#Joseph Randolph imagines

[darchildre]

Final comments on The Case of Charles Dexter Ward:

1) Dr Willett's journey through the darkened labyrinth beneath Curwen's farmhouse/bungalow is genuinely really good. The descriptions of the spaces and the horrible things in them are really effective.

Until you get to the bit where Willett is frightened beyond endurance and the narration tells us that he "screamed and screamed and screamed." It doesn't work, and it just feels silly.

Howie. Howard Phillips. I know that your pockets are at all times filled with ridiculous spooky words. Please use a couple.

2) Also we learned that Willett is friends with Randolph Carter? I mean, okay, sure. Why not, right?

Charles Dexter Ward was written (and this bit is set) after "The Silver Key", so Dr Willett has just had a rash of weird/spooky things happening to his friends. Poor dude.

3) There is a kind of fictional character I really love, which is "guy who is really good at One Particular Thing, and really truly terrible at Literally Everything Else", eg Griffin Invisibleman. Joseph Curwen is also very much that dude and I love him immensely.

He is really very good at necromancy! He managed to cause an exact doppelganger descendant of himself to be born and influence that descendant into finding his notes and reanimating Curwen, as well as all the other necromancy he was already doing - that's very impressive!

But he is very bad at everything that isn't necromancy:

Kept living in the same town while constantly looking 30 for over 50 years

Could not remember to write letters to his necromancer friends using the correct pseudonyms

Wildly overestimated the control he had over his necromantic subjects and blew himself up

His big plan once he's alive again? "Wear a fake beard and glasses until I've murdered my descendant, then simply move back into my old house." Oh my god, Joseph, just leave Providence.

Has no idea what's going on with modern finances in general and Charles' finances in particular. Nearly gets caught because he keeps writing checks in Charles' name when their handwriting is completely and recognizably different.

"Surely the fact that I still talk like a dude from the 1760s will not hinder me in the slightest!"

Hilariously, all his necromancer friends also think he's bad at this, because they keep writing him letters full of helpful advice and reminding him that they went a whole 150 years without dying after he blew himself up, so maybe he should chill a little and listen.

(He does not.)

Like, he is also absolutely the worst, but I do adore him and his dumb fake beard.

4) Curwen's disreputable Portuguese servant gets called Tony, which means that his name was probably Antone like all of my maternal male relatives who emigrated to New England from Portugal. This is why I tell people I have Innsmouth blood. (He's a Gomes too, which is not a major part of my family tree but is in there. We're probably related.)

5) I had wildly misremembered Curwen's whole deal and thought this was a possession story, not a doppelganger story. I blame The Haunted Palace, honestly (which legit is a possession story and which I have watched several more times than I have read this book).

It's a fun adaptation, but Roger Corman was missing out. Just imagine - we could have had two Vincents Price, only one of them is wearing, like, a goofy fake beard over his real beard.

6) If there was a more accurate film adaptation, the bit at the end where Curwen is once more reduced to a pile of Essential Saltes on the floor is absolutely set up for someone (Orne and Hutchinson? I didn't see the bodies) to gather up that dust for the sequel.

Honestly, once you get past the travelogue section, this book is really quite fun. I'm very glad I revisited it.

And now it's time for "Shadow Over Innsmouth"! Yay!

[bluejaysandblackbats]

An Oyster's Pearl

Fandom: DC Comics

Summary: Shortly after moving in with Joseph Wilson, Grant Wilson makes friends with a fellow pledge for a fraternity. During this time, Grant grapples with realizations about his childhood trauma, his sexuality, and his relationships with his father and siblings.

Chapters: 12/?

Characters: Grant Wilson, Joseph Wilson, Rose Wilson, Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson, William Randolph Wintergreen, Original Character(s)

Relationships: Grant Wilson/Original Character, DickJoey

Additional Tags: University AU, No Capes AU, Angst, Deaf Joseph Wilson, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Grant Wilson has a Sexuality Crisis, Frat Boy Grant Wilson

Chapter Twelve: Flock

I heard Rose crying in the middle of the night while I worked on my homework, and I barged into Joey's room to see if she was okay. She tossed and turned in bed. I crept in and draped a heavier blanket over her, waiting for her to wake up. Her eyes opened and filled with tears, and I let her hug me. "It's okay, Rosie. I've got you," I reassured her. She gasped and sobbed. "Everything's okay, Rose. You're okay." I wiped away her tears before flashing a smile at her.

"You—. You were—." I shook my head.

"No, we're all okay. We're okay," I whispered. Rose nodded with me as I maintained eye contact. "Here, you wanna sit with me while I finish my paper?"

Rose nodded, and I took a blanket and followed her to the living room. She lay next to me on the couch, and I threw the blanket over her. "Did I wake you up?" Rose asked. I shook my head. She took me off guard. We'd never had her stay the night, and I was surprised to see she looked like a little kid when she was half-asleep. I messed up Rose's hair, and she looked up at me.

"I've been up the whole time... Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked. I hoped she'd say no, but I wanted to allow her to talk if she needed to. It's what Joey would've done. Rose shook her head.

"Can I have the rest of your soda?" Rose asked.

"That's a beer. No. And you owe me twenty dollars from the other night," I joked. She laughed.

"How come you don't let me drink beer?" Rose asked. "You used to let Joey drink beers when he was underage."

"Because I was underage too. Joey swore he'd tell if I didn't... Sucks to be the baby, doesn't it?" I teased. She kicked me. "I'll let you skip school tomorrow, though."

"What's the catch?" Rose asked. I grinned.

"Sit in on my classes with me tomorrow?" I suggested. Rose nodded as she closed her eyes. "I'm glad I met you at a less annoying age. Imagine if you were six or something. I wouldn't know what to do with you."

"You don't want kids?" Rose asked.

"What do I need kids for when I have you two assholes?" I joked. Silence fell between us for a while. "Joey might have kids someday. Kinda thought he'd have kids with Red when I met her last year."

"Kole?" Rose asked. I made a soft noise. "You couldn't have been bothered to learn her name?"

"I only met her once before they broke up. You ever—?" Rose's snoring interrupted me. I turned her on her side so she'd shut up, and I finished my paper a few hours later. I fell asleep on the other side of the sofa and woke up to the sound of my alarm. Rose turned it off and swatted my feet away.

"Gross," Rose mumbled as she sat up. "Can I borrow a jacket?"

"Yeah, but not my blue and yellow one and not the red one... What is it? Pajama day?" I asked.

She walked toward my room waving her hands above her head sarcastically. "You're sounding an awful lot like a parent and not a big brother right now," Rose teased.

"Sue me for not wanting my sister to embarrass me at school," I half-joked. Rose came out of my room wearing my corduroy jacket. It was too big for her, but I knew she'd be warm, so I didn't say anything. I got dressed for class in my room, and she was dressed and ready to go when I came out. I still had to brush my teeth, so I was halfway to the bathroom when I caught her laughing at me.

"You're covered in hickies, and I'm the embarrassing one?" Rose asked. I cursed as I remembered. "I say you should wear 'em proudly. They match your outfit." I gave her the finger as I went to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and whined about my hickies before taking Rose's advice. I let her drive and stopped by the cafeteria to buy our breakfast.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see Lixin. "This seat taken?" Lixin asked. I shook my head, and he brushed my hand as he sat down. Rose chuckled and shook her head.

"He told me. You don't have to exchange longing glances in secret," Rose announced. I kicked her under the table. "Son of a b—." I widened my eyes threateningly, and she crossed her arms.

Lixin leaned in close and whispered an apology in my ear. "I got carried away the other day... I'm sorry about—." He gestured to his neck. I shrugged it off. "You have every right to be mad—."

"Once I figure out how to explain this to my brother, it'll be okay. I'm not mad at you," I replied. Rose took a sip of my coffee while she thought I was distracted. I had to respect her boldness.

The three of us ate breakfast, and when we were done, we walked to class. I grabbed Lixin's hand and froze as he turned to go inside. Lixin smiled at me, and I gave him a peck on the lips. I quickly let go of his hands and hugged myself out of embarrassment. Lixin lifted my chin with his knuckle. "You're so cute," Lixin giggled. He went to class, and Rose gave me Joey's big shit-eating grin.

"Awww, that was so cute," Rose teased.

"Shut up," I whispered. We sat in the back of the class, and I took notes while Rose doodled in a notebook. It happened to have something to do with my chem class. Rose was a smart kid. She'd told us once before that her mom paid for her to be homeschooled so she could have the best education possible. And let me tell you, not a single dollar of that money went to waste. I didn't know about her upbringing, but I knew she missed her old home.

It was a good thing we stuck around New York, though. It would've been worse for her if she couldn't stay here. Even though I couldn't stand living in the city, I liked being around Joey and Rose. I yawned, and she passed my coffee back to me. I took a sip and gave one of her pigtails a yank. "Cut it out," Rose whispered. I chuckled to myself before returning to my notes. I only had two classes a day, so I wanted to take Rose to the movies afterward.

The movie sucked, but I liked spending time with my sister. I just hated that the kid smoked like a fucking train. Every few hours, she'd smoke a few, and the smell killed me. "Cut that shit out," I mumbled, "It stinks."

"Irritable?" Rose asked.

"No. I think you should cut down on the cigarettes," I replied softly, "Sorry..." The smell irritated me, but it wasn't on her. "When I drop you off at Slade's, will you ask Joey if he's still mad at me?"

Rose squinted at me. "Huh?" she asked.

"You want me to drop you off at Slade's, right?" I questioned.

"That would involve you seeing him. You know that, right?" Rose asked.

"I'm trying to be nice," I replied, "And don't push it... I'm only dropping you off." I wanted to see Slade again, but I didn't want the pressure of speaking to him. That, and I wanted Rose to get home safe.

[kirlias452]

Screw it nobody has done this yet

Joseph Randolph imagine

💉 Is obviously the gentleman type with you.

💉 Calls you ‘my dear’ or ‘dearest’.

💉 Hates seeing you hurt and will patch you up to the best of his abilities.

💉 Is into slow dancing with you.

💉 He’ll try his best to not get you killed in the clinic.

💉 If he ends up mutating and you find him, he’ll try to run away and hide, not wanting you to see him in that state.

💉 Doesn’t mind you sitting in his lap, you just have to not distract him when he does paperwork.

💉 Will let you lay your head on him, he finds it cute.

💉 If you give him a gift, he’ll smile, blush a bit and keep it with him at all times.

