholic living in a mission. The notion fascinated me and I filed it away but never forgot it.
The collected stories are loosely modeled around Joyce’s novel, Dubliners (I also borrowed from the novels character and place names. Ivy Day, my character in “Local Orphan is Hero” is also the name of chapter in Dubliners, etc.) and like Joyce I wanted to write about my people, the people I knew as a child, the working class in small town America and I wanted to give a complete view of them as well. As a result the stories are about the divorced, Gays, black people, the working poor, the middle class, the lost and the found, the contented and the discontented.
Conversely many of the stories in this book are about starting life over again as a result of suicide (The Hanging Party, Small Town Tragedy, Beat Time) or from a near death experience (Anna Bell Lee and the Charge of the Light Brigade, A Brief Summer)
and natural occurring death. (The Best Laid Plans, The Winter Years, Balanced and Serene)
With the exception of Jesus Loves Shaqunda, in each story there is a rebirth from the death. (Shaqunda is reported as having died of pneumonia in The Winter Years)
Sal, the desperate and depressed divorcee in Things Change, changes his life in Lunch Hour when asks the waitress for a date and she accepts. (Which we learn in Closing Time, the last story in the book) In The Arranged Time, Thisby is given the option of change and whether she takes it or, we don’t know. The death of Greta’s husband in A Matter of Time has led her to the diner and into the waiting arms of the outgoing and loveable Gabe.
Although the book is based on three sets of time (breakfast, lunch and dinner) and the diner is opened in the early morning and closed at night, time stands still inside the Diner. The hour on the big clock on the wall never changes time and much like my memories of that place, everything remains the same.
In 1962, six year old John Tuohy, his two brothers and two sisters entered Connecticut’s foster care system and were promptly split apart. Over the next ten years, John would live in more than ten foster homes, group homes and state schools, from his native Waterbury to Ansonia, New Haven, West Haven, Deep River and Hartford. In the end, a decade later, the state returned him to the same home and the same parents they had taken him from. As tragic as is funny compelling story will make you cry and laugh as you journey with this child to overcome the obstacles of the foster care system and find his dreams.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mary and I in San Diego
John William Tuohy is a writer who lives in Washington DC. He holds an MFA in writing from Lindenwood University. He is the author of numerous non-fiction on the history of organized crime including the ground break biography of bootlegger Roger Tuohy "When Capone's Mob Murdered Touhy" and "Guns and Glamour: A History of Organized Crime in Chicago."
His non-fiction crime short stories have appeared in The New Criminologist, American Mafia and other publications. John won the City of Chicago's Celtic Playfest for his work The Hannigan's of Beverly, and his short story fiction work, Karma Finds Franny Glass, appeared in AdmitTwo Magazine in October of 2008.
His play, Cyberdate.Com, was chosen for a public performance at the Actors Chapel in Manhattan in February of 2007 as part of the groups Reading Series for New York project. In June of 2008, the play won the Virginia Theater of The First Amendment Award for best new play.
Excerpt from my book "No Time to Say Goodbye: Memoirs of a Life in Foster Care.
We located a pay phone and within a few hours, Jack’s parents arrived to take us back to Waterbury. The Circus Boy adventures were over. But I didn’t return to Waterbury right away. I bummed some money from Jack’s parents and headed north to Massachusetts to see what I could see. I suppose that taking off to see the world around me, without any real sense of direction, was not the wisest of actions, but, in reflection, it’s just what young people should do, meandering to a different drumbeat.
I hitchhiked my way up and down the New England coast, restoring myself along the way with the nature that surrounded me. I never denied myself the simple joy of pausing to enjoy the beauty of my beloved New England. Nature teaches, if you are willing to watch and listen. It opens eyes, confirms our existence, and illuminates the mind with the sights and sounds of her treasures. It’s all there. You only have to want to see it. And if you want to see it, you will. And everything we see in nature is a treasure because nature, as Aristotle said, does nothing uselessly, and all art is but imitation of nature. So I found Picasso in the jaw-dropping colors of the early autumn and Monet in the deep blues and reds of summer. I saw them there as clearly as I have ever seen anything in my life.
Along the way, I took a country side road because it looked interesting, even if it was going in the wrong direction. I have never once regretted it. This particular side road, as fate should have it, took me to Walden Pond, where I communed with my old and trusted friend Thoreau, and from there I wandered into Concord and ate an apple at Emerson’s graveside, then returned to Waterbury with the intention of living, as the great man said, with meaningful life goals, and embracing every second of the present moment.
At the end of my field trip across New England that summer, I hitchhiked to York Beach, Maine where I had been so many times as a child with Helen and Walter and Denny.
A narrow, rocky peninsula there is called Nubble Point. At its end, a picture-perfect lighthouse sits on a small island several hundred feet off the coastline. I had spent a lot of time at Nubble Point, climbing around the cliff and the enormous weather-beaten rocks that slope gently down towards the water’s edge. It was almost September when I got there, the end of the beach season. The tourists were gone and the tiny village was preparing to close up for the winter and so I had the whole of Nubble Point to myself.
I sat on a boulder at cliffside that gave me a perfect view of York Beach and the lighthouse. I looked out over the beauty of the Maine coast, took in the familiar smell of sea salt, and wrapped myself in the gentle warmth of a New England summer and the relaxing rhythm of the waves on the rocks.
Taking in all that beauty and adding it to the indescribable moments of joy in my life confirmed for me that despite it all, God was present in my life. And he was a gentle God as well. He is not an angry, maladjusted old man sitting up on a cloud, who throws plagues down on us when the mood strikes him. Nor is he an impersonal God, distant and indifferent. He is there with us in the arena of daily life, and to find him you just have to look for him.
And that’s what I looked up into the clear blue sky and said. “So, God! How you doin’, buddy? Been a while, huh?” He answered with an enormous wave that leapt up from the waters and covered the rocks, missing me by inches.
I threw my head back and roared and yelled over the ocean noise, “Do it again!” and he did, and I laughed hard and lifted my eyes to the heavens and said, “Good to see you again.”
And that’s how I spent my day, God and I, sitting on a big rock on the ocean’s edge, getting soaked by waves and laughing. It was another good day to be thankful for and to remember fondly on those days when life wasn’t very good.
I wrote this bill of rights for foster children several years ago. There many other versions written by other people and almost all of them are worth trying. It's your county. What's happening in foster care in America is being carried out with your money and in your name. You have a right to do something about it.
THE NATIONAL FOSTER CHILDREN’S BILL OF RIGHTS
As a child, a ward of the government and as an American citizen, you are protected by the people of the United States of America, by our laws, by our courts and by our government.
You should be aware that you have specific rights while you are in foster care. Those rights are as follows:
-You have the right to be treated with dignity and respect and to live in dignity and self-respect.
- No one has the right to harm you, to strike you or to commit physical violence upon you. If anyone harms you, strikes you or commits physical violence upon you, you have a right to discuss this abuse with your caseworker, your foster care provider, teachers or police officers. You cannot and will not be punished or harmed further for discussing the abuse with these people.
-You have the right to live in a foster home that is safe, comfortable and healthy.
-You have a right to practice your religion, no matter what that religion might be. You also have a right not to be forced to practice any religion.
-You have the right to attend all court hearings that concern you.
-You have the right to be represented in court by an Attorney. The government will pay the attorney to represent you.
-You have a right to meet with your caseworker at least once a month.
-The information you share with your casework about your placement is confidential. That is, your caseworker is forbidden by law to discuss your conversations beyond people with a need to know.
-You have a right to visit your family. That right cannot not be taken from you and it is illegal to threaten you with taking that right from you.
-You have the right to be placed with a relative as an alternative to foster home care.
-You have a right to live with your siblings, meaning your brothers and sisters.
-You have the right to live in a foster home as opposed to a group home.
-You have a right to participate in any plan for your benefit and future.
-You have the right to be provided with adequate and nourishing food, shelter and clothing.
-You have a right to your own belongings. You have a right to keep any money you have earned or been given.
-You cannot be forced to take medication that has not been prescribed by a doctor and that has the prior approval of your caseworker.
-You have the right to receive confidential phone calls and to have your mail come to you unopened.
-At the proper age, you have the right to participate in an Independent Living Skills Program.
-You have the right to file a complaint about the type of care you are receiving from your caregivers or your caseworker.
-You have the right to prompt medical treatment.
-You have the right to speak to a counselor or therapist if you feel the need.
-You cannot be taken out of foster care without a hearing before the proper authorities.
Effects on Children Living In Poverty
By McDonough Volunteers
The Voice will feature regular entries and submissions in an effort to enable local nonprofits, charities and volunteers to share their goings-on. While begun by the local Big Brothers Big Sisters organization and its volunteers, entries on this ...
In 2013, Clinical Psychological Science Journal, authors Gary Evans and Rochelle Cassells outline the extensive and devastating impact of childhood poverty. They find that children who experience poverty before the age of 9 are at higher risk of developing behavioral disorders, greater morbidity for chronic disease, and even premature death.
