#hawks nest tunnel disaster

[whatsnewalycat]

Hello, Happy Labor Day to my U.S. folks.

Just wanted to share some excerpts from The Book of the Dead by Muriel Rukeyser, an epic poem about the Hawk’s Nest Tunnel Disaster.

STATEMENT: PHILIPPA ALLEN

From THE DISEASE

GEORGE ROBINSON: BLUES

From THE BILL

[girderednerve]

I was diggin’ that tunnel for six bits a day

didn’t know I was diggin’ my own grave

silicosis was eatin’ my lungs away

[truthoftheday]

Bhopal Gas Tragedy

No one can tell how many people died in the Bhopal Gas tragedy. All that the older generation remembers is a city strewn with corpses on that winter morning of cold December 1984. What they mistook for fog was toxic methyl isocyanate leaking from a pesticide factory in Bhopal. Over 5 lakh people were exposed to that gas. 40 tonnes of toxic gas. It was the world’s worst industrial disaster. Union Carbide India Limited owned by Warren Anderson. But the Bhopal factory, UCIL, was majority owned by Union Carbide Corporation, with Indian Government-controlled banks and the Indian public holding a 49.1 percent stake. In Bhopal probably tens of thousands died. America’s worst ever-industrial disaster was the Hawk’s Nest Tunnel disaster. That was also United Carbide Corporation’s. 1000 labourers died.

The estimated magnitude of disaster varies according to sources. More than 3,500 people died soon after. Authorities also say at least 15,000 people have died since the leak, although activists put the number at some 33,000. The official immediate death toll was 2,259.The government of Madhya Pradesh confirmed a total of 3,787 deaths related to the gas release. A government affidavit in 2006 stated that the leak caused 558,125 injuries, including 38,478 temporary partial injuries and approximately 3,900 severely and permanently disabling injuries. Others estimate that 8,000 died within two weeks, and another 8,000 or more have since died from gas-related diseases.

Five thousand deaths were quoted in the court case which the government itself revised to around 23,000. Over 5 lakh people were permanently disabled. Activists like N D Jayaprakash of the BGPSSS, have faced repression, arrests, denial of information and corruption to campaign against this fraud, where the numbers of affected were fudged and deaths arbitrarily counted. While the government claimed that only 3000 had died, the people’s organizations have proof of more than 20,000 dead and 5.7 lakh seriously injured.

Ten thousand people may have died immediately. Over the years may be 25,000 people would have died.

They never got punished. Civil and criminal cases were filed in the District Court of Bhopal, India. People of Bhopal never got justice. In June 2010, seven former employees, including the former UCIL chairman, were convicted in Bhopal of causing death by negligence and sentenced to two years imprisonment and a fine of about Rs. 1 lakh each.

Warren Anderson, the UCC CEO at the time of the disaster died, unpunished.

Union Carbide Corporation still exists bought over by Dow Chemicals now.

In 1989 Union Carbide paid around 47 crores as compensation to the victims. After that Dow says all its liabilities were resolved.They did not pay the money on their own. It was a Supreme Court ruling. They decided to settle at that money. The court decided to settle only on compensation, not punishment. Anderson had not shown up in Bhopal Court despite several summons through Interpol and is now dead, unpunished.

[thestenchofcheeseandregrets]

I was listening to something related to this yesterday about the Hawk's Nest Tunnel Disaster

These regulations were written in blood

[xueyangapologist]

i’ve been UNBEARABLE since that behind the bastards ep about the hawks nest tunnel disaster dropped i made sure everyone in my family was told about it even if some of them had to hear the story multiple times

[girderednerve]

i have once more Read a Book !

the book was jim morris' cancer factory: industrial chemicals, corporate deception, & the hidden deaths of american workers. this book! is very good! it is primarily about the bladder cancer outbreak associated with the goodyear plant in niagara falls, new york, & which was caused by a chemical called orthotoluedine. goodyear itself is shielded by new york's workers' comp law from any real liability for these exposures & occupational illnesses; instead, a lot of the information that morris relies on comes from suits against dupont, which manufactured the orthotoluedine that goodyear used, & despite clear internal awareness of its carcinogenicity, did not inform its clients, who then failed to protect their workers. fuck dupont! morris also points out that goodyear manufactured polyvinyl chloride (PVC) at that plant, and, along with other PVC manufacturers, colluded to hide the cancer-causing effects of vinyl chloride, a primary ingredient in PVC & the chemical spilled in east palestine, ohio in 2023. the book also discusses other chemical threats to american workers, including, and this was exciting for me personally, silica; it mentions the hawks nest tunnel disaster (widely forgotten now despite being influential in the 30s, and, by some measures, the deadliest industrial disaster in US history) & spends some time on the outbreak of severe silicosis among southern california countertop fabricators, associated with high-silica 'engineered stone' or 'quartz' countertops. i shrieked about that, the coverage is really good although the treatment of hawks nest was very brief & neglected the racial dynamic at play (the workers exposed to silica at hawks nest were primarily migrant black workers from the deep south).

cancer factory spends a lot of time on the regulatory apparatus in place to respond to chemical threats in the workplace, & thoroughly lays out how inadequate they are. OSHA is responsible for setting exposure standards for workplace chemicals, but they have standards for only a tiny fraction—less than one percent!—of chemicals used in american industry, and issue standards extremely slowly. the two major issues it faces, outside of its pathetically tiny budget, are 1) the standard for demonstrating harm for workers is higher than it is for the general public, a problem substantially worsened during the reagan administration but not created by it, and 2) OSHA is obliged to regulate each individual chemical separately, rather than by functional groups, which, if you know anything at all about organic chemistry, is nonsensical on its face. morris spends a good amount of time on the tenure of eula bingham as the head of OSHA during the carter administration; she was the first woman to head the organization & made a lot of reasonable reforms (a cotton dust standard for textile workers!), but could not get a general chemical standard, allowing OSHA to regulate chemicals in blocks instead of individually, through, & then of course much of her good work was undone by reagan appointees.

the part of the book that made me most uncomfortable was morris' attempt to include birth defects in his analysis. i don't especially love the term 'birth defect'—it feels cruel & seems to me to openly devalue disabled people's lives, no?—but i did appreciate attention to women's experiences in the workplace, and i think workplace chemical exposure is an underdiscussed part of reproductive justice. cancer factory mentions women lead workers who were forced to undergo tubal ligations to retain their employment, supposedly because lead is a teratogen. morris points at workers in silicon valley's electronics industry; workers, most of them women, who made those early transistors were exposed to horrifying amounts of lead, benzene, and dangerous solvents, often with disabling effects for their children.

