#st james missouri

[conandaily2022]

St. James, Missouri teacher Rikki Lynn Laughlin arrested; Did she contact a boy via Snapchat?

Rikki Lynn Laughlin, 24, of Leadwood, Missouri, United States is originally from Irondale, Missouri. She is married to Grant Andrew Laughlin, 23. Rikki is an alumna of Central Methodist University in Fayette, Missouri. From 2019 to 2020, she was a preschool teacher’s assistant at East Missouri Action Agency (EMAA) Mid St. Francois County Head Start in Park Hills, Missouri. In June 2022, Grand…

[life-imitates-art-far-more]

John Martin (1789-1854) "Sadak in Search of the Waters of Oblivion" (1812) Oil on canvas Romanticism Located in the Saint Louis Art Museum, St Louis, Missouri, United states The painting depicts Sadak, a fictional character in a story in James Ridley's The Tales of the Genii; it is a faux-Oriental tale allegedly from a Persian manuscript, but actually the work of Ridley himself. In Ridley's story, the hero Sadak is sent by his Sultan, Amurath, to find the memory-destroying "waters of oblivion." The Sultan maliciously intends to use the waters on Sadak's wife Kalasrade in a seduction attempt. Sadak endures a range of trials — a tempest at sea, a plague, evil genii, a subterranean whirlpool — before he attains his goal. In the end, the Sultan himself falls victim to the water's effect. Amurath dies; Sadak becomes Sultan. Martin's picture portrays Sadak at the climax of his struggle, just before he reaches the waters of oblivion.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Breaking the Class Ceiling Chapter 1

This is set in early 1900s U.S.A., during the Edwardian era with some style changes into the upcoming Art Nouveau period. I've changed history a bit for this. Pretending that America didn't have a full Civil War and trying to create a more optimistic outcome for the purposes of the story. I've also tried to research what the rules for society/socializing were back then, and tweaked some of them.

Warnings for upcoming chapters: minor character death, some sexual harassment/assault (but nothing too graphic or traumatic), smut.

Next chapter

The year was 1904.  America was in a technological boom and desperate to prove itself as a major power.  After infighting and a near civil war there had finally been peace and treaties made just years before, and as everyone learned to live with each other and create equity within their communities, prosperity flourished.  The World Fair was to be held in St. Louis, Missouri, that year, and the entire eastern seaboard was abuzz with excitement.  As families who had been previously destitute were now doing better financially they were all making plans and investing in the finer things in life, including making the big trip to St. Louis.  

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the son of an office manager, was taking up on his father’s work under a local lawyer in Brooklyn, New York.  He’d been working as a clerk in the office since he was a teenager, balancing books and ordering supplies.  His penmanship was the best in the office out of all the other clerks and receptionists, thanks to his mother, so he was in charge of handling official letters and working with dignitaries in the area.  It got him connections with the high class, and he was able to make good friends with business men’s sons, who were born into money.  He was able to get invited to all the big parties, hitch along with the high-brow at sporting events, and court the higher class women.  

His father, George Barnes, was proud of him for rubbing shoulders with the old money men.  Bucky and George were able to make a good living, but nothing that compared to the types of things that Bucky had been able to experience.  George encouraged him regularly to find a well off young woman to marry so that his future would be set.  Bucky worked and saved to make sure he had the best clothes and accessories so he would blend in with his friends, saving for his future when he could.  No woman in high society would give him a chance otherwise.

As Bucky was partying and scouting the local women, you moved back into town.  A rich woman whose family had hit it big in the beginning of the oil industry, you were the only one left after a long bout of illness that took your family.  All you had left was your uncle Alonso, who pretended to care for you, but was hitching his wagon to yours in hopes of a monetary gift and retirement.  He acted as your chaperone and matchmaker, looking for promising young men that he felt were worth your fortune.  Unfortunately for him, you were not looking for the same criteria of men he was.  He wanted someone high class, also from a well off family, or someone who would add to your fortune.  You wanted love, friendship, companionship, with someone who wouldn’t be intimidated by your fortune and your confidence.  A rich woman with full access to her own money was few and far between in this century, and you knew it.  You didn’t need a man, you wanted one.  A good one. 

The news of your arrival spread quickly.  Your last name was plastered on many a product and business, as you invested heavily in your home state, and the idea of an American princess returning after years of traveling was an exciting change of pace for Brooklyn.

“Good morning Bucky!” Steve Rogers greeted loudly as he swung open the office door, making it bang against the window behind it.

“Jeez, Steve, don’t break the glass, will ya?” Bucky grimaced, but gave him a clap on the shoulder in greeting.  “‘Morning, punk.”

“Oh, sorry,” Steve said sheepishly, checking on the glass then turning back to the front desk.  “Hey, did you hear about the Y/L/N girl coming back to town?”

Bucky didn’t look up from his paperwork, “Yeah, I heard.”

Steve looked at him expectantly.  “And?”

Buck glanced from the papers, the pencil in his hand hovering over the stack, “And what?”

Steve snorted at his best friend.  “And what?  She’s throwing a party!  It’s gonna be the biggest party Brooklyn’s ever seen!”

“Yeah, and I’m sure you got your invite already,” Bucky looked back down at his paperwork.  Steve came from a wealthy family who had made good money after selling a number of sugar and tobacco plantations.  His father had invested well and they were able to live on without needing to work anytime soon.  Of course he’d get an automatic invite.

Steve sneakily took out an envelope, a sly look in his eye.  “Yep, and I may or may not have bribed the mailman to give me yours, too,” he waved the envelope in Bucky’s face.

Bucky gawked at him, his eyes widening as he stared at the envelope.  Sure enough, his name was written on it in pretty script.  He ripped it from Steve’s hand and hastily opened it.  The paper was high quality, the writing done with a neat hand.  His eyes flew over the page as he tried to comprehend the words.

“I got an invite?” he wondered quietly.  

“Yep, that’s all you, bud,” Steve beamed at him.  “And before you ask, no, I didn’t pull any strings or make any calls.  She invited you specifically.”

Bucky was having a hard time understanding.  He never got personally invited to things, he was always the tagalong, the guy who had to be let in by his friends who put a good word in for him and opened those doors for him.  

“But…why?” he thought out loud, looking off through the window at the people passing by.

“Beats me,” Steve said nonchalantly.  “But it’s gonna be the bee’s knees.  That mansion we’ve always wondered about downtown?  That’s hers!  The whole place is being cleaned up and prepared for a big night.  You’ll need new clothes,” he finished quickly, straightening up and dusting off his suit jacket.

Bucky sighed at that.  “I don’t have enough savings for a whole new outfit, Steve.”

Steve waved him off, “Please don’t insult me.  When you’re done today stop by Barton’s and he’ll get you fixed up on my tab.  And I’ve given him strict instructions to not let you barter him down to cheap materials, so don’t you dare try it, Barnes.  You will go to that party in glad rags just like everyone else.”

Bucky wondered what he’d done right in a past life to get a friend like Steve.  “Thanks Stevie, you don’t have to do that.”

“Bullshit I don’t,” Steve countered.

“Language!” a yell came from the back.

