#Attorney Injury Palm Springs

[thebaumlawfirm]

Protect Yourself with a Qualified Injury Lawyer in Palm Springs

The Baum Law Firm is a professional, experienced and highly-regarded Palm Springs car accident law firm. Our experienced teams of Palm Springs Car Accident Attorneys are dedicated to fighting for accident victims’ rights and making sure they get the care and compensation they deserve. Whether you’ve been injured in a car accident in Palm Springs, or are dealing with an accident-related injury, we are here to help.

At The Baum Law Firm, our first priority is to ensure that our clients are fully informed and comfortable with the legal process. We believe that by providing our clients with a solid foundation of knowledge and understanding, they are better equipped to make the best choices for themselves and their families. Our experienced team of lawyers can help you build a strong case, as well as guide you through the entire process.

We understand how emotionally and financially devastating an accident can be, and are dedicated to helping you seek justice and maximum compensation. Our Palm Springs car accident attorneys have extensive experience representing accident victims in court, and are knowledgeable on the best strategies for protecting their rights and interests. We understand the complexities of Accident And Injury Law in Palm Springs and are committed to providing the highest quality legal services and representation.

At The Baum Law Firm, we consider it important to keep our clients apprised of their case’s status and progress, and will stay in close contact with them throughout the entire legal process. We strive to provide comprehensive representation and thorough legal guidance to our clients. Our caring and compassionate attorneys are dedicated to helping you receive the best possible outcome.

If you or a loved one has been injured in a car accident in Palm Springs, contact The Baum Law Firm today. Our experienced teams of A Car Accident Lawyers in Palm Springs are committed to providing you with the highest quality legal representation. We understand the stress and financial hardship that comes with an accident-related injury, and are here to ensure you get the care and compensation you deserve. Don’t hesitate to call us today at (760) 325-2681 to discuss your case and start the process of seeking justice. Visit us at:- https://baumlawfirm.com/

[palmdesertaccidentattorney00]

Palm Desert Car Accident Attorneys - Personal Injury Attorneys

Palm Desert Car Accident Attorneys: We are a team of premier personal injury attorneys who specialize in handling car accidents. Our utmost dedication lies in protecting the rights of our clients and ensuring they receive the maximum compensation they deserve. With our extensive experience, exceptional skills, and compassionate approach, we serve as your trusted legal advocates throughout the entire process. Our primary objective is to assist you in overcoming any legal challenges you may be facing, empowering you to emerge stronger than ever.

Our skilled team of attorneys is committed to advocating for justice on your behalf. Expertise in car, motorbike, truck, bicycle accident, and more personal injury cases, ensuring you receive the best representation. Contact us now (760) 325-2681 or visit our website www.palmdesertaccident.com  for free consolation to discuss your personal injury case.

[beardedmrbean]

PORTLAND, Ore. (KOIN) — A former Portland lawyer was sentenced to more than eight years in federal prison Monday after defrauding over 100 clients out of millions of dollars in insurance proceeds, according to the U.S. District Attorney’s Office.

Lori E. Deveny, 57, was also ordered to pay over $4.5 million in restitution to her victims.

“It’s hard to overstate the extraordinary impact Ms. Deveny’s crimes had on the many innocent and vulnerable victims who trusted her. As a former attorney, she had a special responsibility to her clients and to the public, but she repeatedly abused this trust and prioritized her own needs. This is a just sentence for serious crimes,” said Ethan Knight, Chief of the Economic Crimes Unit for the U.S. Attorney’s Office.

“The cruelest thing of all is knowingly providing false hope. Having already suffered losses, Ms. Deveny’s clients deserved an attorney who represented their best interests. What they got instead was someone who inflicted more loss,” added Special Agent in Charge Bret Kressin, IRS Criminal Investigation (IRS-CI), Seattle Field Office. “Today, Ms. Deveny is receiving what she never provided her clients: a picture of reality that those who choose to defraud will face the consequences of their actions.”

Court documents say that between April 2011 and May 2019, Deveny defrauded at least 135 of her clients out of over $3.8 million in insurance proceeds by stealing clients’ identities, forging insurance checks, depositing client funds into her personal bank account and deceiving clients continually by telling them they would eventually receive compensation for their injuries. Many of her victims were particularly vulnerable due to their severe brain and bodily injuries, the U.S. Attorney’s Office said.

Deveny’s scheme also cost Oregon State Bar Client Security Fund, Wells Fargo and the IRS, according to investigators. Due to the state bar making partial restitution payments to some of Deveny’s clients, their security fund lost $1.2 million, one of the largest losses in the organization’s history. Wells Fargo reportedly lost $52,000 due to a forged check and the IRS lost over $621,000 when Deveny didn’t report the money she stole on her tax returns.

Deveny used the proceeds to pay more than $150,000 on foreign and domestic airline tickets, more than $173,000 on African safari and big game hunting trips, $35,000 on taxidermy expenses, $125,000 on home renovations, $195,000 in mortgage payments, more than $220,000 in cigars and related expenses, $58,000 on pet boarding and veterinary costs, $41,000 on recreational vehicle expenses, $50,000 for a Cadillac vehicle, and $60,000 on stays at a luxury nudist resort in Palm Springs, Calif.

“While serving as an attorney, Ms. Deveny brazenly stole money that should have gone to pay for health care for her clients for serious injuries and ailments. Instead, that money funded things like big game hunting trips to Africa and home remodeling. She took advantage of people who were physically and emotionally hurting by forging insurance checks, stealing the funds and lying to her clients about the payouts,” said Kieran L. Ramsey, Special Agent in Charge of the FBI Portland Field Office. “These actions not only got her disbarred but are now putting her behind bars. The FBI applauds our partners at IRS-CI and the U.S. Attorney’s Office, as we continue to bring to justice those who commit this kind of unconscionable financial fraud that harms the people in our shared community.”

A grand jury returned a 24-count indictment on Deveny on May 7, 2019, charging her with mail, bank, and wire fraud, as well as aggravated identity theft, money laundering and filing a false tax return. She pled guilty to one count each of mail, wire, and bank fraud, and also plead guilty to money laundering, filing a false tax return and two counts of aggravated identity theft on June 27, 2022.