morris points out again & again that we only know that there was an outbreak of bladder cancer & that it should be associated with o-toluedine because the goodyear plant workers were organized with the oil, chemical, & atomic workers (OCAW; now part of united steelworkers), and the union pursued NIOSH investigation and advocated for improved safety and monitoring for employees, present & former. even so, 78 workers got bladder cancer, 3 died of angiosarcoma, and goodyear workers' families experienced bladder cancer and miscarriage as a result of secondary exposure. i kept thinking about unorganized workers in the deep south, cancer alley in louisiana, miners & refinery workers; we don't have meaningful safety enforcement or monitoring for many of these workers. we simply do not know how many of them have been sickened & killed by their employers. there is no political will among people with power to count & prevent these deaths. labor protections for workers are better under the biden administration than the trump administration, but biden's last proposed budget leaves OSHA with a functional budget cut after inflation, and there is no federal heat safety standard for indoor workers. the best we get is marginal improvement, & workers die. i know you know! but it's too big to hold all the same.

anyway it's a good book, it's wide-ranging & interested in a lot of experiences of work in america, & morris presents an intimate (sometimes painfully so!) portrait of workers who were harmed by goodyear & dupont. would recommend

[leohtttbriar]

The Book of the Dead (1938) by Muriel Rukeyser // “On the Fence” by Winslow Homer // “Paradise” by John Prine // “Cigarette Trees” by The Local Honeys // Trillium grandiflorum blooms from Smoky Mountains National Park (photo credit: NPS)

[t4t4t]

I can't stop thinking about that video of cobalt miners in the congo with little to no protective gear struggling to pull other miners out of a collapsing mine

The fact that they're working to death LITERALLY for billion dollar corporations ran by CEOs who get to relax in mansions and on yachts makes my blood boil

This is violence of capitalism and colonialism

[sulky-valkyrie]

Hi hello you said you would finish/continue the fenders "I didn't know where else to go when I was feeling like a monster" thing if I asked you here so pretty pretty please! I need the moment of Fenris very grudgingly explaining why he hasn't turned Anders (and Merrill) over to the templars or straight killed them yet, and the emotional disaster that is these two trying to have a serious conversation!! Also, the idea of the (beloved) fucked up glowing boi who's in recovery giving advice to the (also beloved) fucked up glowing boi who's on his downward spiral?? Amazing effervescent inconceivably gorgeous. Chef's kiss.

Thank you for gracing us with your beautiful writing!!

💜💜 thank you for your kind words and I hope this is sufficient 💜💜 a direct continuation of this for @dadrunkwriting ~~~

"Am I a monster?" 

The elf frowned.  What sort of question was that?  And why, of all people, come to him to ask it?  Something must have happened in the tunnels under the Gallows.  Something Fenris probably didn’t want to know about.  He pressed the bottle of wine he’d been holding into the mage’s chest.  "Tell your demon to take the night off."

The other man clasped a hand around it on instinct and with a faint “oof” at the impact.  Fenris headed back toward the properly habitable parts of his stolen mansion, but realized partway across the enormous hall that he wasn’t actually being followed by his unexpected guest.  He turned back to look.  The human was staring at the bottle almost like he was having an argument with it.

He probably was.  "Mage,"  he called.  "Upstairs."

The other man made a faint choked sound, like couldn’t decide if he needed to laugh or cry, but he did start moving.  Fenris righted one of the chairs he’d kicked into the wall earlier that week as they headed into his cozy little nest of a room.  He wondered what he’d been so furious about when he’d done that.  The mage hovered in the doorway, looking uncertain.

Fenris perched on top of the dining room table, then pointed at the armchair.  “Well?  Sit.”

"I . . .maybe I should go.  I'm - this was a bad idea."

"Yes."  The word came out of his mouth faster than he could stop them.  It was probably true, but not the point.  Anders was Hawke’s friend, and he owed them both many times over.

The abomination’s eyes flared blue for a moment, and he stood up straighter.  "Well, thanks for the wine then, asshole."  He turned to leave.  “Don’t know why I came here,” he muttered.  "By all rights, you should want me dead.  And Merrill."

He wasn’t wrong.  On paper, and without Hawke’s influence, he’d never have tolerated either of them.  But it was no longer simply toleration, was it?  "And yet you both still live."

The mage snorted.  "There are far, far, far more comforting ways to put that."

"I think," the elf said slowly, "if it was ‘comfort’ you wanted, you’d be with Hawke.  Failing that, the Rose."  He held out the wine.  "A toast to monsters."

The human blinked at him in confusion, then shook his head. "You're drunk."

"And you're not."  Fenris pointed at the bottle.  "Fix it."

"Why, you going to have your way with me once all my inhibitions are gone?"  The mage took a gulp of wine.  "I'll have you know that I never had any inhibitions to lose, that I say yes to everything but restraints and blood, and Justice gets the hangovers, not me."

A demon with a hangover?  He frowned.  "How is that possible?"

Anders shrugged.  "Fuck if I know.  It’s why he doesn’t let me drink, but apparently almost killing a girl is a special occasion,” he said bitterly, then drained the bottle.  “Also Warden stamina applies to alcohol consumption, so even though I haven't had a drink in years -"

“Perhaps it’s the ‘almost’ he wants to celebrate, and not the killing?”  Fenris interrupted.  Talking about that thing inside the other man always made him uncomfortable.  He slipped off the table and walked over, touching the mage’s wrist gently.  He jumped anyway, and Fenris had to resist the impulse to smooth down the feathers of his ridiculous jacket.  Instead, he exchanged his own wine bottle with the now-empty one, then pushed him lightly toward the armchair.  "Sit, mage.  Danarius kept the mansion well-stocked."  With that, he went to raid the cellar.

So the abomination had nearly killed someone today.  Someone he shouldn’t have?  Someone he didn’t want to?  Was that why he was worried?  Afraid he’d lose himself to his literal demon?  

When he returned, the mage had moved the chair by the fireplace and was sitting in it staring at the bottle.  Silence didn’t normally bother him, but something about the way the mage was quiet was unsettling.  He was always moving, always talking, always fiddling with something.  But tonight . . . it was like the man was trapped inside himself.  With nothing but a demon for company.

“How does it taste?”  he asked suddenly.  

He jumped, almost dropping the wine in surprise.  His eyes darted around the room before lighting on Fenris, then he looked down at the bottle, like he was shocked it existed.  He took a sip and grimaced. “Tastes like red wine.”

Fenris perched on the table again.  “Is that a compliment or a condemnation?”  