“Sorry Mr. Fury!” Steve yelled back, looking sheepish again.  

“Alright, I’ll go,” Bucky quickly agreed, knowing he’d have no other way of looking appropriate for such a fancy function.  He knew of you, hell anyone would have to be living under a rock to not know who you were in America and many parts of Europe.  He wondered how you’d heard of him and what made you want to invite him at all.  Things were changing in society, but inviting a clerk to a multimillionaire’s mansion was still strange.

***

The weeks seemed to fly by as the party approached.  Bucky had been fitted with a whole new suit from Clint Barton’s warehouse.  Steve bought him a new straw hat for it being the first spring party with a crimson red ribbon, a matching crimson lounge coat and pants, white dress shirt, an off-white and navy plaid waistcoat, cobalt blue bow tie and cognac-colored Oxford boots that were shined to perfection.  To up the ante Steve threw in gold chain cufflinks and a matching plaid pocket square.  Bucky always brought his own pocket watch given to him by his father.  It wasn’t in the best condition, so it could give away his status, but it was the one piece he wouldn’t compromise on.

Bucky had seen the hustle in town get worse as the party got closer.  The women were desperately trying to find new fabrics and accessories to make them stand out and be in-fashion to catch your attention.  The barbershops and salons were busier than usual as people got themselves cleaned and spruced up.  There was one particular day where the sounds on the street had become quite intense as a crowd followed someone.  He looked out the window and could only make out the top of the hat on your head as people not-so-discreetly-whispered your name repeatedly, some being brave enough to approach you on the street and introduce themselves to try and gain favor.  He wondered what you looked like, what you’d be like, what things you’d seen on your travels.  He didn’t want to get his hopes up.  He was getting older than most of the upper class men around him, and hadn’t been able to peg down an upper class woman, let alone any woman yet, but you had invited him to what would be the biggest party of the season, so he hoped you were a little more open to people from all walks of life rather than just the upper crust.

Party day began with a buzzing excitement over the city.  Bucky could feel it himself as he finished work that day and ran home to wash up and get ready.  Steve was going to pick him up in his car so that they could come in style, and Steve was desperate to show off his new 1903 Pierce-Arrow.  Bucky knew he wouldn’t be able to fool you into thinking he may be in a higher social standing than he was, but he would at least show you he could play the part.  

The mansion was nestled in between other downtown homes that paled in comparison to its opulence.  The gilded aged home was covered in turrets and filigree detail around the edges and doors.  Fresh flowers were adorning every window facing the street and the front entrance that people were filing into by the time Bucky and Steve pulled up.  Pastel floral colors and shining buttons with pristine white satin gloves shone in the sunset as they entered the front hall.  Traffic jams were happening every ten steps as the partygoers got lost in the decor of the mansion, craning their necks as they looked up at the paintings on the walls and the murals on the ceilings.  Bucky found himself getting caught up in the majesty of the mansion as well.  He and Steve had peered into the windows through the years as it sat empty, wondering what it looked like inside.  Nothing in his wildest dreams could have prepared him for what it was.

The ushers herded the people along the hallways towards the middle of the house, which opened up into a grand ballroom.  Seating was scattered along the walls with waiters holding platters of decadent-looking food and sparkling champagne flutes.  A small orchestra was playing in an upper balcony above the party, with another balcony across the way holding a band that waited for their turn to play.  The fresh flowers continued inside along the walls and pillars providing a sweet smell to waft through the room.  As everyone was finally admitted and waited in the ballroom the orchestra became louder to gain the attention of the audience.

Everyone fell silent as the orchestra finished and all turned their eyes towards the doors at the other end of the ballroom from where they’d entered.  After a brief pause the doors opened and presented the host of the party.  Good god, Bucky thought.  You were dressed in a cadmium blue evening gown that had elaborate ruffles and appliques that shimmered under the lights.  The neckline was wide, the off-the-shoulder sleeves hanging on your upper arms showing off your upper body, and the front dipping lower down your chest than what was considered normal or appropriate in American fashion, displaying a tantalizing view of your cleavage.  Whereas all the other women had their hair curled and pinned up on top of their heads, your hair was in intricate braids and wispy curls with pieces deliberately falling out, the rest pinned up with sapphires.  Instead of traditional white pressed gloves your hands were adorned with lace gloves that matched the color of your dress.  You also weren’t wearing an overly restricting corset.  Everything about your outfit made you stand out.  Bucky could hear a few light gasps and whispers in the crowd at your dress choice, and it made him smile.  As you confidently walked into the ballroom, smiling kindly at everyone, he noticed a mark on your upper left arm.  Was that…a tattoo?  Unheard of.  You were a walking contradiction, and he felt like he was going to like you already.  Just a step behind you was an older man that was dressed more in the British fashion, looking out at the crowd and scanning carefully.

“Well, this should be interesting,” Steve murmured next to him, raising his eyebrows and taking a sip of the champagne in his hand.

“Mmhm, this should be fun,” Bucky agreed, his smile widening.

A butler walked forward from the side where you entered and cleared his throat, “Presenting, Lady Y/N Y/L/N, and her uncle, Mr. Alonso Y/L/N!”

The band now took a turn as you let people come up to you first, greeting them politely and giving customary head bows and occasional handshakes.  As you glided through the people Bucky pulled Steve along to a point where you’d be walking by soon.  “Come on, Steve, you gotta introduce me,” Bucky urged him.

“Buck, you introduce yourself, you got a personal invitation.  You don’t need me,” Steve protested, trying to finish his drink.  

As they settled in their spot, slowly pushing forward to greet you soon, you finished talking to a man who evidently thought highly of himself, a Mr. Rumlowe, who eyed you like something to eat.  Bucky knew him and his reputation.  Seeing the tightness of your eyes as you dismissed yourself from him, he hoped you could already see past his facade.  Your eyes fell on him and Steve and you smiled politely as you walked up to them.

“Miss Y/L/N, my name is Steve Rogers,” Steve spoke up first, giving you a head bow.

“Ah yes, Steve, your father was a good friend of my late father,” you said, your eyes shining at the recognition of his name.  Your uncle behind you shifted as he recognized the name as well, his mood lightening.  “He always spoke highly of your family.  I am planning to call on your parents at a later date, I hope you’ll join them when I do.”

Steve seemed delighted at the prospect of the meeting, “Yes of course.  My father has spoken of nothing else since your arrival.  You may get his card before he gets yours.”

You laughed lightly at him, introduced your uncle to him, who was very interested in Steve, then turned your attention to Bucky.  Your bright Y/C/E eyes gave him a quick look up and down, as if memorizing him.  Bucky knew he looked a bit more colorful than the other men in attendance, a purposeful choice that he was now patting himself on the back for making.

“And you must be James Barnes,” you offered him in greeting.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, “Yes, Miss Y/L/N, I’m surprised you know me already.”

You raised an eyebrow conspiratorially at him, “I do, your mother was a favorite of my mother’s.  I do wish I had had a chance to meet her.  My mother always spoke fondly of her,” you added, a look of mourning flashing across your face.  “I have a photograph of them together, and you look just like Winifred.”