[baumlawfirm]

Hemet Car Accident Lawyer

The Baum Law Firm is the most well-known and skilled Indio and Hemet car accident attorney.  We will not charge fees unless and until we obtain money for your case through a legal decision.

Contact Us: Address:     777 E. Tahquitz Canyon Way, Suite 200-100, Palm Springs, CA 92262, United States Phone:       (760) 325-2681 Website:     https://baumlawfirm.com/

[timeless-hollywood-classics]

Robert Charles Durman Mitchum (August 6, 1917 – July 1, 1997) was an American actor, director, author, poet, composer, and singer. Mitchum rose to prominence for starring roles in several classic films noirs, and his acting is generally considered a forerunner of the antiheroes prevalent in film during the 1950s and 1960s. His best-known films include Out of the Past (1947), The Night of the Hunter (1955), Cape Fear (1962), and El Dorado (1966). Mitchum was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor for The Story of G.I. Joe (1945). He is also known for his television role as U.S. Navy Captain Victor “Pug” Henry in the epic miniseries The Winds of War (1983) and sequel War and Remembrance (1988).

Mitchum is rated number 23 on the American Film Institute's list of the greatest male stars of Classic American Cinema.

Robert Mitchum was born in Bridgeport, Connecticut, on August 6, 1917, into a Norwegian-Irish Methodist family. His mother, Ann Harriet Gunderson, was a Norwegian immigrant and sea captain's daughter; his father, James Thomas Mitchum, was a shipyard and railroad worker of Irish descent.[3] His older sister, Annette (known as Julie Mitchum during her acting career), was born in 1914. Their father, James Mitchum, was crushed to death in a railyard accident in Charleston, South Carolina, in February 1919. Robert was one year old, and Annette was not yet five. Their mother was awarded a government pension, and soon realized she was pregnant. Her third child, John, was born in September of that year. Ann married again to Major Hugh Cunningham Morris, a former Royal Naval Reserve officer. Ann and Morris had a daughter together, Carol Morris, born July 1927, on the family farm in Delaware. When all of the children were old enough to attend school, Ann found employment as a linotype operator for the Bridgeport Post.

As a child, Mitchum was known as a prankster, often involved in fistfights and mischief. When he was 12, his mother sent him to live with her parents in Felton, Delaware; the boy was promptly expelled from middle school for scuffling with the principal. A year later, in 1930, he moved in with his older sister Annette, in New York's Hell's Kitchen. After being expelled from Haaren High School, he left his sister and traveled throughout the country, hopping on railroad cars, taking a number of jobs, including ditch-digging for the Civilian Conservation Corps and professional boxing. At age 14 in Savannah, Georgia, he said he was arrested for vagrancy and put on a local chain gang. By Mitchum's own account, he escaped and returned to his family in Delaware. During this time, while recovering from injuries that nearly cost him a leg, he met Dorothy Spence, whom he would later marry. He soon went back on the road, eventually "riding the rails" to California.

Mitchum arrived in Long Beach, California, in 1936, staying again with his sister, now going by the name of Julie. She had moved to the West Coast in the hope of acting in movies, and the rest of the Mitchum family soon joined them. During this time, Mitchum worked as a ghostwriter for astrologer Carroll Righter. Julie convinced him to join the local theater guild with her. At The Players Guild of Long Beach, Mitchum worked as a stagehand and occasional bit-player in company productions. He also wrote several short pieces which were performed by the guild. According to Lee Server's biography (Robert Mitchum: Baby, I Don't Care), Mitchum put his talent for poetry to work writing song lyrics and monologues for Julie's nightclub performances.

In 1940, he returned to Delaware to marry Dorothy Spence, and they moved back to California. He gave up his artistic pursuits at the birth of their first child James, nicknamed Josh, and two more children, Chris and Petrine, followed. Mitchum found steady employment as a machine operator during wartime era WWII, with the Lockheed Aircraft Corporation, but the noise of the machinery damaged his hearing. He also suffered a nervous breakdown (which resulted in temporary blindness), due to job-related stress. He then sought work as a film actor, performing initially as an extra and in small speaking parts. His agent got him an interview with Harry Sherman, the producer of Paramount's Hopalong Cassidy western film series, which starred William Boyd; Mitchum was hired to play minor villainous roles in several films in the series during 1942 and 1943. He went uncredited as a soldier in the Mickey Rooney 1943 film The Human Comedy. Also in 1943 he and Randolph Scott were soldiers in the Pacific Island war film Gung Ho.

Mitchum continued to find work as an extra and supporting actor in numerous productions for various studios. After impressing director Mervyn LeRoy during the making of Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo, Mitchum signed a seven-year contract with RKO Radio Pictures. He was groomed for B-Western stardom in a series of Zane Grey adaptations.

Following the moderately successful Western Nevada, RKO lent Mitchum to United Artists for The Story of G.I. Joe (1945). In the film, he portrayed war-weary officer Bill Walker (based on Captain Henry T. Waskow), who remains resolute despite the troubles he faces. The film, which followed the life of an ordinary soldier through the eyes of journalist Ernie Pyle (played by Burgess Meredith), became an instant critical and commercial success. Shortly after filming, Mitchum was drafted into the United States Army, serving at Fort MacArthur, California, as a medic. At the 1946 Academy Awards, The Story of G.I. Joe was nominated for four Oscars, including Mitchum's only nomination for Best Supporting Actor. He finished the year with a Western (West of the Pecos) and a story of returning Marine veterans (Till the End of Time), before filming in a genre that came to define Mitchum's career and screen persona: film noir.

Mitchum was initially known for his work in film noir. His first foray into the genre was a supporting role in the 1944 B-movie When Strangers Marry, about newlyweds and a New York City serial killer. Undercurrent, another of Mitchum's early noir films, featured him as a troubled, sensitive man entangled in the affairs of his brother (Robert Taylor) and his brother's suspicious wife (Katharine Hepburn). John Brahm's The Locket (1946) featured Mitchum as bitter ex-boyfriend to Laraine Day's femme fatale. Raoul Walsh's Pursued (1947) combined Western and noir styles, with Mitchum's character attempting to recall his past and find those responsible for killing his family. Crossfire (also 1947) featured Mitchum as a member of a group of World War II soldiers, one of whom kills a Jewish man. It featured themes of anti-Semitism and the failings of military training. The film, directed by Edward Dmytryk, earned five Academy Award nominations.

