#memphis mayor

[gaasubap]

With 19 candidates on the Memphis mayoral ballot, this is a nightmare.

Van Turner is a bigger name who's helped with taking down the confederate statues and works with the NAACP.

But Brandy is the furthest left leaning candidate.

They are the only two I'm considering voting for atm.

Vote October 5th

[ausetkmt]

FOX13 Memphis: State of Emergency extended another week for Memphis, mayor says

MEMPHIS, Tenn. - Temperatures are beginning to warm up and the snow and ice are finally leaving us, but Memphis Mayor Paul Young has extended the State of Emergency for Memphis another week. 

The State of Emergency was originally issued on January 15 as inches of snow blanketed the city. The order will now last until at least January 29, 2024.  

"The freezing temperatures and precipitation created icy conditions on roadways and surfaces within the City and presented a significant danger to public safety, impacted the operation of emergency vehicles, and impeded the delivery of essential goods and services, the effects of which are still ongoing," Mayor Young wrote in his order to extend the State of Emergency. 

The frigid weather first led to a water conservation order from Memphis, Light, Gas and Water (MLGW) and eventually to a boil water advisory for all MLGW water customers. 

MLGW said that, as of Monday, January 22, the utility company has fixed more than 56 broken water mains and responded to more than 4,000 customers that reported broken pipes. 

[italut]

Judge Joe Brown, Choice of the Century

Judge Joe Brown’s mayoral candidacy in Memphis is characterized by a multitude of fine qualities that make him an exceptional choice for the position. With a distinguished career as a judge, Brown brings a deep understanding of the legal system and a commitment to upholding justice and fairness. One of Brown’s standout qualities is his extensive experience in the courtroom. Over the years, he…

[foone]

Your best guess is that you've been in this time loop for something north of 15 years. You've lived that day, April 9th, 1997, something like 6000 times. You think... The second most ironic thing about being in this time loop* is that you have ADHD, and time blindness has always been something you've suffered with.

The time loop hasn't helped. You'll really get into a book, and don't look up from it until it's yesterday. Or, earlier today? Or tomorrow, it's all the same day. You wake up in your bed at 8:27, having slept through your alarm, no matter what happens. You've had plenty of time to do all the classic time loop things: told everyone (they forget the next day), kissed everyone (a surprising number of people turn out to be up for itl), tried to run (you made it all the way to Memphis one day, but it didn't make any difference), tried to make everything perfect and right (harder than you'd think, and there's nothing obvious that needs fixing), and gotten yourself exploded and shot and run over. You even made it into orbit once, NASA still swearing at you on the radio the whole way up. You've robbed all the local banks, kidnapped the mayor, and stolen half the stuff in the town, just to see what people have. Why not? It's hard to have a sense of morality when there are no repercussions to any actions, at least none that last more than 24 hours.

You convinced a scientist to shoot neutrinos at you once, thanks to something you'd read in a book on time. Didn't seem to make any difference, though you could swear the next day felt different, in some hard to define way.

You've gotten into a rhythm of starting each day and just walking out your front door, to visit a different place in the city, and knock on their door. If they're home, you ask questions, then use the answers next time to get further. If not, you let yourself in and see what their house looks like from the inside.

Even their shocking crimes no longer can shock you. Mr. Stevens is a burgler, Jenny J. is halfway through murdering her husband, Alex over on 5th street has a basement full of photos they shouldn't have, and more neighbors than you'd think are cooking meth or growing cannabis in their little backyard sheds or closets.

You can go to the police, you can confront them, you can explose them, or you can get a weapon and go all vigilante on them... It doesn't matter in the long run (and for you, the long run is very short indeed). They'll be fine the next morning, back at it again like nothing happened.

You wake up that same Wednesday morning, put on some clothes, and walk out the door. You got into a gimmick of crossing the road with your eyes closed: you know where the cars are, and if you keep the same pace, they definitely won't hit you. Besides, if you do, you wake up back in your bed. Big woop.