Bucky’s breath hitched at the mention of his mother.  She had died suddenly a few years ago, taking his father’s cheerfulness with her.  She had been a bright light in the community, always looking out for others and educating the girls in the neighborhood.  He remembered her mentioning your family’s name before as being good people, but nothing concrete that would have made it seem like they were close friends.

“Oh, that’s very kind.  I am sorry I didn’t know they were good friends, but she always spoke highly of your family,” he added politely.

You nodded, your eyes searching his face for a moment.  You then surprised him by reaching your hands out for his.  He quickly met you halfway, reciprocating the greeting so as not to embarrass or reject you.  Your uncle scoffed and excused himself at your actions.  If his dismissal bothered you, you didn’t show it.  A quick glance at your hands and arms revealed that the tattoo peeking out from your sleeve was an elephant with an Indian print inside of its shape.  He could feel the stares on him as you held his hands, stepping closer to him to speak lowly.

“I hope you and your father will accept my deepest condolences.  Losing a mother is…” you trailed off, your eyes growing sad as you searched for the right words, “it is one of the worst things I’ve ever experienced,” you squeezed his fingers.  “I plan to call upon you and your father as well, please promise me you’ll accept?  I’d like to be your friend,” you proclaimed.

Bucky was floored.  It was extremely bold for a woman to ask for friendship outright from a man, and yet you showed no signs of embarrassment or hesitation at the situation you’d just created with him.  He lightly squeezed your fingers back, giving you a small smile.

“Yes, of course, Miss Y/L/N.  I’d love to be your friend, as long as you save me a dance,” he teased her.  He knew he was pushing his luck and protocols of manners, but he was rewarded when you gave him a hearty chuckle.

“Of course, Mr. Barnes,” you answered him, letting go of his hands and lacing yours together in front of you.  

“Oh please, Mr. Barnes is my father.  Friends call me Bucky,” he added.  Although it was incredibly informal to give you the option to call him his nickname, he could tell you were more open to a break in etiquette.

You smiled widely at that, “Hm, Bucky.  I like it.  Well my friends call me Y/N,” you offered him your first name back.

“Y/N,” he repeated, liking the way your name sounded on his tongue.  

You gave him a quick sly smile, “I like your candor Bucky.  Come find me soon for that dance.”

“I will, Y/N,” he gave you a smirk back.

As you bowed your head in farewell and moved on to the next person Bucky couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.  He turned to Steve whose wide eyes were gaping at Bucky in amazement.

“What just happened?” Steve asked once you were out of earshot.  

Bucky shrugged as he picked up a champagne flute from a nearby waiter, “I don’t know, but I like her.”

As the night drew on and you had greeted everyone at least once, the dancing began.  The orchestra and band took turns each song, playing slower European melodies and then switching to more American upbeat tempos.  You flitted across the dance floor, taking short breaks here and there to speak to the groups of women in the room, making small talk and promising audiences and outings.  Bucky was impressed with your ability to charm each person you talked to, ignoring the stares and sideways glances from disapproving eyes and enjoying yourself.  You ate freely, which was also strange, as most women didn’t snack offhandedly in upper class dance settings, and you nursed a champagne flute between each break you took from dancing.

Bucky decided it was time to take you up on that dance, moving through the crowd until he was on the outskirts of the dance floor, waiting for you to finish your current dance with Steve.  You spoke with him as you danced, your laugh ringing out periodically at something he said.  As he watched he felt a hard nudge to his side.

“You’re a real popinjay,” Brock Rumlowe muttered, bumping his shoulder into Bucky.  

Bucky rolled his eyes, not deigning to turn towards him, “And how’s that Rummy?”

“Don’t call me that,” Rumlowe grunted.  He pulled out a small box, opening it to reveal a white powder.  “Tonic?” he offered it to Bucky.

“No,” Bucky scoffed.  

“Your loss,” Rumlowe shrugged, taking a quick sniff before pocketing it so no one would see.  “You think you’re real big stuff, hm?  Getting to hold her hand and get an invite?”  He circled around Bucky’s back.  “You’re nothing,” he spat.  “Here among the high life, you’ve got nothing to offer her, or anybody for that matter.  I wonder if she knows your clothes were bought for you, by your beau Rogers.  Just go home, you mooching, freeloading, indigent bum.”

Bucky breathed deeply to calm himself.  Normally he’d just sock Rumlowe, but not here.  His father would never forgive him.

Rumlowe chuckled at his silence.  “We’ll see who she chooses.  Her uncle’s scouting for suitors.  She’s getting older, needs to marry and hand down that fortune to somebody.  Don’t want a spinster with that much money and a dead womb, such a waste.  I think he likes me,” he added.

Bucky sighed, “A woman with her fortune doesn’t need an elder to decide her future for her, Rummy,” he chided, finally giving him a glance.  “You’ll have to impress her, not the uncle.  And judging from the look on her face after meeting you earlier, I’d say you’re not winning any prizes soon.”

Before Rumlowe could say anything the dance ended, everyone clapping as they separated from their partners.  Steve saw Bucky on the side and led you over to him.  

“Ah, there you are, Bucky!” you chimed, your eyes lighting up.  “I was beginning to think you’d disappeared on me.”

“Never,” he said, placing a hand on his chest in jest.  It made you giggle.  “May I have that dance you promised me earlier?”

“Yes,” you answered, nodding resolutely. 

Bucky offered his arm to you and led you out to the floor, giving Rumlowe a triumphant smile.  Rumlowe gave him a scathing glare then stalked off.  Steve laughed and pumped a proud fist in Bucky’s direction.  As they got into position and the music started Bucky tried his best to look like he knew what he was doing.  He’d had some practice in dancing at other parties, but wasn’t the best at remembering which dances went with which songs.

As you came together and he took your right hand in his left, then wrapped his left hand around your waist, he pulled you in a little closer than he would normally.  Your eyes widened slightly but you smiled easily, letting him guide you across the floor.  

“You’ve come back from some long travels, is that right?” He started the conversation, wanting to learn more about you.

“Yes, I’ve been working my way through Europe, Africa, parts of the Ottoman Empire, and then the East Indies,” you answered.  “After my family passed, I was looking for an escape, so I quite literally ran away from my problems to tour the world.”

Bucky laughed at the forwardness in your answer.  “Well what better way to handle grief than to ignore it?”

You chuckled at his joke, enjoying the fact that he was willing to entertain you and speak plainly without such pretense.  You meant it when you said you enjoyed his candor.  You were looking for someone to not only share your life and fortune with, to create a family, but for someone you would genuinely enjoy spending time with and who would let you live your life without constant chastisement about rules and standards.

“I wouldn’t say ignore it, more like work through it while working through the countries,” you explained.

Bucky’s eyes lit up, “Oh? And what did you find while you were out there?”

Your eyes glazed over slightly as you remembered your travels.  “I found a new god in each place.  Rejection of a god.  A new way of living.  A new way of grieving.  Acceptance,” she trailed off.  

Bucky tightened his hold on you, grounding you back into reality.  You wistfully came back to the present, squeezing his arm that you were holding.  “It was beautiful,” you whispered.

He smiled at your tone.  “It sounds beautiful,” he agreed.  “I would like to see more of the world someday.”