[mudaship39]

Alpha Centurion War:

Location:

Laurissa Owen Jones: Planetary County: Battle of Cosmic City: Lori in her black and blue solar suit against Defiant Destroyer (Raquel Mariana Alonzo) in her black and white solar suit and Spectacular Sentinel (Clarissa Patricia Chambers) in her black and red solar suit:

Alexander Mack Smith/Alexandria Macy Smith: Hellfire City, Shadow City, Enigma City, Crypt City of Hellfire County and Haven City:

The Elites, Paragons, & Sentinels at the Elites HQ Base on Earth’s moon Luna:

Earlier:

“We heard your request for assistance Elites we are sending support,” said several voices on the transmissions, “We have sent reinforcements, please stand by,” the voices of Directors of intergalactic black ops and spec ops organizations of the Sol System, Vega System, & Polaris System as all are members of Enigma, Cipher, Shadow, Crypt, Spectre, Void, Arcane, Nether, Spectre, Ghost, Quantum, Libra, Gemini, & Scorpio appeared through the warp pad teleporters to help the Elites, Paragons, & Sentinels. For the directors of such intergalactic deep black compartmentalized classified and top secret organizations with jurisdiction throughout the universe, multiverse, & omniverse imagine people like Director Eliza Danvers of the D.E.O (Department of Extranormal Operations) branch of National City, Director Amanda Waller (who is the Director of Argus, Director of Team 7, Director of Checkmate, Director of the Agency, & the Director of the Suicide Squad), Director Jeremiah Danvers of the D.E.O Headquarters of Washington D.C, Director John Lynch who is Director of Team 7 and the D.E.O Branch in Metropolis, Director Vic Sage of the Suicide Squad). Cobalt Crow and Ruby Raven (commanders of the Elites, Destiny, & the Paragons now that Alex/Lexi has been compromised) with the Paragons and Destiny had arrived to help the Elites. “All of you,” Jonathan Ruslo and Jessica Croft also known as Cobalt Crow and Ruby Raven said to several metahumans of the Elites, Paragons, & Sentinels are with us as the containment team.” For the metahumans of the Elites, Paragons, & Sentinels imagine people like Deathstroke (Slade Joseph Wilson), Adeline Kane Wilson (Deathstroke’s wife), Ravager (Grant Wilson), Ravager (Rose Wilson Worth), Dark Archer (Malcolm Merlyn), Red-X (Zoe Lawton) the daughter of Deadshot (Floyd Lawton), Huntress Prime (Helena Bertinelli), Natas (who trained Deathstroke and Green Arrow), Colonel Steven “Steve” Trevor of Argus and Team 7, Nightwing (Richard John “Dick” Grayson), Oracle (Barbara Joan “Babs” Gordon), Catwoman (Selina Kyle-Wayne), Red Hood (Jason Peter Todd), Red Robin (Timothy Jackson “Tim” Drake), Spoiler (Stephanie “Steph” Brown), Batgirl (Cassandra Cain), Huntress (Helena Kyle-Wayne), Green Arrow (Oliver Jonas “Ollie” Queen), Black Canary (Dinah Laurel Lance-Queen), Red Arrow (Roy William Harper Jr.), Tigress (Artemis Nguyen Crock), Arrowette (Cissie King Jones), Cheshire (Jade Crock Nguyen), Sportsmaster & Huntress (Lawrence Crock and Paula Nguyen Crock who are the supervillain parents of Artemis Nguyen Crock and Jade Crock Nguyen), Harley Quinn (Dr. Harleen Quinzel), Deadshot (Floyd Lawton), Bronze Tiger (Ben Turner), Bushido (Ryoko Orsono), Speedy (Mia Dearden), Arsenal (Emiko Queen), Katana (Tatsu Toro), Captain Boomerang (George Harkness), Rick Flag, Lady Shiva (Sandra Wu-San), David Cain, Talia Al Ghul, Nyssa Al Ghul, White Canary (Sara Lance-Al Ghul), Ra’s Al Ghul, The Sensei, Former Talons of the Court of Owls Calvin Rose and Strix, William Randolph Wintergreen (the person who trained Slade). “Containment, our mission is containment; contain him/her/them (Alexander Mack Smith/Alexander Mack Smith), contain the Behemoth to Crypt City, Shadow City, Hellfire City, & Haven City of Hellfire County but if you can try to stop her/him/them.” “The rest of you on standby, if we fail, focus on stopping Alexander/Alexandria.” “Dean Lucas Chambers, Mason Owen Jones, Carolina Robbins, Lisa Mackenzie, Lola Macias, & Layla Nolan are already on their way to stop Lori.” “This is a two pronged assault, said Katherine Hawkins, “they share a mental link, emotional bond, & spiritual connection so stopping Alex/Lexi stops Lori, stopping Lori stops Mack/Smith.”

 “However if you do fail, then don’t worry for we are here to stop him/her/them,” said Wyatt Headly said, referring to himself and the team sent in the stop Alex/Lexi if containment doesn’t work the superhuman members of the Elites, Paragons, & Sentinels. Imagine people like Hotspot (Isaiah Crocket), Risk (Cody Driscoll), Argent (Antonia Louise “Toni” Monetti), Starfire (Koriand’r), Pantha, Blackfire (Komiand’r), Mas y Menos, Tempest(Garth), Dolphin, Kaldur (Kaldur’ahm or Jackson Hyde), Tula, Narwal (Koryak), Baby Wildebeest, Jericho (Joseph “Joey” Wilson), Kole (Kole Weathers), Red Star (Leonid Konstantinovitch Kovar), Terra (Tara Markov), Dark Raven (Rachel Raven “Rae” Roth), Hawk and Dove Prime (brothers Henry “Hank” Hall and Donald “Don” Hall), Shazam (William “Billy” Joseph Batson), Troia (Donna Hinckley Stacy Troy), Captain Marvel (Frederick Christopher “Freddy” Freeman), Aquagirl (Lorena Marquez), Captain Marvel (Mary Willow Batson), Blue Beetle (Jamie Reyes), Static Shock (Virgil Ovil Hawkins), Zero (Lagoon Boy or La’gaan), Miss Martian (M’gann M’orzz or Megan Morse), Jinx (Jennifer Hex), Zachary Zatara, Reverse Flash (Daniel “Danny” West of the Reverse Flash Family), Reverse Flash (Eobard Thawne of the Reverse Flash Family), Inertia (Thaddeus Thawne of the Reverse Flash Family & clone of Impulse Bart Allen), Zoom (Hunter Zolomon of the Reverse Flash Family), The Rival (Edward Clarris of the Reverse Flash Family), Captain Cold (Leonard Snart), Heatwave (Mick Rory), Impulse (Wallace Rudolph Allen the son of Iris and Barry), The Flash (Jason Peter “Jay” Garrick of the Flash Family), The Flash (Bartholomew Henry “Barry” Allen), The Flash (Iris Ann West-Allen), Impulse (Iris “Irey” West of the Flash Family the daughter of Wally and Linda Park), Jesse Quick (Jesse Belle Chambers of the Flash Family), Belle (Elizabeth “Libby” Belle Lawrence-Chambers the wife of Johnny Quick), Impulse Prime (Bartholomew Henry “Bart” West of the Flash Family the son of Wally West and Artemis Crock), Kid Flash (Wallace Rudolph “Wally” West), Terra (Tara Markov), Hawk and Dove (sisters Holly and Dawn Granger), El Diablo (Chato Santana), Black Manta, Thunder and Lightning Prime (Gan and Tavis Williams), Enchantress (June Moon-Jones the wife of Killer Croc (Waylen Jones), Aquaman (Arthur Curry), Aquawoman (Queen Mera), Aqualad (Arthur Curry Jr), Ocean Master (Orm Marius), Black Lightning (Jefferson Pierce), Wonder Woman (Diana Prince), Atom (Ray Palmer), Doctor Fate, Martian Manhunter (Jo’nz Jo’nz), Red Tornado (John Smith), Green Lantern (Harold “Hal” Jordan of the U.S Air force), Star Sapphire (Carol Ferris-Jordan of the U.S Air Force), Hawkgirl (Queen Shayera Hol Stewart wife of Green Lantern John Stewart), Green Lantern (Colonel John Stewart of the U.S Marine Corps), Swamp Thing (Dr. Alec Holland), Deadman (Boston Brand), John Constantine, Hawkman (Carter Hall the ex fiancé of Shayera), Giganta (Dr. Doris Zuel-Choi), Atom (Dr. Ryan Choi), Firestorm (Dr. Ronald “Ronnie” Raymond/Jason Rusch), Killer Frost (Dr. Caitlyn Snow-Raymond), General Dru Zod, Colonel Ursa Zod, Major Faora Hu-Ul, Cheetah (Dr. Barbara Ann Minerva), Green Lantern (Police Sergeant Guy Darrin Gardner), Thunder and Lightning (Anissa and Jennifer Pierce), & Cyberion (Victor “Victory,” Stone), Zatanna Zatara) of the DC Prime Earth). “If containment of him/her/them just to Haven City, Shadow City, Hellfire City, & Crypt City of Hellfire County doesn’t work, we’re sent in.” said Sarah.” “If they fail then we move Cardinal Changeling in her Behemoth form and take her down in Celestial or Stellar City and Retro City,” said Empress Cornelia Augusta Rossi-Romano a half Atlantean and half sea nymph who is the wife of Emperor Angelo Vergilius Romano the son of Neptune and a female Atlantean Empress.” 