“No one, no matter where he or she stands in the political spectrum, should ignore the tragedy of young children who will never realize their potential because they never had a chance.” Children who grow up in poverty are more prone to developing “learned helplessness” behaviors, factors that could underpin the educational achievement gaps between high-income and low-income groups. Evans and Cassells find that the more time a child spends in poverty from birth to age 9, the greater the negative impact on physical and mental health in adolescence and early adulthood. Children who grow up in poverty are at heightened risk for “externalizing” disorders such as behavior issues, conduct disorders, and ADHD. Poverty has no discernible impact on “internalizing” disorders like anxiety and depression. These trends held regardless of adult income levels, indicating that eh effects of early childhood poverty are long-lasting and not simply corrected by better financial security later in life. As approximately 1 in 4 American children currently live in poverty, the collective impact of this phenomenon will be inescapable for decades to come. The Chicago Tribune made an article called, “30 Years Later, So Much Endures”, which expands on the issue.
Photographs I’ve taken
We don't go down to see the monuments on the National Mall very much, even though I live only a few miles away from all of them. But one night last July we went down for a ride and even though I don't care much fro night photography, we took a few shots of the Jefferson and a new statue, near the Jefferson, George Mason, a low key but central figure in the establishment of our Republic
CHILDHOOD POVERTY IS HAPPENING EVERYWHERE IN AMERICAN, WE'RE BETTER THAN THIS.....YOU AND ME....WE'RE BETTER THAN THIS AND OUR COUNTRY IS BETTER THAN THIS......LET'S GET THIS CONVERSATION GOING ACROSS AMERICA AND DO SOMETHING TO END POVERTY IN AMERICA NOW
Sculpture this and Sculpture that
DON'T YOU JUST LOVE POP ART?
DON’T WORRY-BE HAPPY
Psychologist reveals the science behind random acts of kindness - and how we can ALL benefit
BY ZAHRA MULROY
You're standing in a queue at a coffee shop, waiting to be served that all-important first caffeine hit of the day.
The person in front of you is struggling to get enough change together to pay for their order and they can't pay on card.
What would you do?
• Stand there tapping your foot, waiting for that person to shuffle off, embarrassed by the delay they'd caused and the coffee gone to waste?
• Or would you step in with a random act of kindness, and offer to pay for the coffee?
If the latter, not only would you most likely be making their day, but you'd also be making yours - and potentially creating a 'virtuous circle' from which many people may benefit.
Random acts of kindness - or altruism - have far-reaching benefits.
Apart from making you feel pretty good, your act of kindness could have a far reach
But what constitutes one? And are some people more wired to do them than others?
London-based chartered psychologist Dr George Fieldman, an altruism expert, has explained the science and benefits for society behind random acts of kindness.
1. What's the simplest definition of altruism?
Dr Fieldman explains: "Altruism is doing something for somebody else at a cost to yourself."
There are two types of altruism, which depend on your motivation.
• Reciprocal altruism is when you hope to get something out of your act of kindness for yourself.
• Kin altruism is an act typically for someone in your circle, where you don't expect to get anything back in return.
2. What drives people to acts of altruism, and in particular, random acts of kindness?
According to Dr Fieldman, this may depend on what a person has experienced previously.
"Mean and hard-bitten people are less likely to engage in random acts of kindness.
"But if life has treated us properly, we feel more inclined to help others without expecting anything in return."
3. What are the psychological benefits of doing these acts?
Dr Fieldman points out a difference between how we make ourselves feel good.
"If you eat a bowl of ice-cream or go to the cinema, the good feeling jumps, peaks then crashes."
"An act of kindness however endures better, and mean people tend to feel better about themselves."
4. What is the wider impact on society?
It's not just us the people directly involved in the act if kindness who feel the benefits.
Dr Fieldman continues: "A good deed creates a 'virtuous circle', where one good deed may lead to another.
"This means there are knock-on effects for civilisation."
GOOD WORDS TO HAVE………………..
Holophrasm: (HOL-uh-fraz-um) 1. A one-word sentence, for example, “Go.” 2. A complex idea conveyed in a single word, for example, “Howdy” for “How do you do?” From Greek holos (whole) + phrasis (speech).
HERE'S SOME NICE ART FOR YOU TO LOOK AT....ENJOY!
I LOVE BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOS
A contestant at an archery match in the Forest of Arden. Capra
WHY THE WORLD NEEDS EDITORS.....................
THE ART OF PULP
THE ART OF WAR...............................
People taking pictures of people:
I'm an amateur photographer, I travel a lot so some years ago and I noticed that everywhere I went there was someone taking a photo of someone else. It's part of the human condition and I think it’s fun so I started snapping pictures of people taking pictures.
She Stoops to Conquer is a comedy by Anglo-Irish author Oliver Goldsmith that was first performed in London in 1773. The play is a favorite for study by English literature and theatre classes in Britain and the United States. It is one of the few plays from the 18th century to have an enduring appeal, and is still regularly performed today. It has been adapted into a film several times.
THE GREAT HUNGER. WORDS FROM THE IRISH FAMINE
"No vegetable ever effected the same amount of influence upon the physical, moral, social and political condition of a country as the potato exercised over Ireland” Tables of Death 1851
"Only a handful of potatoes are left and they were so small that it took twelve of them to weigh four and a half ounces the weight of an average, edible tuber but even these were poor remnants of little value, being soft and watery" Irish Farmer
"Where no disease was apparent, a few days ago… all is now black" Irish Newspaper
"The failure this year is universal, for miles a person may proceed in any direction without perceiving an exception to the awful destruction" Irish Newspaper
The disease appears to be of the most malignant character, the leaves and stalks appear to be tainted as if with a corroding mildew or as if vitriol or some caustic material had been thrown on them" Irish Newspaper
"Fearful progress of the disease in cork, Mayo and Sligo, the stench from the fields was intolerable, the odor from decaying flesh could not be more offensive" Irish Newspaper
“...that within the last three days the blight has committed dreadful ravages and is now so decided that we can no longer flatter ourselves with even the chance of escape, it is north south east and west of us" Irish Newspaper
"On the 27th of last month I passed from Cork to Dublin and this doomed plant bloomed in all the luxuriance of an abundant harvest. Returning on the 3rd instant (the following month) I beheld with sorrow one wide waste of putrefying vegetation. In many places the wretched people were seated on the fences of their decaying gardens, wringing their hands and wailing bitterly the destruction that had left them foodless" Fr. Theobald Matthers
"God have mercy on us, there will be nothing left but for us to lie down and die" Irish Woman
"If the English desert us now, God. .in his glory ..they'll never see" Irish Farmer
"I swear by the broken heart my mother died of, the hand of God is in this. Its a curse that has fallen on the land" Irish Farmer
"Its over there in America I'd be now, only for the pig. .the landlord took from me for his rent. .the passage money was in that pig.. but its the landlord always has the bailiff on his side" Irish Farmer
"A widow with two children who for a week had eaten nothing but cabbage...and then nothing...save water...famine was written in the faces of this women...and her children" American Reporter, Galway.
"In a very short time, there was nothing but stillness, a mournful silence in the villages, in the cottages grim poverty and emaciated faces.. the tinkers.. fled to the cities, the musicians ..disappeared and.. never to return.
Many of the residents too made their escape at once, finding employment or early graves elsewhere.. there were no more friendly meetings at the neighbors houses in the afternoons, no gatherings on the hillsides on Sundays, no song no merry laugh of the maidens, not only were the human beings silent and lonely, but the brute creation also, for not even he bark of a dog or the crowing of a cock was to be heard.." Hugh Dorian, Donegal
"Anybody's house you come into, talk is all of misery and starvation, there is no fun at all among them now.. their natural vivacity and lightheartedness has been starved out of them" English Traveller
"There, amidst the chilling damp of a dismal hovel see you famine stricken fellow creature, see him extended on his scanty bed of rotten straw, see his once manly frame, that labor had strengthened with vigor, shrink to a skeleton, see his once ruddy complexion, the gift of temperance, changed by hunger and concealment disease to a sallow ghastly hue.
See him extend his yellow withering arm for assistance; hear how he cries out in agony for food....for since yesterday he has not even moistened his lips! Fr. Theobald Mattew
"In the good years the beggars shared the farmers potatoes and warmed themselves at his blazing turf fires...there are many differences between the English and the Irish and one of the most marked is the difference in their attitude towards beggars.