“I hope you do.  It’s good for you,” she smirked at him.

“Is it?” he chuckled again.  He then leaned in and lowered his voice, “If you don’t mind me asking, is that where your tattoo comes from?  The east indies?”

You glanced at the tattoo and nodded.  “Yes, India, it was amazing there.  The air is filled with spices!” you whispered at him, your nose scrunching and eyes narrowing as if you were telling him a secret.  

Bucky had never met a woman like you.  All the etiquette and propriety that everyone else was adhering to you seemed to throw to the wayside.  It was hard to get to know women in society well before courting them, and even then everything was watched by chaperones or the public around you.  Finding someone with a full personality that she was unafraid to boldly show off was new.  He wasn’t sure how to handle it, but he liked it.

“I’ve read about India, my father was always picking up books about far off places.  He loves learning about tropical flora and fauna.  He used to have quite a garden before my mother passed,” Bucky continued the conversation, not wanting to lose the momentum in their interaction.

Your eyes widened considerably.  “Ooh!  I have a greenhouse!  In the back courtyard!  I was able to bring home many tropical plant species, and I’ve had a gardener taking great care of them.  I will show it to you when you and your father come to visit,” you offered excitedly.

The music died down and you both pulled away to give a proper bow.  As you straightened up Bucky quickly took your left hand, and in a quick flourish pulled your glove off your hand and kissed over the knuckle of your ring finger.  There were audible gasps around you at his brashness, whispers and gossip erupting in quiet fervor.  Pulling off a glove was scandalous, seen as a form of undress.  You gasped lightly, a look of shock briefly gracing your features, but you quickly schooled yourself and smiled widely at him.

“Thank you, Y/N, for this dance, and your offer,” Bucky held your bare hand in his for a moment longer, giving you a deep gaze before placing your glove back in your hand.  “I look forward to the greenhouse tour.  My father will be pleased.”

He bowed his head, gave you a wink, then walked away into the crowd.  You stayed still, your right hand sliding over your bare left hand, gingerly touching the knuckle where his lips had been.  A blush filled your cheeks as multiple women surrounded you, giggling, gossiping and fussing over getting your glove back on.

NEW STORY!

Here's something I thought of. I hope you guys like it. I tried to write it as a "You" fic rather than Y/N, but there are a couple of Y/N's here and there for dialogue.

[shiftythrifting]

That Jacob candy was unopened, fully sealed

Please look at the price tag of the girl painting. I couldn't stop laughing at it. Also, it was in the bathroom for some reason

The last one was just cool. I wish I had $2,000

Everything but the deer was Jesse James Antique Mall in St Joseph, Missouri. The deer was in the Rusty Chandlier right next door.

[vera-keller]

easy company registration cards part 2

part 1

included in this compilation under the cut are the registration cards of 13 more easy company veterans featured in band of brothers (2001). all are taken from publicly available draft records held in online databases and collected by me, and contain details like the registrant's serial number, physical attributes, date and place of birth, phone number, residential and mailing addresses, place of employment and nominated next of kin, as well as their handwriting sample and signature. like or reblog if you use or save.

a note about draft registration

during the second world war, the united states selective service system conducted a total of six draft registrations, the records of which are held collectively in two groupings at the national personnel records centre in st. louis, missouri. members of easy company were drafted in all but one of these registrations from october 1940 through to december 1942. the six registrations are as follows:

16 october 1940: males aged 21 to 35 "within the continental united states". winters, nixon, welsh, toye, perconte and liebgott were among those registered on this date.

1 july 1941: males "who had reached 21 since the first registration". lipton and speirs were registered on this date.

16 february 1942: between the ages of 20 and 45 "who had not previously registered". roe, bull, malarkey and luz, among others, were registered on this date.

27 april 1942: between the ages of 46 to 65 "not eligible for military service". no known easy company members were registered on this date.

30 june 1942: between the ages of 18 to 20. talbert, webster, grant, guarnere, babe, shifty, skip and christenson, among others, were registered on this date.

10-31 december 1942: "those who reached the age of 18 after 12 november 1942". penkala, who turned 18 in august 1942 three months before the cutoff, was nonetheless among those registered in this period.

if you have a family member or ancestor who served in a branch of the us armed forces during either the first or second world war, chances are that you can find their registration card on databases like ancestry.com and familysearch.org.

david webster

john martin

burton "pat" christenson

edward "babe" heffron

albert blithe

darrell "shifty" powers

floyd talbert

warren "skip" muck

alex penkala

alton more

walter "smokey" gordon

james "moe" alley

edward tipper

[lonestarflight]

The Original Crew of Gemini 9

"Portrait of the Gemini 9 prime and backup crews. Seated are the Prime crew consisting of Astronauts Elliot M. See Jr. (left), command pilot, and Charles A. Bassett II, pilot. Standing are the backup crew consisting of Astronauts Thomas P. Stafford (left), command pilot, and Eugene A. Cernan, pilot."

The original prime crew of Gemini 9 (GT-9) was to be Elliot M. See Jr., command pilot, and Charles A. Bassett II, pilot. They were a part of NASA Astronaut Group 2 "New Nine" and Group 3 "The Fourteen", respectively, and this would have been their first spaceflight. On February 28, 1966, about four months before their scheduled May 17 spaceflight, they and the backup crew flew in two T-38s from Houston, Texas to St. Louis, Missouri. They were there for two weeks of simulator training for rendezvous and docking procedures, and to inspect their Gemini spacecraft at the McDonnell Aircraft plant.

"See and Bassett flew in one Northrop T-38A Talon jet trainer, tail number NASA 901 (Air Force serial number 63-8181), with See at the controls and Bassett in the rear seat. A second T-38, NASA 907, carried Stafford and Cernan in the same configuration. Weather at Lambert Field in St. Louis was poor, with rain, snow, and fog, broken clouds at 800 ft (240 m) and a cloud ceiling of 1,500 ft (460 m), requiring an instrument approach. When the two aircraft emerged below the clouds shortly before 9 am, both pilots realized that they had missed the outer marker and overshot the runway.

See then elected to perform a visual circling approach, a simplified landing procedure allowing flight under instrument rules, as long as the pilot can keep the airfield and any preceding aircraft in sight. The reported weather conditions at the airport were adequate for this type of approach, but visibility was irregular and deteriorating rapidly. Stafford began to follow See's plane, but when he lost sight of it in the clouds.

Astronaut Elliot M. See Jr. inside Gemini Static Article 5 spacecraft prior to water egress training in the Gulf of Mexico.

"As See and Bassett’s jet vanished from sight, Stafford barked to Cernan in his backseat: 'Goddammit, where’s he going?' It was the last they ever saw of their comrades."

"Stafford instead followed the standard procedure for a missed approach and pulled his aircraft up, back into the clouds for another attempt at an instrument landing.

See completed a full circle to the left at an altitude of 500 to 600 ft (150 to 180 m), and announced his intention to land on the southwest runway (24). With landing gear down and full flaps, the plane dropped quickly but too far left of the runway. See turned on his afterburner to increase power while pulling up and turning hard right. Seconds later, at 8:58 a.m. CST, the plane struck the roof of McDonnell Building 101 on the northeast side of the airport. It lost its right wing and landing gear on impact, then cartwheeled and crashed in a parking lot beyond the building which was in use as a construction staging area."