But you don't make it to the road this time. You trip, falling on the hard concrete of the sidewalk. What the hell? Your arms ache from catching yourself, and you have to suppress the time-looper instinct of "I hurt. Restart the loop!",at least until you figure out what happened.

You look back and there's a sneaker sitting on the sidewalk. A perfectly normal shoe, just a little skuffed up. A bit down the sidewalk, there's another, the other foot presumably.

You have a moment of equal parts panic and elation. You're out of the loop? You're out of the loop! This might be Thursday.

You gather yourself from the sidewalk and run back up the path to your door. You open the newspaper... April 9th. This is still the same day. You look back at the road, seeing the patterns of crossing cars you've seen thousands of times before. You listen, and your neighborhood sounds right. You can hear Timothy down the road yelling about baseball, so it's not 9:14 yet.

This isn't a new day. This is the day. This is your day. So why is something different? What, a partial time loop? And almost time loop? Most things are the same, but not all? It makes no sense.

You hear yelling down the road. You jog towards it, as an out of place sound just doesn't happen in your day. Around the corner there's a police officer shouting at a woman who is rapidly disrobing and flinging her discarded clothes at the officer, who is shouting at her and his radio. So far, she seems to be winning, but she's about out of linen ammunition.

You realize you don't recognize her. She's not one of the people you know, and you know everyone. She's someone new, the very anthesis of what a time loop is about. That, combined with recognizing that charicatistic disdain for consequences makes you gasp. My God... She's another time looper. She's done this day before, and it's just repeated, and now she's doing everything to see what happens. You're not alone in this crowded city anymore! You run towards her, eager to introduce yourself.

* Themost ironic thing about being in this time loop is that every copy of Groundhog Day at your local Blockbuster is checked out.

[taraross-1787]

This Day in History: Memphis Belle

On this day in 1943, a B-17 Flying Fortress completes its 25th combat mission without losing a member of its crew. Memphis Belle would return to the United States, embark on a war bond tour, and become one of the most famous bombers to emerge from World War II.

She was nearly sold for scrap metal after the war, but Memphis mayor Walter Chandler saved her for $350. Today, she’s been refurbished and sits at the National Museum of the U.S. Air Force in Dayton, Ohio.

Memphis Belle’s survival was no small feat.

The story continues here: https://www.taraross.com/post/tdih-memphis-belle

[jartita-me-teneis]

En 1947, una mujer entró en una tienda de comestibles en Memphis, Tennessee, para entregar un rollo de película para revelar. Tan pronto como entró, se dio cuenta de que le quedaba una última exposición.

Se fijó en un chico que estaba fuera de la tienda y le pidió que dejara su nueva bicicleta junto a ella para poder terminar el rollo de película y entregárselo. Jamás se imaginó que ese joven se convertiría en la mayor estrella de rock y el mayor icono que el mundo haya conocido jamás.

En 2014, esta foto finalmente fue publicada en la revista Vanity Fair, mostrando al joven Elvis Presley.

[termlimitsnow]

Ubangi Stomp

Well I rocked over Italy and I rocked over Spain

I rocked in Memphis, it was all the same

Well, I rocked through Afrika and rolled of the ship

And seen them natives doin' an odd lookin' skip

I parted the weeds and looked over the swamp

Seen them cats doin' the Ubangi-stomp

...for some reason, I couldn't help but think of this song when I heard the mayor of L.A. was in Africa ...while her city burns.

[eptodaytommorowforever]

Elvis Presley The Great Humanitarian;

Elvis Presley shakes hands with outgoing Memphis mayor Claude Armour December 17Th In 1963 Top candid photo rare unseen till now! b/w candid photo. courteusy of the memphis chamber of commerce.

ElvisPresley Brit-influenced winter coat on, poses in front of the 50 Memphis charities plaque December 17th In 1963 Bottom candid photo rare unseen till now! b/w candid photo. courteusy of the memphis chamber of commerce.