“Do we really need all of these people to take down Cardinal Changeling,” asked Kurt. “Yes, we do” said Mason Owen Jones, Dean Lucas Chambers, Lisa Mackenzie, Carolina Robbins, Layla Noylan, & Lola Macias on their comms. Silver Steel Savior (Dean Lucas Chambers) was in his fully charged superhero blue and red power armor suit Lori built with him, Layla Nolan in her white and red solar suit, Captain Crimson Courageous (Mason Owen Jones) in his blue and red solar suit Lori built for him, Caroline was in her red and white solar suit, Lisa Mackenzie in her black and blue solar suit, & Lola Macias in her red and blue solar suit. Dean’s and Mason’s costumes came with domino masks, face masks, bandanas, gloves, pants, & boots. Lisa’s, Lola’s, Layla’s, & Carolina’s solar suits came with domino masks, face masks, bandanas, hoods, gloves, pants, & boots. “They’re right,” said Talia Macar, “because right now, at her power level, she is a powerhouse.” “Right now Scarlet Shapeshifter’s is as powerful as a metahuman and superhuman supercharged by yellow, red, blue, & white solar radiation or a metahuman supercharged by magic.” Hank asked, “Why does Alex/Lexi warrant a scenario 1?” “Alex/Lexi doesn’t need scenario 1, because the scenario, wasn’t talking about Alexander/Alexandria, its talking about world ending threats,” said Empress Kulax Kojir, “the threat is not Alex/Lexi.” “When Laurissa and Alexander/Alexandria wrote about scenario 1 they weren’t talking about the Beast/Primal/Feral, the Chimera/Hybrid.” “They weren’t talking about the Prime the fusion of the Chimera and the Beast.” “They were talking about what comes after the Berserker or the Juggernaut.” “The Berserker is only their first form.” “They were talking about the second and third form of the Prime.” “The scenario was written because they found out their plan.” “When they found out about their plan.” “When they found out about their Trojan horse,” said Queen Diona Artemis Megalos the daughter of Ares and Athena and Queen Carina Akali Ragorio the daughter of Mars and Venus. “So this is their revenge, this is their vengeance, to get retribution on Lori and Mack/Macy stopping the both of them so many times,” said Psionic Paladin or Ion Inquisitor (Joanna Jacobson), “we should have known he’d be back.” Princess Selina who is the daughter of Zeus and Hera, asked, “What is happening, whose plan, who are back, & whose vengeance?” “Saturn’s plan and Cronus’ plan,” said Carol “the plan of those two Greco Roman Titans to finally settle the score with Lori and Alex/Lexi for once again denying them Earth so several times.” “They would, but not now that we’re here,” said the leaders of the Vigilants, Outcasts, Ironclad, Wildcards, Primals, Exiles, Paramount, Alpha, & Centurions that made of the superhero conglomerate the Elites that defended the planet Earth and the Omega, Apex, Cinnabar Celestials, Primordials, Wardens, Inquisitors, Titanium Templar’s, Illusionists, Aurora, Colossals, Ethereals, Iron Immortals, & Rangers that made up that made up the superhero conglomerate the Paragons who defended the Vega, Sol, & Polaris Star Systems. “We are here to lend you assistance Elites, Paragons, & Sentinels,” the leaders of the superhero team said, “Alex/Lexi, Jo, & Lori led us once, we stood by them as they led our teams against the all of our enemies.” “It’s time to return the favor, & it’s time to save our leader.” “Once,” Maria, Tadashi, & Nathan asked, “When?” Maria, Tadashi, & Nathan are the teenage adopted children of Alexander Mack Smith/Alexandria Macy Smith. His/her/their adoptive children were with Chucky (the imaginary friend creation of Maria, Tadashi, & Nathan created when they were kids and upgraded when they were preteens which is a giant 30 foot tall teddy bear modeled after an ice age cave bear with superhuman strength, speed, durability, & claws that can rip through steel) who protect them since their real parents abandoned them. It was their only companion before Alex/Lexi found them and adopted them as kids. “It was long before your time,” said Levi, “it was and still is the most badass battle of all time.” “When your parent our strike team commander and field commander Crimson Changeling or Scarlet Shapeshifter (formally known as the Changeling or Chimera of the Elites and former rookie and protégé Animal Boy/Animal Girl of the Primals and Exiles Alexander Mack Smith/Alexandria Macy Smith) of the Elites and Paragons, your adoptive mother Joanna “Jo” Jacobson-Smith (Elites and Paragon asset and civilian sponsor and supporter of the Elites and Paragons), & Arcane Assassin (Sentinels supporter and sponsor of the Elites and Paragons Laurissa Owen Maximiliana Jones) of the Justice League) led all of us the Superhero, Antihero, Supervillain United Legionnaire Strikeforce (a superhero team that is an alliance between the Elites, Paragons, & Sentinels that defend the universe, multiverse, & omniverse) against all of our enemy the Forces of Evil a supervillain organization and supervillain alliance who seeks to conquer the universe, multiverse, & omniverse,” said Sean, “In the Alpha Centurion War (named after the Alphas and Centurions that made up the superhero conglomerate the Elites): Battle of the Milky Way Galaxy and the Battle of the Andromeda Galaxy.”

[theresidentnews]

“Doll E. Wood”

A renowned pediatric surgeon is called over to Chastain for an extremely difficult surgery on a newborn, but when she arrives, The Raptor and Devon realize she is not fit for surgery, resulting in a situation more complicated than they could have imagined. Meanwhile, a Dolly Parton drag queen is admitted to the ER after collapsing on stage, leading Bell and Ezra to a potentially life-saving discovery. Also, Nic and Conrad suspect their patient may be the victim of sex trafficking and Nadine delivers some surprising news to Devon.

Original Airdate: March 10, 2020

Written By: Amy Holden Jones & Eric I. Lu

Directed By: Li Lu

Starring:

Matt Czuchry - Conrad Hawkins

Emily VanCamp - Nic Nevin

Manish Dayal - Devon Pravesh

Shaunette Renée Wilson - Mina Okafor

Bruce Greenwood - Randolph Bell

Malcolm-Jamal Warner - AJ Austin

Jane Leeves - Kitt Voss

Morris Chestnut - Barrett Cain

Guest Cast:

Tasso Feldman - Dr. Irving Feldman

Shazi Raja - Nadine Suheimat

Eli Gelb - Dr. Ezra Dreyfuss

Ann Marie Gideon - Nurse Sylvie Pund

Alex Hernandez - Dr. Ed Torres

Todd Sherry - Doll E. Wood/Joseph Kinney

Rebecca Wisocky - Dr. Judith Brown

Edie Cheezburger - Emcee

Jesse Luken - Marcus Thompson

More Cast

Promotional Photos

Press Release

Ratings:

Same Day | Live +3 | Live +7

Reviews

Promo:

Sneak Peeks:

[rocketwerks]

Belgrade

AKA Belvidere, Bellgrade, Alandale, Allandale, Ruth’s Chris Steak House

11500 West Huguenot Road

Built, 1732, 1824

February 2020

The centerpiece of one of Chesterfield’s most notorious murders. PG-13!

(Chesterfield County Public Library)  — Jeffrey O’Dell Research Papers Collection — 1978

Belgrade, known in the late nineteenth century as "Belvidere" and renamed "Alandale" in the early part of this century, features an unusual plan and a unique medley of roof types. Situated off Robious Road southwest of Bon Air, the house occupies a large open tract surrounded by rapidly expanding residential and commercial development.

February 2020

Originally a one- or 1 1/2-story hall-parlor house, Belgrade was expanded to its present form in 1824. In that year, Edward Cox conveyed the property to Edward O. Friend, and assessed buildings rose in value from $482 to $1,939. This increase reflects a complete transformation of the original dwelling from a hall-parlor structure to a large dwelling composed of a two-story, side-passage-plan main block flanked by matching 1-story one-room-plan wings.

(Chesterfield County Public Library) — Jeffrey O’Dell Research Papers Collection — 1978

The hipped gambrel roof covering each of the two wings is unusual, and Belgrade provides the latest recorded example in Virginia of this rare roof type. Another unusual feature is the apparently original 1-story lean-to at the west end of the building. The primary purpose of this eight-foot wide unit appears to have been to house a stair (similar in form and coeval to that in the main block) permitting separate interior and exterior access to the upper chamber of the south wing.

February 2020

The present interior trim, varying only slightly among the various rooms on both floors, dates entirely to ca. 1824. The mantel in the main block consists of a simple architrave surround capped by a molded shelf with punch-and-dentil band. The mantels in each of the wings are nearly identical, featuring a raised-panel surround capped by a molded shelf. Upstairs mantels date from the same period, and feature plain architrave surrounds with simple molded shelves.

February 2020 — showing end of original construction at center-right, and the start of new construction at far-right

Two coeval staircases serve the house; both are of closed-string, straight-run form with rectangular balusters, square newel with molded cap, and molded rail. The stair in the main block is of unusual configuration: it divides at a narrow landing against the rear wall, where short flights lead respectively to chambers over the main block and north wing. The stair in the lean-to, which makes a turn about three-quarters of the way up, barely allows headroom at the upper landing.

(Chesterfield County Public Library) — Jeffrey O’Dell Research Papers Collection — 1978

Originally, matching dependencies flanked the house. A one-story, two-room-plan frame kitchen with center chimney stood seventy feet to the south of the house, while an office of similar form stood at an equal distance from the north end of the dwelling. Both were in a deteriorated state in the 1920s and were demolished. The only surviving early outbuilding is a frame gable-roofed smokehouse standing a few yards southwest of the house.

February 2020 — showing original construction at center, new construction at far left

The earliest traced owner of the property was Edward Cox, who in 1824 sold the house and 515 acres to Edward O. Friend for $5,000. Friend, the son of Joseph Friend and grandson of Edward Friend (d. 1806), lived there until his death in 1838, when the property passed to his widow, Matilda E. Burfoot Friend. She remarried and sold the farm two years later to Anthony T. Robiou, who lived there until his death in 1851.

(Old Stocks) — Richmond and Danville Railroad Company 100 share stock certificate

Robious Crossing, where the new Richmond and Danville Railroad line intersected Huguenot Road, was named for the then-current owner of the farm. Robiou is best remembered in Chesterfield County history, however, as the man whose murder precipitated one of the most publicized court trials in nineteenth century Virginia.

(Wikipedia) — Black Heath

The episode began when Robiou filed a divorce suit against his young wife (who was only fourteen at the time of her wedding) charging her with infidelity. [CCO]

Apparently, it wasn’t a “maybe-she-is” situation. Robiou caught them mid-schtupp, still cracking the plaster, and took offense.

John S. Wormley, the girl’s father, along with John Reid, her allegedly adulterous suitor, waylaid Robiou on the road to Black Heath Pits (today’s Robious Road) and gunned him down. [CCO]

(Fineart America) — Infidelity, 18th Century art print by Granger

Imagine Robiou’s last moments contemplating the unfairness of it all. At least he has a street named for him.

Both men were taken into custody shortly thereafter, and Wormley, a prosperous planter and lawyer, was found guilty at a trial held at Chesterfield Court House in October, 1851. A mistrial was later declared, however, on the grounds that the jurors had been treated to drinks beforehand by the deputy sheriff and county clerk. [CCO]

*hic... innnoshent, yer Honor...