The English regard the beggars as being, if not exactly criminals, then close to the criminal class. The Irish, on the contrary, regard their relief as a sacred duty that kindly sympathy enabled these poor outcasts to exist but now all was changed and the wolf was at the farmers door, there was absolutely nothing to give away"Landlords Daughter
"Sure this land is full of barley, wheat’s and oats. The English have only to distribute it!" Irish Farmer
"It could hardly be possible to conceive; to see the faceless arms grasping one part of a loaf, whilst the fingers bone handled forks dug into the other, to supply the mouth. Such mouths too! With an eagerness as if the bread were stolen, the thief starving and the steps of the owner heard; was a picture, I think neither of us will easily forget" Rev. S. Godolphin Osbourbe
"The culminating point of mans physical degradation seems to have been reached in Eris.. the population last year was computed at about 28,000..there is left a miserable remnant of little more then 20,000 of whom 10,000 at least, are strictly speaking within forty eight hours journey of the metropolis of the world living, or rather starving upon turnip toes, sand eels and seaweed, a diet which no one in England would consider fit for the meanest animal which he keeps" James H. Tuke report to the Quakers
"It didn't matter who you were related to, your friend was who ever would give you a bite to put in your mouth. Sports and pastimes disappeared. Poetry, music and dancing stopped, they lost and forgot them all….the famine killed everything" Irish Farmer
"Food became both a dream and an obsession, and the scarcer it became the more degrading and revolting were the alternatives left to those trying to survive. In county down, a beggar women and her two children went to the home of a comfortable farmer asking for alms.When they approached the doorstep, they saw the pigs in the style eating food. Before the mother could stop them, or feel that she wanted to or had a right to, the children ran over to the trough and, like pigs themselves, gobbled up what the pigs had not yet eaten" Paddy's Lament
" A man in Mayo, near Balla, was forced to leave his wife at home and go out and beg. A few days later some of the neighbors went to the hovel of the feeble old women and found her lying on a litter of straw in a corner, with the flesh of her shriveled arms and face mangled and eaten by the rats. She died a short time afterwards" Paddy's Lament
"When it became a matter of eating or being eaten by the dogs and rats, the people killed, skinned and ate the dogs and the rats" Paddy's Lament
"If you take hold of the loose skin within the elbow and lift the arm by it, it comes away in a large thin fold, as though you had lifted one side of a long narrow bag, in which some loose bones had been placed" Quaker Relief Worker
"The full meal...kills them instantly" Quaker Relief worker
"Here is the way it is with all of them (Irish children) their legs swing and rock like the legs of a doll. They have the smell of mice…..there is not a Child you saw could live a month...everyone of them is in famine fever, a fever so sticking that it never leaves them" Physicians Report Ireland
"...that the government had pursued a wise policy in not interfering with the supply of food to Ireland in anyway which could compete with the efforts of private traders. There must be no interference with the natural course of trade" Lord Labouchere, Irish Secretary, March 22,1847 speaking before the Parliament in answer to private relief committees offering to send free food into Ireland.
"A thirteenth century famine affecting a nineteenth century population" Lord John Russell, 1846
"Large numbers had some variety of fever along with dysentery, and often scurvy or famine dropsy as well, and so did not die of one disease but from a combination of causes" Sir William MacArthur M.D.
" (the mucus membrane of the rectum) literally honeycombed by an innumerable number of ulcers many of them very minute, and a few as large as a four penny piece, and so deep in some instances as to have completely laid bare the serious covering of the bowl" Post mortem examination of Irish dysentery victims
" Whole families lie together on the damp floor, devoured by fever, without a human being to wet their burning lips or raise their languid heads; the husband dies by the side of the wife, and she knows not that he is beyond the reach of earthly suffering, the same rag covers the festering remains of mortality and the skeleton forms of the living...rats devour the corpse and there is not energy among the living to scare them away from their horrid banquet; fathers bury their children without a sigh and cover them in shallow graves.....without food or fuel, bed or bedding, whole families are shut up in naked hovels, dropping one by one into the arms of death" Cork Examiner, 1847
"I have visited the wasted remnants of the once noble red man on his reservations grounds in north America and explored English Traveler, 1847
"My hand still trembles while I write. The scenes of human misery and degradation we witnessed still haunt my imagination, with the vividness and power of some horrid and tyrannous delusion rather then the features of a sober reality.
We entered a cabin, stretched in one dark corner scarcely visible from the smoke and rags that covered them, were three children huddled together, lying there because they were too weak to rise, pale and ghastly, their little limbs.
On removing a portion of the filthy covering ..perfectly emaciated, eyes sunk, voices gone, and evidently in the last stages of actual starvation. Crouched over the turf embers was another form, wild and all but naked, scarcely human in appearance.
It stirred not noticed us. On some straw, sodden upon the ground, moaning piteously, was a shriveled old women us to give her something….barring her limbs partly, to show how the skin hung loose from the bones..." William Bennett, Letters from Ireland 1847
"I walked back to Kilkenny from Callen in the evening, without any fear of robbery in a country where half the people are starving ..a traveler is in less danger on the highways of Ireland then in any other part of the British dominions" Henry Ingles
" Sometimes you might see a half naked poor women holding a child to her breast with one hand, while she, the famishing mother, is endeavoring to break stones with the other, in order to earn the price of a quart of meal" Letter to the Tipperary Vindicator
"We truly learned the meaning of the word "ukrosh" (hunger) ...some of the scenes have retained their grasps upon the imagination day and night. Such a state of things as has long existed in Ireland would not have been suffered by England in any foreign country, without the pouring forth of its missionaries. Such abandonment of duty and responsibility would not have been endured in England. I have elsewhere written, that if the animals had been anywhere allowed to live and die off in the manner of these poor people, the nation would have been up in arms against the owner of that estate" William Bennett
" (In the Irish Children) ...paleness was not that of a common sickness. There was no sallow tinge to it. They did not look as if newly raised from the grave and to life before the blood had begun to fill their vain anew, but as if they had just been thawed out of the ice, in which they had been imbedded until their blood had turned to water" Visitor to Ireland.
Carthy swallowed a little warm milk and died"Skibbereen resident, 1847
"At Glengariff, the Roman Catholic chapel is turned into a place for making coffins...I entered...and said to one of the carpenters "what are you making boys?".." " coffins and wheelbarrows sir " Rev.F.F Trench 1847.
"A hearse piled with coffins, or rather undressed boards, slightly nailed together, passed through the streets, unaccompanied by a single human being, save the driver of the vehicle" County Cork 1847
" Coffins are to be seen in every direction, so that the number of dead is now gone beyond possibility..." Galway 1847
"On Wednesday the body of a poor women was found dead in a field adjoining the town of Castlebar...a child belonging to the deceased had piled some stones around the body to protect it from the dogs and rats" From a letter, May 12th,1847
Excerpt from my book “On the Waterfront: The Making of a Great American Film”
THE FILM AS A MORAL MESSAGE
"Art, like morality, consists in drawing a line somewhere." Gilbert Chesterton
Although Kazan was not a particularly religious man in his personnel life, he understood the power of religious imagery, specifically Roman Catholic imagery; desperate souls, an evil betrayal of the moral messenger and then ingeniously (or self-servingly) inverted the act of betrayal into a near saintly form of enlightenment.
Budd Schulberg, who was Jewish and not Catholic, also understood the Catholic churches intrinsic power of appeal to morality, conscience and justice. As a result, almost every scene shot by Kazan and every bit of dialogue written by Schulberg, happens only to contribute to Terry Malloy’s transformation from complicit bystander to active witness against evil. The films spiritual morality causes Brando’s characters arch, his dramatic transformation. At the same time, the arch for the other characters is equally impressive and tied to Brando’s arch. Johnny Friendly is reduced from unquestioned head of the union and the local mob to a common street thug, Charlie Malloy goes from smug mob accountant to a noble soul who loses his life to save the life of his brother. Like Terry Malloy’s character, Father Barry’s character also changes and develops as the film progresses, transforming from a Priest sheltered away in his church to a man of the street willing to fight for what he believes in.
The priest’s transformation comes directly after Joey Doyle is pushed to his death, The martyrdom scene Father Barry kneels over his dead body, whispering the Last Rites of the Church, Edie is sobbing over her brother. Kazan and Schulberg handle the death of Joey Doyle in a realistic fashion. Pop Doyle is stoic over his son’s death and mutters “Kept telling him. Don't say nothin'. Keep quiet. You'll live longer.” At the same time, his daughter, Edie is distraught. Kazan shows that people, even in the same families, have different reactions to death. During the scene, Edie chastises the priest for hiding in his church while his flock suffers. In the scene that follows, the next morning Edie apologizes to Father Barry for his outspokenness. Barry response by asking if she thinks that he is a freeloader looking for an easy duty. When she does not answer, he answers the question himself. He says that he had thought about what she said and that she was right, he would never what he could to right the wrongs on the waterfront unless he left the rectory and found out what the situation is.
Thereafter Father Barry then extends the parameters of his parish to the waterfront but he never loses site of his primary mission, to spread the word of God and advocating peaceful resistance to the evil on the docks. When Terry waits in a bar room with a loaded pistol to kill Johnny Friendly, Father Barry disarms him and advocates peaceful resistance by telling the truth.
Father Barry condemns the longshoremen to account for their inaction in the face of evil (Johnny Friendly) which he considers a sin, thus elevating Joey Doyle and Kayo Duggan to the realm of enlightenment since they have both died for the sins of the longshoremen
Kazan follows the scripts strong spiritual themes with equally strong religious imagery in Doyle and Duggan’s deaths scenes. Edie cradles Joey’s corpse as Madonna cradled Jesus’ body, Father Barry rises out of the cargo hold with Dugan’s body as if ascending to heaven, and Charlie’s corpse hangs by a hook, all of which are visual references to Christ’s body on the cross.