[jrooc]

✨Weekly Tag Wednesday Thursday✨

A day late and a buck short but Happy Birthday @energievie! Thanks for the tags you beautiful tropical fish @spookygingerr @gallapiech @deedala @guinguin1984

@burninface @thepupperino @sgtmickeyslaughter @michellemisfit

when is yours? Oct 15

where were you born? Revelstoke, BC. The mayor was also the only Dr.

how do you feel about your legal name? are you using it online and/or IRL? No one calls me 'Jessica' unless I'm in trouble.

All the mean girls in movies when I was growing up had the same name as me so I didn't love it. But I like it with my last name.

how about your sign? do you feel it "fits"? Mostly, yes. Except Im not that balanced - the rest? yes.

what's your earliest memory related to your birthday? I don't have a great memory for childhood stuff. I remember one, getting a VHS of the Blair Witch project and going to exchange it for Now and Then soooooo

what's one of the best gifts you've ever received? My first kindle maybe? Or when my best friends came with me down to Nashville + Memphis for my 30th.

how about one of the best you've given yourself? my bike.

what's your favourite cake flavour? a cinnamon roll (not a big cake fan)

how about your favourite flowers? tulips

have your ever thrown a birthday party? If yes, tell us about your favourite one. Yes! I threw a cool Octoberfest one for a friend.

what's the ultimate birthday song? *mind blank* uhhhh In Da Club by 50 cent? I'm gonna regret this later.

and last but not least, pick a celebrity with whom you share your birthday. Ginuwine lololol > cue Pony

Not tagging anyone 'cause I'm late and busy but love you all so muchhhhhhh. If you see this, doooo it.

[memphisfoodnotbombs]

In this video, the Memphis chapter of Food Not Bombs faces harassment from the Blue Suede Brigade (BSB), a seemingly subservient apparatus of the Downtown Memphis Commission (DMC). BSB targeted and disrupted our compassionate service under the pretense of requiring a permit for sharing food in a public park. This incident occurred during a picnic at Court Square Park on Saturday, 10/14/2023, at approximately 2:05 pm.

The DMC, a business entity supposedly responsible for governing residential and business areas in downtown Memphis, receives public funding based on property value assessments and utilizes the BSB as the “eyes and ears of the business community.”

The requirement of a permit to offer a basic necessity further highlights the systemic injustice endured by our community.

This incident is not isolated but represents an ongoing problem concerning the DMC. We have attempted to engage with the DMC and elicit a plausible explanation for their legal authority to impose permit requirements on non-vendors in a public space. Despite sending a letter to the DMC over 11 weeks ago, their response has been evasive and unsatisfactory.

Memphis mayor-elect Paul Young, President/CEO of the DMC, vaguely suggested that the issue would be addressed internally through comments on our social media pages. Why then was the Blue Suede Brigade officer unaware of this supposed resolution?

The persistent harassment we face is a direct result of the DMC's failure to provide a satisfactory answer to our legitimate question: "We ask the Downtown Memphis Commission to immediately clarify its legal authority to require and issue permits to non-vendors."

When will the DMC cite its legal authority?

The recent harassment exposes the negligence and indifference of the DMC towards addressing the legitimate concerns we have raised. We question the DMC's reluctance to cite their legal authority and establish a justifiable basis for impeding acts of compassion and the sharing of food in public parks.

During the incident, one of the individuals seeking food assistance was a homeless veteran who had not eaten in over 24 hours. Another unhoused person recounted being denied access to local shelters due to not possessing the "proper" identification simply because they hailed from another state. These stories reflect the dire situations faced by the unhoused population in Memphis while exposing the failure of the existing system to meet their basic needs.

Unhoused individuals are our neighbors. It is our collective responsibility to support and uplift them, rather than subjecting them to further harm and exclusion. It is not a crime to extend a helping hand, enjoy a picnic in a public park, or share food with those in need. Compassion and solidarity should never be trumped by bureaucratic restrictions.