“It’s . . . fitting.”  He didn’t elaborate.  “So . . .” the mage trailed off and just glared at the fire.

"You are a monster."  There was no soft way to say it, but perhaps there was a way to make it less like a judgment.  "So am I."  

Anders hung his head.  "Made by mages, no doubt."

"Made by one mage," the elf corrected.  "He convinced me I was nothing but a weapon, barely more than a pet, his Little Wolf," he spat.  "And I believed him.  I killed for him.  Not for a cause, not for defense, not even in anger.  I did it simply because it was his will and I had none of my own."

Anders took another sip of wine.  "Justice and I ripped a man's throat out with our teeth."

"And I have ripped a man's heart out with my hand," the other man countered.  “Many times, in fact.”

"It's not the same."

This was why mages drove him mad, and why this one in particular was so frustrating.  He rubbed his eyebrows.  "Why are you so determined to have your pain and your sins be unique?"

The mage spun around in the chair.  "How many abominations do you know?"

Fenris took a long sip of wine to gather his thoughts.  "Just one, but I hardly know everyone."

"You know enough," the human snarled, then lapsed into broody silence again.  Broody and Blondie, as Varric would say.  Well.  Broody and Broodier. 

“And I have no reason to kill you.”  That didn’t seem sufficient.  “Or turn you over to the Gallows.”

“What?”  Anders' mouth started moving without his input.  “I mean, I can’t say I’m ungrateful for such a ringing endorsement, but what?  Why?  You hate mages.  You hate me.”

Kaffas, of course he’d want an explanation.  One Fenris wasn’t entirely sure he had.  “Many mages succumb to their . . . hubris,” he started.

“I’ve read the fucking Chant of Light, you know,” Anders snapped.  “I know all about why I’m a danger, why we’re all walking bombs, why we’re the sign of the Maker’s disdain, why we’re lesser creatures, why we’re -”

“Let me finish!” Fenris growled.  The mage flinched at his tone, which made the elf’s chest tighten in . . . confusing ways.  He shook his head and tried to focus on the argument in front of him.  “You haven’t.  You’ve made mistakes, many mistakes -”

“Thanks a lot.”

He rolled his eyes.  “A great, great many mistakes.  But never out of arrogance.  Or pride.”  He licked his lips.  “You make those mistakes because you believe they are the right thing to do.  And more often than not, they are foolish -”

“Are you done insulting me?” Anders demanded.

Fenris snorted.  “Unlikely.”

The mage took another sip of wine.  “Fine, as long as I know what I’m in for.”

“You are foolish,” he started, pausing for Anders to interrupt again.  When he just made a ‘get on with it gesture’ and leaned on his hand, Fenris continued.  “You are foolish, and optimistic, and you do far more good for this rancid cesspool of a city than harm down in the sewers than you ever could if you were locked in the Gallows.  I have met more mages and magisters than I can count, and until I met -” you “- Hawke, I did not believe it was possible for one to care for anything but power.  Yet here you are.  Burning from the inside out with hope for a better world, making mistakes constantly, but never out of malice.”

“But . . . you said I was a monster,” the other man said softly.

“Yes.” He met Anders’ eyes.  “Your spirit knows if I'm lying, doesn't he? So pick your truth and live it.”

[eaterofstickers]

the gang as insects 🐛

dont ask me why i did this i dont know either. extensive thought process/explanations and pictures under the cut bc theres something deeply wrong with me

Charlie — European chafer

(Amphimallon majale)

this one was obvious bc.... well....... charlie's the dirtgrub. that's him. theyre very similar to june beetles, but one of the differences between them is that chafers r significantly smaller :) VERY destructive species in america. on all levels except physical this is charlie

Dennis — Cuckoo wasp

(Chrysis sp.)

first things first cuckoo wasps are very colorful & known for how pretty they are, which i associated w dennis being obsessed w his appearance. but theres SO MUCH MORE at play here ok dennis is such a cuckoo wasp its insane

"[Cuckoo wasps are] capable of folding their bodies over (or, more commonly, rolling into a ball) as a defensive mechanism."

"[They] cover up their vulnerable limbs and appendages when threatened by rolling up (much like a hedgehog)."

this behavior applies to dennis both literally AND figuratively:

ok next thing

"They are generally cleptoparasites, laying their eggs in host nests, where their larvae consume the host egg or larva while it's still young, then consuming the provisions."

im choosing to interpret this as taking anything he wants, ruining the lives of ppl around him bc he feels entitled to it...... also he and dee ate their 3rd sibling donnie & i think its rlly funny how that fits here

"Their characteristic "scurry and fly" search pattern when looking for hosts is quite distinctive, even when seen from a distance. They land on a surface, typically either soil or wood, and scurry a short distance, in quick, hesitant spurts, with their antennae quivering vigorously as they go – and then they abruptly take off, typically only flying a short distance before landing again and repeating the maneuver."

cannot for the love of all that is holy put into words why that gives me dennis vibes. so idk use ur imagination <3

to wrap it all up!

"The generic name [of this genus] is derived from Greek chrysis, "gold vessel, gold-embroidered dress" [...]"

.......he's the golden god.

Mac — Pharaoh cicada

(Magicicada septendecim)

"Magicicada species spend around 99.5% of their long lives underground in an immature state called a nymph."

"[...] [The nymphs] suck xylem sap from small rootlets. This sap is very low in nutritive value and nymphs grow very slowly. They will moult five times, moving on to larger roots deep in the soil as they grow over a period of seventeen years. Finally, they all tunnel up through the soil and emerge into open air, before climbing up the vegetation and shedding their skins for a final time [...]"

using this as an allegory for mac's increasing denial abt his homosexuality over the years, which culminated into him finally letting go and coming out. it took him a very. very long time to get there. just like the cicada. i also wanna point out that these guys r sometimes referred to as "17-year locusts" despite not being locusts.... mac's obsession w catholicism. his fear of whichever disaster god might send his way if he sinned. well mac...... turns out....... being gay isnt a sin. emerge from the ground. be free. spread ur wings

Dee — Hummingbird hawk-moth

(Macroglossum stellatarum)

i mean just look at it. no further explanation needed lmfao NEXT

Frank — Blue bottle fly

(Calliphora vomitoria)

again just fuckin look at it. plus theres vomit in its scientific name i think thats very fitting. one last thing:

"A female blue bottle fly lays her eggs where she feeds, usually in decaying meat, garbage, or feces."

yall remember when frank ate that rancid crow? yeah. nasty as hell. this is frank behavior. thank you for coming to my ted talk

[all excerpts taken from wikipedia]

[harry-writings]

This is Love

- The one where Y/n is left at the altar and has a hard time dealing with her emotions

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

-

At this point, Harry and Y/n are practically living together.