More religion, specifically Christian religion, is laid on thickly throughout the film, especially from the “Christ is in the shapeup" speech given by Father Barry in the cargo hold.
“Christ is always with you,” Father Barry tells the dockworkers
“He’s in the hatch, he’s in the union halls”
In the cargo hold scene Johnny Friendly and his men are positioned high above the hold, above Father Barry and above the longshoremen, his position of power on the docks has not changed.
Intentional or not, throughout the film the Longshoremen wear their
metallic loading hooks swung over their shoulders, the pointed hook pressing into their chests, reminiscent of Johnny Friendly’s hook into their unions. The loading hooks are used wonderfully again in the film’s final scene when the now Christ like figure of Terry Malloy, beaten and bleeding from the head, carries his hook, cross like, as he leads his new flock, the longshoremen, back to work.
Following the religious themes of the film, the story stresses the power of faith, intangible faith. Edie and Father Barry, who rise Terry up from the docks and open his conscious, are both people of faith who want nothing more than to do the right thing and eventually that faith in doing the right thing validates their values and principles. Edie’s faith transforms Terry’s faith who eventually transforms his Brother Charlie’s faith. As a result, the characters grow, Brando’s Terry Malloy, transforms before the viewer’s eyes.
Opposing them are the corrupt union officials and mobsters whose only faith is in worldly good, terror and fear.
The hot air steam seeping up through the sewers and creates a misty visual of an otherworldly atmosphere. The steam is most effective in the scene where Terry confesses to Father Barry in the park. The steam swirls around them, almost engulfing them. It is interesting to note that Terry’s confession takes place outside of the church. Even though Terry wants to talk to Father Barry inside the church, (The church used in the film is the towering Gothic Revival, Our Lady of Grace Roman Catholic Church. Directly across the street is the Willow Avenue Park, called Church Park by the locals, where Terry and Barry speak.) the machinations of the plot draw them outside to the waterfront. The location shades the scene Kazan is telling the audience that Terry’s confession is not religious. Instead of hiding in a confessional, the waterfront becomes a living part of the film. The scene also carries through with the message that throughout the film, Father Barry never seems to take to Terry. He obviously does not like him. He is never Terry’s father- confessor and repeatedly indicates to Terry that merely talking about his sins on the waterfront will not absolve his sins, only action will set him free, fitting into the Jesuit maxim seen in the real life Father Corridan’s actions, through action faith, through faith, action. In Waterfront, Father Barry is not a Catholic guide to Terry but a mentor of the soul. However, at times, Father Barry’s sermonizing to Terry seems sanctimonious because the underlying moral message of the film makes Barry’s religious parallels unnecessary to Terry and the audience. By mid-film, the viewer already recognizes the films philosophical stance; that the life of even an ordinary man can become a living act of moral change. (Johnny Friendly, unfortunately for Terry, also realizes this)
Through his contacts with the forces of light (Edie, Pop Doyle, Father Barry) Terry listens to his conscience and reconsiders his life and decides to be the man he thinks he is but it took the love of Edie Doyle and the persuasion of a Father Barry to show Terry how low he has fallen. He comes to understand what is going on around him, and understands how he has been an unwitting ploy in Joey Doyle's death.
Through a process of reflection, Terry experiences a Lenten journey of repentance and conversion, of sort. He follows his conscience and is prepared to suffer his decision to do the right thing. His is a journey from darkness to light, from lies to truth. His testimony before the waterfront commission and telling Edie about his role in her brother’s death, he articulates his repentance for his part in the waterfront conspiracy. The truth sets him free. Just as the truth is the primary catalyst for Father Barry and Edie’s actions and in the end, Terry Malloy stands ready to die for the truth.
Terry’s journey to find the truth changes not only himself but also the community of the waterfront, fitting into the Catholic-Jesuit social action movement of the times, which placed the community at the center of all moral action.
This admirable principle is neatly corrupted by Kazan and Schulberg; informing is the correct moral choice because informing (In this specific case) is done for the good of the community.
The film also stresses that power; the tool of the unsaved in this case, corrupts. Virtually every one in the film who has any power at all is morally bankrupt except Father Barry whose power is moral and has not corrupted him because it has little effect in the real world of the waterfront. Johnny Friendly is the ultimate definition of corrupt power. There is not a single decision he makes in the film that does not establish his power or further it. Even stuffing $50 down Terry’s t-shirt obligates Terry to repay the favor later.
In Kazan’s view of power, there are no friendships. Mr. Big turns on Johnny Friendly as soon as he is exposed by the Waterfront Crime Commission, Friendly kills Charlie Malloy, even though he has known him for decades.
Because Kazan made the films themes so clear, it becomes equally clear to the audience and Brando’s Terry Malloy, that forcing him to a take a dive in the contender fight establishes his minimal importance in the mob. To the mob, Terry’s brother and Johnny Friendly, the man who took him to ball games as child, are indifferent to Terry’s personal emotional needs. In fact, they are more than willing to subordinate his interests to their own.
Failure and Terry’s sense of unfulfilled life, fueled by resentment, give the character psychological depth. In the taxi-cab scene Terry complains to his brother that he 'could've been a contender' and could have had class, had not Charley and Johnny Friendly ended his chances of a title shot by forcing him to throw fights for 'the short-end money'. Later, on the roof, the Crime Commission investigator reminds Terry of his lost boxing career and the viewer senses how deeply the betrayal affected him when Terry breaks the code of Deaf and Dumb and explains that he was forced to throw the fight.
Working within the confines of the script, Schulberg and Brando created a sympathetic protagonist in Terry Malloy. Life happens to him, he is a little man with no control or seemingly no care over his ambivalence and powerlessness.
Terry Malloy is not naturally mean, like Johnny Friendly, or hardened like Charlie Malloy. His participation in Joey's death was unintentional as opposed to Charlie and Johnny Friendly’s participation, while marginal, was still direct. As a result, the character of Charlie Malloy while in the end is actual quite noble, he is not as sympathetic as Terry’s. As much as anyone else, Terry is a victim of the mob. Unlike Johnny Friendly, his flaws are human, forgivable.
Terry is a man with troubles that are eating away at him. He is boiling just below the surface. Several times in the film, he picks fights with those around him. He is sarcastic to the police, the crime investigators, Father Barry, the longshoremen, the bartender where he takes Edie for a drink.
The film remains a powerful film because its subtext is the revelation of character through psychological motivation. What makes Brando’s performance so brilliant is that to take an eye off him for even a second is to miss a vital telling sign. Through a gamut of physical acts, most of them almost unnoticeable Brando presents a Terry Malloy who is a brooding inarticulate confused little man who is seething, just under the surface, with a massive bundle of contradictory emotions who slowly understands that his actions have definitive results. His roof top racing pigeons, located in the heaven like retreat above the docks are his only outlet for devotion, love and gentleness. In the scene with the pigeons, Terry mentions their loyalty to their mates a quality he admires and needs because he lacks it in his own life. In his reality, even his brother has sold him “For the short money” Later in the same scene he mentions that the pigeons are nervous because a hawk is in the area and that the city is filled with them. The words echo his life and the danger that surround him from the Johnny Friendly gang. The film is filled with references to birds, pigeons, canaries, birdseed, hawks and stoolies with the implication that everyone on the waterfront are little more than pigeons. However, it is Brando’s physical portrayal of Terry Malloy is the key for the audiences understanding of Terry Malloy character, he shuffles his feet and looks away from whomever he’s speaking to, (except his brother) his hands nervously rub the back of his neck and when he is adamant or hurt, he shoves them into his pockets.
Brando’s use of mannerisms are complete throughout the role, leaving the audience to guess what his true emotions are, sometimes too surprising results, such as playing with a piece of lint when his brother pulls a pistol on him in the cab or toying with his zipper when he learns that Joey Doyle was killed.
Kazan emphasizes on the gamut of Terry’s emotions by consistently focusing the camera’s attention on Brando’s face, Brando’s narrowing eyes narrow or the slackness to his face when faced with a truthful reality or his hesitant smiles for Johnny Friendly and Edie.
Brando became Terry Malloy. Kazan said, “We drove in from New York to Hoboken every day together when we were shooting On the Waterfront. We’d talk and laugh on the way to work, but as soon as we arrived, he would transform himself into Terry. The intimacy and nuance that he brought to the role were breathtaking.” 46
As the film progresses, Brando’s Terry Malloy physically changes before the camera, an indication that his priorities have changed and signals to the audience that he now completely understands that actions have results. Slowly he faces the complexities of the decisions before him, spurred on by his complete understanding of his role in Joey Doyle’s death, his love for Edie and her feelings for him, the barrage of guilt from Father Barry and his own brother’s murder.
Brando has Malloy communicate his confusion in his new, threatening surrounding, all in the neighborhood he grew up in, by stressing his inarticulateness and an array of nervous, evasive gestures.