The Memphis Flyer

We invite you to read our open letter to the DMC for further details: https://docs.google.com/document/d/19xCJbdgkjPBVw-r6oC_m9tuNPfIVixHFAz-KlX0MZ9E/edit?usp=sharing

Find more videos, press articles, links to socials and information in our Linktree: https://linktr.ee/memphisfoodnotbombs

Link to this video on YouTube: https://youtu.be/MNxS11bK87c?si=8bzqe2du6ZpECWfg

In this video, the Memphis chapter of Food Not Bombs faces harassment from the Blue Suede Brigade (BSB), a seemingly subservient apparatus of the Downtown Memphis Commission (DMC). BSB targeted and disrupted our compassionate service under the pretense of requiring a permit for sharing food in a public park. This incident occurred during a picnic at Court Square Park on Saturday, 10/14/2023, at approximately 2:05 pm.

The DMC, a business entity supposedly responsible for governing residential and business areas in downtown Memphis, receives public funding based on property value assessments and utilizes the BSB as the “eyes and ears of the business community.”

The requirement of a permit to offer a basic necessity further highlights the systemic injustice endured by our community.

This incident is not isolated but represents an ongoing problem concerning the DMC. We have attempted to engage with the DMC and elicit a plausible explanation for their legal authority to impose permit requirements on non-vendors in a public space. Despite sending a letter to the DMC over 11 weeks ago, their response has been evasive and unsatisfactory.

Memphis mayor-elect Paul Young, President/CEO of the DMC, vaguely suggested that the issue would be addressed internally through comments on our social media pages. Why then was the Blue Suede Brigade officer unaware of this supposed resolution?

The persistent harassment we face is a direct result of the DMC's failure to provide a satisfactory answer to our legitimate question: "We ask the Downtown Memphis Commission to immediately clarify its legal authority to require and issue permits to non-vendors."

When will the DMC cite its legal authority?

The recent harassment exposes the negligence and indifference of the DMC towards addressing the legitimate concerns we have raised. We question the DMC's reluctance to cite their legal authority and establish a justifiable basis for impeding acts of compassion and the sharing of food in public parks.

During the incident, one of the individuals seeking food assistance was a homeless veteran who had not eaten in over 24 hours. Another unhoused person recounted being denied access to local shelters due to not possessing the "proper" identification simply because they hailed from another state. These stories reflect the dire situations faced by the unhoused population in Memphis while exposing the failure of the existing system to meet their basic needs.

Unhoused individuals are our neighbors. It is our collective responsibility to support and uplift them, rather than subjecting them to further harm and exclusion. It is not a crime to extend a helping hand, enjoy a picnic in a public park, or share food with those in need. Compassion and solidarity should never be trumped by bureaucratic restrictions.

No one needs permission to share the gift of compassion. Food is not a privilege but a fundamental human right that must be secured for all individuals.

We invite you to read our open letter to the DMC for further details: https://docs.google.com/document/d/19xCJbdgkjPBVw-r6oC_m9tuNPfIVixHFAz-KlX0MZ9E/edit?usp=sharing

Find more videos, press articles, links to socials and information in our Linktree: https://linktr.ee/memphisfoodnotbombs

Link to this video on YouTube: https://youtu.be/MNxS11bK87c?si=8bzqe2du6ZpECWfg

#FoodNotPermits #FoodNotBombs #FoodNotBombsMemphis #MemphisFoodNotBombs #PermitPaul #PaulYoung #Memphis #MemphisTennessee #MayorOfMemphis #MemphisTN #PleaseShare #DowntownMemphis #DowntownMemphisCommission #BlueSuede #BlueSuedeBrigade #FoodIsARight #FoodIsAHumanRight #Love #Compassion

[memphistn]