(Executed Today) — scene of a 19th-century hanging

Over a year later, a jury summoned from Richmond and Petersburg because of the local notoriety of the case sentenced Wormley to death. A week later, a crowd of 4,000 persons watched the 42-year-old man hanged at Chesterfield Courthouse. Reid, meanwhile, had been tried and acquitted, and before the hanging married the young widow whose husband he had been accused of murdering. [CCO]

(Chesterfield County Public Library) — Jeffrey O’Dell Research Papers Collection — Belgrade Foyer, 1978

Of course, this all ends happily. Two weeks after her father’s hanging, Mrs. Emily Reid took a tumble down the front steps and perished. Poetic justice. 

There are two accounts of how she died. One account is that she fell on a sewing basket and scissors punctured her heart. The other account is that she broke her neck. Since this tragedy, there have been hundreds of stories of sightings of the ghosts of Robiou and his young bride roaming the boxwood gardens behind the home. (Ruth’s Chris)

(Library of Congress) — Map of Chesterfield County, Va. — J. E. LaPrade, 1888 — Belgrade identified as Belvidere, right at the intersection of Robious and the Richmond and Danville Railroad

In 1851, the year of the first trial, Randolph Ammonett purchased the property from the trustees of Robiou’s estate for $2,025. Ammonett lived at Belgrade until his death in 1889. In his will, he directed that "an iron railing about 10 feet square be erected around the graves of myself and my deceased wife, J. J. Ammonett." This fence still stands in the back yard, although there are no inscribed stones to identify the graves of either Amonett or his wife. [CCO]

(Chesterfield Observer) — 2009

Since then the place has been called Belvidere, Alandale, Allandale, and Bellgrade, the nom-de-plume that Ruth’s Chris prefers. Jeff O’Dell calls it Belgrade, and who are we to argue with an architectural historian? 

Mary Wingfield Scott would not have approved with Ruth’s Chris’s alterations, but the steak house did end up preserving the original structure, so even if it isn’t on the historic registry, the spirit of the plantation house was preserved.

(Belgrade is part of the Atlas RVA! Project)

Print Sources

[CCO] Chesterfield County, Early Architecture and Historic Sites Jeffrey M. O’Dell. 1983.

[stretchjournalemerson]

Finding More

By Eitan Miller -

“I hurried over to the metal grating on the side of the “road.” Peering down, I saw cars flying at the speed of light right under my feet. This was it – the Abandoned Highway.”

I hurried over to the metal grating on the side of the “road.” Peering down, I saw cars flying at the speed of light right under my feet. This was it – the Abandoned Highway. My friend and I had been searching for this rumored oasis: a highway overpass accessible only through miles of woods. Rumor has it that the town ran out of funding for a branch of highway in the middle of construction, and they the town abandoned the project. This left the concrete slab freestanding for graffiti artists and wanderers. As I think about it, my friend and I couldn’t care less about what it was or how it got there, we just wanted an adventure and a place to explore. When I found it, I was enchanted. The setting sun’s reflection glowed amidst the hidden lake in the distance. A brilliant stream flowed, dodging in and out of the trees in its path. These sights contrasted greatly with the metal and concrete beneath my feet. Even the profanities engraved in graffiti and the overturned shopping cart lying on the overpass had an unusual sort of beauty. Man and nature had collided on this spot, meshing together, becoming one. Hundreds of vehicles rumbled beneath me, and the small town of Chatham, New Jersey sat unknowing, merely a mile or two away. Standing there, I remember experiencing the distinct feeling of absolute freedom.

Growing up in a boring suburb was just that – boring. During my childhood, I wanted to get out of the bubble and find something “exciting.” I guess I didn’t really know what I was looking for, though I found it from time to time in the form of bike rides, late night adventures through neighboring towns, and hikes in the woods. On many occasions, I would dash into the garage, grabbing the cold aluminum frame of my bike that desperately desired motion. I would lift open the heavy garage door and try to slide out my bike without toppling it, before hopping on and letting the wheels take me away. I would glide across the relatively empty roads, feeling the wind in my hair, turning left, then right, then left, then right, until I was comfortably lost. I wanted to explore, and I wanted to escape. 

For my fourth birthday, I asked my parents for “a job,” impossibly desiring to become an “adult.” On Take Your Child to Work Day, I sat at the wood-paneled desk in the meeting room of my dad’s office, bathing in self-importance as I was told that the PowerPoint I was making “may or may not” get presented to my dad’s colleagues. My parents remind me that on my ninth birthday, I excitedly declared, “I’m halfway to eighteen!” In middle school, one day during gym class I distinctly remember telling my best friend that I was “ready to leave and go to college.” I wanted what I didn’t have: to grow up and get out. When it came time to look for college, I began searching for a new place to live. 

I arrived in Boston, my new home, on August 27th, 2018. As my parents drove, I sat in the back seat of the car taking in the surroundings with the windows down. The sun shone bright, reflecting off the buildings in brilliant blues and golds. The breeze rippled through my hair and I felt an energy I didn’t recognize. Cleaner and greener than New York City, but more vibrant and busy than boring Chatham, New Jersey, Boston was my oasis. It was completely walkable and the perfect balance of busy and manageable. In the first few weeks, I spent hours exploring the city. I used my photography as an excuse to find new places and revel in all of what Boston had to offer. 

One day, I was walking with a friend and we got completely lost after a few hours of wandering. We passed run-down trains and an industrial complex, entirely unsure of where we were. Eventually, we stumbled upon a path filled with streaks of color, like permanent multicolor chalk streams that seemed to stretch for miles. Curious, we followed. I found out later that we had stumbled upon “The Underground at Ink Block,” a stunning vibrant display of street art beneath the busy highways of Boston’s South End. Vibrant interconnecting paths snaked up and down across eight acres. Above our heads, cars raced by in a labyrinth of crisscrossing roads. With the exception of one or two sketchy-looking homeless men, the paths were empty, creating an urban oasis surrounded by movement, as if we were in the eye of a hurricane. There were murals around every corner, and the Ink Block felt like a hidden paradise. The traffic roared above. Presumably, the people zipping by overhead had no idea what they were missing, and we were alone in this magical spot, yet simultaneously amidst one of the busiest cities in the country. 

I might as well have been back at the Abandoned Highway. The graffiti, speeding cars despite complete tranquility, and the excitement of miles of space I had yet to explore were all the same. But, something was different. I had left Chatham and I had come to a city. Instead of standing next to a nature-filled oasis, I was walking between painted concrete slabs. I was with new friends, I was older, and I was in a home of my own choosing. I was very happy, because this is what I had always wanted. 

Yet, I discovered that my urge for exploration, freedom, and adulthood never died. It couldn’t be cured by moving, or by a city, or by new people. When I came here, it wasn’t enough to just live in Boston. I had to find every hidden corner, uncover every new inch of space. Some urges don’t depend on your surroundings--they’re simply internal. I am still searching for the next new place and the next step forward. I imagine that this will always be the case.

This Thanksgiving I will return home for the first time since leaving. I will see my old friends, old home, and I already have plans to pay a visit to the Abandoned Highway. Just a year ago, I would wander the woods with my friends, complaining about how boring my town was. Temporarily satisfied after finding a fascinating new place, I sought more, assuming it was my town’s fault that I wanted to get out. Now I realize that my inner curiosity would have gotten the best of me no matter where I lived. Exploration is in my blood.

I recognize that I’m still in the honeymoon phase with Boston, which is why I think I’m mostly content for now. There are still more places within the city to explore and I’m still learning my way around. Boston is a Band-Aid on my curiosity, but I know that I’ll reach a point where I’m not satisfied. I will want to go somewhere new and experience something different.

And I guess I just have to wait and find out where I end up.

Acknowledgments

Joan Didion’s beautifully-crafted essays, specifically “Goodbye to All That,” inspired this writing and the stylistic choices I made. My peer reviewer, Kayla Randolph, gave me excellent feedback that pushed me further towards the style of Didion and gave me confidence that this essay was actually half-decent. I would also like to thank Professor Mary Kovaleski Byrnes for both introducing me to Didion’s work and teaching me many of the skills necessary to create this essay. Finally, I would like to thank my friends, specifically those who go exploring with me, because these stories would not exist without you.

Works Cited

Anolik, Lili. “How Joan Didion the Writer Became Joan Didion the Legend.” Vanity Fair, Condé Nast, 1 Feb. 2016, www.vanityfair.com/culture/2016/02/joan-didion-writer-los-angeles.

Didion, Joan. “Goodbye to All That,” Slouching Towards Bethlehem, 4th Estate, 2017.

---“Los Angeles Notebook,” Slouching Towards Bethlehem, 4th Estate, 2017.

---.“Marrying Absurd.” Slouching Towards Bethlehem, 4th Estate, 2017.---.“In Sable and Dark Glasses.” Vogue, 31 Oct. 2011, www.vogue.com/article/in-sable-and-dark-glasses-joan-didion.

---.“Why I Write.” The New York Times, 5 Dec. 1976, www.nytimes.com/1976/12/05/archives/why-i-write-why-i-write.html.

---. The Year of Magical Thinking. Alfred A. Knopf, 2017.Harris, Joseph. Rewriting: How to Do Things with Texts. Utah State University Press, 2017. Lalami, Laila. “The South (and the West) through Joan Didion's Eyes.” The New York Times, The New York Times Company, 14 Apr. 2017, www.nytimes.com/2017/04/14/books/review/-south-and-west-joan-didion.html.

Mallon, Thomas. “The Limits of History in the Novels of Joan Didion.” Critique: Studies in Contemporary Fiction, vol. 21, no. 3, 9 July 2010, pp. 43–52., doi:10.1080/00111619.1980.9935212.

[mondonews]

Elon Musk Is a Digital Citizen Kane

Elon Musk Is a Digital Citizen Kane

What would Twitter look like with Musk as its sole proprietor? What if one of the world’s important tools for information was owned by a mercurial billionaire who could do whatever he wanted with it? But imagine that Musk eventually buys Twitter from the stockholders who own it today. The closest comparison to this might be the 19th-century newspaper barons like William Randolph Hearst, Joseph…

[yessadirichards]

Gary Oldman on finding the frequency of 'Mank'    NEW YORK

The first time Gary Oldman and David Fincher met was in London 1990, when Fincher was looking to cast him in “Alien 3.”

“And he had the sense to say no,” Fincher recalls.

In the 30 years since then, they have never been far out of orbit from one another. They consider one another friends. They share an ex-wife, the mother of their children. But Fincher cast Oldman’s manager, Douglas Urbanski (as Larry Summers in ’The Social Network”), before he called up Oldman about another role.

“There are some directors who get stars in their eyes and say, ‘We must do something.’ Mainly you never hear from them again,” Oldman says, chuckling. “David’s the sort of director that if you’re right for something, he’ll cast you. And if you’re not, he won’t.”