And it’s not like they’re together… they’re just together, all the time. 

Y/n wishes she could say that it’s because he distracts her from her break up with Rick, but she can honestly say she’s moved on and has been for quite some time now. She can’t change what happened at the wedding and she can’t keep blaming herself for things beyond her control. When Rick left her, he left her for a reason — they just weren’t meant to be.

Looking back at it now, Rick and Y/n’s relationship was everything but passionate. They loved each other and depended on each other with everything they did, but it wasn’t all there. There were never mindless, habitual kisses goodbye before they left for work, or date nights full of flowers with slow dances around their kitchen. 

Their love life was a schedule — there was no spontaneity, no excitement that was supposed to come naturally in every relationship. Towards the end, they really just kept each other around out of comfortability and obligation. They were loyal despite it all, it just wasn’t what either of them truly wanted. 

She was just blinded to it at first and the embarrassment he caused her didn’t help much with her healing, either. But as she started spending the rest of her days with Harry, she realized what she really, truly wanted... was him. 

There was never a moment her stomach didn’t dance with butterflies whenever he was around, or a moment her breath wasn’t taken away whenever she saw him for the first time — even though it never really was the first time, considering she’s always with him. 

Harry gives her a new adventure every day — a new reason to get out of bed each morning, a new memory she knows she’ll spend the rest of her life living by. And unlike anything else she ever had with Rick, Y/n lived every single day without getting her feelings hurt. 

Harry is her person. There’s no if’s or but’s about it — she belongs with him. He’s the answer to all her questions. He’s the light at the end of every dark tunnel she goes through. He’s where she ends up even when she doesn’t know where she’s going. He’s the one that finds her when she’s lost and the one that keeps her steady when the world is spinning at her feet. 

And it was so difficult for her to understand for a while, because how does someone go from being a bride at an altar for one man, to falling in love with another just a few months after?

It had been so difficult for her since the start — since the night Harry scowled and yelled at her from waking him up in the middle of the night. Since the night Y/n got shitfaced at the bar and realized she didn’t want to spend yet another night without him. Since she kissed him on her couch that night, like her life depended on it. 

Because it did. Because he was the rest of her life, even if she didn’t know it yet — even if she didn’t accept it because moving on was just so wrong at the time. 

But it all makes sense, now, three months after their first (and only) kiss and five months since Rick left Y/n. All the broken paths and all the burned bridges had led her to where she is now, sitting across from Harry at his kitchen table, admiring the view of him writing down lyrics for a song he’s been working on — his lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed, fingers twiddling with the pen he’s been chewing on all night. 

She has the side of her head resting in the palm of her hand as she tucks her bottom lip between her teeth because he just looks so damn good in his red knitted sweater, and she doesn’t want to keep doing the same dance they have been since the beginning. She doesn’t want to be just his friend anymore, she really fucking doesn’t. 

But she respected that Harry needed to make sure that if they ever did become anything, she had to be completely over Rick. He can’t stand the thought of being the rebound, especially since he’s been worshiping Y/n at her feet since the moment she moved into her apartment. 

He also doesn’t want to be that guy — the guy who sweeps women off their feet when they’re in their most vulnerable moments. Because, to be fair, Y/n definitely wasn’t in her right state of mind after Rick had called off the wedding. Emotionally, she just wasn’t ready to be with anybody but her own self, and he didn’t want to settle for something her heart wasn’t all in for.

Because his heart is all in. He’ll wait forever and a day if he has to because she is so worth it. Nothing can ever really feel wrong with the right person. And although it’s really hard for him to call Y/n anything but his girlfriend, he doesn’t mind spending his days alongside hers, watching her grow into a more beautiful and strong woman with every day that passes. 

But Y/n can’t wait any longer because she doesn’t care about Rick, or that stupid fucking wedding, or the idea of spending her life with anybody but Harry. She doesn’t even think of anybody but him — she doesn’t even want to. 

She’ll cry, she’ll beg, she’ll get on her knees if that’s what it takes for him to believe she just doesn’t care anymore. She doesn’t care about her life before Harry because Harry is her life — he defines everything, he’s what she wants to hold so close and never let go of. She doesn’t even understand how she’s ever loved anybody but him.

She doesn’t even think she ever truly has. 

He is all she wants. All she wants is to live her life in his arms and die in his arms and if it were up to her, she’d be leaning over this very table to kiss those oh, so chapped and bitten lips that she’s been craving for far too long now.

And she’s biting even further down on the side of her bottom lip, eyes unblinking because she doesn’t want to miss a moment — not when he’s all she can ever see. 

“Enjoying the view there, love?” Harry teases, eyes still trained on the notebook in front of him as he now sips on his cup of tea. And he’s got this stupid smirk on his face that makes Y/n’s knees shake beneath her. 

It wasn’t hard to notice that Y/n had been making eyes at him across the table all night, especially when she’s barely four feet away from where he sits. But he liked it — he liked it a lot — probably more than he should have, and he didn’t want to ruin the moment by opening his stupid mouth. 

But she had been staring at him for far too long for him to not say anything about it. Quite frankly, it was making him a tad bit nervous because who doesn’t get nervous and intimidated when the person they love hawks over their every move?

She doesn’t answer because she finds it quite amusing — to leave him hanging and wondering what she could possibly be dreaming about. She wonders how long it’ll take him to realize that the only thing she ever thinks about is him. 

He still doesn’t look in her direction and Y/n doesn’t know whether it makes her heart sad or if it makes her want him even more. 

“You know, a picture would last a lot long—“

“I love you.”

Well, Y/n thinks, so much for keeping him guessing. 

But it just came out without much warning — that’s the kind of effect he has on her. He makes her feel so much that it’s almost unreal, and it’s so strong Y/n can’t even control herself in the midst of her emotions.

But getting her feelings out so suddenly and unexpectedly is well worth it when she sees Harry choke on his tea, dropping the mug from his hand as everything spills and falls upon the table below him. 

He stands so haphazardly from his seat, his chair hitting the ground behind him and Y/n’s near tears at how cute it all is.

I mean, even though it’s an actual fucking disaster, it’s all so beautiful because she knows just how much Harry loves her back. 

“What—” Harry gulps, eyes wide and jaw shaking upon the very words he’s been dying to hear her say for months now. “What did you just say?” 