Following Crossfire, Mitchum starred in Out of the Past (also called Build My Gallows High), directed by Jacques Tourneur and featuring the cinematography of Nicholas Musuraca. Mitchum played Jeff Markham, a small-town gas-station owner and former investigator, whose unfinished business with gambler Whit Sterling (Kirk Douglas) and femme fatale Kathie Moffett (Jane Greer) comes back to haunt him.

On September 1, 1948, after a string of successful films for RKO, Mitchum and actress Lila Leeds were arrested for possession of marijuana.[10] The arrest was the result of a sting operation designed to capture other Hollywood partiers as well, but Mitchum and Leeds did not receive the tipoff. After serving a week at the county jail (he described the experience to a reporter as being "like Palm Springs, but without the riff-raff"), Mitchum spent 43 days (February 16 to March 30) at a Castaic, California, prison farm. Life photographers were permitted to take photos of him mopping up in his prison uniform. The arrest inspired the exploitation film She Shoulda Said No! (1949), which starred Leeds. The conviction was later overturned by the Los Angeles court and district attorney's office on January 31, 1951, after being exposed as a setup.

Despite, or because of, Mitchum's troubles with the law and his studio, his films released immediately after his arrest were box-office hits. Rachel and the Stranger (1948) featured Mitchum in a supporting role as a mountain man competing for the hand of Loretta Young, the indentured servant and wife of William Holden. In the film adaptation of John Steinbeck's novella The Red Pony (1949), he appeared as a trusted cowhand to a ranching family. He returned to film noir in The Big Steal (also 1949), where he reunited with Jane Greer in an early Don Siegel film.

In Where Danger Lives (1950), Mitchum played a doctor who comes between a mentally unbalanced Faith Domergue and cuckolded Claude Rains. The Racket was a noir remake of the early crime drama of the same name and featured Mitchum as a police captain fighting corruption in his precinct. The Josef von Sternberg film, Macao (1952), had Mitchum as a victim of mistaken identity at an exotic resort casino, playing opposite Jane Russell. Otto Preminger's Angel Face was the first of three collaborations between Mitchum and British stage actress Jean Simmons. In this film, she played an insane heiress who plans to use young ambulance driver Mitchum to kill for her.

Mitchum was fired from Blood Alley (1955), due to his conduct, reportedly having thrown the film's transportation manager into San Francisco Bay. According to Sam O'Steen's memoir Cut to the Chase, Mitchum showed up on-set after a night of drinking and tore apart a studio office when they did not have a car ready for him. Mitchum walked off the set of the third day of filming Blood Alley, claiming he could not work with the director. Because Mitchum was showing up late and behaving erratically, producer John Wayne, after failing to obtain Humphrey Bogart as a replacement, took over the role himself.

Following a series of conventional Westerns and films noirs, as well as the Marilyn Monroe vehicle River of No Return (1954), Mitchum appeared in Charles Laughton's only film as director: The Night of the Hunter (1955). Based on a novel by Davis Grubb, the thriller starred Mitchum as a monstrous criminal posing as a preacher to find money hidden by his cellmate in the cellmate's home. His performance as Reverend Harry Powell is considered by many to be one of the best of his career.[15][16] Stanley Kramer's melodrama Not as a Stranger, also released in 1955, was a box-office hit. The film starred Mitchum against type, as an idealistic young doctor, who marries an older nurse (Olivia de Havilland), only to question his morality many years later. However, the film was not well received, with most critics pointing out that Mitchum, Frank Sinatra, and Lee Marvin were all too old for their characters. Olivia de Havilland received top billing over Mitchum and Sinatra.

On March 8, 1955, Mitchum formed DRM (Dorothy and Robert Mitchum) Productions to produce five films for United Artists; four films were produced. The first film was Bandido (1956). Following a succession of average Westerns and the poorly received Foreign Intrigue (1956), Mitchum starred in the first of three films with Deborah Kerr. The John Huston war drama Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison, starred Mitchum as a Marine corporal shipwrecked on a Pacific Island with a nun, Sister Angela (Deborah Kerr), as his sole companion. In this character study, they struggle to resist the elements and the invading Japanese army. The film was nominated for two Academy Awards, including Best Actress and Best Adapted Screenplay. For his role, Mitchum was nominated for a BAFTA Award for Best Foreign Actor. In the WWII submarine classic The Enemy Below (1956), Mitchum gave a strong performance as U.S. Naval Lieutenant Commander Murrell, the captain of a U.S. Navy destroyer who matches wits with a German U-boat captain Curt Jurgens, who starred with Mitchum again in the legendary 1962 movie The Longest Day. The film won an Oscar for Special Effects.

Thunder Road (1958), the second DRM Production, was loosely based on an incident in which a driver transporting moonshine was said to have fatally crashed on Kingston Pike in Knoxville, Tennessee, somewhere between Bearden Hill and Morrell Road. According to Metro Pulse writer Jack Renfro, the incident occurred in 1952 and may have been witnessed by James Agee, who passed the story on to Mitchum. He starred in the movie, produced, co-wrote the screenplay, and is rumored to have directed much of the film. It costars his son James, as his on screen brother, in a role originally intended for Elvis Presley. Mitchum also co-wrote (with Don Raye) the theme song, "The Ballad of Thunder Road".

He returned to Mexico for The Wonderful Country (1959) and Ireland for A Terrible Beauty/The Night Fighters for the last of his DRM Productions.

Mitchum and Kerr reunited for the Fred Zinnemann film, The Sundowners (1960), where they played husband and wife struggling in Depression-era Australia. Opposite Mitchum, Kerr was nominated for yet another Academy Award for Best Actress, while the film was nominated for a total of five Oscars. Mitchum was awarded that year's National Board of Review award for Best Actor for his performance. The award also recognized his superior performance in the Vincente Minnelli Western drama Home from the Hill (also 1960). He was teamed with former leading ladies Kerr and Simmons, as well as Cary Grant, for the Stanley Donen comedy The Grass Is Greener the same year.