On May 8th 1925, despite not knowing how to swim, Tom Lee helped save the lives of 32 passengers who were swept under the notoriously dangerous Mississippi River by a sinking steamboat. After seeing the boat capsize, Lee, who was a river worker and at the time on his way back to Memphis after his route, immediately steered his boat named "Zev" to the wreckage. He risked his life, piling the men, women, and children into his boat before driving them back to shore and returning to the scene to rescue more. After his 4th trip back to the sandbar, he even built a fire from driftwood for the rescued folk to warm themselves by. Even after authorities came in large rescue boats to seek possible survivors, Lee still stayed behind in his Zev till morning searching for bodies. Lee eventually was recognized for his heroic acts. He was brought to meet the mayor, the president, and photographed beside his famous Zev. Described as bashful and shy, Lee only asked for one thing in return: a house. A campaign raising donations was able to afford him a brick house that still stands on 923 N Mansfield. For a short while there was a segregated "blacks only" swimming pool named after him. In 1952 Memphis created a granite obelisk in honor of him, with a plaque that read "A very worthy negro", a stark reminder of the dehumanization black americans experience. Luckily in 2003 it was replaced with a bronze sculpture of Lee pulling a passenger onto his Zev. This remains a much more respectful and deserving monument to the Memphis hero. As well as the still standing Tom Lee park. In 1952 he died from cancer, and his resting site is at Mt. Caramel Cemetery where his head stone reads "Lead me in the path of peace"

main source

[pxnsneverland]

Beauty and the Boss | austin!elvis x oc (part 6)

plot summary: Laura Jean Walker is the daughter to Louisiana’s most powerful mafia boss, but to her, he’s just her jail warden. When she sneaks out to the Louisiana Hayride with her friend she sees Elvis Presley perform and instantly knows something is special about this boy. Especially when he saves her from being assaulted by a townie. She thinks she’s on cloud 9 until she gets kidnapped in the middle of the night by the Memphis Mafia led by Elvis himself. Will Laura Jean try to free herself or will something hold her back from finding her way home?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 2169

warnings/notes: I said I would try to make another part by the end of the week and I was actually able to keep my promise! I'm glad I finally got to his part because this is my favorite scene in the movie to adapting it to my story was fun :) warning: some police brutality

Chapter 6

 The following day was the Russwood Park benefit performance. 10,000 people, perhaps more, crammed onto the baseball field to witness Elvis perform. Meanwhile, Elvis, I, Colonel, Gladys, and several Memphis Mafia members were traveling in two automobiles towards the location. Elvis, Colonel, and I were in the rear of the first car, which had two cops in the front. Colonel was opposed to me riding with Elvis, but Elvis persisted. I began to suspect it was more for his protection than mine. He appeared more apprehensive than ever for this performance after our night out at Club Handy. I knew he had something planned, but even I was unsure what it was. Elvis sat next to me, his eyes downcast, periodically staring out the car window while gripping my hand. I could see the Colonel frowning at me from time to time. My reactionary glance tempted him to say something about Elvis and me since I would have welcomed an opportunity to tell him how I felt about him.

As soon as we arrived to Russwood Park, the commotion erupted, as it usually did. Fans flocked to the car, with one even jumping on the hood before sliding down so she didn't get entirely run over. When the automobile slowly made its way through the gates to the field, cameras flashed and hands beat on the doors and windows.

Colonel broke the stillness in the car by saying to Elvis, “The mayor loved you on Steve Allen. All the important people did.” Elvis didn't turn to face him, but his grasp on my hand strengthened, and I gripped it back, placing my other hand on top of his. “What song are you going to sing tonight?” Colonel asked.

Elvis looked up at that point. “I’ve made no decision. I’ll feel it.”

I swallowed the knot that had formed in my throat. I assured Elvis that I would stand by him no matter what, even if it meant going against the Colonel and everyone else who wanted him to stop being himself. It didn't mean I wasn't terrified for him. With his black Beale Street suit, red tie, and eye makeup I did on him before leaving Graceland, he definitely looked like the old Elvis tonight. The car passed through the gate with the car behind us, with the rest of our company close after. I looked back as security locked the gates and attempted to halt the mob from scaling the walls. When we approached the stage, there were guards and cops everywhere, as if it were an execution trial rather than a concert. Everyone who wasn't a guard had a camera pointed towards the automobile, trying to capture that money moment. I had to hide my eyes from the harsh light.

“Pay no mind to all the cameras,” Colonel comforted, “Those are our friends in the vice squad. They don’t mean nothing. Ain’t that right, chief?”

The police chief swung around, disregarding Colonel, and staring directly at Elvis. “As long as you don’t so much as wiggle a finger.”