While some have quibbled that Oldman, 62, is a little old to play Herman Mankiewicz — he wrote “Citizen Kane” more than a decade before drinking himself to death at the age of 55 -- Oldman is so tailored to the role that he wears it like the cocktail-soaked, day-old, rumpled suit Mank flops around in. Fincher’s “Mank” is such a dense and dazzling Hollywood time machine that all the conversation it’s spawned — on the authorship of “Citizen Kane,” on “auteur” directors, on its ‘30s political backdrop — has sometimes overlooked the incredible balancing act at its center. It’s a performance always teetering on the edge, poised between inebriation and lucidity, ’40s-style zip and modern-day naturalism.

“Mank, it’s in the eyes. It’s like a different head,” says Oldman speaking by phone from London. “It’s a different motor that’s moving. It’s what I call a character’s running condition. It's finding the frequency of the man.”

“Mank,” which debuted Friday on Netflix, is about a little-celebrated figure of Hollywood history: a sharped-tongued newspaperman turned studio hack who worked often without credit (the black-and-white to Technicolor switch of “The Wizard of Oz” was his idea). But despite a penchant for self-sabotage and liquor, Mankiewicz — relying on his own history with William Randolph Heart (Charles Dance in the film) as a kind of court jester to Hollywood's most powerful — turned in a draft for what's generally considered the greatest film of all time.

“It was never our intention to rectify some wrong. It’s just a character study of a man who was self-emulating and who did it in a rather witty way," says Fincher, whose father, Jack Fincher, wrote the script. “I’ve got nothing against Orson Welles. Orson Welles was a genius and if everybody doesn’t know that, I don’t know what to say.”

In crafting the portrait of Mankiewicz, Fincher wanted Oldman as himself. No wigs, no special costume. For Oldman — who had recently buried under prosthetics and make-up as Winston Churchill in “Darkest Hour,” winning him the best actor Oscar — that made him nervous.

“I am partial to a disguise. I like to hide. And David wanted no veil between me and the audience,” says Oldman. “He said: ‘I want you as naked as you’ve ever been.’ It wasn’t that I resisted that. I was just a little uneasy with it at first."

It’s a role that Oldman isn’t so terribly far from, in some respects. He's well acquainted with alcoholism. Oldman's brutally honest autobiographical film about his working-class London upbringing, “Nil By Mouth,” shot scenes in the very bar his hard-drinking father used to frequent. Oldman was himself once an alcoholic and, like Mank, prone to audacious gambles. Back when he was drinking, Oldman chose between two simultaneous offers — “Waterworld” and “The Scarlet Letter” — with a coin flip. (Rev. Dimmesdale won.)

For Oldman, it meant drawing on “muscle memory.”

“It’s a long time ago now. I’ve been sober almost 24 years. But you remember it, and I certainly brought that to the party,” says Oldman. “Mank said something that struck me to my heart. He said, ‘My critical faculty has prospered at the expense of my talent.’ There’s the longing to write the great play, to write the great novel, and there’s a fear involved there — the fear of trying and failing. I’ve known quite a few drunks who are like that. It’s like they have a critic on their shoulder.”

It was in Alcoholics Anonymous in 1996 that Oldman met his third wife, Donya Fiorentino, a year after she and Fincher had divorced. After five years of marriage, Oldman and Fiorentino also divorced. Oldman received full custody of their two sons, now in their early 20s. (Fincher also eventually gained full custody of his daughter with Fiorentino.) In a court filing in 2001, Fiorentino alleged that Oldman hit her with a telephone, a charge that Oldman strongly denies. Their shared painful past, both actor and director say, went unspoken of during their collaboration.

Instead, their work together was of mutual meticulousness. Fincher, long renowned for his obsessive exactitude, found in Oldman a highly detailed actor of deep research capable of subtly manipulating his performance. No director is able to have a whole movie in his head, Fincher says, but Oldman can mentally maintain the whole arc of his character.

“He’s the kind of person, you have the conversation once, and you literally watch his blue eyes click in. It gets stored away, and whatever that thing was magically becomes part of the fabric of everything he does afterward. It’s osmosis," says Fincher. “He’s a sort of behavioral vacuum. You give him data and then that data is processed and comes out as behavior.”

To match the black-and-white period atmosphere, Fincher wanted a style of acting with some of the spirit of the ’30s and ’40s. “Believable but ever so slightly heightened — imperceptible arch,” says Oldman. There’s barely any footage of Mankiewicz talking so Oldman, figuring the apple wouldn’t fall too far from the tree, relied on recordings of Mankiewicz's brother, the “All About Eve” director Joseph Mankiewicz.

Dance has previously suggested Oldman grew a little impatient with Fincher’s proclivity for a lot of takes. (Two scenes, each parties with sprawling conversation, took a week to shoot.) But Oldman says he relished the process — even if it did sometimes drag on.

“You can imagine being on the set and doing a scene for 30 takes and then saying to someone, ‘God, we’ve done this scene a hundred f---ing times.’ Then David with his cherubic smile says, ’Yeah, and we’re going to do it 101,” says Oldman. “Sometimes you feel like the director hasn’t walked away from a scene he hasn’t got. Sometimes you feel like you’re making the day, rather than making the movie. You would never feel that on a Fincher set.”

[kerishaharris]

Going, going, (not quite but almost) gone: the sad state of local newspapers

True story: As a young, would-be journalist, I applied at the behest of my high school journalism teacher to the Hugh N. Boyd Minorities in Journalism Workshop. The program was a two-week intensive workshop open to high school students across New Jersey with an interest in journalism. It promised to provide the 15 or so selected participants with real-world experience in the field absolutely free of charge, as local newspapers across the state sponsored the event, covering all expenses for selected students. Having always been rather introverted and somewhat shy, I didn’t think my writing was good enough to make the cut. But to my surprise, I ended up being selected and was sponsored by my hometown newspaper, The Record of Bergen County, aka The Record (or, so it was called at the time). The experience was transformative for me, and gave me my first insight into life as a journalist. I’d go on to study journalism as an undergraduate student at the University of Florida, starting off in print but switching to broadcast, and working professionally in the field for more than a decade for CNN, NBC, ABC, Univision, and more. And for a time, I briefly took a job as the lead social media editor for none other than the local newspaper that helped give me my start in the business: The Record of Bergen County.

(fun fact: The Record broke the 2013 George Washington Bridge lane closure scandal which made national and global headlines) This week, I chose to take a closer look at local newspapers, and in doing so, briefly examine why they’ve struggled to remain relevant in a changing industry (I’ll only scratch the surface, because I could probably write an entire dissertation on this topic). It’s actually quite sad, as I firmly believe that local newspapers and beat reporters are critical to freedom of the press and unbiased, balanced, and fair reporting. Sadly, the digital age has done irrevocable damage to this industry. And I hate to say it, but digital and social media are almost solely responsible for the demise of newspapers, and sadly, I’m a part of that problem too. As a tail-end millennial who came of age with the internet, if the news isn’t on my smartphone or easily accessible via an app or a free website, I quickly lose interest and seek my information elsewhere. I can’t remember the last time I had a newspaper subscription, or even purchased a newspaper. I recognize how important they are, I just have so many other options for news consumption now that I just don’t turn to newspapers anymore. Freedom of the press

Local newspapers have been part of the fabric of this country since as early as the 1600’s. Every journalism student remembers studying the great circulation wars of the 1800’s between Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst. If not, everybody remembers how fun it was when instead of class, our teachers took a day off from teaching and instead showed “Newsies” on VHS in history class. It never gets old. 

(truer words have never been said, Jack Kelly) But the rise of television news, and eventually digital and social media, pushed local newspapers aside, as audiences had a quicker, easier way to access news on-demand instead of waiting for the morning paper. According to a recent report by researchers at the Hussman School of Journalism and Media at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, 300 more newspapers failed since the fall of 2018 bringing the death toll to 2,100. That’s 25 percent of the 9,000 newspapers that were being published just 15 years ago. It also noted that there are about 200 “news deserts,” or communities without any local newspapers. Most of those news deserts are in economically challenged rural areas, but more and more, even the economically advantaged suburbs are feeling the pinch too. 

(via UNC Hussman School of Journalism and Media) The danger here? Local papers highlight and elevate local stories we might not otherwise know about, but we absolutely need to care about. What’s going on in our schools, with our local elected officials, within our communities, local zoning and budget decisions that impact our daily lives. They provide a micro-level guide to the things that impact us every single day. So if nearly all of your news is coming from social and digital media and their sometimes questionable algorithms, or television news that’s almost undoubtedly biased (at least in the U.S.), you really have to question whether you’re receiving fair, unbiased coverage. Dying, but not (quite) dead It was encouraging to see that while the industry is undoubtedly suffering, there are still some people who often consume their news via local newspapers. According to the Pew Research Center, people aged 65 and older account for most of the existing newspaper audience, roughly four in 10 of whom say they still often get their information from newspapers. This is about what I would expect from the older generation, but this sadly doesn’t say much for younger generations and their newspaper consumption. Only 18 percent of people age 50-64, 8 percent of people age 30 to 49, and a mere 2 percent of people age 18-29 say that they often get their news from newspapers. 

And even among those 65 and older, newspapers are a pretty distant second in terms of the source they visit most often for news, as 81 percent of people in this age group cite television as the source they often use for news.

If you can’t beat them, join them In my brief time as social media editor for The Record, it was obvious to me that the paper was trying hard to adapt to a changing world, opening themselves up to methods they’d never had to use before. The same was true of most newspapers, even national newspapers like the Los Angeles Times and the New York Times. It has been interesting to see the ways in which these newspapers have branched out into new forms of media to adapt to the way people consume news today. I highlighted this in a previous post, but I’ve been impressed by the NYT’s foray into LinkedIn Live, creating immersive, engaging conversations on key stories, and giving the audience the chance to actively participate with the media. At its core, I’ve always said that the best thing about social/digital media was that it took what were always one-way conversations, and made them into two-way experiences for the audience and the content creator. And speaking of the Times, their efforts on Instagram are among my favorite. Beautiful portraits that would once only live on paper are now shared in a beautifully curated feed that is always so pleasing to the eye. Often, these are stories that wouldn’t typically make the front page of the paper, but the visuals are so stunning that they tell a story in and of themselves.