It’s not that he didn’t hear her, it’s more so that he’s so overwhelmed that he just doesn’t believe it. It almost feels too good to be true… and he just wants to hear her say it over, and over, and over again until it’s all he can hear and all he can breathe. 

He’s dreamt about this moment since the second he laid eyes in her. He never believed in love at first sight until he saw Y/n. From the start, he knew she was what he always wanted and what he’d been waiting his entire life for.

And just to hear her say it — just to know she feels it is making his heart all swollen and full. And every fiber in his body longs to believe that this is the start to their forever.

Y/n giggles with a soft blush on her cheeks, standing up from her own chair so that she can love all over him — the way she’s been longing to for months now.

She hums softly as she hooks her arms around the back of his neck, nearly hanging on him and she doesn’t even care how pathetic she’s coming off. She just wants Harry and everything that comes with him. Everything she could have ever wanted and everything she didn’t know she needed is right in front of her. 

Her entire world is — quite literally — in her arms and she doesn’t even think about the possibility of ever letting it go. 

“I love you so much, Harry Styles.” She gives him the most heartwarming smile he’s ever seen. “More than I could ever say.”

Her fingers are tangled at the roots of his hair and Harry’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his head from the feel of her so close, from the words she speaks so effortlessly, from the way she’s touching him just right.

His hands are all over her sides, the back of his head against the wall while he tries all he can to not shed tears that could possibly ruin the serenity of this moment.

“I love you so fuckin’ much.” Harry whimpers, pulling her even more against his chest like it was even possible. “More than anythin’. I’m never letting y’go. I promise.” 

-

Harry and Y/n are all snuggled up on her couch — Harry laying flat on his back while Y/n is on her stomach, her chest against his while her head nests right below his chin.

Their Friday nights always end up like this, especially now that they’re officially together and they always want to be as close as they possibly can. They both have off on Fridays and they’re always so tired from the past week that they don’t want to do anything besides cuddle on her couch and watch romantic comedies together. 

Usually on nights like this, they both exchange little back massages and almost always end up making love before they fall asleep pressed all up against each other. It’s their most casual and relaxed night but honestly, Y/n wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He always goes above and beyond on their little Friday tradition and with every week that passes, she questions how she had gotten so lucky to call Harry her boyfriend. The coffee table is always decorated with candles and a new bottle of wine, a fresh bowl of popcorn in the middle for them to share and her favorite candies sprawled throughout the mix. 

It’s the small, thoughtful things he does that makes her realize what she’d been deserving of her whole life. Nobody has ever given Y/n half as much as Harry has, and nobody has ever put her first in anything they’ve done. 

He really always puts her feelings and happiness before his. Even in the smallest, stupidest of things. Like their movie nights when Harry only buys her favorite candies and claims he doesn’t mind because he likes all of them, too, even though they both know he’s lying. He can’t stand her raisinet obsession or her unusual love for snow caps, yet he always sucks it up with nothing short of a smile on his face. 

And as her body lays against his like it doesn’t belong anywhere else, she really couldn’t ask for anything more. She has her whole world at her fingertips every single day, and all she’s ever desired is held tightly in her arms and she genuinely can’t wait until the day they grow old together. 

They’re on their second movie of the night when they hear a soft knock against Y/n’s door. 

“What?” Y/n sits up from where she laid across Harry because something about that knock just doesn’t feel right. It makes her stomach twist and her blood run cold because there’s genuinely no reason that anybody should be stopping by. 

Harry notices the worry spread across her face and doesn’t hesitate to pause the television, placing his elbow against the arm of the couch and lifting himself up so he can face her front door, which shakes when the unknown visitor knocks against it again. 

He turns back to look at her, a small frown stretching on his face because she just looks so uneasy and unsure. And even though he’s almost certain it’s nothing, he would do anything just to reassure her that no matter what and who is waiting outside that door, she’ll be okay. 

“You stay here, alright? I’ll get it.”

He starts to get up from his spot on the couch until Y/n grabs a hold of his cheeks. And before he can ask her what she’s doing, she places the softest, most gentle of kisses upon his lips. 

“Just in case you die.” She whispers. 

He rolls his eyes with a soft chuckle, shaking his head softly before nudging her nose with his. 

“Silly girl. I won’t die. Got a lot to live for, y’know.” He sends her that damn smirk that never fails to make her weak before pressing another kiss to her lips. “Just stay here. Sure it’s nothin’.”

He taps on her hip softly before making his way to her front door. Y/n brings the blanket they were just sharing up to her chin as she sits upon the cushions, watching Harry’s every move because she’s genuinely concerned about this god-awful feeling in her stomach. 

And even though Harry told Y/n he wouldn’t die from it, what is awaiting for her outside her small apartment door makes him feel like a part of him just might. 

“Rick.” Harry speaks his name like it’s toxic on his tongue — jaw clenched and shoulders tight because anything can happen now… and he had no preparation for this moment.

He takes a step to where Rick stands before slamming the door shut behind him, and Rick nearly stumbles backward so Harry doesn’t knock him down. And Harry doesn’t even care if he does, all he’s worried about is Y/n seeing her ex-fiancé at her — what used to be their — apartment with sadness and regret in his eyes. 

“Harry?”

Rick has to look behind him to make sure he isn’t at the wrong apartment, but he can’t say he didn’t expect this. He just didn’t expect it so soon.

It wasn’t hard to catch Harry’s lingering stares at Y/n whenever they saw each other in the hall, or the way his eyes lit up whenever she gave him the slightest bit of her attention. Rick noticed even the smallest of things whenever he was with her, and Harry was always utter shit at hiding his feelings for Y/n. 

But really? All Rick wanted was to get his girl back because he just misses her so much it hurts, but now he’s got Harry to get past and he’s not even sure what the hell he’s doing with Y/n in their apartment. 

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

It’s taking everything in Harry to hold himself back from beating the living shit out of him. He had to watch his girlfriend fall apart just to pick up her own pieces, nearly collapse from her exhaustion and break down in his arms until there was absolutely nothing left of her, all because of Rick — all because he made her feel so unworthy of love, when that’s all Y/n ever deserved. 

Rick dragged Y/n to hell and back with his bare fucking hands and all Harry wants to do is do the same to him. All he can think about is making him feel just as hurt and broken as Y/n did until he’s on the ground begging for mercy. 

But he can’t do that to Y/n. He would never be able to forgive himself if Y/n couldn’t sleep at peace over something he did, and he doesn’t want her to be afraid of him when he’s supposed to protect her and keep her safe. 

“I should be askin’ you the same question.” Harry seeths through his teeth, his arms folding over his chest to hold himself together. 