Mitchum's performance as the menacing rapist Max Cady in Cape Fear (1962) brought him further renown for playing cold, predatory characters. The 1960s were marked by a number of lesser films and missed opportunities. Among the films Mitchum passed on during the decade were John Huston's The Misfits (the last film of its stars Clark Gable and Marilyn Monroe), the Academy Award–winning Patton, and Dirty Harry. The most notable of his films in the decade included the war epics The Longest Day (1962) and Anzio (1968), the Shirley MacLaine comedy-musical What a Way to Go! (1964), and the Howard Hawks Western El Dorado (1967), a remake of Rio Bravo (1959), in which Mitchum took over Dean Martin's role of the drunk who comes to the aid of John Wayne. He teamed with Martin for the 1968 Western 5 Card Stud, playing a homicidal preacher.

One of the lesser-known aspects of Mitchum's career was his foray into music as a singer. Critic Greg Adams writes, "Unlike most celebrity vocalists, Robert Mitchum actually had musical talent." Mitchum's voice was often used instead of that of a professional singer when his character sang in his films. Notable productions featuring Mitchum's own singing voice included Rachel and the Stranger, River of No Return, and The Night of the Hunter. After hearing traditional calypso music and meeting artists such as Mighty Sparrow and Lord Invader while filming Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison in the Caribbean islands of Tobago, he recorded Calypso – is like so ... in March 1957. On the album, released through Capitol Records, he emulated the calypso sound and style, even adopting the style's unique pronunciations and slang. A year later, he recorded a song he had written for Thunder Road, titled "The Ballad of Thunder Road". The country-style song became a modest hit for Mitchum, reaching number 69 on the Billboard Pop Singles chart. The song was included as a bonus track on a successful reissue of Calypso ... and helped market the film to a wider audience.

Although Mitchum continued to use his singing voice in his film work, he waited until 1967 to record his follow-up record, That Man, Robert Mitchum, Sings. The album, released by Nashville-based Monument Records, took him further into country music, and featured songs similar to "The Ballad of Thunder Road". "Little Old Wine Drinker Me", the first single, was a top-10 hit at country radio, reaching number nine there, and crossed over onto mainstream radio, where it peaked at number 96. Its follow-up, "You Deserve Each Other", also charted on the Billboard Country Singles chart. He sang the title song to the Western Young Billy Young, made in 1969.

Mitchum made a departure from his typical screen persona with the 1970 David Lean film Ryan's Daughter, in which he starred as Charles Shaughnessy, a mild-mannered schoolmaster in World War I–era Ireland. At the time of filming, Mitchum was going through a personal crisis and planned to commit suicide. Aside from a personal crisis, his recent films had been critical and commercial flops. Screenwriter Robert Bolt told him that he could commit suicide after the film was finished and that he would personally pay for his burial. Though the film was nominated for four Academy Awards (winning two) and Mitchum was much publicized as a contender for a Best Actor nomination, he was not nominated. George C. Scott won the award for his performance in Patton, a project Mitchum had rejected for Ryan's Daughter.

The 1970s featured Mitchum in a number of well-received crime dramas. The Friends of Eddie Coyle (1973) had the actor playing an aging Boston hoodlum caught between the Feds and his criminal friends. Sydney Pollack's The Yakuza (1974) transplanted the typical film noir story arc to the Japanese underworld. He also appeared in 1976's Midway about an epic 1942 World War II battle. Mitchum's stint as an aging Philip Marlowe in the Raymond Chandler adaptation Farewell, My Lovely (1975) was sufficiently well received by audiences and critics for him to reprise the role in 1978's The Big Sleep.

In 1982, Mitchum played Coach Delaney in the film adaptation of playwright/actor Jason Miller's 1973 Pulitzer Prize-winning play That Championship Season.

At the premiere for That Championship Season, Mitchum, while intoxicated, assaulted a female reporter and threw a basketball that he was holding (a prop from the film) at a female photographer from Time magazine, injuring her neck and knocking out two of her teeth. She sued him for $30 million for damages. The suit eventually "cost him his salary from the film."

That Championship Season may have indirectly led to another debacle for Mitchum several months later. In a February 1983 Esquire interview, he made several racist, anti-Semitic and sexist statements, including, when asked if the Holocaust occurred, responded "so the Jews say." Following the widespread negative response, he apologized a month later, saying that his statements were "prankish" and "foreign to my principle." He claimed that the problem had begun when he recited a racist monologue from his role in That Championship Season, the writer believing the words to be his own. Mitchum, who claimed that he had only reluctantly agreed to the interview, then decided to "string... along" the writer with even more incendiary statements.

Mitchum expanded to television work with the 1983 miniseries The Winds of War. The big-budget Herman Wouk story aired on ABC, starring Mitchum as naval officer "Pug" Henry and Victoria Tennant as Pamela Tudsbury, and examined the events leading up to America's involvement in World War II. He returned to the role in 1988's War and Remembrance, which continued the story through the end of the war.

In 1984, Mitchum entered the Betty Ford Center in Palm Springs, California for treatment of a drinking problem.

He played George Hazard's father-in-law in the 1985 miniseries North and South, which also aired on ABC.

Mitchum starred opposite Wilford Brimley in the 1986 made-for-TV movie Thompson's Run. A hardened con (Mitchum), being transferred from a federal penitentiary to a Texas institution to finish a life sentence as a habitual criminal, is freed at gunpoint by his niece (played by Kathleen York). The cop (Brimley) who was transferring him, and has been the con's lifelong friend and adversary for over 30 years, vows to catch the twosome.

In 1987, Mitchum was the guest-host on Saturday Night Live, where he played private eye Philip Marlowe for the last time in the parody sketch, "Death Be Not Deadly". The show ran a short comedy film he made (written and directed by his daughter, Trina) called Out of Gas, a mock sequel to Out of the Past. (Jane Greer reprised her role from the original film.) He also was in Bill Murray's 1988 comedy film, Scrooged.