I locked my gaze on him. “Your wife must find you a ball of fun.”

“Does your Daddy know the kind of people you associate with, little girl?”

“You mean people with more manners than the chief of law enforcement around these parts? Yes, sir, he sure does.”

It was now his turn to frown at me. “Watch yourself, girly.”

Elvis gave me a little smile from the corner of my eye. Colonel rushed Elvis and me out of the vehicle before any more sneaky insults could be exchanged. The only individuals who didn't appear to be pleased to meet Elvis were the cops who stood in a line on both sides of us as we went. When we came closer, a member of Elvis' band gave him his guitar.

“Oh, yes, sir, good people!” said the emcee via the microphone, “A big thank you to Shorty Morgan’s Dixie Dolls! But I know some young people are very excited about this next act!”

Elvis draped his guitar strap across his back. He leaned down and whispered in my ear. “I want you in the front row. I wanna be able to see you.”

I nodded as I was dragged away by someone who pushed through the crowd until I was front and center on the 'White People' side, directly in front of the stage. As an ardent admirer pressed me in the back, I bit on my thumb nail, groaning. I was sweating profusely because I was so frightened. I offered a little prayer to God, pleading with him to let Elvis be alright. Gladys was caressing his face and whispering something in his ear when I discovered him on the side of the stage. He pointed to the front of the stage, obviously indicating where I was because I wasn't with her as usual.

“Elvis Presley!” exclaimed the emcee to the delight of the audience. Colonel shouted something to Elvis right before he stepped onstage, and I saw Elvis' forehead wrinkle in irritation. Elvis took his place on the stage. He had a strong, determined expression on his face. I'd only seen him wear it while he was doing mafia business. That was a commanding expression. That encouraged the audience while making me believe that the night's events had only just begun. His gaze scanned the throng until he spotted me. That reminded me of that first night at the Louisiana Hayride, when I was lost in the tide pools of his eyes, entranced by him. I blew him a kiss and nodded, which appeared to be all the assurance he needed as he approached the microphone.  

“There’s been a lot of talk about the new Elvis,” Elvis stated. The audience booed, not hesitant to express their displeasure with the Elvis society desired. “And of course, that other guy.” He raised his finger and wiggled it in the air while singing "Hound Dog." I laughed and grinned. This was my Elvis, the rebel, the boy who didn't have to be anything other than himself in order to be loved. I wished I could see the chief's expression from where I was.

“There’s a lot of people saying a lot of things,” he said, “Of course…you gotta listen to the people that you love.” He returned his gaze to the crowd after a quick glance at the Colonel. “But in the end…” He tracked me down again. “…you gotta listen to yourself.” While the crowd applauded, I smiled even brighter at him. “So, I want you to know those New York people ain’t gonna change me none.” He removed his instrument and spoke something to his band that made them smile. “I’m gonna show you what the real Elvis is like tonight!”

The band played the initial chords of “Trouble” and Elvis began to sing. He was more at ease and unconcerned than I had seen him since the Steve Allen performance. His body began to move as he felt the music go through him, and the audience went crazy, pressing against the security line to get closer to Elvis. I could see the Dixie Dolls struggling to get onto the stage, reaching for the man who was just out of reach. He suddenly let out a note and sank on his knees in front of me, singing directly to me. While the females around me clutched onto his jacket, he leaned out and grasped my face in one of his hands. He pressed a kiss on my lips without warning, and I sucked in a breath muffled by his mouth on mine. Yeah, I'd kissed other boys before, but nothing like this. For a split second, nothing could be heard except Elvis's breath mingled with mine. My heart was racing so rapidly that I thought I was going to pass out. Then he smiled and walked away, returning to his song with a wink. I could feel the envious stares, but I didn't mind. I couldn't take my gaze away from the mafia gangster who had captured my heart while I wasn't even looking.