Terry’s inability to look a person in the eyes is countered by Johnny Friendly’s determination to stare into the eyes from only inches away or his henchmen, in solid colored hats and overcoats staring blankly into the speaker. Brando’s Malloy is one of them and he is not. When John Friendly slaps around the bookie named Skins for cheating him out of $50, he gives the money to Terry, sticking it in his turtleneck collar. Brando’s Terry winces when the money is shoved into shirt, he is already unhappy with his role in Johnny Friendly’s world. The wince was not scripted but because of it, within seconds we have a better understanding of Terry Malloy’s character. What is lost in the scene is the fact that the $50 stuffed in Terry shirt was a substantial amount of money in 1953. In the film, the rooftop is Terry’s sanctuary, here we see him very relaxed, lying down on the roofs edge, the pressure from the outside world, always the factor that drives Terry to the roof, are gone. On the roof he’s far away from the docks and Johnny Friendly’s bar (The tavern used in the film still stands and operates as an upscale saloon) he’s in the heavenly clouds, much the same way that we assume Joey Doyle, who kept racing pigeons and finally dies while being thrown from the roof, sought his sanctuary on the roof. From the roof tops the audience sees the Hudson River, shown so often in the film, is a border, an edge that to the longshoremen world where corrupt local Union runs everything. The Empire State Building, the tallest building in the world 1954, looms in the distance to represent the dreams of a better, richer life, yet it is only occasionally glimpsed in the fog over the weather beaten gray rooftops of a poverty stricken waterfront.
Fitting into the roof top motif is the use of pigeons that play a reoccurring role in the film. A the films start, Terry is able to lure Joey Doyle onto the roof by returning one of his pigeons who has gone astray, in much the same way, Joey has gone astray in his decision to testify against the flock. The pigeons are copped, unable to fly because they have been trained not to fly, not dissimilar to Terry’s predicament. He is stuck on the waterfront, a flunky to his brother and John Friendly. The imagery of Terry inside the cage when he tends the birds shows his affinity with the animals. Terry’s excessive care for the birds is his only outlet for affection. There is also, of course, the negative connotation, stool pigeon, an informer.
Finally, the transformation is complete when Terry Malloy’s stands
up to Johnny Friendly on the docks, wearing Joey Doyle’s jack, an indication of how deeply the death affected him, the character stands tall and confident, swaggering even. He looks around the pier openly, calmly, without his fear or shyness so clearly established in the opening of the film. Now he chews gum with a cocky, slow steadiness, his speech is clear the whining mumbling voice of the early Terry Malloy is vanished.
HERE IS AN EXCEPT FROM MY BOOK "THE BOOK OF AMERICAN-JEWISH GANGSTERS"
(Max Zellner is a pen name, it was my grandfather's born name. During World War 1 he changed it to the less German sounding Paul Selner)
Epstein, Joe: AKA Joey Ep. Born 1902. Lived at the Saint Claire Hotel, Chicago and 162 East Ohio Street, Chicago. An accountant/Book keeper for the Mob for many decades, his essential job was to launder cash for the Outfit. He was a business partner of Lenny Patrick of the so-called “Jewish arm” of the mob that once operated in the Rogers Park section. He was also romantically involved with Bugsy Siegel’s girlfriend Virginia Hill and kept her supplied with cash for decades.
Hill, a foul-mouthed, tough-talking product of the poverty, had arrived in Chicago from rural Bessemer Alabama at age 17 in 1933 to work at the Century of Progress Exhibition. She tried a variety of jobs, waitressing, short order cook, (including a stint as a shimmy dancer for $20 a week, very good money at the time) but finally became a street walker.
Hill was a beautiful young women and was soon taken in by the Fischetti brothers and more or less, adopted by Jake Guzak and his bisexual wife, who offered to put her in charge of several brothels they still owned, but Virginia turned them down. She said she had higher aspirations. The Fischettis gave her a job as a waitress/ prostitute at their casino, the Colony Club. Other owners in the club included Nick Circella (alias Nick Dean) who was later implicated in the million-dollar movie-extortion Bioff case. Circella’s brother August Circella, ran the club.
August had run a series of casinos across Chicago including the Gold Coast Lounge, on North Rush Street. In later years, August would grow rich when he purchased the patent rights for a window unit air conditioner. It was here that she met the bespectacled and withdrawn Joey Ep, a man who barely spoke to those around him. Nevertheless, he was dependable and honest, by mob standards, and had been Guzik’s understudy since 1930 and would one day be his second-in-command.
Epp ran the outfit's racetracks with such authority the newspapers called him Illinois' unofficial racetrack commissioner. And while Epstein was well read, some said an intellectual, he loved to party and he was fascinated by the lowlife around him. He fell head over heels in love with Virginia Hill, and put her on the payroll as his mistress.
But it was a working relationship as well. Epstein put Virginia to work as a courier, bringing suitcases full of the mob's dirty money from Chicago, Kansas City, Cleveland and Los Angeles to syndicate owned and run banks in Cuba, Mexico, the Dominican Republic, France and Switzerland. There, the money was laundered, usually at a price of ten cents on a dollar and then invested in legitimate business from which the hoods could draw a salary.
The second part of the plan called for Virginia to get in touch with Bugsy Siegel, which she did, having met, and romanced him, several times in the past. Like Joey Epp before him, Bugsy Siegel fell head over heels in love with Virginia. He called her his "Flamingo" and drenched her in jewelry, furs and gowns.
When the Gangster Chronicles came on television in the late 1970's, a relative of Bugsy Siegel remarked to Meyer Lansky, Siegel's lifelong business partner, that he was considering suing the production company for depicting Bugsy as an uncontrollable killer.
"What are you going to sue them for?" asked Lansky. "In real life he was worse."
Unlike most hoods who dominated gangdom in the 1930's, Siegel was smart and he knew it. He hated the poverty and ignorance of the world he was raised in and detested the illiterate and uncouth men he had to deal with. He wanted more, he wanted to be on the other side. In fact, Siegel wanted to be on the other side, the legitimate side, so badly, that he invested a million dollars in the stock market in 1933, but lost half of it when the market crashed in October. "If I had kept that million," he said, "I'd have been out of the rackets right now."
Siegel knew that if he stayed in New York, nothing would ever change, so he, and not the New York branch of the syndicate as is commonly reported, decided to try his luck out west in Los Angeles. He had been a regular visitor out there since 1933, introducing himself as an independent sportsman, a title that didn't fool anybody.
Of course, Bugsy had other motives. Gangsters always do. He had stabbed another hood in a dispute over a card game, cutting the man in the stomach 20 times to make sure gases would not allow his body to float to the surface, and now the cops wanted to talk to him about that. He had also been named in a scam to fix boxing matches and had ordered the killing of a bookie who had cheated him. When the bookie found out about the death order, he went to the cops and told them everything he knew, so for the time being it was best he went to the West Coast.
Siegel took over the Screen Extras Guild and the Los Angeles Teamsters, which he ran until his death. With control of the Screen Extras Guild, Siegel was able to shake down Warner Brothers Studios for $10,000, with a refusal to provide extras for any of their films. He also shook down his movie star friends for huge loans that he never paid back, and when he came back for another loan, he always got it, because they were, justifiably, terrified of him.
He once bragged to Lansky that he had fleeced the Hollywood crowd out of more than $400,000 within six months of his arrival. He was a one man terrorist campaign.
When Siegel arrived in LA, the number one racing service out west was James Ragen's Continental Press, which serviced thousands of bookies between Chicago to Los Angeles, each of whom paid Ragen between $100 to $1200. The owner, Jimmy Ragen, was a tough, two fisted, Chicago born Irishman, who had punched, stabbed, and shot his way to the top of the heap, without the Mob's help.
The Chicago outfit, then under Nitti, watched the money flood into Regan's office with envy. Nitti, and later Paul Ricca, tried to set up a rival service called Trans-American, with each mob boss across the country running the local outlet, doing whatever they had to do to take Ragen out of business.
In California, Siegel and Mafiosi Jack Dragna were charged with putting Trans-America in business and taking Ragen's Continental Press out of business. Eventually, the Chicago mob settled the entire issue by shooting Ragen as he drove his car down a Chicago street. Ragen survived the shooting, but not the dose of mercury a nurse working for the outfit shot up into his vein a few days later. With Ragen dead, Continental Racing Services was divided up among the various bosses who had helped to build it, and Jack Dragna was named to run the California office. Siegel was shocked. He had risked his life to build the service out west, he had worked on it day and night, at the least he expected to be cut in on perhaps half the franchise.
Instead, all he was got was a visit from Chicago's chief fixer, Murray Humphreys, who told Siegel to fold up Trans-America wire service. They didn't need it anymore. The syndicate owned Continental Press. But Siegel sent Humphreys packing with a message for Paul Ricca... if the Chicago people wanted Siegel to fold up Trans-America in Nevada, Arizona and Southern California, it would cost them $2,000,000 in cash.