In 1991, Mitchum was given a lifetime achievement award from the National Board of Review of Motion Pictures, in the same year he received the Telegatto award and in 1992 the Cecil B. DeMille Award from the Golden Globe Awards.

Mitchum continued to act in films until the mid-1990s, such as in Jim Jarmusch's Dead Man, and he narrated the Western Tombstone. He also appeared, in contrast to his role as the antagonist in the original, as a protagonist police detective in Martin Scorsese's remake of Cape Fear, but the actor gradually slowed his workload. His last film appearance was a small but pivotal role in the television biopic, James Dean: Race with Destiny, playing Giant director George Stevens. His last starring role was in the 1995 Norwegian movie Pakten.

A lifelong heavy smoker, Mitchum died on July 1, 1997, in Santa Barbara, California, due to complications of lung cancer and emphysema. He was about five weeks shy of his 80th birthday. His body was cremated and his ashes scattered at sea, though there is a plot marker in the Odd Fellows Cemetery in Delaware. He was survived by his wife of 57 years, Dorothy Mitchum (May 2, 1919 – April 12, 2014, Santa Barbara, California, aged 94); his sons, actors James Mitchum and Christopher Mitchum; and his daughter, writer Petrine Day Mitchum. His grandchildren, Bentley Mitchum and Carrie Mitchum, are actors, as was his younger brother, John, who died in 2001. Another grandson, Kian, is a successful model.

Mitchum is regarded by some critics as one of the finest actors of the Golden Age of Hollywood. Roger Ebert called him "the soul of film noir." Mitchum, however, was self-effacing; in an interview with Barry Norman for the BBC about his contribution to cinema, Mitchum stopped Norman in mid flow and in his typical nonchalant style, said, "Look, I have two kinds of acting. One on a horse and one off a horse. That's it." He had also succeeded in annoying some of his fellow actors by voicing his puzzlement at those who viewed the profession as challenging and hard work. He is quoted as having said in the Barry Norman interview that acting was actually very simple and that his job was to "show up on time, know his lines, hit his marks, and go home". Mitchum had a habit of marking most of his appearances in the script with the letters "n.a.r.", which meant "no action required", which critic Dirk Baecker has construed as Mitchum's way of reminding himself to experience the world of the story without acting upon it.

AFI's 100 Years...100 Stars lists Mitchum as the 23rd-greatest male star of classic Hollywood cinema. AFI also recognized his performance as the menacing rapist Max Cady and Reverend Harry Powell as the 28th and 29th greatest screen villains, respectively, of all time as part of AFI's 100 Years...100 Heroes and Villains. He provided the voice of the famous American Beef Council commercials that touted "Beef ... it's what's for dinner", from 1992 until his death.

A "Mitchum's Steakhouse" is in Trappe, Maryland, where Mitchum and his family lived from 1959 to 1965.

[thebaumlawfirm]

Visit Here : https://baumlawfirm.com/

[penelope-darcy]

Name: Penelope “Penny” Victoria Darcy Birthday: May 11, 1990 Hometown: Los Angeles, California Career: Assistant District Attorney Relationship Status: Widowed

Bio

TW: car accident, death

.Penelope Victoria Nelson was born on a warm spring day to two people who are CEOs of a jet company. It made Penelope become a trust fund baby, getting anything and everything she wanted with a blink of an eye. However, Penny didn’t like being that kind of child. She spent her time helping at a senior center and different shelters. She always felt she was meant to help people instead of following her parents’ footsteps. As much as she loved her parents and who they were, she felt that their attention was never truly on her. She felt as though she had the nanny raised her, and it showed when she could call her nanny “mom.” With her nanny telling her that she didn’t have to follow her parents into their field, Penny felt a slight freedom to do what she wants with her own life.

So, that’s what she did. Besides volunteering, she donated her own money to different fundraisers. Even thought people assumed that she was stuck up by the private school uniform and fancy clothes/bags, she was truly outgoing and caring to people. Penny’s goals were to become a lawyer, hoping in prosecution, to help people out and getting the justice that she deserved. Especially after seeing the things she did when she volunteered. She truly wanted to make the world better and she wanted to do whatever she could to make that happen.

Penny went to USC to study criminology and psychology, letting herself get into the pre law program. She had her mind set and made the Dean’s list each semester, dedicating herself to her schooling, only partying or having fun when she didn’t have schoolwork to do. Graduating with a 4.0, Penny went into the law school program at USC to study criminal law. While she was getting her bachelor’s, she met a man named Michael Darcy. Michael was also in the pre law program and they hit it off almost immediately. They started dating a week after they met and in their first year of law school, he proposed to her. Although, waiting till they finished law school was not something they wanted to do, which led them to elope and have a wedding when they were done with school.

One day as they were driving to Palm Springs for a nice weekend together, a car plowed into the side of their car, Penny being the driver. While she got away with minor injuries, Michael died immediately on impact. That day changed her life completely and a void filled into her as she realized he was dead. It also led to survivor’s guilt, not really wanting to live for a period of time. However, she knew that he would want her to keep going and be happy, so she finished law school and passed the board. She is now in therapy for PTSD to help her handle what happened and try to live as normal of a life as possible.

Not wanting to live in LA anymore, due to the memories, Penny decided to pick up and move to Catalina Island where she felt she could start fresh. She got a job as an assistant district attorney at twenty seven and she loves her job to the core. As she made this town her home, she bought a house last year, where she lives with her Yorkie mix, Janis. She still keeps a part of Michael with her, wearing their wedding rings around her neck as a necklace. She is slowly working to move on and try to be happy with someone else, but it scares her at the same time.

Personality

When you first see Penny, you automatically think she’s a stuck up woman with her name brand clothes and accessories. However, once you get to know her, she’s really friendly, smart and cares about everyone around her. She tries to not take life too seriously, knowing that her late husband would want her to relax and have fun. Penny does have a wall up because of the car accident and goes to therapy for PTSD. She still blames herself to this day.

[webcricket]

Looking Glass

Chapter 5 - An Olive Branch

Pairing: CastielXAU!Reader

Word Count: 3088

Summary: Impromptu peace talks commence between the reader and Castiel just in time for the return of the Winchesters.