"The wreckage of their T-38 training jet, covered with firefighting foam. The jet clipped the roof of Building 101 with its right wing, then skipped twice along the roof before plunging into a construction yard nearby and exploding."

Both astronauts died instantly from trauma sustained in the crash. Inside Building 101, 17 McDonnell employees and contractors received mostly minor injuries from falling debris. The crash set off several small fires inside the building, and caused minor flooding from broken pipes and sprinklers. Stafford and Cernan didn't see the crash and made an instrument landing 14 minutes later. They were asked by the control tower, “Who was in NASA 901?” Stafford replied back “See and Bassett." They were told that McDonnell Aircraft Corp. had a message for them. "A few minutes later, as Stafford opened his canopy, there was James McDonnell ('Mr. Mac' himself, aviation pioneer and founder of McDonnell Aircraft Corp.) waiting for them. In solemn tones, he explained that See and Bassett were dead."

"A truck slowly pulls the Gemini IX capsule past flags at half staff at a McDonnell parking lot on March 2, 1966, in memory of the two astronauts who were to have flown it into space."

See, 38, had been a civilian test pilot and the married father of two girls. Bassett, 34, an Air Force pilot, left a wife, a daughter and a son.

"Alan Shepard and Deke Slayton flew to St. Louis to lead an investigation. Their closed investigative hearing was held in Building 101. On May 27, their report cited deteriorating weather conditions and a descent that was too steep for See to pull out."

The backup crew, Thomas P. Stafford (left), command pilot, and Eugene A. Cernan, pilot.

"The promotion of Stafford and Cernan from backup to prime crew meant that a new backup crew was required. Jim Lovell and Buzz Aldrin were originally the backup crew for Gemini 10. This is significant as the standard crew rotation meant that a spot on the backup crew of Gemini 10 would have placed Buzz Aldrin on the prime crew of the non-existent mission after Gemini 12 (the crew rotation usually meant that after serving on a backup crew, an astronaut could expect to skip two missions and then be on a prime crew). Being moved up to the backup crew of Gemini 9 meant that Aldrin flew as part of the prime crew on Gemini 12, which played a major part in his selection for the Apollo 8 backup and Apollo 11 prime crews, ultimately making him the second human on the Moon."

-Information from Wikipedia: link, link

NASA ID: S66-15620, S66-28075, S66-15622, S66-15621, S65-28456

source, source

[ausetkmt]

Knights of Liberty - Wikipedia

Pictured here is Moses Dickson, from the frontispiece illustration of the 1879 book A Manual of the Knights of Tabor and Daughters of the Tabernacle. In 1872, the Rev. Moses Dickson founded the International Order of Twelve of Knights and Daughters of Tabor, an African-American fraternal order focused on benevolence and financial programs. Dickson was born a free man in Cincinnati in 1824, was a Union soldier during the Civil War, and afterwards became a prominent clergyman in the African Methodist Episcopal Church. Dickson showed an interest in progressive fraternal organizations early on – in 1846 Dickson, with others, founded a society known as the Knights of Liberty, whose objective was to overthrow slavery; the group did not get beyond the organizing stages. Dickson was also involved in Freemasonry – he was the second Grand Master of the Prince Hall Grand Lodge of Missouri.

Dickson’s International Order of Twelve of Knights and Daughters of Tabor – or Order of Twelve, as it’s more commonly know – accepted men and women on equal terms. Men and women met together in higher level groups and in the governance of the organization, although at the local level they met separately – the men in “temples” and the women in “tabernacles” (akin to “lodges” in Freemasonry). The Order of Twelve was most prominent in the South and the lower Midwest. The major benefits to members – similar to many fraternal orders of the time – was a burial policy and weekly cash payments for the sick.

What many people today remember about the Order of Twelve is an institution founded in Mound Bayou, Misssissippi in 1942 – the Taborian Hospital. Michael Premo, a Story Corps facilitator, posted his appreciation for the impact that the Taborian Hospital had on the lives of African-Americans living in the Mississippi Delta from the 1940s-1960s. The Taborian Hospital was on the Mississippi Heritage Trust’s 10 Most Endangered List of 2000, and an update to that list indicates that the hospital still stands vacant and seeks funding for renovation. Here are some photos of the Taborian Hospital today.

Want to learn more about the Order of Twelve? Here are a few primary and secondary sources that we have here in our collection (with primary sources listed first):

Dickson, Moses. A Manual of the Knights of Tabor and Daughters of the Tabernacle, including the Ceremonies of the Order, Constitutions, Installations, Dedications, and Funerals, with Forms, and the Taborian Drill and Tactics. St. Louis, Mo. : G. I. Jones [printer], 1879. Call number: RARE HS 2259 .T3 D5 1879

—-. Ritual of Taborian Knighthood, including : the Uniform Rank. St. Louis, Mo. : A. R. Fleming & Co., printers, 1889. Call number: RARE HS 2230 .T3 D5 1889

Beito, David. From Mutual Aid to the Welfare State: Fraternal Societies and Social services, 1890-1967. Chapel Hill, N.C. : University of North Carolina Press, 2000. Call number: 44 .B423 2000

Skocpol, Theda, Ariane Liazos, Marshall Ganz. What a Mighty Power We Can Be : African American Fraternal Groups and the Struggle for Racial Equality. Princeton : Princeton University Press, 2006. Call number: 90 .S616 2006 (1)

(1)  From The National Heritage Museum -   http://nationalheritagemuseum.typepad.com/library_and_archives/2008/05/moses-dickson-a.html

SOME ADDITIONAL INTERESTING INFORMATION ABOUT MOSES DICKSON

Moses Dickson, prior to the Civil War was a traveling barber.  Later he became an AME minister and was known as Father Dickson.

He was one of the Founders of the Lincoln Institute, now Lincoln University in Jefferson City, Misouri.

In 1879 along with others such as James Milton Turner, John Wheeler and John Turner he helped create the Committee of Twenty Five, organized to set up temporary housing for the more than 10,000 travelers who passed through St. Louis each year.

He was President of the Refugee Relief Board in St. Louis which helped to shelter and feed 16,000 former slaves who relocated to Kansas.

Moses Dickson was the first Grand Lecturer of the Most Worhipful Prince Hall Grand Lodge of Missouri upon its foundation in 1865.  He was the second Grand Master of this Grand Lodge and the Grand Secretary in 1869.

In 1876 Companion Moses dickson was elected Deputy Grand High Priest of the Grand Chapter of Holy Royal Arch Masons of Missouri and Jurisdiction.

Moses Dickson wrote the Ritual of Heroines of Jericho penning the “Master Mason’s Daughter,” the “True Kinsman,” and “Heroines of Jericho” degrees. It was sold and distributed by the Moses Dickson Regalia and Supply Co., Kansas City, Missouri and entered into the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C. in the year 1895.

The Knights of Liberty was organized by 12 Black Men in secret in August, 1846 in St. Louis, Missouri.  They were also known as the Knights of Tabor or the International Order of Twelve. Tabor is a Biblical mountain in Israel where the Israelites won a big victory over the Canaanites.