(via the New York Times on Instagram) Using local newspapers as a communications professional

Part of my renewed interest in newspapers came about when I was a communications manager for a small nonprofit organization. Our primary goal was to engage in state level advocacy on behalf of the state’s charter schools. Effectively that means, catch the eyes and ears of lawmakers and state your case so that when budget time comes around, they’ll make sure to enact a budget that ensures the survival of these schools. I learned that these lawmakers and influencers pay close attention to newspapers, perhaps even more than other forms of media, and so getting our agenda into the local newspaper was a large part of the work that I did. I would write (well, ghostwrite) opinion pieces for senior leadership, students and parents, and pitch them for placements in the local papers in the districts of the lawmakers we needed to reach, I would develop relationships with local education reporters, invite them to press events, give them quotes for their stories, organize editorial board meetings and more. Newspapers became a critical part of the work that I did, as were the relationships I built with members of the newspaper industry, and I’d imagine the same is true for other communications professionals. Much to my (pleasant) surprise, there are still some brands doing important work with traditional print newspapers. According to FORBES, “MasterCard placed a two-page spread in The New York Times, almost unheard of these days, to articulate its support for the LGBTQIA+ community and MasterCard’s support for GLAAD’s NEON Legacy Series, a photo and video collection produced by Black LGBTQIA+ creators. The ad states MasterCard’s commitment to equal treatment, equal opportunity and equal rights. The ad features both the MasterCard logo and the GLAAD logo.” I can’t find a photo of the ad anywhere, but I’m sure it was great! Of course, this is very different from the way the general public engages with newspapers, as they’re looking for unbiased updates on what’s going on in their communities. But it’s still nice to know there are still some communicators out here tapping into the power of local newspapers to promote their brands, and I was one of them.

(sigh. a beautiful sight)

A sad future for local newspapers Sadly, none of the statistics point to a revival of newspapers anytime soon, although I’m holding out hope. With fewer local papers, and increased reliance on (often biased) television and (often wrong) social media for news, I worry that this is just one of the unfortunate ills of the digital age we’re living in. Sadly, many local papers are unable to stay afloat despite employing every possible adaptation in the book, often succumbing to major buyouts by huge conglomerates, resulting in newspapers that are controlled by corporate interests and offer no true local, unbiased reporting. 

And as for The Record? It suffered a similar fate in 2016 after it was ultimately bought out by Gannett, the nation’s largest newspaper chain. For folks like me from northern New Jersey, it was the end of an era. I still remember being saddened when I learned the news, even feeling a tad guilty that I didn’t stick around long enough to perhaps contribute to a more favorable outcome. While my time there was brief, I worked alongside some of the smartest, most passionate and hard-working people I’d ever met. They lived and breathed northern New Jersey, and they put their heart and soul into every letter of every story that went to print. But what happened with The Record has sadly happened to so many local newspapers with no signs of slowing down. As communications and marketing professionals, we certainly can play a role in trying to help revive the industry, but my fear is that any efforts we make would be too little too late.

[amytavern]

Non Solus, 10,645 real and imitation pearls sent to me by 147 people, my own pearls, silk thread, 9″ x 7″ x 6.5″, with table 52" x 18" x 37", 2015 on-going participatory object

Non Solus is made of thousands of pearls, both real and imitation, donated by 147 people from around the US and 13 different countries. Using the internet as a way to dispense information and make a public request, I asked for donations of a single pearl from anyone, anywhere. I received contributions from near and far, from people I know and others I have never met. Many donations included multiple pearls and many were special in some way: a grandmother’s pearl necklace; a single earring, once part of a set given as a gift from a father to a daughter; poppy seed-sized antique pearls acquired when a young Spanish jeweler befriended a retired jeweler. Some pearls came with letters, others did not. Some were packaged in tiny boxes with ribbons, while others were padded in bubble wrap. 

Starting with one pearl, the sculpture grew chronologically, donation by donation as each was stitched to the next. Every pearl was photographed, observed, and recorded before it was added to the piece. Non Solus is a on-going participatory object that will never be truly completed, much like how a pearl will grow indefinitely. It is about connection, participation, and collective memory.

Creating this piece was very special, to say the least. I never imagined it would grow into the complex work that it become, and continues to become. When I conceived the piece two years ago and put out my first call for pearls, I really thought a handful of people would respond and that the finished work would be the size of my fist. I never thought it would come to weigh 7 pounds and measure 9″ long! I also did not think I would receive the generous outpouring of care and generosity. I was given some truly unique pearls with heartfelt stories. I often found myself in tears as I opened a new package. 

Discussing it in graduate school with peers and professors allowed me to see it in different ways and to inform it or situate it within historical context (Joseph Beuys and his “social sculpture”) and various art theories, movements, and philosophies (archival art, feminism, phenomenology). Learning about these connections served to create a foundation for the work and deepened the meaning for me.

I am especially grateful to all the people who sent me pearls. I can’t begin to express in words how I feel. Thank you to each of you for being a part of this piece. 

Participants

Chris Keener, Huron, OH, Terry Taylor, Candler-NC, Lisa Norton, Shoreline, WA, Renee Zettle-Sterling, Coopersville, MI, Amy Hockett, Charlotte, NC, Bonnie Lambert, Helena, MT, Lucia Tremont, Syracuse, NY, Rebbecca Tomas, Seattle, WA, Charlene Schneider, Maineville, OH, Ellen Vontillius, Swannanoa, NC, Denise McCarthy, Houston, TX, Gill Miller, Lancaster Park, England, Shannon Cobb-Tappan, Dunedin, FL, Mark Fenn, Capel Iwan, Wales, Jowita Allen, Chevy Chase, MD, Baba Barnett, Raleigh, NC, Shava Lawson, Seattle, WA, Janna and Leah Marinelli, Traveler’s Rest, SC, Kelly Johnston, Bainbridge Island, WA. Kathy Clark, Reykjavík, Iceland, Laura Siegel, Brooklyn, NY, Jannie Rozema, Wageningen, Netherlands, Rachel Ehlers, Lake Ridge, VA, Tom McCarthy, St. Louis, MO, Anastasia Young, London, England, Jane Wells Harrison, Lenoir, NC, Janet Link, Raleigh, NC, Jenny Baughman, Roswell, GA, Lisa Juen, Utica, NY, Hilary Pfeifer, Portland, OR, Susie Luyet, Paia, HI, Sarah Powell, Oberhaching, Germany, Liz Willis, Pirton, England, Philip Sajet, Amsterdam, Netherlands, Jen Townsend, Pittsford, NY, Heather Allen, Raleigh, NY, Raissa Bump, San Francisco, CA, Michael Magno, Brooklyn, NY, Casey Shepard, Los Angeles, CA, Eileen Wallace, Athens, GA, Kathy Brughelli, Middletown, RI, Marianne Dages, Philadelphia, PA, Fritz Maierhofer, Vienna, Austria, Dan Price, Chicago, IL, Mary Quin, Decatur, GA, Claire Sommers Buck, Austin, TX, Linda Callahan, Gloversille, NY, Katie Rosenthal, San Diego, CA, David Chatt, Seattle, WA, Chris Boland, Sheffield, England, Rachel Davis, Milwaukee, WI, Kris Baker, Seattle, WA, Maria Phillips, Seattle, WA, Lori Hawke-Ramin, LaFayette, NY, Michele Tuegel, St. Petersburg, FL, Kelsey Simmen, San Francisco, CA, Erin Wheeler, Johnstown, NY, Crystalyn Brennan, Brooklyn, NY, Elisa Bongfeldt, Berkeley, CA, Stephanie Voegele, Milwaukee, WI, Adrienne Smart, Arlington, TX, Susan Owen, Vilas, NC, Elizabeth Brim, Penland, NC, Meadow Thurston (in memory of), Carolina Apolonia, Middelburg, Netherlands, Rebecca Illet, Cambridge, England, Kathleen Edwards Hayslett, Coralville, IA, Madeleine Veillet, Gaspe, Quebec, Canada, Virginia Hungate-Hawk, Seattle, WA, Tracy Scott, Atlanta, GA, Michelle Smith-Lewis, Seattle, WA, Sarah Rachel Brown, Philadelphia, PA, Jenna Warburton, Seattle, WA, Paul Casey, Seattle, WA, Lisa Macutchan Gray, Seattle, WA, Lori Talcott, Seattle, WA, Catherine Chandler, Portland, OR, Stacey Mosteller and Noreen Coveny, Endicott and Richfield Springs, NY, Holinka Escudero, Mexico City, Mexico, Jane Ponsford, Esher, England, Jan Smith, Salt Spring Island, BC, Canada, Mary Wolaniuk, Boulder, CO, Christina Carlbaum, Gnarp, Sweden, Louise Perrone, Vancouver, BC Canada, Devon Matlock, San Francisco, CA, Siri Kvalfoss, Tyssedal, Norway, Claire MacDonald, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, Emily Kidson, London, England, Michele Wyckoff Smith, London, England, Tara Locklear, Raleigh, NC, Robin Kranitzky and Kim Overstreet, Richmond, VA, Natascha Bybee, Seattle, WA, Natalia Araya, Valencia, Spain, Katja Prins, Amsterdam, Netherlands, Diego Richardson Nishikuni, London, England, Andrea Wagner, Amsterdam, Netherlands, Lylli Meredith, Seattle, WA, Elle Sharifpour, San Diego, CA, Miri Admoni, Sde Tzvi, Israel, Bonnie Levinthal, Philadelphia, PA, Lien de Clercq, Antwerp, Belgium, Melody Woodnutt, Brisbane, Queensland, Australia, Katharina Schneider, Blönduós, Iceland, Karen Vanmol, Antwerp Belgium, Yvette Dibos, San Diego, CA, Devon Clark, Palm Harbor, FL, Amy Sledge, Sheung Wan, Hong Kong, Amy Bishop, Aptos, CA, Anonymous, Long Beach, CA, Anastasia Egorova Shelyakina, Illes Balears, Spain, Cathy Woodall, Hebden Bridge, West Yorkshire, England, Caitlin Skelcey, Urbana, IL, Sam Woehrmann, San Francisco, CA, Rachel Weidinger, Oakland, CA, Hilde De Decker, Antwerp, Belgium, Kit de Sousa, Randolph, NJ, Bette Schuler, Tuscon, AZ, Melissa Lyon, Sherman, NY, Susan Bolding, Hayward, CA, Catherine Chambers, Ísafjörður, Iceland, Jonis Black-Parr, Seattle, WA, Christina Shmigel, Shanghai, China/Bakersville, NC, Nikki Couppee, Oakland, CA, Sara Erkers, Gothenburg, Sweden, Dawn Nakanhishi, Soquel, CA, Kerianne Quick, San Diego, CA, Shane Prada, Baltimore, MD, Mike Holmes, San Francisco, CA, Julia Turner, San Francisco, CA, Tescia Seufferlein, Oakland, CA, Lisa Fidler, Petaluma, CA, Sharon Tavern, Richfield Springs, NY, Elísa Mjöll Guðsteinsdóttir, Reykjavík, Iceland, Brooke Marks-Swanson, South Bend, IN, Lisa Heller, Philadelphia, PA, Kathleen Browne, Ravenna, OH, Megan McGaffigan, Vancouver, WA, Maya Kini, San Francisco, CA, Maria Porges, Oakland, CA, Chelsea Poe, Oakland, CA, Liz Oppenheim, Oakland, CA, Sara Valente, Herkimer, NY, Helga Ragnhildur Mogensen, Reykjavík, Iceland, Zoe Ani, San Francisco, CA

Images by Jamee Crusan.