Rick’s hands turn to fists at his sides and his nose scrunches, having half the mind to knock Harry dead for even thinking of getting in his way of Y/n.

It’s only been five months and Y/n’s already found someone else to keep her happy. It breaks his heart more than he could have ever imagined and it makes him want to take it out on all the wrong people. 

Though Rick wants to destroy everything and everyone on his path, the reality is that he’s more angry at himself than he is at anybody else — even Harry.

But Rick would never admit that. He’d never admit that he walked in on Poppy sleeping with her boss in their shared bedroom, and he’d never admit that that’s all it took for him to realize letting go of Y/n was the biggest mistake of his life. 

Y/n’s a lover and a loyal one at that. When she falls, she falls all in — and when she loves, she loves with every bone in her body.

Rick always admired it and always felt like he deserved someone that always provided for him. Y/n never hesitated to do so, even when he failed to do his part in return. And he’s never met anybody so completely invested the way Y/n is in her relationships. 

And he wouldn’t have minded her moving on if it just wasn’t so soon — like he meant nothing, like the wedding meant nothing, when it still means everything to him and should still mean everything to her.

And knowing that she’s possibly living her life so happily alongside someone else makes him sick to his stomach. Because she’d never have eyes for anybody but her lover. Rick just hopes he’s still hers, somewhere buried deep inside.

“I’m here for Y/n. And since this is my apartment,” He locks his face in a permanent scowl, “I’ll be making my way.” 

Rick bumps into Harry’s shoulder as he tries to reach his hand over to the door handle, but his attempts don’t get very far when Harry pushes his arm away. “Yeah, no. That’s not happening.”

Rick lets out a breathy and daring laugh, placing his hands on his hips with his eyebrows so high up on his forehead, Harry is convinced his face is going to fall off.

“Oh, yeah? And why is that?” 

He’s challenging him and it doesn’t sit right with Harry. He’d really love to play his game under any other circumstance. He could give Rick a list of reasons as to why he won’t be going anywhere near Y/n any time soon — he could really spend the whole night going through it — but it’s only a matter of time before Y/n comes wandering out here asking questions, and all he wants is to get Rick as far away from here as possible as quickly has possible. 

“Because this is not your apartment! It stopped being your apartment when you left Y/n at your wedding for someone else like she wasn’t worthy enough to be your first choice! All you’ve ever done is hurt her and I am not—“ Harry lifts his finger up as he exhales strongly through his flared nose. “I refuse to watch my girlfriend cry.”

And there it is, the sure confirmation that Y/n and Harry and in fact dating and not just fooling around or sleeping together.

And Rick’s mouth tastes foul when he hears another man calling Y/n his girlfriend. It’s not right — that title had belonged to him for so long it leaves him with nothing left to say, or nothing left to do, than just stand here and think of how easy it was for her to move on.

Harry’s just about to open that door back up and lock Rick out for the rest of the night, until he gives up on the idea of him and Y/n and goes back to wherever the hell he came from.

But before he can make any move to do so, the front door opens behind him and he shuts his eyes softly because he all he wanted to do was avoid the situation Y/n just put herself into.

“Bubbas, is everything alri—”

Y/n’s entire world stops spinning when she sees Rick standing not even three feet away from her. She swears the wind is knocked right out of her lungs and she feels like the universe just gave her one big slap to the face. 

And it’s that look Y/n has on her face that shakes Harry’s soul, and is the exact fucking reason he tried everything he could to not let Rick get to her. Because he knows this can’t be easy — he knows that seeing him after the wedding is going to make her all confused and doubtful of every decision she’s made.

And it’s not easy for Harry, either, because what if she doubts her decision to be with him? What if seeing Rick reminds her of just how much she loved him and now, wants to rekindle all that was broken and bruised just to make it right again? 

Harry knows Y/n loves him with every piece of her being, but seeing an ex makes everything so much harder — especially when she planned on spending the rest of her life with this man. 

“Y/n.” Rick nearly cries, taking a step closer to the doorway so he can reach for the hand that looks so terribly bare without her engagement ring. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

The moment she feels Rick’s fingers graze her hand, she pulls away just as fast. Her brain still hasn’t processed a thing — still just blinking with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows — but all she knows is that she doesn’t even want him touching her.

Harry feels somewhat relieved by it, but he’s still unsure of what’s to come. All he knows is that if Y/n runs back to Rick, he really has to move out of this apartment and give up on everything he’s ever known. And never show his face around here again. 

“Come on, Y/n. Please, just hear me out.” 

Rick is so desperate it’s honestly painful to watch. And Rick is never one to showcase his emotions so easily. 

It takes a lot for him to fight for something he loves and admit that he was in the wrong. Because Rick was always right — at least that’s how he felt — and to own up to his mistakes is such an unfamiliar side of him that Y/n genuinely doesn’t know what to do. 

But when she watches his eyes fill with tears and his lips begin to quiver as he attempts to gather his feelings, she has to do everything she can not to laugh.

And it’s not a spiteful laugh, or a laugh to rub more dirt on his wounds, that she feels so compelled to get out. No… she really just finds this entire situation so incredibly funny.

He’s really just wasting so much of his time and he’s so oblivious to it. Clearly, things didn’t work out between him and Poppy, so now he’s just crawling into the arms of the first woman he could think of. 

That’s a side of Rick Y/n is familiar with. 

And he really, truly thought Y/n would be waiting on her hands and knees for his return. Sure, she was at some point in her life, but certainly not now. Because now, the only thing she’s waiting for is Harry to go on his knee and ask to take her hand in marriage. 

And Rick’s just standing here, grabbing at desperate attempts to win over her heart as if it doesn’t belong to anybody else. Which is just so damn funny to her, because all she could ever want is standing right beside her and Rick really thinks he stands a chance after everything he’s done.

And fuck, she really has to tuck her lips between her teeth because she can hardly keep it all in. 

“I should have married you, alright? I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.”

Rick is near sobs and Harry feels his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach. He’s got a frown so deep on his face because he genuinely wouldn’t know what to do if Y/n went crawling back to Rick tonight.

He legitimately feels like he’s in the middle of his own worst nightmare and he swears his world is rumbling at his own two feet.

“I’ve had so much I’ve wanted to say to you, yet I couldn’t find the right words. All I ever see is you, everywhere I go. I close my eyes and I think of how beautiful and stunning you looked at our wedding and I just — I go crazy knowing I let it all go. You’re the only woman I want and the only woman I need… and if you could just please find it in your heart to — wait, are you laughing?”