The sound of shouts jolted me out of my trance. I cast a glance behind me. The barrier dividing the white and black youths had been broken down, and they were beginning to blend together while dancing and singing to the music. It sparked a commotion among the cops who were attempting to separate them once more. As batons were drawn and people were struck, there was yelling and screaming. While the commotion erupted, Elvis continued to play, crawling across the platform and nearly shouting into the microphone. I was trapped between the stage and the crowd, unable to move to escape the turmoil that was becoming worse by the second. Elvis had fallen to the ground, his jacket thrown away, soaking in the affection of his supporters who had been holding him aloft in the air. He was able to return to the stage and finish the song. Colonel attracted my attention from beneath the stage. He seemed disturbed and dissatisfied, and if I hadn't been striving to liberate myself, I would have been happier.

Officers stormed the stage, yanking Elvis off the ground. He threw down the mic and began shoving and cursing at them. Even his band was arguing with the authorities, pleading with them to let him go. I grabbed a wire and dragged myself out of the crowd and onto the stage. I didn't even think twice about it as I dashed up to Elvis, who was shoving up against the police.

“Let him go! Leave him alone!” I yelled.

I was grabbed and yanked away by one of the policemen. I was hurled down onto the stage almost as abruptly. My head slammed the hardwood, knocking the wind out of me and leaving me disoriented for a time. Still, I crawled back to Elvis. A baton struck me in the back, causing me to stop crawling.

“Laura Jean!” yelled Elvis.

He'd gotten away from the men who were attempting to pull him away. He pushed away the cop who had attacked me. “Get off her!” He drew me to my feet. He was sweaty, his clothing was ripped, and his makeup was smudged over his eyes, yet he was still the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen. “Laura Jean, baby, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” All of the adrenaline had dulled the agony in my back that I was certain I would experience later. The cop who had hit me regained his feet and was making his way towards us when he noticed something in Elvis's hand and came to a halt. Elvis placed his arm around my waist and drew me to him, without taking his gaze away from the officer. I followed the officer's attention to Elvis's unattached hand. His chest heaved up and down swiftly as he clutched a pocketknife in the other hand.

Elvis pressed my head into his shoulder as he slid his hand from my waist to my hair. He spoke in hushed tones that only I could hear. His voice was kind and soothing when he spoke to me. “Go find my mama.”

I shook my head while gripping his shirt. “No! I’m not leavin’ you!”

He kissed my brow and scratched my scalp like if he were comforting an animal. “Darlin’ if you stay…if they touch you again, I’m going to jail for more than just causin’ a riot.” Elvis tilted his head down to stare into my eyes. He really meant what he just said. He'd do anything to keep these men away from me. “Go find my mama…now.”

“Put the knife away and I will.” I didn't want him to get into any more trouble.

He slid the knife closed and dropped it onto the stage. “Go.”

I nodded and let go of him, racing down the stage stairs and weaving between the wild mob until I saw Ms. Gladys outside the car, crying. She embraced me and expressed her concern that she couldn't locate me. She had obviously refused to go without me, despite the Colonel's urgings. We both looked to the opposite side of the stage, where Elvis was being taken to the vehicle in which we had come.

“Elvis!” Gladys screamed, terrified for her son.

“Mama, you get in the car! Laura Jean, Mama, get in the car!” he yelled back. The cops shoved him into the back seat, and slammed the door shut behind him. I noticed him peering out the back window at us.

Even though I was as anxious and afraid as Ms. Gladys, I grabbed her arm. “Let’s go, Ms. Gladys. We gotta go.”

She let me pull her into the backseat, which closed once the Colonel got in. I stared out the back window as the automobile began to drive away. As I watched the car with Elvis in it go in the opposite direction, I burst into tears.

Stay tuned for part 7!! Click HERE to view!

[ausetkmt]

This Day in History

Time Periods: 1866

Themes: Reconstruction

The New Orleans Massacre (also known as the New Orleans Riot) occurred on July 30, 1866, when white residents attacked Black marchers gathered outside the Mechanics Institute, where the reconvened Louisiana Constitutional Convention met in response to the state legislature enacting Black Codes and limiting suffrage.