Thanks for reading.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

An Oyster's Pearl

Fandom: DC Comics

Summary: Shortly after moving in with Joseph Wilson, Grant Wilson makes friends with a fellow pledge for a fraternity. During this time, Grant grapples with realizations about his childhood trauma, his sexuality, and his relationships with his father and siblings.

Chapters: 4/?

Characters: Grant Wilson, Joseph Wilson, Rose Wilson, Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson, William Randolph Wintergreen, Original Character(s)

Relationships: Grant Wilson/Original Character, DickJoey

Additional Tags: University AU, No Capes AU, Angst, Deaf Joseph Wilson, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Grant Wilson has a Sexuality Crisis, Frat Boy Grant Wilson

Chapter Four: Watering Hole

I wasn't so stubborn and angry that I would ignore Joey and his hangover that morning. I sat on his bed and put a cool towel over his forehead. He lay curled up in a ball, but his hangover didn't keep him from turning to me. "Remember when we were kids, and you broke into Mom's liquor cabinet?" I signed it so he wouldn't have to crane his neck to look me in the face.

"Don't remind me," Joey held his hands in front of his face.

"Mom would've killed you had you not—."

Joey waved his hands in front of my face. "You can change the subject now," Joey interrupted.

"If you drink pickle brine, it'll make your hangover disappear," I suggested.

"Pickle juice is disgusting. I'd rather suffer," Joey declined. I chuckled.

"Are you going to class today?" I asked. Joey shook his head. "Want me to get anything from the store?" Joey nodded.

"Popsicles and frozen pizzas," Joey replied.

"Check the freezer," I grinned, "I'll be home at five, maybe six." I didn't say anything else. I left his room and got ready for school.

I had scrambled eggs and a fruit smoothie and went to school. I went straight to Tau Psi to sign up and ran into Ken. "You weren't lying about coming in bright and early," Ken smiled. He had a gap. I hadn't noticed it before, but it made his smile stand out and made me want to smile back. "I hear they're gonna send an announcement e-mail at six."

"About what?" I asked. Ken shrugged, and he started walking to class. I went with him because I was headed that way. "What's your major?"

"I'm a double major in Criminal Justice and Psychology. What about you?" Ken asked, walking backward as he spoke to me.

"I'm in Chem, which is funny... My brother is the smartest of the three of us," I explained, "He's double majoring in Art and Cybersecurity."

"You must really care about your brother. You talk about him a lot," Ken noted, "Except when you're shitfaced."

Ken was an asshole too. Not as big an asshole as me, but it was enough for me to think we could be friends. "Fill the space then. Tell me about yourself," I replied as I nudged him out of the way of a group of kids touring the college.

"Two minutes off your game, Torrance—."

"Thanks, Ken," Torrance replied as he passed us with his group. Ken chuckled and shook his head.

"Torrance hates my guts because I was always the better tour guide... There's your fun fact about me," Ken stated, "Well, I've gotta go. Abnormal Psych calls to me."

"My Chem class is across the hall. See you after?" I asked. Okay, so I get how that can be misconstrued as me showing romantic interest in him, but cut me some slack. My best friend is my brother, and we were estranged from each other until a few months ago.

Ken nodded and threw up the peace sign before walking into his classroom. I went to mine shortly after, but I couldn't shake the feeling that one —if not both of us— was weird. The class seemed to drone on forever, and when it was over, I stood outside, waiting for Ken. He walked me to football practice, and I was shocked when he decided to stick around and watch. I liked having a friend. It was oddly encouraging having someone in the stands to offer a thumb's up or comical thumb's down. I wondered why he picked me.

I couldn't imagine anyone wanting to spend that much time with me. I mean, not even Joey could tolerate me for that long. Joey's classes and boyfriend were the only reason he could stomach living with me as an adult. I wasn't the nicest guy to be around, and it was obvious to most people that I'd been on my own since I was a teenager. After practice, I got a snack and hit the gym for an hour. Ken stuck with me, and he changed into his gym clothes. He spotted me at the weight bench and told me about his family. His parents were dead, and his sister practically raised him. "She was twenty, and I was maybe eight or nine. Before our parents died, she was just the big sister that lived far away... Oh, and she sucked at being a parent that first few months—. I'm rambling," Ken laughed uncomfortably before joining me on the treadmills.

"No, it's okay. Your sister sounds like she was a better sibling to you than I could ever be to my brother and sister," I replied. I meant it.

"You have a sister?" Ken asked.

"Yeah... I didn't know I had a sister until three years ago. My dad tried to dump her in some private school, but I guess he had a change of heart, and now she lives with him, but it's weird," I replied, "She's existed all this time, but I'm only getting to know her now."

"Sounds like your family situation is complicated... It makes me glad it was just Ama and me," Ken let out a breath. I chuckled.

My alarm went off in my pocket, and I took my phone out. "Got another Chem class in thirty minutes. I guess I'll see you later?" I asked. Ken nodded. I left him at the treadmills, and I showered and dressed for my next class.

Talking with him was refreshing in a way that I'd never experienced before. I don't know. It felt like I could speak to him for hours about anything. I probably would've told him my whole life story if I had the time. After class, I got an e-mail just as Ken said about meeting at the Tau Psi house at six in the morning to get paired up. After that, I went home and soaked in the tub while Joey worked on a painting in the living room. I didn't mention Ken to him because I didn't want him to make it weird for me. Every relationship —be it a friendship or a romantic relationship— that I've ever had has failed miserably. I hoped that Rose and Joey were wrong and that Ken just wanted to be my friend.

After soaking for nearly thirty minutes, I joined Joey for dinner and started my homework. "Can Dick spend the night?" Joey asked. The question came out of nowhere.

"I don't like that question... It makes me seem uncomfortable with you having a boyfriend," I replied. Joey chewed his lip. "I'm not! I'm not uncomfortable with you having a boyfriend."

"You say that, but you cringe whenever I say his name," Joey replied.

"His name is Dick... Besides, we fought the first time I met him. I'm not against you having a boyfriend... Hell! I don't even mind you dating him because that's your choice. I personally don't like him," I confessed. Joey put his face in his hands and started laughing.

"So, you don't feel weird about me having a man stay the night?" Joey asked.

"He can stay the night. I don't mind it as long as he doesn't touch my stuff," I replied. Joey nodded excitedly. Honestly, I was happy for him. Joey deserved happiness more than anybody I'd ever met. He was my little brother, and I couldn't deprive him of that, no matter how much I disliked his boyfriend.

Joey texted him, and he put his phone down, tapping the table excitedly. It made me wonder what it'd feel like to be with someone who made me feel loved like that. I think Joey noticed that my thoughts started to drift because he frowned. "You okay?" Joey asked. I nodded. "Swear?"

"Yeah," I lied. It was better than ruining Joey's night. "And you would've snuck him in through the fire escape anyway. Nothing gets past me, Joe. Nothing."

Joey shook his head and smirked like he knew something I didn't. I hated when he did that because he was usually right. "Hey, Grant?" Joey grabbed my wrist. His face was serious, and it scared me.

"What?" I asked.

"You're a true LGBT ally," Joey teased. I gave him the finger on my way to my room. Joey followed me to my room and knocked on the door. "Did you sign up for that frat?"

"Yeah, I did," I replied. Joey didn't say anything for a while, but I could tell he wanted to. "I hung out with Ken if that's what you wanna know."

"I'm glad you've got a new friend," Joey replied. He didn't say what he wanted to say. I was glad he didn't. I didn't have many friends. Actually, I didn't have any friends.

[wallpaperpaintings]

Learn The Truth About Renaissance Paintings In The Next 20 Seconds | Renaissance Paintings

Many of the images broadly ociated with the Italian Renaissance—think Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, Sandro Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus and Michelangelo’s The Creation of Adam—are bedeviled by white figures. But as Emily Roe and Angelo Amante address for Reuters, atramentous bodies played a cardinal role in this era of aesthetic innovation—and now, a new action from Florence’s Uffizi Arcade seeks to highlight these individuals’ contributions.

Each Saturday for the abutting seven weeks, the Italian art building will absolution a new video exploring representations of disregarded African figures, both absolute and imagined, in its Renaissance-era collections.

“The accident will focus on a alternation of artworks in which ‘black’ bodies comedy a above role, embodying a cardinal appearance in the activating of the painting,” writes the Uffizi on Facebook.

Art lovers can watch the clips for chargeless via TikTok and Facebook.

Justin Randolph Thompson, co-founder and administrator of Atramentous History Month Florence, is set to advance the museum’s basic discussions. Per the Florentine, the initiative—dubbed “Black Presence”—is an addendum of the gallery’s “On Being Present: Recovering Blackness in the Uffizi Galleries” exhibition, which debuted online beforehand this year. The appearance encourages visitors to yze 11 Renaissance paintings featuring African servants, kings and nobility.

“Black Presence” launched on July 4 with a chat about Piero di Cosimo’s Perseus Frees Andromeda (1510-15), which appearance a atramentous artisan in the foreground—“an abundantly rare” accident in Renaissance art, as Thompson addendum in the video.