Moses Dickson was a leader of the Underground Railroad.  He and 47,000 other Knights enlisted in the Union Army as soon as Linclon authorized Black men to sign up.

Disbanded by the Civil War many of the Knights of Liberty reformed after the War was over into a benevolent fraternal society named the International Order of the Twelve Knights and Daughters of Tabor. Moses Dickson authored “International Order of Twelve 333 of Knights and Daughters of Tabor,” a book outlining the Constitution, Rules and Regulations of the Temples of the Uniform Rank of Tabor and Taborian Division.

Moses Dickson died on November 28, 1901. A truly remarkable man!

Originally published at the National Heritage Museum’s blog. The National Heritage Museum is an American history museum founded and supported by 32° Scottish Rite Freemasons in the Northern Masonic Jurisdiction of the United States of America.

[camisoledadparis]

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … November 21

Transgender Day Of Remembrance (since 1999) set aside to memorialize those who were killed due to anti-transgender hatred or prejudice (transphobia). The event is held on November 20, founded by Gwendolyn Ann Smith, to honor Rita Hester, whose murder in 1998 kicked off the "Remembering Our Dead" web project and a San Francisco, California candlelight vigil in 1999. Since then, the event has grown to encompass memorials in hundreds of cities around the world.

1873 – Daniel Gregory Mason, American composer, born (d.1953); Mason came from a long line of notable American musicians, including his father Henry Mason. He studied under John Knowles Paine at Harvard University from 1891 to 1895, continuing his studies with George Chadwick and Goetschius. In 1894 he published his Opus 1, a set of keyboard waltzes, but soon after began writing on music for his primary career. He became a lecturer at Columbia University in 1905, where he would remain until his retirement in 1942, successively being awarded the positions of assistant professor (1910), MacDowell professor (1929) and head of the music department (1929-1940). He was the lover of composer-pianist John Powell.

1883 – Edwin August (d.1964) was an American actor, director and screenwriter of the silent era. He appeared in 152 films between 1909 and 1947. He also directed 52 films between 1912 and 1919. He co-founded Eaco Films in 1914.

Edwin was born Edwin August Phillip von der Butz in St. Louis, Missouri, to August and Sarah Butz. He was educated at the Christian Brothers College.

He began working with Biograph Studios in New York as early as 1908 and moved to Hollywood with that company in 1910. He starred in several films by D. W. Griffith, who was also with the company, and continued to work well into the 1930s as a writer and director.

In 1916, he entered his name as a candidate for President of the United States, and spoke out against censorship in cinema. The candidate wasn't taken very seriously, and perhaps that wasn't the point. He didn't like the road that his industry was going down, and wanted to voice his opinion in the hope of change.

A co-star, Blanche Sweet, would later bluntly state: "He was a homo." He owned a chicken ranch at 648 South Figueroa in Hollywood and was friends with gay silent film star J. Warren Kerrigan and most likely Kerrigan's long time partner James Vincent.

Edwin passed away from cerebral metastatic disease on March 4, 1964 at the Motion Picture County Hospital in Woodland Hills, Los Angeles County, California.

1916 – James Pope-Hennessy (d.1974) was a British biographer and travel writer.

James Pope-Hennessy was born in London on 20 November 1916, the younger son of Ladislaus Pope-Hennessy, a soldier from County Cork, Ireland, and his wife, Una, the daughter of Arthur Birch, Lieutenant-Governor of Ceylon. He was the younger of two sons; his elder brother, John Pope-Hennessy, was an English art historian, museum director and writer of note. James came from a close-knit Catholic family and was educated at Downside School and at Balliol College, Oxford, but generally showed a lack of interest in formal education and did not enjoy his time at either Downside or Oxford.

Largely owing to his mother's influence, he decided to become a writer and left Oxford in 1937 without taking a degree. He went to work for the Catholic publishers Sheed and Ward as an editorial assistant. While working at the company's offices, in Paternoster Row in London, he worked on his first book, London Fabric (1939), for which he was awarded the Hawthornden Prize. During this period, he was involved in a circle of notable literary figures including Harold Nicolson, Raymond Mortimer and James Lees-Milne.

He left the publishers in 1938 when his mother found him a job as private secretary to Hubert Young, the Governor of Trinidad. Although his time abroad provided the material for his later West Indian Summer (1943), he disliked both the West Indies and the atmosphere of Government House. The outbreak of the Second World War gave him an excuse to return to Britain, where he enlisted as a private in an anti-aircraft battery under the command of Sir Victor Cazalet. Rising through the ranks, he was transferred to military intelligence, given a commission and spent the latter part of the war as a member of the British army staff at Washington.

Pope-Hennessy enjoyed his time in the United States and made many friends there. After the end of the war he wrote an account of his experiences in America. On his return to London in 1945 he shared a flat with the British intelligence officer Guy Burgess, who later defected to the Soviet Union. He had a brief spell as the literary editor of The Spectator between 1947 and 1949, before he decided to travel to France and write Aspects of Provence, which was published in 1952.

He would eventually establish himself as one of the leading biographers of his time; his first effort in this direction being a two-volume biography of Monckton Milnes that appeared in 1949 under the titles The Years of Promise and The Flight of Youth. This was followed by further biographies of the Earl of Crewe and of Queen Mary, for which he was created Commander of the Royal Victorian Order in 1960. He also wrote a life of his grandfather, the colonial governor John Pope Hennessy, under the title Verandah (adapted as a documentary for BBC Television under the title "Strange Excellency", 1964), followed by an account of the Atlantic slave traffickers, Sins of the Fathers (1967).

In 1970, he took out Irish citizenship and went to live at Banagher in County Offaly, and during the next few years produced authoritative biographies of both Anthony Trollope and Robert Louis Stevenson. Trollope himself had chosen James' grandfather, John Pope Hennessy, as the basis for the character Phineas Finn in his novel of the same name. Robert Louis Stevenson was published posthumously and without revision in 1974. He became a popular figure in Banagher, evidenced by the fact that he was asked to adjudicate at a local beauty pageant and the horse fair, the oldest in Ireland. On being given a large advance he returned to London in 1974 to begin work on his next subject, Noël Coward.

Despite being a successful professional writer, Pope-Hennessy was careless with money. He suffered a series of financial crises and often relied on the goodwill of friends to get him by. A homosexual, he was a heavy drinker and frequented back-street bars and shady pubs where he mixed with a rough crowd, associations that eventually contributed to his death when he was brutally murdered on 25 January 1974 in his London flat by three young men. He had been sexually acquainted with one of them.

1941 – Oliver Sipple, the man who saved President Gerald Ford's life, was born today.

Sara Jane Moore attempted to assassinate U.S. President Gerald Ford outside the St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco, just seventeen days after Lynette "Squeaky" Fromme had also tried to kill the president. Moore was forty feet away from Ford when she fired a single shot at him. The bullet missed the President because bystander Oliver Sipple grabbed Moore's arm and then pulled her to the ground, using his hand to keep the gun from firing a second time. Sipple said at the time: "I saw [her gun] pointed out there and I grabbed for it. I lunged and grabbed the woman's arm and the gun went off." The single shot which Moore did manage to fire from her .38-caliber revolver ricocheted off the entrance to the hotel and slightly injured a bystander.