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Sat at the kitchen bench with a mug of room temperature black brew on the table before him – untouched, but within reach of his fingertips where he first placed it upon sitting – Castiel stares without seeing at the local section of a Lebanon Times newspaper he found in the library so old the color of the paper borders on the pale yellow of ripening corn.

There’s a scout troop featured; a motley crew of pre-teens forever frozen in photograph form cleaning up a park on a sunny spring Sunday to celebrate Earth Day. The same jaundiced pig-tailed child – designated as Cindy M. of Kansas City, Brownie Troop 271 in byline – has been fishing with outstretched fingers for a castoff Styrofoam cup beneath a hedge for the past two hours. The report doesn’t indicate that the piece of litter ever made the short jaunt into the garbage bag clutched in her other hand that she drags behind where she poses in stooped smiling perpetuity for the picture – another of life’s unanswered mysteries; not that Cas is currently pondering said mystery.

The angel’s ears perk to the sound of your barefoot heels plodding in the hallway in gradual but steady approach. Evidently you’ve finished your investigation of the premises or, determining an escape attempt is impossible, given up. In either case, he hopes you didn’t find something more lethally effective than kitchen stuffs, brute bare-handed force, or unbarred emotion coincidentally thrumming an inner nerve of truth to wound him with; every such angelically injurious object he is aware of in the bunker is under lock and key excepting his personal blade.

There’s a chance he overlooked an unknown item in a dusty storage bin that you succeeded in unearthing in your explorations; it would be consistent with his luck – good fortune demarcated by a fundamental lack thereof. It would also be consistent with his epically bad week – an already rough run of ill fate since his expulsion from the Empty exacerbated by Lucifer’s continued liberty, the resurrection, rescue, and subsequent high-tailing from commitment to creation of his brother Gabriel, an unnerving run-in with Naomi, the angel agent of much of his enduring grief, and then learning that Heaven is one or two celestial lights gone dark removed from permanent and catastrophic foreclosure; and, of course, there’s the latest complication of you.

In an effort to appear unruffled given your imminent arrival, he readjusts his posture; straightening his sloping spine and, for reasons of unacknowledged self-conscious impulsivity, the skewed knot of his tie, he redoubles his blind examination of the newspaper. The resulting effect lends itself to one of a spring coiled to maximum tension ready to fly off at the slightest disturbance. He flips the page with an exaggerated rustle to prove his utter indifference to your presence when you halt at the entryway and hesitate to crossover the door jamb to descend the two steps into the space he occupies.

Hyperaware, you freeze in suspense of animation to observe the scene like a bird cornered after tumbling down a chimney and emerging indoors without the familiar freedom of the sky in sight. His similarly caged reaction fascinates you considering you’re the one trapped in an underground maze with locked exits and disorientated by the kidnapping slash plummet down a rabbit hole into an alternate universe; that is, if he’s to be believed – and it’s still a big if according to your muddled wits. At least the lark about being in a bunker appears to hold up under thorough examination.

In a preening motion, you brush the pad of your thumb over the glossy slip of a photo you discovered and hid in the roll of the oversized sweatshirt sleeve encasing your right wrist; you’ll soon see if his story stands up to closer scrutiny. You allow the angel has every reason to be edgy; you’ve physically assailed him – granted without any lasting consequences – twice. For all he knows, the third time’s the charm. You decide his increasing unease with each confrontation does lend a linear sense of credibility to the reality of the situation.

The bitter aroma of burned coffee tickles your nose. The coffee maker ceased percolating the beverage some time ago; left on, it has boiled down the liquid into pure caffeine concentrate. The heady result smells like welcome lucidity after your wanderings and ferries your feet of their own volition down the stairs and to the counter. You help yourself to a mug of the stuff. Gripping the heat radiant porcelain between your palms, lips pursed to blow a cooling breath across the russet shimmering surface, you recommence watching the wary angel.

Sensing your protracted silent stare, he makes a grand gesture of flicking to a new page and folding it in half with a noisier-than-necessary shake to examine with great interest through a narrowed gaze an advert at the bottom for a law firm boasting attorneys specializing in personal, automotive, and work-site injury related litigation – seems convincingly relevant given the prevailing impasse between you two.

You clear your throat just to be sure he knows you know you have his surreptitious attention despite the display to the contrary.

If it’s possible – and evidently it is possible – he stiffens further. Still, he maintains the charade of ignoring you.

You liked him better when he was playing considerate host to your starring role as ungrateful violence-prone guest. This – this total impassivity – lacks definition; it’s missing sharp edges for you to remonstrate bodily and emotionally against. It simply won’t do.

“So, I’m guessing it was you that healed me?” you ask the loaded question as though you’re two acquaintances making small talk. Bringing the mug’s rim to your mouth, you suck a small sip and swirl the acrid swill over your tongue; it wants sugar, but you’re simultaneously certain no amount of sweetness could save it.

“That depends,” he answers without tearing his squint from the faded newsprint in order to deliberately avoid fully engaging you in whatever verbal skirmish you’re trying to instigate.

“On?” Since he refuses to grace you with a gaze, you aim the query at the back of his head; his hair explodes from his scalp in an unruly collection of loose chestnut curls – not a Nazi-esque grease-tamed coif indicative of extreme control issues.

“On whether or not my answering affirmatively will aggravate you.” There it is – the steel of sharpened blade you want lashes out in the form of spoken sass; the gloves, so-to-speak, are off.

Recollecting the black leather gloved fingers of the other one of him, you cringe at the metaphor conjured by your mind and swallow the chafing memory along with a second sip of God-awful coffee. In comparison to the interactions with your arson-aficionado interrogator, this angelic iteration is positively charming. It’s the first time the two of them seem separate entities to you. There’s something distinctly softer about the seraph in front of you – the blunt of benevolence, rather than thorny malevolence, gilding his halo.

You round the table and drop onto the opposite bench into his lowered line of sight. Propping your elbows on the top, you extend a hand to rudely swat the paper out of his grasp. “Since when do angels care about how humans feel?”