Shit, Y/n thinks, what is it with me and blowing all my covers?

Harry can hardly believe the sight of Y/n giggling in the doorway, her hand over her mouth as if trying to stop herself from doing so — but that’s all he sees. 

And Y/n can’t stop. She really, really can’t because everything he’s saying is just a ploy to take full advantage of her and she really can’t believe Rick thinks she could ever be so stupid. 

Yeah, let me just leave my person behind and take back the man who left me at the altar for his best friend. That just makes perfect beyond perfect sense.

And Rick is absolutely losing it — watching her mock and belittle his feelings like this. It’s humiliating and dragging his self-esteem through the dirt and she doesn’t even realize just how much she’s breaking his heart.

Watching her put her hand on Harry’s shoulder, too — as if asking him if he can actually believe what he’s hearing — isn’t making this any easier and he’s going absolutely mental at the sight of it. 

“God damnit, Y/n!” Rick slams the side of his fist against the frame that’s closest to her face and Harry is quick to put his hand defensively against Y/n’s stomach. “I’m really trying here! Why do you have to be such a coldhearted bitch?!”

And now… that’s just too far. Declaring his love and regrets to Y/n is one thing — despite how anxiety inducing and disrespectful it all was — but having to listen to Rick degrade her right in front of him is something Harry just can’t and won’t tolerate.

“Excuse me?!” Harry spits, his palms twitching at their urge to rip him apart from the inside out. “What did you just call my girlfriend?!” 

And it’s the small things like that — Harry defending her in everything like he can’t think of one bad thing Y/n actually is, so unconditionally and naturally — that makes this entire situation so easy on her.

She’s sure Harry feels somewhat threatened by it all. She really couldn’t imagine the thought of one of Harry’s exes trying to win him back with Y/n standing right there to watch it all happen — she knows she’d go absolutely insane.

And Y/n feels like she should feel some type of way about Rick coming back, but she doesn’t. His return only reminds her that she hasn’t lost anything at all if she still has Harry by her side — that she could never be more in love even if she tried. 

And she can tell Harry is really trying to keep himself together and not put his hands on Rick for the words he just spoke, so she does the only thing she can think of.

She grabs ahold of Harry’s hand and slightly pulls him back to give some distance between the two, and refuses to let go of his hand once he’s steady beside her. He needs reassurance more than anything right now, and she’d never be able to live with herself if she made Harry doubt himself for even a second.

“I appreciate the kind words, Rick.” Y/n offers him a small smile, and Harry’s not so sure if she’s being sarcastic from him calling her a bitch or referring to the apology he made right before. “But I’m with Harry now.”

Rick looks so devastated and torn up at the rejection but Y/n couldn’t feel bad for him even if she wanted to. 

“Please, Y/n.” Rick is on the verge of begging now. “I love you so much. We’re soulmates, baby. You have to believe me when I say I made the worst mistake of my life walking away from you. I thought this is what you wanted.”

Now, what she once thought was so funny is shaking her to the bone and filling her with a kind of anger she didn’t even know she was capable of.

Y/n shakes her head, pursing her lips together because clearly, Rick just isn’t going to let this go — no matter how excruciatingly obvious it is that Y/n doesn’t want him anymore.

“We’re not soulmates.” Y/n says the word with a scrunched face like it’s the most toxic statement in the world, because they are definitely, most certainly not anything close to it. 

“Please don’t come to my doorstep and belittle my relationship in front of my boyfriend. It was your decision to leave me for Poppy, and whatever happened between the two of you doesn’t give you permission to ruin my night and sabotage my relationship. And I don’t want anything other than to go back into my apartment and spend the rest of my night with Harry — my actual soulmate — without you knocking on this door ever again.” 

And if Harry had any remaining doubts about how the rest of this night will go, Y/n sure as hell took them all away from him. 

He’s at a loss for words, really. Because when Harry first became close with Y/n, her entire life revolved around Rick. Everything she did was about their separation and he made her lose all direction. That’s why this night could have ended either way — because maybe, just maybe, Y/n was still holding onto him in some way. 

But now, Y/n is standing against him without a blink of her eye. She’s pushing him away without any hesitation and pulling Harry so much closer to her — physically and emotionally.

He really is her first choice, Harry comes to realize. He really is the love of her life and her soulmate and everything else in between. He’s doing right by her, and giving her a kind of happiness that seems, quite literally, irreplaceable. 

“Baby, please. I’m sorry. Please just take me back.”

He’s full on sobbing and begging and nearly falling to his knees because he can’t lose her again — he can’t lose anybody else and be all alone without a hand to hold.

“No, I’m good. Thanks though.” 

And before Rick can reach for her any more, or say much of anything else, Y/n pulls Harry to where she’s standing behind the door frame and slams the door shut in Rick’s face. 

She locks and deadbolts the door as quickly as she can while Harry just stands there, watching whatever her next move will be and in too much shock to move a single muscle.

Y/n sighs loudly, rolling her eyes as she turns herself around to where Harry’s standing. What a fucking burden, she thinks.

“Well, now that that’s over.” Y/n says nonchalantly with a scoff on her face. “Let’s snuggle back up and finish the movie, yeah? I’m feeling extra needy for you right now.” 

She reaches her hands out to Harry’s frame, her fingers bending back and forth as if trying to get ahold of him. And to say that Harry’s heart is full is a complete understatement… his heart is exploding. 

She just looks so cute with a playful pout on her lips when she waits too long for him to reach out to her. And even though he still can’t grasp everything that just happened, he intertwines her hand with his.

“You chose me.” Harry says breathlessly, eyes looking up and down her body and his mouth watering knowing that every part of her is his, and nobody else’s. All fucking his. “And you laughed at him.”

Y/n giggles with a small squeal at the end, pulling him closer to her and squeezing onto his hands.

He feels a bit guilty that he feels this way— so relieved and utterly surprised — because she should have never made him doubt their relationship in the first place. But she knows she can’t put all the blame onto herself, he would have never felt the need to if Rick didn’t come crawling back and make his relationship with Harry seem like it was heaven sent. 

She knows he was just nervous and insecure because Rick really did do a number on her and Harry was the one to fix up the mess. And at one point, Rick was her first choice. 

But Harry was never just a distraction, or someone she took advantage of in her time of heartbreak. Harry was always hers and always in control of her heart, and she’ll do anything to never make him forget it.

“Of course I chose you, bubs.” She blushes, sending him a reassuring smile and eyes full of her love. “I’ll always choose you. All there is, is you.” 

He’s got tears in his eyes and a quiver in his lips that Y/n doesn’t hesitate to kiss away. Their lips fit perfectly together and never failed to leave each other breathless.