Even though the Chicago outfit didn't want Siegel working for them, at the same time, they didn't want him working for New York either. Crazy or not, Siegel was smart, ambitious and ruthless. They had to watch him, so Paul Ricca told Charlie Fischetti, one of his most dependable torpedoes, to send out a spy, and the woman they chose was the same woman Bugsy Siegel came to call his Flamingo, Virginia Hill.
Virginia reported every conversation she had with Siegel back to the Fischetti brothers in Chicago. Still, the boys back in Chicago never trusted Hill, or anyone else for that matter, and when Paul Ricca came to power, he told Johnny Roselli to start an affair with Hill so he could keep tabs on her.
Then, Siegel watched a colorful Los Angeles hood named Tony Cornero move his entire gambling organization out of California and into Nevada where he and his brothers opened a rundown but very profitable casino on the Vegas Strip. Within a year, Siegel had the cash, most of it from the New York end of the syndicate, to build the fabulous Flamingo Hotel.
In May of 1947, one month before he was executed, Bugsy Siegel called Jimmy Fratianno, a Los Angeles hood who, technically anyway, worked for Chicago, and asked him to come out to Las Vegas for a meeting. He didn't tell them what it concerned, but, as they found out, it was a recruitment drive. He had already made the same pitch to Jack Dragna, Bugsy Siegel was planning the unheard of, and he was going to start his own organization out in the Nevada desert.
Virginia Hill had already reported Siegel's plans to Paul Ricca in Chicago, and, even though the Chicago mob was chiseling Siegel in the Flamingo by sending in professional gamblers to break the bank, they were indignant. As far as they were concerned, although the syndicate had agreed to allow Vegas and Reno to operate as open cities, it was clearly understood in the syndicate that Chicago controlled everything west of the Mississippi.
Siegel was a regional problem at a time when the mob thought it had gotten over its regional misunderstandings. He was a relic from the past. He had to be removed.
On June 8, 1947, Virginia Hill got a call from Epstein back in Chicago, he told her to get out of town, to go to France, and she could tell Siegel she was going there to buy wine for the casino as she had in the past. He wouldn't question that. Virginia knew, immediately, why she had to leave town. They were going to kill Bugsy and the boys back in Chicago didn't want their best cash courier and narcotics peddler splattered with blood and headlines. Virginia flew into Chicago and met Epstein at Midway airport, where he gave her $5,000 and then she continued to Paris.
Back on the West Coast, Bugsy Siegel, caught in the middle of an uprising, was too busy to care where Virginia was. Several days before, Siegel told Micky Cohen to tell all of the bookies in Los Angeles, Reno and Vegas that the price for using the wire service was going to double. But, to Siegel's amazement, the bookies refused to pay, they knew that Chicago was taking over and that they were planning to kill Siegel.
And, on June 20, 1947, that's what they did.
Jack Dragna gave the order to a hood named Frankie Carranzo. When the call came, Carranzo drove up to Beverly Hills and parked his car a few feet from Siegel's home, wound the silencer onto the barrel of his .30 caliber, army issue carbine, and walked around to the back of the house. He hid in the shadow of a rose-covered lattice work with his army carbine and released an entire clip into the living room through a 14-inch pane of glass.
Nine slugs in all. Two of them tore apart Bugsy's face as he sat on a chintz-covered couch. One bullet smashed the bridge of his nose and drove into his left eye. The eye was later found on the dining room floor, fifteen feet away from his dead body. The bullet was found in an English painting on the wall. The other entered his right cheek, passed through the back of his neck, and shattered a vertebra, ripped across the room.
At exactly 11:00 A.M., Jack Dragna got a call from Carranzo: "The insect was killed," and he then hung up.
A few minutes before that call, at 10:55, Little Moe Sedway and Gus Greenbaum, two hoods with gambling backgrounds, strode into the Flamingo and announced over the intercom system, "OK, we're taking over."
Everyone present knew who "we" were.
The only persons to attend Siegel's funeral services at Beth Olam Cemetery were his brother and a Rabbi.
Virginia Hill continued working for the Chicago outfit as a courier for several more years before they replaced her in 1950. She married a guy who wasn't involved with the outfit and had a child, but that ended in divorce.
Joey Epp never fell out of love with her, and he kept her on the books for as long as they bosses would let him, but eventually even that stopped.
In the 1950s when investigators followed a cash trail from Epstein to Hill, the gun moll was questioned about it by US Senator Charles Tobey who asked “But why would Joe Epstein give you money Miss Hill?” to which Hill replied “You really want to know?”
“Yes, I do” said Tobey
“The” replied Hill “I’ll tell you why. Because I’m the best cocksucker in town”
When the cash did stop coming in, it was widely rumored in gangland that Virginia, desperate for cash, started to extort money out of Joe Adonis and other mob guys for whom she had carried narcotics over the years. On March 24, 1966, near a brook in Koppl Austria, a small town near Salzburg, two hikers found Virginia Hill's dead body. Austrian officials, not understanding who Hill had been, ruled her unusual death a suicide by poison.
The Flamingo's next manager was Gus Greenbaum. He did his job. The hotel was completed and enlarged from 97 to two hundred rooms. By the end of the year the casino posted a $4 million profit, $15 million before the skim, clearing the way for the skimming to begin.
Excerpt from my book "When Capone’s Mob Murdered Touhy.”
A few days later, Roger Touhy, armed with a machine gun, walked into a meeting at the Teamsters Headquarters in Chicago. With him was his top enforcer, Willie Sharkey, and two other men. Each of them carried a machine gun and a pistol as they herded the union officials and lined them up against the wall. As more members entered the building for a special emergency meeting, they too were lined up against the wall until there were over one hundred members held hostage.
After two hours, Roger stood before the crowd and spoke.
"Listen up you mugs, we've come here today to clean the dago syndicate out of the Teamsters Union."
A cheer went up across the room from the membership. Roger looked over the faces in the hall and spotted a half dozen of Murray Humpreys' enforcers including Artie Barrett whom Touhy had known from the Valley. "We thought you were a right guy" he said to Barrett. 'What are you doing hanging around these rats for?"
'Well, hell, I gotta eat Rog, " Barrett said.
He let Barrett leave but pulled two of the syndicate's union leaders named Goldberg and Sass into an office and told them to call Murray Humpreys and tell him to come to the building as soon as he could. When they said they couldn't remember the number, Roger said, 'Well, get together and think it up or we'll give it to you right outside the door. None of you other mugs have to be afraid, we're after Klondike O'Donnell, Camel Humpreys and Jack White and we won't hurt anybody else."
Out of ignorance or fear Goldberg and Sass didn't place the call.
Roger rounded up his men and left the building at 11:30 in the morning, three full hours after they had arrived, taking Goldberg and Sass with him. His last words to the membership were, 'These two are going to get theirs. " Once again the membership exploded in cheers.
Sass and Goldberg were released two days later. They were not harmed or abused. "Actually," said Goldberg, "they treated us well. The food was excellent. The conversation was good."
Touhy's brazen daylight raid on the heart of the syndicate's union operation was a slap in the face for Red Barker and Murray Humpreys. The syndicate, less than several hundred in number, had ruled over Chicago's massive unions by fear and the threat of violence. Touhy's raid had temporarily taken away that edge and they needed to get it back.
Barker and Humpreys retaliated with a daylight drive-by shooting at Wall's Bar-B-Que and Rib. Wall's was a restaurant frequented by the Touhys because Roger had developed a friendship with a waitress, Peggy Carey. In the middle of a sun-filled Saturday afternoon, four carloads of syndicate gunmen sped by the restaurant while Roger and several of his men lounged around in the parking lot. They sprayed the lot and the restaurant with machine gun fire. The Touhys returned fire but remarkably, no one was injured in the melee.
In retaliation for the shooting the Touhys struck The Dells, a large syndicate speakeasy and casino operating just inside Touhy's territory. It was under the protection of a hood named Fred Pacelli, younger brother of future United States Congressman Bill Pacelli. Three of Roger's best men, Willie Sharkey, Roy Marshalk and George Wilke arrived at The Dells driving Roger Touhy's new Chrysler sedan. They walked into the casino, surrounded Pacelli and fired one round into his face and one into the small of his back. After the hood's girlfriend, Maryanne Bruce, tried to wrestle the pistol out of Marshalk's hand they fired a round into her head as well.
A few days later, the Touhys gunned down Red Barker. It was a damaging blow to the syndicate. Willie Sharkey, Roger's most reliable killer, had rented an apartment overlooking Barker's office and waited there patiently, perched in a window, with a water-cooled, tripod set machine gun. Sharkey killed Barker by firing thirty-six bullets into him in a matter of seconds as he walked down the street.
At almost exactly the same time across town, Touhy's gunners, dressed as Chicago police and riding in a borrowed police cruiser, killed a syndicate enforcer named "Fat Tony" Jerfitar, and his partner, Nicky Provenzano. The drive by shooting occurred as the two hoods sat in front of a store with their eyes closed, sun bathing their faces. They never knew what hit them.