He lifts his eyes to meet yours; a degree of doneness dulls the blue.

You can’t tell if he’s done specifically dealing with you, or just generally done.

The besieged intake of his breath is audible. He holds the lungful of air, mouth thin and tense, reluctant to offer any explanation for you to twist around as a weapon to stab into him in wordy retribution. Finally, mostly to dissuade your skeptical stare and his resultant discomfort, he grumbles, “I don’t want to quarrel with you. Your mind, it’s . . . in a very fragile state.”

“I feel fine,” you fib to armor your weakness. Abandoning your mug, inclining backward, you slide your arms to encircle your sides and shrug. Forget the fatigue – your brain feels like it’s being drawn and quartered through your ears with a winch. Any effrontery on your part at this point is a bluff, but you’ve learned the difference between life and death often relies on the lie.

“You’re not fine.” In a reverse of your retreating body language, he sets his elbows on the table and leans forward, tone scolding. “You nearly died. You need to take it easy. I can’t help you recover if you insist on acting so . . . combative. This may come as a stark surprise to you, but as long as you aren’t suffering physically in a manner I can mend, the persistence of your foul mood is the least pressing of my concerns. There are more important matters at hand.”

He’s not wrong; and if you’re not mistaken, he’s expressed a continued – impatient, yet nonetheless there – concern for your well-being despite his frustration. He’s unlike any angel you’ve ever encountered. You glower at him for a lengthy minute. Somewhere thirty seconds or so into the hushed trade of glares you decide to accept the roundabout articulated truce he offered. You give yourself a superfluous thirty additional seconds to change your mind, but it seems set on a conciliatory course for the moment. You reach out to retrieve your coffee and muse into the liquid before drinking a gulp. “You don’t talk like an angel.”

Mouth relaxing into soft pink pout, he assents to the cordial shift of atmosphere implied in the statement. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was an observation,” you correct, filtering another swig of brown sludge through your teeth. “What you said before, about me not being from this world – it’s true?”

“It’s true.” He bobs his chin once.

You admire the scruff of beard shadowing his strong jaw; he’s remarkably handsome when he isn’t a monster trying to massacre you from the inside out. Shy of the superficial attraction, you avert your eyes to the neglected newspaper at center of the table. “And Michael, he’s trying to destroy this world, too?”

“You heard my conversation with Dean.” It’s not as though he made any effort to cover it up standing directly outside the door you were barricaded behind.

Your pupils widen with a surge of fear when you look up at him. “You said it was safe here. Nowhere Michael wants to be is safe.”

A slouch curves his spine as he sinks back into the chair. “Then I suppose, strictly speaking, that makes it less safe here than I initially suggested.”

Hugging your arms to your chest to subdue a rising shiver, your fingertips touch the photograph you found. The angel passes your provisional litmus test thus far, but your curiosity remains unabated; and it’s a distraction from the shattered illusion of safety. You withdraw the photo from the confines of the sleeve’s fabric, place it on the table, and slide it toward him with your pointer finger. “That’s you, Bobby Singer, Ellen and Jo, and the other two men I don’t know.”

You met Bobby Singer once, and immediately you understood him to be a rightfully paranoid man who doesn’t surround himself with, as he likes to say, ‘Idjits!’ He’s supposed to be in Dayton where you were headed before this detour. And Ellen and Jo are no different; dauntless women, at least the last you heard of them, daring a bid to cross the wastelands of Texas to breach the wall south of the states with a band of survivors in search of elusive safety. If they associated with this angel – and they did according to the pictorial evidence – you want to know the reason.

Cas slants his neck to better peer at the picture although he knows the details well – it’s the black and white snapshot commemorating the night before the day he joined Bobby, Ellen, Jo, and the brothers to confront the devil to prevent this world’s apocalypse; the day he chose humanity’s cause over Heaven – over himself. He gathers you must have found the keepsake in the top drawer of his desk – one of only a few mementos he saves. Catching the corner of the photo, he spins it and glides it nearer. Unlike the mystery of Cindy M. of Kansas City and her discarded cup, there’s no guessing at the fate of the people frozen there in time; a minute wistful smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“How do you know them? Have you been to my world before? Who are the other men?” Biting your lower lip, you stop yourself at three successive rapid-fire questions; you have many more.

The smile fades from his expression; his blues, sheened with sadness, rise to regard you. “Many of the same entities, human and angel, inhabit both worlds. These two men you don’t know, they’re the brothers Sam and Dean Winchester. We know destiny didn’t deign for them to exist in your world. But in this one, they stopped the apocalypse from happening.”

“And Bobby, Ellen, and Jo?”

“I think of them as friends. I like to think they felt the same comradery. Brave and selfless souls all.” Eyes darting down, he taps each of their anxiously smiling faces in turn. “They played their parts, courageous to the last.”

“Played. So they’re-”

He looks up, cutting you off with the straightforward location of their mortal souls. “In Heaven.” He doesn’t add the, ‘For now, for as long as Heaven is able to hold itself together.’

In the requisite respectful interlude of a quiet few seconds to honor the memory of the dearly departed, it occurs to you that if there were more than one of all of them, then there may be another of you in this world; and if there’s a you, then perhaps there’s the family you lost in yours. With this nascent knowledge of the possibility you could see your loved ones again, you begin to comprehend why the angel and his friends so adamantly want to keep you contained here in the bunker; and also, why you must get out.

Noticing the intense interest of the angel’s eyes tracing the contemplative lines of your features, you deflect the thought lest he eavesdrop. “Why do you keep the photograph then? You’re an angel, you could see them anytime you like.”

He looks at his lap, self-conscious of the personal query – he never really considered the why of saving the photo; it seemed then and seems now natural to him to retain it. “I suppose you’d call it sentimentality,” he redirects, defaulting to the reason a human would hoard such an article.

Undeterred, captivated by an angel exhibiting flashes of actual emotion, especially genuine empathy for and affectionate attachment to humans, you reformulate. “And what would you call it?”

Weaving his fingers together, he snorts lightly through his nose – this time the small emergent smile is a disingenuous sardonic spasm of lip to mask manifest pain; you’ve touched upon another nerve, and one still raw judging by his reaction. “I’ve been told it’s an inherent weakness,” he mutters.