This is love. This is where Y/n was destined to be and what she was made for. Nobody could ever sway her to feel differently — nobody could ever come between it. They’re completely and utterly inseparable.

When they pull away from their little mini makeout session, Harry’s got her favorite smirk on his lips and a soft chuckle falling from his mouth.

“Was kind of funny, wasn’t it? To think he could ever take you from me. Would’ve been dead before he even had the chance to.”

Ah, that overprotectiveness and jealousy that sends Y/n into a frenzy. She would do the exact same thing if she had to — kill another woman with her bare hands for even trying to take her Harry.

Because their love makes them crazy… so unexplainably crazy, and they just can’t get enough of each other. Without one another, Y/n and Harry are just skin and bone with no matter holding their pieces together.

They complete each other entirely. 

Y/n hums. “Funniest shit I’ve ever heard. He really thought I’d leave you — you!” She speaks through the same giggle she gave to Rick whenever he spewed his feelings. “How fucking stupid.”

And whatever this feeling Harry has all over his body and extra in his chest — it’s euphoric and he feels so high, like nothing can stop him from anything when he’s got Y/n’s devotion.

He just wants to have her — all of her, pressed up against him and loving on him until his body decays and he’s got nothing left but her. He wants to burn and be alive only in her.

And she’s just too far away now, even though she’s as close as she can be. So he takes it upon himself to lift Y/n off her feet and throw her body over his shoulder.

She’s in hysterics and he realizes that her laugh is his absolute favorite sound in the world. She’s a melody, a song, a flower only for him to pick and relish in and he just wants to devour her — in every way possible.

He throws her onto the couch and Y/n’s on her back with the biggest smile on her face, and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

She is actually the closest to perfect anybody could ever get. Literal perfection is right at his fingertips and it’s all his. 

He hovers over her with his legs tangled in hers and hands all over her body. It’s innocent and passionate touches that just fit the night so perfectly — Y/n is weak beneath him and she never wants to live without it.

Harry nearly growls against her neck.

“Oh, I am so going to marry you one day.”

[thestenchofcheeseandregrets]

The Hawks Nest Tunnel Disaster and The Radium Girls is what happens when workers have no one looking out for their safety

I’m still thinking about that “is OSHA regulations Cop Behavior” post. Like. You know who thinks regulations are for losers? People who build submersibles out of logitech gamepads and rejected carbon fibre. People who trust starlink as their only surface lifeline.

Do you wanna be like the fine film on the floor of the Atlantic that was once a billionaire? Is that the hill you’re really gonna die on?

We have an expression in my field- “Regulations Are Written In Blood”

People don’t have fucking safety standards as a power trip, we have them because somewhere in the past, NOT having those regulations killed or maimed someone.

A lot of laws out there are bullshit- safety regulations sure as fuck aren’t. I have the literal scars to prove it.

[ledenews]

OCPL Presenting Program After Program in Downtown Wheeling

First,  as part of the lead-up to Wheeling's Juneteenth Observation, we present a special Monday edition of Lunch With Books. For Juneteenth - Monday, June 17 @ Noon: Appalachian Ghost: A Photographic Reimagining of the Hawk's Nest Tunnel Disaster featuring author  Raymond Thompson Jr. Contact us to reserve a copy of the book for only $27 The University Press of Kentucky is pleased to announce the release of a timely and essential book about the Black experience. "Appalachian Ghost: A Photographic Reimagining of the Hawk's Nest Tunnel Disaster" by Raymond Thompson Jr. explores the possibilities of that tragedy by reviving the faces and spaces of Hawk's Nest. Using primary source materials to re-create the workers' experiences in photographs, Thompson recontextualizes archival images to present a counter-archive that positions the Black experience at Hawk's Nest within the larger story of the American labor landscape. His photographs and poetry give voice to the silenced, resisting revisionist narratives that often ignore the sacrifices of African Americans and erase their instrumental role in the development of America's infrastructure. Copies of the book are available for only $27.  Then on Tues., June 18 at Noon: The Book of Quint with Ryan Dacko Contact us to reserve a copy of the book for only $15.00 “1100 men went into the water…” So begins the haunting monologue by actor Robert Shaw as grizzled shark hunter Quint in the movie “Jaws,” in which he describes his experience as a survivor of the sinking of the USS Indianapolis in the dying days of the Second World War. The sinking left hundreds of crew members floating in the ocean. Most died from exposure and the worst mass shark attack in recorded history. As we approach the fiftieth anniversary of the “Jaws” movie, host of the podcast “The Jaw Obsession,” Ryan Dacko has written the definitive prequel to the Jaws novel, telling the back story of Quint. Beginning with him adrift after the sinking, and following him first to San Francisco and then to Amity Island, we read of how and when he acquires his many scars, of how he comes to own his boat “The Orca,” and how he develops his technique for hunting sharks. Dacko is a US Coast Guard veteran, licensed underwater welder, and professional commercial deep-sea diver. He last visited our state in 2012 when he worked on a massive wind storm that took down power lines. “I loved the state and always wanted to go back,” he said. “This is a great opportunity.” Enter the Quint look-alike contest to win! And Tuesday Evening, June 18 (6:30 pm): Special Edition People’s University –Misconceptions About West Virginia Statehood WVU History professor Dr. Hal Gorby will discuss some of the common misconceptions about how West Virginia became a state. The program will cover some of the intense divisions among those involved. June 25 at Noon: Our Flag Was Still There: The Story of the Star Spangled Banner Our Flag Was Still There details the improbable two-hundred-year journey of the original Star-Spangled Banner—from Fort McHenry in 1814, when Francis Scott Key first saw it, to the Smithsonian in 2023—and the enduring family who defended, kept, hid, and ultimately donated the most famous flag in American history. Tom McMillan, former VP/Communications for the NHL’s Pittsburgh Penguins, tells a story as no one has before. Digging deep into the archives of Fort McHenry and the Smithsonian, accessing never-before-published letters and documents, and presenting rare photos from a variety of sources, McMillan follows the flag on an often-perilous journey through three centuries. Our Flag Was Still There provides new insight into an intriguing period of U.S. history, offering a “story behind the story” account of one of the country’s most treasured relics. Read the full article

[sapropel]

HEY KIDS WE ARE REBRANDING THE HAWK'S NEST TUNNEL DISASTER TO BE ABOUT THE GIRLBOSSIFICATION OF LUNG DISEASE. RETWEET IF YOU THINK LABOR IS SACRED AND MARX WAS RIGHT.