Sipple goes for the gun.

Sipple, a decorated Marine and Vietnam War veteran, was immediately commended by the police and the Secret Service for his action at the scene. The news media portrayed Sipple as a hero but would eventually report on his outing by Harvey Milk and other San-Francisco gay activists. Though he was known to be Gay by various fellow members of the gay community, Sipple had not made this public, and his sexual orientation was a secret from his family. He asked the press to keep his sexuality off the record, making it clear that neither his mother nor his employer had knowledge of his orientation; however, his request was not complied with.

The national spotlight was on him immediately, and Milk responded. While discussing whether the truth about Sipple's sexuality should be disclosed, Milk told a friend: "It's too good an opportunity. For once we can show that Gays do heroic things, not just all that ca-ca about molesting children and hanging out in bathrooms." Milk contacted the newspaper.

Several days later Herb Caen, a columnist at The San Francisco Chronicle, exposed Sipple as a Gay man and a friend of Milk. Sipple was besieged by reporters, as was his family. His mother, a staunch Baptist in Detroit, refused to speak to him. Although he had been involved with the Gay community for years, even participating in Gay Pride events, Sipple sued the Chronicle for invasion of privacy. President Ford sent Sipple a note of thanks for saving his life. Milk said that Sipple's sexual orientation was the reason he received only a note, rather than an invitation to the White House.

Sipple filed a $15 million invasion of privacy suit against Caen, seven named newspapers, and a number of unnamed publishers, for publishing the disclosures. The Superior Court in San Francisco dismissed the suit, and Sipple continued his legal battle until May 1984, when a state court of appeals held that Sipple had indeed become news, and that his sexual orientation was part of the story.

According to a 2006 article in The Washington Post, Sipple went through a period of estrangement with his parents, but the family later reconciled with his sexual orientation. Sipple's brother, George, told the newspaper, "(Our parents) accepted it. That was all. They didn't like it, but they still accepted. He was welcomed. Only thing was: Don't bring a lot of your friends."

Sipple's mental and physical health sharply declined over the years. He drank heavily, gained weight to 300 lb (140 kg), was fitted with a pacemaker, became paranoid and suicidal. On February 2, 1989, he was found dead in his bed, at the age of forty-seven. Earlier that day, Sipple had visited a friend and said he had been turned away by the Veterans Administration hospital where he went concerning his difficulty in breathing. His $334 per month apartment near San Francisco's Tenderloin District was found with many newspaper clippings of his actions on the fateful September afternoon in 1975. His most prized possession was the framed letter from the White House.

Sipple held no ill will toward Milk, and remained in contact with him. The incident brought him so much attention that, later in life, while drinking, he would regret grabbing Moore's gun. Sipple, who was wounded in the head in Vietnam, was also diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic according to the coroner's report.

Sipple's funeral was attended by 30 people, and he was buried in Golden Gate National Cemetery in San Bruno, California. A letter addressed to the friends of Oliver Sipple was on display for a short period after his death at one of his favorite hangouts, the New Belle Saloon:

"Mrs. Ford and I express our deepest sympathy in this time of sorrow involving your friend's passing..." President Gerald Ford, February, 1989

In a 2001 interview with columnist Deb Price, Ford disputed the claim that Sipple was treated differently because of his sexual orientation, saying: "As far as I was concerned, I had done the right thing and the matter was ended. I didn't learn until sometime later — I can't remember when — he was Gay. I don't know where anyone got the crazy idea I was prejudiced and wanted to exclude Gays."

1990 – A London judge convicted 14 gay men of committing criminal assaults upon themselves because of their participation in S&M. All 14 receive prison sentences.

1998 – John Geddes Lawrence and Tyrone Garner of Texas were ordered to pay fines of $125 each after being arrested for having sex in their home. The couple refused to pay and announced they would challenge the Texas sodomy law - initiating what became known as the historic "Lawrence vs Texas" Supreme Court decision which decriminalized homosexual sex.

[todaysdocument]

Journal Entry of the Special Commission Convened at St. Louis, Missouri, Regarding the Improper Arrest of John Bush

Record Group 109: War Department Collection of Confederate RecordsSeries: Papers Relating to CitizensFile Unit: Bush, John.

Special Commission Convened at St Louis Dec 11th 1863, Under Special Order of War Department Number 494, dated Nov 6th 1863 An entry is made upon the journal of the Commission of which the following is a copy. John Rush __ there are no papers before us showing any charges against this prisoner. We have his sworn statement under oath, and the testimony of James Greir and George Montel. From which it appears that Rush is 20 years old: lives in Miss. Co. Mo: is a farmer: has a mother living; has but little education; is now and has always been loyal to the U.S. His mother is a loyal woman; that he was arrested on the 28th of Nov 1863, at the house of Mr. Broadacker, who is a loyal citizen of said Co. and whose son is married to prisoners cousin; that he went to Broadackers on a visit to his Cousin; that he had no arms; was never in any army; never was a Bushwacker, nor engaged in any illegal service against the U.S. government. He does not know what he was arrested for. We think that there has been probably some mistake in the arrest of this prisoner. We can find no evidence or deriliction (sic) against him. We therefore recommend his discharge upon his taking the oath of allegiance in the usual form.

Special Commission Cowan B. S. (illegible) Recommended the release of prisoner John Bush whom has taken the oath of allegiance. Released January 16, 1864 on oath. (Illegible)

[myhauntedsalem]

Where Jesse James Was Killed

St. Joseph, Missouri

Jesse James lived in lots of houses over his 34 years, as he spent lots of time running from the law. Most of those houses are forgotten and yet his last home, known simply as the Jesse James Home, has become a bona fide tourist attraction. Not because people want to see the house. People want to see the bullet hole.

The bullet hole was made at roughly the same moment that Jesse James was shot in the back of the head by one of his supposed friends, Bob Ford. This happened on April 3, 1882. The bullet that made the hole also took a shortcut through Jesse’s head, which makes it a celebrity death hole and a thing is worth visiting. For over 50 years tourists were even allowed to touch the hole. That was a bad idea, as the hole is now a fist-sized blob, enlarged by generations of groping fingers.

The hole is high off of the floor and is protected from further picking by a rectangle of glass that’s been screwed into the wall. Over it hangs a framed needlepoint, God Bless Our Home, which Jesse was either straightening or feather-dusting when he was shot. This troubles some fans of the Wild West. The manager of the house, Gary Chilcote, is diplomatic during the tour but made his feelings clear to us off-camera. Jesse may have been straightening but he was definitely not dusting. A painting of the Murder Moment hangs next to the hole, with no feather duster in it.

In 1995, fans of the bullet hole received shocking news. Jesse James was dug out of his grave to prove that he really did die in 1882 and not in 1951, as others have claimed. DNA extracted from a tooth found in the grave proved with 99.7 percent certainty that it was Jesse. But the grave also yielded an unexpected discovery. Jesse’s skull had no exit wound for the bullet! So what made the bullet hole? The theory now is that it was made by a bullet fired by Charley Ford, Bob’s brother, who was also in the house on that fatal day and evidently was also blasting away at Jesse’s head.