“Now you sound like an angel.” The statement is an impulse you instantly regret – an instinct to inflict pain upon this exposed and vulnerable piece of him like he hurt you. Only, it wasn’t this him.

“I am an angel.” His voice is an indignant rasped whisper; his wounded affect accentuated by a dim of hurt hazing his eyes. It’s a conflicting sentiment – an angel who appreciates not being likened to his kin in mannerism and yet nonetheless fiercely identifies as one of them.

The contradiction piques your curiosity. You want, no, need to know the honest reason a billion odd year old being hangs on to this specific sliver of his history. “You’re avoiding answering me,” you pry, “why do you keep it? You.”

His thick lashes shutter as he looks inward. He sighs, “Perhaps to remind me of the choice I made then.”

“What choice was that?”

“I chose the path of free will – to decide for myself what is right and not have destiny dictated to me by others.”

“And what did you decide is right?”

After a leaden pause, his eyes blink open and settle on you – they shine an impossibly vibrant blue to your mute color adjusted vision; you’re sure even the summer sky of your distant sweltering memories never shone so clear and endless. His reply is earnest – honest. “I’m still trying to determine the answer,” he confesses. It’s a deep-seated insecurity he has never told another soul – something he has been afraid to admit aloud, something he maybe didn’t fathom himself until you asked him why and pried the answer through the regret-reinforced ramparts shielding his heart.

You sense the significance of the admission and in return gift him the one thing about yourself that in revelation might hold equally substantial meaning for him. “Y/N.”

“What?”

“My name,” you repeat, “it’s Y/N.” It’s an apology, too, for your earlier antics.

The angel’s pensive expression floods with a lightness of realization. He gets it – you’re proposing a fresh start. You’ve met now on a common ground; laying bare a patchwork of jagged scars and bloody wounds alike, you’ve uncovered two drifters, equally lost in their respective worlds searching for something good in the bad. Hoping – still hoping it exists.

A subtle smile quirks his cheek. “My friends call me-”

“Cas!” Dean’s well-timed shout resounds from the kitchen threshold. He tilts his head politely toward you in toothy grinned greeting. “Hey sweetheart!” Wagging a finger between you and the angel, the grin broadens on his freckled face. “Well, isn’t this cozy. Nice civilized tea for two and not a meat cleaver in sight.” He winks a jewel of glinting green at Cas. “I told you apologies work wonders, didn’t I?”

Sam looms over Dean’s shoulder and furnishes you with a curt nod as he lumbers past his brother. “Glad to see you up and about. Cas was pretty worried there about whether or not you’d ever wake up at all. We all felt terrible having to leave you here alone – you find my notes?”

Dean mutters something unintelligible under his breath about stupid freaking notes and wanders over to the fridge, visibly relieved to find it stocked with beer.

You eye the anomalous angel – pretty worried, indeed.  A smile eases into the curves and creases of your mouth as he makes the formal introductions.

“Sam, Dean, this is Y/N.” His blues alight on your marveling gaze. “Y/N, these are the Winchesters.”

Next: Ch. 6 - Healing Touch

[christyholstege-blog]

I’m Running for Assembly Delegate to the California Democratic Party.

California Democratic Party Assembly Delegate Elections

Elections for Assembly District 42 Delegates and for the Executive Board will take place Saturday, January 26 at the Women’s Club Banning at 

175 Hayes Street, Banning, CA 92220

Doors open at 11:00 AM

Candidate Speeches begin at 11:30 AM followed by registration to vote.

Voting will take place between 12:00 PM and 2:00 PM

This is an important election! Please come out and vote so you will be well represented at the California Democratic Convention.

The delegates that win this election will vote on our behalf and choose who the party endorses for President of the United States in 2020 and the policies and initiatives that we support in future elections. We want to elect candidates who represent Palm Springs values and California values. 

I am running for delegate and I ask for your vote, so that I can represent our region and continue representing our values. Read my candidate statement here: 

Feel free to email me at christyholstege@gmail.com if you have any questions about the event.

Democracy belongs to those that show up. I hope you'll join me. 

Here is my candidate statement in full: 

I was elected to Palm Springs City Council in November 2017 as the first millennial, as the first out bisexual candidate, and as part of the first all-LGBTQ city council in the nation. I received endorsements from Congressman Raul Ruiz, Riverside County Supervisor Manuel Perez, Assemblymember Eduardo Garcia, Planned Parenthood Action Fund of the Pacific Southwest, Equality California, Victory Fund, Desert Stonewall Democrats, Democrats of the Desert, Democratic Women of the Desert,  the Riverside County Democratic Party, the Central Labor Council, and the Sierra Club.

I ran a true grassroots campaign to bring the power of local government to the people. I mobilized dozens of volunteers and we contacted over 7000 voters.

On City Council, I work on affordable housing, homelessness, sustainability, and economic development. I also serve as the vice chair for the regional Coachella Valley Association of Governments' homelessness taskforce and on statewide policy committees for the League of California Cities.

I also work full-time as a poverty law attorney and I focus my practice serving people with disabilities, LGBTQ people, homeless individuals, injured workers, personal injury victims, and victims of discrimination and violence.

Prior to being elected to Palm Springs City Council, I earned a Stanford Law School Fellowship and established a legal aid clinic for domestic violence survivors. I also represented farmworkers in civil rights, housing, and employment litigation at California Rural Legal Assistance in Coachella. I earned a J.D. from Stanford Law School and a B.A. in Cultural Anthropology from U.C. Santa Barbara.

In my political capacity, I have supported and mentored other democratic candidates for local offices from Corona to Coachella, building a pipeline of progressive political leaders of the future, especially women, LGBTQ candidates, working people, and people of color underrepresented throughout the state. I am also working to connect and organize other progressive local elected officials into networks so that we can continue the blue wave into the future at all levels of government.

I am running as a delegate to continue to build up and strengthen the political power of democrats in our region. I ask for your vote so that I can join our incredible political leaders and represent our assembly district.

Christy Gilbert Holstege

For AD-42 Delegate

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