Next, Touhy's gang killed a beer peddler named James J. Kenny. He was found in an alley dead, having had the back of his head blown off. A few weeks before the murder the Touhys had taken the unusual step of warning Kenny not to push the syndicate's booze inside their kingdom. He did it anyway, so they killed him.
Four days later an unknown hood, believed to be a professional killer imported from New York by Frank Nitti, was found dead on a Chicago sidewalk. His face was blown off by shotgun pellets. His frozen body was planted, literally, in a snow bank on a dead end street.
A week later, Joe Provenzo, a syndicate soldier, was killed when two men wearing police uniforms asked him his name. When he answered, they thanked him, shot him through the head and calmly walked away. Five minutes later and several blocks away, John Liberto, another Nitti hood, was shot in the head at close range by the same two men.
After that the syndicate took two more hard hits. At the crack of dawn Cermak was in his office, surrounded by his special squad and the Chicago chief of police, planning the day's raids against the mob's most lucrative casinos. Over the remainder of the morning, working on information provided by Roger Touhy and Teddy Newberry, twelve mob casinos were closed down. Sixteen Chicago detectives were demoted, reassigned or fired for allowing a rising syndicate hood named "Tough Tony" Capezio to operate in their districts. The loss of sixteen cops, all bought and paid for, hurt the syndicate badly, leaving them with very few officers on the take.
Cermak's pressure on the police department had scared most officers off the syndicate's pad, while the others waited on the sidelines to see who would come out on top in this war.
The next blow came when two of the syndicate's best gunners, Nicholas Maggio, and his partner in crime, Anthony Persico, were targeted in a retaliation killing for the murder of Bill Rooney. John Rooney, the business agent for the billposters' union and brother to Bill Rooney, ambushed and killed the two men on a back stretch of road deep inside Touhy's territory.
The syndicate was taking a pounding. Their ranks were already thinned from assaults by the federal government, not to mention the beating they were taking at the hands of the Touhy organization. To bolster their numbers the outfit's leaders recruited members of the 42s, a gang of crazy kids from an Italian neighborhood called the Patch. This same gang would produce the syndicate's next ruling body in the form of Sam Giancana, Marshal Ciafano, Teets Battaglia and others.
Reinforced with the 42s, the syndicate tracked down a top Touhy enforcer named Frank Schaeffler, once a contender for the world's light heavy-weight crown. They shot him as he entered an all-night speakeasy called The Advance.
The Touhy forces struck back by killing a major syndicate pimp named Nicky Renelli and in a separate incident gunning down Elmer Russel, a bouncer at a syndicate bar called the Alaskan Forum Road House.
The next mob hood to die was Maurice Barrett. He was shot through the head and arm, then dropped at the front door of a neighborhood hospital where he bled to death.
Three days later the Touhys lined up three of Nitti's men and shot them through the knees with machine guns after they tried to muscle into a meeting at the Chicago house painters' union.
The Touhys scored another big hit when they killed Danny Cain, the thirty-two-year-old president of the Chicago Coal Teamsters and brother-in-law of George Red Barker. Several men in a car followed Cain home as he left a nightclub. They pulled up alongside his car and drowned it in machine gun fire.
On a freezing Wednesday night, Willie O'Brien, a slugger employed by the Touhys, walked into a popular speakeasy called the Garage. There he was jumped by three men who tried to force him outside to the rear alley where a car was waiting. O'Brien managed to fight them all off until one of the men pulled a pistol and fired a shot into O'Brien's back. Unarmed, O'Brien was running toward the front door when another shot caught him in the leg and a third shot went into the palm of his right hand as he used it to cover his spine. A half an hour later O'Brien staggered into the waiting room of the Augustana hospital.
Officer Martin O'Malley, who grew up with Touhy and O'Brien in the Valley, arrived and interviewed the hood on his death bed.
'Who shot you Billy?"
"I known them. Known them for ten years, but I won't tell you who they are. "
"You're going to die Billy. Who killed you? I'll have your revenge."
O'Brien just shook his head and died.
Seven days later, the Touhys struck back. It was fifteen degrees below zero and snowing when a car pulled up to the curb. Several men in long coats climbed out, walked into a pool room and poured five shots into a syndicate hood named Fred Petilli who was leaning against a pool table, his back to the door. A few moments later the same car pulled up in front of The Garage nightclub where Jimmy O'Brien had been killed. A tall man, probably Basil Banghart, opened the front door to the club, tossed in a bomb and said "This is for Jimmy, you bastards!"
The bomb blew the place to bits but remarkably, no one was killed.
After that, Charlie O'Neill, a very young Touhy gunman, was kidnapped off the street, shot twice in the head and dumped in the middle of traffic on a busy intersection.
The Touhys responded by killing a labor goon named Nichols Razes. They shot him five times during a running gun battle in the Green Hut restaurant owned by Razes' brother. Charles McKenna, a Touhy labor enforcer and president of the truck painters' union, was shot in the arm during the gun battle. He was arrested for murder as he straggled down the street, murder weapon still in hand. He was held, booked and then released for "lack of evidence."
That same month, the syndicate tried to kidnap Roger Touhy's two sons as they waited for their mother to pick them up from school in Des Plains. Somebody had to pay for that and Roger chose Eddie Gambino, a dope peddler and union goon. They caught Gambino as he was about to step out of his car. Two gunmen, stepped up to the driver's window and opened fire. Before he bled to death, Gambino was able to pull his own pistol but dropped it before he could fire at his killers. One of the two killers, enraged at Gambino's defiance, stepped back over to the hood's blood-smeared face and fired at his temple.
How Lee Child, Author of the Jack Reacher Novels, Spends His Sundays
By JOHN LELAND
New York Times
Lee Child, the author of the Jack Reacher crime novels, starts a new book each September and finishes sometime in spring, 20 books in 20 years. The most recent, “Make Me,” just took over the No. 1 spot on the New York Times best-seller list. He spends Sundays the way many writers do, in his own bubble. “It’s hard for others to understand, because you’re living in this made-up zone of fantasy, where that seems real to you, and the real real stuff seems odd,” he said. Mr. Child, 60, whose real name is Jim Grant, lives on the Upper West Side with his wife, Jane Grant.
EASTERN EXPOSURE My bedroom faces east, so I get woken up by the sun. What I really love is a winter Sunday when it has snowed overnight. You get that special quality of light, and you get the silence because there’s no traffic. You have that paralyzed feeling that’s always fun for a while.
FUEL I put on a pot of coffee. That’s my essential fuel, so that’s the first thing. I think my record is about 36 cups.
FUSS Quite often if I’m in the middle of something, or if a book is getting towards the end, then while the coffee is brewing I’ll take a look at what I did yesterday and start fussing with it.
FRENCH FAMILY FOOD Sometimes I will go to a restaurant called La Mirabelle, on 86th and Columbus, which is a completely authentic middlebrow French restaurant and therefore not quite as popular with the casual Sunday brunch crowd. That’s my favorite cuisine in the whole world, what in France they call a family restaurant. It’s not Michelin-star, it’s not a bistro, it’s somewhere in the middle.
ART WALK There’s a gentler pace on a Sunday. It’s some kind of human consensus, so I will usually take the opportunity to go to a museum. Museums are always crowded, but on a Sunday somehow it feels a little more benevolent and relaxed.
INTO THE WOODS I’ll walk through the park from the 85th Street entrance on the West Side. It’s a fairly short walk across the park to the Metropolitan, but it’s a great walk. You can have a little detour to Summit Rock, which is this immense geological thing that reminds me of what the island must have looked like before civilization hit. And then you come back and walk through the Pinetum, which is very grand and majestic. And then the walk becomes a real New York walk. You go by the lawn, where there’s probably a pickup baseball game, and as you approach the Metropolitan there’s probably a jazz trio or two.
DUCK IN I’ll maybe start at the Guggenheim. I’ve got memberships to all the museums so it’s not an issue to just duck in and out. Then I’ll probably walk down to the Metropolitan and do the same. Jane and I have this lifelong project that we’re going to study every room in the Metropolitan, which probably will take a lifetime. We’ll go and do two or possibly three rooms, then quit. If it’s a nice day, I might loop all the way around to the Modern.
HUNGER PANGS If we’re together, either we’ll cook or go out or get delivery. If it’s just me, a bowl of cereal could be it.
CATCHING UP WITH FRIENDS The secret disadvantage that writers have is that writing takes away from reading time. So it’s very appealing to me to say I’ll take the evening off and read a book. I’ll read absolutely anything. I read my peers and contemporaries because at a certain level a book is almost a diary of how that person felt during that year. So I read all my friends to catch up on their news.
UNTANGLING Usually I’ll have a cigarette or a joint. Listening to music is my other relaxation. I find that music is helpful clarifying thoughts for writing. Writing is not all that different from music. It has a time base, it has chronological development, it aims toward something in the same way that a piece of music does. A good piece of music untangles thoughts and points a direction for what I should write tomorrow. I’m pretty much a classic rock type of guy, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, blues. But I’m a bit of a sucker for Adele, Dido, people like that. Nothing better than to have women sing a song directly into your ear.