In a approaching segment, the artisan and drillmaster will altercate Albrecht Dürer’s Adoration of the Magi (1504), which

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[theresidentnews]

“Doll E. Wood” Press Release

TUESDAY, MARCH 10 

A RENOWNED PEDIATRIC CARDIAC SURGEON PROVES UNFIT FOR SURGERY

A renowned pediatric surgeon is called over to Chastain for an extremely difficult surgery on a newborn, but when she arrives, The Raptor and Devon realize she is not fit for surgery, resulting in a situation more complicated than they could have imagined. Meanwhile, a Dolly Parton drag queen is admitted to the ER after collapsing on stage, leading Bell and Ezra to a potentially life-saving discovery. Also, Nic and Conrad suspect their patient may be the victim of sex trafficking and Nadine delivers some surprising news to Devon in the all-new "Doll E. Wood" episode of THE RESIDENT airing Tuesday, March 10 (8:00-9:00 PM ET/PT) on FOX. (RES-317) (TV-14 L, V)

Cast: Matt Czuchry as Conrad Hawkins; Bruce Greenwood as Dr. Randolph Bell; Manish Dayal as Devon Pravesh; Emily VanCamp as Nicolette Nevin; Shaunette Renée Wilson as Mina Okafor; Malcolm-Jamal Warner as Dr. AJ Austin; Jane Leeves as Dr. Kitt Voss; and Morris Chestnut as Dr. Barrett Cain 

Guest Cast: Tasso Feldman as Dr. Irving Feldman; Shazi Raja as Nadine Suheimat; Eli Gelb as Dr. Ezra Dreyfuss; Ann Marie Gideon as Nurse Sylvie Pund; Alex Hernandez as Dr. Ed Torres; Todd Sherry as Doll E. Wood/Joseph Kinney; Rebecca Wisocky as Dr. Judith Brown; Edie Cheezburger as Emcee; Jesse Luken as Marcus Thompson 

[rocketwerks]

Moldavia

AKA, Randolph-Gallego-Allan House 3 South Fifth Street Built, 1800 Demolished, 1890

[HOR] — facing the main entrance on Fifth Street

A prototypical massive Southern mansion, right next to the original location of Second Baptist Church. It only took up a third of an entire city block.

“Moldavia,” generally called the Allan house, got its nickname from the names of those who built it, Molly and David Meade Randolph. In the deed for the land Randolph is called “Gentleman,” while the distinguished man from whom he bought it, John Wickham, is merely “Counselor and Attorney at Law.”  The house was built in 1800, and two years later Randolph offered it for sale, describing it as “that very commodious, finely situated, two-story Brick Dwelling House . . . (more eligible in point of situation perhaps, than any in the city) and completely arranged offices….” Mordecai’s unflattering picture of Randolph explains why he was forced so soon to part with his new home. He was “Marshall of Virginia until the election of Mr. Jefferson, and being one of those federal office-holders who would neither ‘die nor resign’ the only alternative was to remove him.”

[HOR] — facing the south portico, with Second Presbyterian (left) & Second Baptist (right) in view

The Randolphs did not actually sell the house until 1804. Afterwards the indefatigable Molly opened a boarding-house that was famous for its hospitality. The cook-book which she compiled became as much the vade mecum of old Virginia housekeepers as Marion Harland’s cook-book was for a later generation. David Meade Randolph, “soldier of the Revolution,” lived until 1830, when he died near Yorktown.

(LOC) — Beers Illustrated Atlas of the Cities of Richmond & Manchester, 1877 — Plate K

The succeeding “Elector of Moldavia,” Joseph Gallego, was a native of Spain but had lived in Richmond at least since 1784. In 1798 the mills bearing his name were built. With David Ross and J. A. Chevallié, Gallego was a founder of the milling industry, which became second only to tobacco in Richmond’s economy. Gallego and Chevallié married sisters, and Mrs. Gallego perished in the Theatre Fire of 1811. Her husband never recovered from this blow and died in 1818.

(Virginia Historical Society) — portrait of Joseph Gallego

How much of “Moldavia” was built by the Randolphs and how much by Joseph Gallego is hard to determine. Unfortunately the first insurance policy taken out with the Mutual Assurance Society dates from 1820, when house and outbuildings were complete. From the increase in valuation for taxes during Gallego’s ownership, from $4000 in 1804 to $18,000 in 1810 and $36,000 in 1813, it is evident that he must have made changes. That these all consisted in added outbuildings (of which there were eight) is improbable. What seems likely is that he added the wing on the north with its triple window, and possibly the portico overlooking the river.

April 2017 — marker for the John Allan house, South Fifth Street

In 1825 John Allan, the foster-father of Edgar Allan Poe, inherited a fortune from his uncle William Galt, and in July of that year he bought Gallego’s late home. There Allan’s first wife died, there he quarreled with the youthful Poe when the latter contracted debts at the University of Virginia. To this house Allan brought his second wife, and in it their three sons were born. There, in 1834, “Jock” Allan, as Mordecai calls him, passed away. Mrs. Allan lived on there until her death, long afterward, in 1881.

(The Poe Blog)

The house had been little changed except that another room with a three-sided bay had replaced a porch in the rear of what was probably Gallego’s addition. After Mrs. Allan’s death it was rented to various people. Many Richmond women remember attending the art classes held there by Miss Lillie Logan. The young ladies from Miss Mary Johnson’s school marched down from the Call house to have their art lessons. The “very door” where the Raven had perched on the bust of Pallas was pointed out by some lively imagination! 

April 2017 — facing 3 South Fifth Street today

The house was full of that haunting presence. When my own grandfather rented it (briefly) about 1882, his daughters would cower beneath the covers, hearing the ghost of Poe on the stairs—“though it might have been mice!” Finally, in 1890, eight years after Mrs. Allan’s estate had sold it, the house was demolished. [HOR]

[lifelastingcouples]

Ann Clare Boothe and Henry Luce

Ann Clare Boothe was born in New York City on March 10, 1903. Her parents were not married and would separate in 1912. Her father, a sophisticated man and a brilliant violinist, instilled in his daughter a love of literature but had trouble holding a job and spent years as a travelling salesman. Her ambitious mother's initial plan for her was to become an actress.

After a tour of Europe with her mother and stepfather, Dr. Albert E. Austin, whom Ann Boothe married in 1919, she became interested in the women's suffrage movement, and she was hired by Alva Belmont to work for the National Woman's Party in Washington, D.C. and Seneca Falls, New York.

Highly intelligent, ambitious, and blessed with a deceptively fragile blonde beauty, the young Clare soon abandoned ideological feminism to pursue other interests. She wed George Tuttle Brokaw, millionaire heir to a New York clothing fortune, on August 10, 1923, at the age of 20. They had one daughter. According to Boothe, Brokaw was a hopeless alcoholic, and the marriage ended in divorce in 1929.

At this stage Clare Boothe Brokaw clearly placed immense value on being known for her style. Her dining room, which overlooked the city, Lerman remembered, “was covered with silver tea paper painted over with a panorama of the New York skyline in Matisse colors.” The table, which seated twenty, was smoky mirror glass, reflecting the mural of New York and Clare’s own skyscraper ambitions. Her living room was also very much à la mode, a study in Chinese red, black, and white. Clare had the money and nerve to prop up her ambitions; she met Condé Nast at a party and demanded a job. When he said no, she showed up anyway—she just sat down at a desk at Vogue and wrote captions until he relented. She was quickly moved to Vanity Fair, a man’s world editorially and more her style than the frivolous world of Vogue in 1930. In those days Vanity Fair was quartered in three semi-partitioned rooms between the elevators and the airy, scented suites of Vogue. Clare started off writing captions for the Hall of Fame. One of her first was about Henry Luce, the founder of Time Inc.

On November 23, 1935, Ann Clare married Henry Luce, who was publisher of Time, Life, and Fortune magazines. And the cornerstone of what is known today as Time-Warner.

Henry Robinson Luce was born in Dengzhou, China, in April 1898, Henry Luce traveled extensively throughout his life and was comfortable anywhere in the world.

The marriage between Clare and Henry was difficult. Henry was by any standard extremely successful, but his physical awkwardness, lack of humor, and newsman's discomfort with any conversation that was not strictly factual put him in awe of his beautiful wife's social poise, wit, and fertile imagination. Clare's years as managing editor of Vanity Fair left her with an avid interest in journalism (she suggested the idea of Life magazine to her husband before it was developed internally). Henry himself was generous in encouraging her to write for Life, but the question of how much coverage she should be accorded in Time, as she grew more famous, was always a careful balancing act for Henry since he did not want to be accused of nepotism.

In 1942, Ann Clare won a Republican seat in the United States House of Representatives representing Fairfield County, Connecticut, the 4th Congressional District. She based her platform on three goals: "One, to win the war. Two, to prosecute that war as loyally and effectively as we can as Republicans. Three, to bring about a better world and a durable peace, with special attention to post-war security and employment here at home." During her second term at office, Luce was instrumental in the creation of the Atomic Energy Commission.

On January 11, 1944, her only daughter from her former marriage with George Tuttle Brokaw died at age 19 in an automobile accident. As a result of the tragedy, Luce explored psychotherapy and religion She was received into the Roman Catholic Church in 1946. She became an ardent essayist and lecturer in celebration of her faith, and she was ultimately honored by being named a Dame of Malta. As a memorial to her daughter, beginning in 1949 she funded the construction of a Catholic church in Palo Alto for use by the Stanford campus ministry.

Ann Clare returned to politics during the 1952 presidential election and she campaigned on behalf of Republican candidate Dwight Eisenhower. For her contributions Luce was rewarded with an appointment as Ambassador to Italy, a post that oversaw 1150 employees, 8 consulates, and 9 information centers. She was no stranger to Pope Pius XII, who welcomed her as a friend and faithful acolyte. Her principal achievement as ambassador was to play a vital role in negotiating a peaceful solution to the Trieste Crisis of 1953–1954.

Their marriage was sexually open. Clare Luce's lovers included Ambassador Joseph P. Kennedy, Randolph Churchill, General Lucian K. Truscott, Jr. and General Charles Willoughby.

The Luces stayed together until Henry's death from a heart attack in 1967. As one of the great "power couples" in American history, they were bonded by their mutual interests and complementary, if contrasting, characters. They treated each other with unfailing respect in public, never more so than when he willingly acted as his wife's consort during her years as Ambassador to Italy. Ann Clare was never able to convert Henry to Catholicism (he was the son of a Presbyterian missionary) but he did not question the sincerity of her faith, often attended Mass with her, and defended her when she was criticized by his fellow Protestants.

In the early years of her widowhood, she retired to the luxurious beach house that she and her husband had planned in Honolulu, but boredom with life in what she called "this fur-lined rut" brought her back to Washington, D.C. for increasingly long periods. She made her final home there in 1983.

Clare and Henry Luce at the Premier of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. 1935. Henry R. Luce Papers, MS 3014, New-York Historical Society.