As explained in “An Absolute Massacre: The 1866 Riot At The Mechanics’ Institute“:

The parade of marchers had thwarted off the mob on the other side of Canal, but once they made it to the Mechanics’ Institute, where the convention was taking place inside, they were beset by more violence. A gang of white supremacists and ex-Confederates attacked. Fire sirens went off, signaling police to attack. They were sent by the mayor.

“There was panic because the police and firemen, armed, surrounded that building and began advancing,” says [Caryn Cosse] Bell. “The attack was premeditated. Lead police chief Harry T. Hayes, what he was doing at the time was recruiting policemen from Confederate veterans. They stormed in and started shooting, chasing people down the street.”

The brutal attack led to a total of 150 casualties, including 48 deaths (44 African Americans and three white Radical Republicans).

The New Orleans and Memphis riots strengthened the argument by Radical Republicans (a faction in the Republican Party) that President Johnson’s Reconstruction plan was insufficient and greater protection of African Americans was needed.

Read more at Black Past.org. Find resources below to Teach Reconstruction and to teach about the long history of the fight for voting rights.

[suspiciousmindsxo]

February 25, 1961: Elvis performed in downtown Memphis at Ellis Auditorium at 3:00p.m. and 8:30p.m. These shows were done as a Memphis charity benefit. Attendance at the first show was 3,860 and at the second 6,540. The shows raised $51,612, with $47,823 distributed among 26 Memphis charities, and $3,789 went to the Youth Center, in Elvis' hometown of Tupelo, Mississippi.

Tennessee governor Buford Ellington and Memphis mayor Henry Loeb both declared this day as “Elvis Presley Day.”

Here is an interview Elvis gave that day:

https://youtu.be/VXV4KqCpYAU

Ellis Auditorium was located 255 North Main Street. It was a 10,000-seat multi-purpose arena. It opened in October 1930 and it was demolished in 1997. Today the Cannon Center for the Performing Arts sits on the property.

[pikmin-applebloom-art]

won't do any "drawing"-tobers this year sadly. here's page 2 of my webcomic prologue.

[ID: a manga comic with the turnip dress villager from animal crossing and a Mii that got Isekai'd.

The first panel shows the villager, Mayor Theodosia, talking to the protag. Her office has two large windows, a wooden desk, chairs, and wallpaper with a repeating fish pattern and a wooden floor.

Text: But yeah, we're happy to have ya move in. What brings ya here, anyway?

How I got here? well, uhh...

The second panels shows the Mii. They have pale skin and pale brown hair in a low ponytail. They are wearing dark jeans and a "memphis" patterned button-down. They look embarrassed and have a huge sweatdrop and they are blushing. One hand is behind their head.

Text:

I-I fell through a portal and landed in a traincar somehow.

The third panel takes place 15 minutes earlier. The mii is upset as they are falling through the portal. The also have lemon print socks and their jeans are cuffed. They have sweat drops and a "?!" to go with their frightened expression.

It happens to be a partly cloudy day when they fall through the portal.

Text:

AAAAAAGH!

I DID NOT FRICKIN' EXPECT THIS!

end of ID.]

Decided that my self-insert protag should be a Mii. Also they found out that they're a Mii when they notice their hands on the train car.

IDK if Miis have ears but I guess their outer ears are invisible?

[singeratlarge]

MY SONG OF THE WEEK: “(There is) Nothing Like Williamsport”—Songwriters have written tributes to cities all over (Chicago, London, L.A., Memphis, NYC, Tokyo…) and, one inspired day, I decided to write and record a song about where I was living at the time: Williamsport, Pennsylvania. It’s best known for Little League Baseball (the LL World Series is happening there last week), but the small city of “Billtown” has other features, benefits, histories, and attractions, and I hope I captured that in this song. Mix by Tim Breon (remastered by Xavier Scott Francis).

https://johnnyjblairsingeratlarge.bandcamp.com/track/there-is-nothing-like-williamsport

#williamsportPA #pennsylvania #littleleaguebaseball #baseball #citytribute #worldseries #fourthstreet #hepburnstreet #mayor #gabecampana #funkrock #artrock #poprock #singersongwriter #johnnyjblair #singeratlarge