DON’T LOOK BACK I try not to look at my writing near bedtime, because it will fire my brain up.
#SundayRoutine readers can follow Lee Child on Twitter on Sunday@LeeChildReacher.
Architecture for the blog of it
Art for the Blog of It
Art for the Pop of it
Photography for the blog of it
Music for the Blog of it
Sculpture this and Sculpture that
The art of War (Propaganda art through the ages)
Album Art (Photographic arts)
Pulp Fiction Trash (The art of Pulp Fiction covers)
Admit it, you want to Read this Book (The art of Pulp Fiction covers)
The Godfather Trilogy BlogSpot
On the Waterfront: The Making of a great American Film
The Wee Book of Irish Recipes (Book support site)
Good chowda (New England foods)
Old New England Recipes (Book support site)
And I Love Clams (New England foods)
In Praise of the Rhode Island Wiener (New England foods)
Wicked Cool New England Recipes (New England foods)
Old New England Recipes (New England foods)
Foster Care new and Updates
Aging out of the system
Murder, Death and Abuse in the Foster Care system
Angel and Saints in the Foster Care System
The Foster Children’s Blogs
Foster Care Legislation
The Foster Children’s Bill of Right
Foster Kids own Story
The Adventures of Foster Kid.
Me vs. Diabetes (Diabetes education site)
The Quotable Helen Keller
Teddy Roosevelt's Letters to his children (Book support site)
The Quotable Machiavelli (Book support site)
Whatever you do, don't laugh
The Quotable Grouch Marx
A Big Blog of Irish Literature
The Wee Blog of Irish Jokes (Book support blog)
The Wee Blog of Irish Recipes
The Irish American Gangster
The Irish in their Own Words
When Washington Was Irish
The Wee Book of Irish Recipes (Book support site)
The Blogable Robert Frost
The Beat Poets of the Forever Generation
Holden Caulfield Blog Spot
The Quotable Oscar Wilde
NEW ENGLAND BLOGS
The Quotable Thoreau
Old New England Recipes
Wicked Cool New England Recipes
The New England Mafia
And I Love Clams
In Praise of the Rhode Island Wiener
The Connecticut History Blog
The Connecticut Irish
God, How I hated the 70s
Child of the Sixties Forever
The Kennedy’s in the 60’s
Music of the Sixties Forever
Elvis and Nixon at the White House (Book support site)
Beatles Fan Forever
Year One, 1955
Robert Kennedy in His Own Words
The 1980s were fun
The 1990s. The last decade.
The Russian Mafia
The American Jewish Gangster
The Mob in Hollywood
We Only Kill Each Other
Early Gangsters of New York City
Al Capone: Biography of a self-made Man
The Life and World of Al Capone
The Salerno Report
Guns and Glamour
The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre
Recipes we would Die For
The Prohibition in Pictures
The Mob in Pictures
The Mob in Vegas
The Irish American Gangster
Roger Touhy Gangster
Chicago’s Mob Bosses
Chicago Gang Land: It Happened Here
Whacked: One Hundred years of Murder in Gangland
The Mob Across America
Mob Cops, Lawyers and Front Men
Shooting the Mob: Dutch Schultz
Bugsy& His Flamingo: The Testimony of Virginia Hill
After Valachi. Hearings before the US Senate on Organized Crime
Mob Buster: Report of Special Agent Virgil Peterson to the Kefauver Committee (Book support site)
The US Government’s Timeline of Organized Crime (Book support site)
The Kefauver Organized Crime Hearings (Book support site)
Joe Valachi's testimony on the Mafia (Book support site)
Mobsters in the News
Shooting the Mob: Dead Mobsters (Book support site)
The Stolen Years Full Text (Roger Touhy)
Mobsters in Black and White
Mafia Gangsters, Wiseguys and Goodfellas
Whacked: One Hundred Years of Murder and Mayhem in the Chicago Mob (Book support site)
Gangland Gaslight: The Killing of Rosy Rosenthal (Book support site)
The Best of the Mob Files Series (Book support site)
It’s All Greek Mythology to me
The Rarifieid Tribe
The Upscale Traveler
The Mish Mosh Blog
DC Behind the Monuments
When Washington Was Irish
FROM LLR BOOKS. COM
Litchfield Literary Books. A really small company run by writers.
The Day Nixon Met Elvis
Paperback 46 pages
Theodore Roosevelt: Letters to his Children. 1903-1918
Paperback 194 pages
THE ANCIENT GREEKS AND CIVILIZATIONS
The Works of Horace
Paperback 174 pages
The Quotable Greeks
Paperback 234 pages
The Quotable Epictetus
Paperback 142 pages
Quo Vadis: A narrative of the time of Nero
Paperback 420 pages
The Porchless Pumpkin: A Halloween Story for Children
A Halloween play for young children. By consent of the author, this play may be performed, at no charge, by educational institutions, neighborhood organizations and other not-for-profit-organizations.
A fun story with a moral
“I believe that Denny O'Day is an American treasure and this little book proves it. Jack is a pumpkin who happens to be very small, by pumpkins standards and as a result he goes unbought in the pumpkin patch on Halloween eve, but at the last moment he is given his chance to prove that just because you're small doesn't mean you can't be brave. Here is the point that I found so wonderful, the book stresses that while size doesn't matter when it comes to courage...ITS OKAY TO BE SCARED....as well. I think children need to hear that, that's its okay to be unsure because life is a ongoing lesson isn't it?”
Paperback: 42 pages
BOOKS ON FOSTER CARE
It's Not All Right to be a Foster Kid....no matter what they tell you: Tweet the books contents
Paperback 94 pages
From the Author
I spent my childhood, from age seven through seventeen, in foster care. Over the course of those ten years, many decent, well-meaning, and concerned people told me, "It's okay to be foster kid."
In saying that, those very good people meant to encourage me, and I appreciated their kindness then, and all these many decades later, I still appreciate their good intentions. But as I was tossed around the foster care system, it began to dawn on me that they were wrong. It was not all right to be a foster kid.
During my time in the system, I was bounced every eighteen months from three foster homes to an orphanage to a boy's school and to a group home before I left on my own accord at age seventeen.
In the course of my stay in foster care, I was severely beaten in two homes by my "care givers" and separated from my four siblings who were also in care, sometimes only blocks away from where I was living.
I left the system rather than to wait to age out, although the effects of leaving the system without any family, means, or safety net of any kind, were the same as if I had aged out. I lived in poverty for the first part of my life, dropped out of high school, and had continuous problems with the law.
Today, almost nothing about foster care has changed. Exactly what happened to me is happening to some other child, somewhere in America, right now. The system, corrupt, bloated, and inefficient, goes on, unchanging and secretive.
Something has gone wrong in a system that was originally a compassionate social policy built to improve lives but is now a definitive cause in ruining lives. Due to gross negligence, mismanagement, apathy, and greed, mostly what the foster care system builds are dangerous consequences. Truly, foster care has become our epic national disgrace and a nightmare for those of us who have lived through it.
Yet there is a suspicion among some Americans that foster care costs too much, undermines the work ethic, and is at odds with a satisfying life. Others see foster care as a part of the welfare system, as legal plunder of the public treasuries.
None of that is true; in fact, all that sort of thinking does is to blame the victims. There is not a single child in the system who wants to be there or asked to be there. Foster kids are in foster care because they had nowhere else to go. It's that simple. And believe me, if those kids could get out of the system and be reunited with their parents and lead normal, healthy lives, they would. And if foster care is a sort of legal plunder of the public treasuries, it's not the kids in the system who are doing the plundering.
We need to end this needless suffering. We need to end it because it is morally and ethically wrong and because the generations to come will not judge us on the might of our armed forces or our technological advancements or on our fabulous wealth.
Rather, they will judge us, I am certain, on our compassion for those who are friendless, on our decency to those who have nothing and on our efforts, successful or not, to make our nation and our world a better place. And if we cannot accomplish those things in the short time allotted to us, then let them say of us "at least they tried."
You can change the tragedy of foster care and here's how to do it. We have created this book so that almost all of it can be tweeted out by you to the world. You have the power to improve the lives of those in our society who are least able to defend themselves. All you need is the will to do it.
If the American people, as good, decent and generous as they are, knew what was going on in foster care, in their name and with their money, they would stop it. But, generally speaking, although the public has a vague notion that foster care is a mess, they don't have the complete picture. They are not aware of the human, economic and social cost that the mismanagement of the foster care system puts on our nation.
By tweeting the facts laid out in this work, you can help to change all of that. You can make a difference. You can change things for the better.
We can always change the future for a foster kid; to make it better ...you have the power to do that. Speak up (or tweet out) because it's your country. Don't depend on the "The other guy" to speak up for these kids, because you are the other guy.
We cannot build a future for foster children, but we can build foster children for the future and the time to start that change is today.
No time to say Goodbye: Memoirs of a life in foster
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