[themetaphorgirl]

I don’t know if you watch hockey (considering you’re in Florida, I am gonna assume no?) but this one hockey player died a few days ago (Johnny Hockey) bc of a drunk driver and I really liked him! Would you ever do a PSOLC hockey fanfic? Like, them going to a game? Since I think this fic is based is Missouri, they would see the St. Louis Blues

I have been to one hockey game!! I’m from Tennessee and saw a Predators game, and that’s actually where PSLOC is set, so if they went they would go see the Preds!

but full disclosure. I am TERRIBLE about writing anything sports related (Derek and JJ’s sections? SO HARD TO WRITE) so I can try but I make no guarantees of it turning out well ahahahaha.

But now that it’s brought up, I think Ned and Jeff are huge hockey fans and go to multiple Predators games every season. James goes along sometimes even though he’s not a huge hockey fan.

[lboogie1906]

Judge James Benton Parsons (August 13, 1911 – June 19, 1993) was a District Judge of the District Court for the Northern District of Illinois.

Born in Kansas City, Missouri, his family moved to St. Louis, where his father was an evangelist and missionary with the Disciples of Christ Church. The family lived in Lexington, Kentucky, Dayton, Ohio, and Bloomington, Indiana, before settling in Decatur, Illinois.

He earned a BA degree from Millikin University.

He first started working as acting head of music at Lincoln University. He was the director of instrumental music for Greensboro’s Negro public schools. The band at James B. Dudley High School became known throughout the state for its expert musicianship and precision marching.

During WWII, he enlisted in the Naval Reserve. Serving as a Musician MUS1, he directed the Navy B-1 Fleet Band. The band was organized from a core of members of the bands at Dudley High School and NCATSU.

He used the GI Bill to earn his MA from the University of Chicago, followed by a JD from the University of Chicago Law School. He entered private practice in Chicago, serving as an assistant corporation counsel. He was appointed as an Assistant US Attorney of the Northern District of IL. He was a judge of the Superior Court of Cook County.

He was nominated for a seat on the District Court for the Northern District of IL. He became the first African American to serve as a life-tenured federal judge under Article III. He served as Chief Judge and served as a member of the Judicial Conference of the US. He assumed senior status on August 30, 1981. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #kappaalphapsi

[antisatiric]

GUILTY MINDS GIVE EASIER.

a verse post for mark twain's moriarty the patriot verse !

BASIC INFORMATION ;

name: "mark twain". he was born samuel clemens, but changed his name after fleeing across the atlantic.

age: 26 (post-timeskip).

species: human.

occupation: on-call MI6 agent.

residence: london, england.

birthplace: st. petersburg, missouri.

special abilities: none. low supernatural setting.

other: twain owns only one cat (called whipped cream), but he keeps a good relationship with all of the cats in his neighborhood.

TIMELINE ;

as a teenager, twain was forced to flee from america after having become the target of a religious cult started by his late father. stowing away on a ship to england, twain found himself in an unfamiliar country with no prospects and no way to earn a living, and quickly turned to petty crime as a means of survival.

after he attempted to pickpocket mycroft holmes, the man took him in out of some mixture of pity and interest. he spent the remainder of his teenage years and early adulthood living with mycroft, who also helped him to secure work of his own.

though mycroft was initially reluctant to allow twain into MI6, he offered twain a position on the team when louis james moriarty succeeded his brother's position of "M". this was twain's first intersection with the moriarty family---and it most certainly wouldn't end up being his last.

[shiftythrifting]

Some shifty finds at Jesse James Antique Mall in St Joseph, Missouri

Though the Sherlock Holmes smoking a pipe as a pipe was pretty rad

[chantssecrets]

Born July 22, 1939, in St. Louis, Missouri, Quincy Troupe is an awarding-winning author of 12 volumes of poetry, three children’s books, and six non-fiction works. In 2010 Troupe received the American Book Award for Lifetime Literary Achievement.

When, in the fall of 1987, he travelled to the south of France to interview a critically ill James Baldwin, they knew it was his last chance to speak at length about his life and work. The result is one of the most eloquent and revelatory interviews of Baldwin's career, ranging widely over his youth in Harlem, his friendship with Miles Davis and Toni Morrison and his thoughts on race.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Smithsonian:

Every summer, millions of Americans flock to the United States’ 63 national parks. Federally protected wilderness areas offer people the chance to explore a wide variety of terrain, from the vibrant canyons of the Southwest to the imposing mountains of the West Coast. Today, these public lands often represent an escape for Americans, 81 percent of whom live in cities. Some may agree with the naturalist John Muir, who believed that “wildness is a necessity” and national parks are “fountains of life.”

When Americans walk through dense forests or descend into gloomy caverns, they might recall explorers of the past who trekked across the country decades before Congress established Yellowstone as the U.S.’s first national park in 1872. Names like Daniel Boone, Davy Crockett and Kit Carson loom large in the popular imagination. But their stories are not the only ones.

For too long, the public and scholars alike have overlooked American adventurers from diverse backgrounds whose discoveries shaped the nation’s history. The time has come to fully recover their stories and acknowledge their important contributions. Doing so will not only correct the historical record but also support contemporary efforts to welcome people of color in national parks. According to National Park Service (NPS) data, 77 percent of park visitors are white, while just 23 percent are racial minorities. (People of color make up around 44 percent of the U.S.’s population.)

From the earliest days of European settlement, when an estimated 5 million to 15 million Indigenous people populated the lands that would one day form the U.S., people of color have been at the forefront of exploration. In 1527, an enslaved African man named Esteban reached North America as part of a Spanish expedition led by the conquistador Pánfilo de Narváez. After stopping on the islands of Hispaniola and Cuba, Narváez and his men landed in present-day Florida to search for gold. They soon became enfeebled by disease, and many perished. Native Americans drove those who survived, including Esteban, to the coast, where they set sail for the Gulf of Mexico.

On May 21, 1804, 45 men led by Meriwether Lewis and William Clark departed from St. Charles, Missouri, on a two-year journey across North America. Hoping to find a water route to the Pacific Ocean, the Corps of Discovery also sought to gather information about the geography, climate, wildlife and Indigenous peoples of the continent. The group’s mission was funded by Congress and supported by President Thomas Jefferson, who had just facilitated the acquisition of Louisiana Territory in 1803.

York, an African American man enslaved by Clark, played an integral role as the only Black member of the corps. An experienced frontiersman, York knew how to forage for edible plants and hunt wild game. Although most enslaved African Americans were forbidden to possess guns at the time, York wielded a firearm throughout his journey. He killed bison and geese, providing sustenance for the entire group.

York also provided medical aid to those suffering from illness. Stricken with what was likely a gastrointestinal infection, Sergeant Charles Floyd became incapacitated just months into the journey. It was York, principally, who tried to revive him, Clark wrote in his journal. When Sacagawea, the Shoshone woman who played a critical role as an interpreter and navigator for the corps, fell ill at Fort Mandan, York gave her stewed fruit and tea at regular intervals.