Tuesday

history / links / Samford / Tuesday / Twitter — Comments Off on The little things
28
Apr 15

The little things

You wonder what things people take from their young adult years, what stories they carry into their hopefully long and prosperous lives. Someone will tell a few of these stories for a good long while, for sure. These celebrations are in the cafeteria:

Pretty cool, huh? One of the tennis players has been in two of my classes. One of the track athletes has been in my class and he’ll be getting his second conference championship ring. One of his teammates is our sports editor this spring and he’s getting his first ring, as a freshman. All of that is nice, but I just thought it was a nice touch how the folks in the athletic department took steps to point out their team’s success.

Paper tonight, and a run today and a lot of time in the office working on class things. Sometimes it feels as if the grading will never stop.

You might have heard of the weekend storm in the Gulf. One sailor died in the squall, and the search is on for others still missing. Sad story:

“I’ve now sailed thousands and thousands of miles and I’ve never seen a situation come up so fast,” he said.

And yet it was on land that Creekmore got the most terrible news.

“He’s a wonderful, very brilliant, very bright young man,” Creekmore said of Beall, who owned Kris Beall Construction in Alexandria, La., and was from nearby Pineville.

Creekmore described Beall as “very passionate about sailing.”

I was downtown tonight, for pizza, and so this was a good night to also see this story, which has probably never happened here before:

As cities around the country look for ways to go green, a recent report shows Birmingham to be leading the way in terms of air quality.

Ozone and fine particulate concentrations in the Birmingham area are at their lowest-ever recorded levels, according to the Jefferson County Department of Public Health.

You don’t have to go terribly far back in time to see the city in an entirely different, cloudy light.

The air has been getting progressively better over the years. You can even see the skyline for miles. I remember days as a kid when you couldn’t say that.

This gentleman is believed to be the last surviving member of Merrill’s Marauders in Alabama:

“My biggest concern and the gravest concern of all of us was — we were surrounded there — can they keep us with enough ammunition?” the 94-year-old Kinney, who grew up in Cullman County and now lives in Calera, said about the battle.

“We had been sitting there for 13 days and the Japanese had us surrounded. We had no food and no water for five days,” he said.

Kinney, who had suffered two hits from shrapnel and a bullet across his helmet during the fighting, recalled the Nhpum Ga battle came to a halt on Easter Sunday morning in 1944 with a victory over Japanese soldiers. It was the latest of several hard-fought battles for the Marauders, named after their commander, Gen. Frank D. Merrill, but it wasn’t their last.

“When we were disbanded, there was less than 200 that were still fighting,” said Kinney.

Nothing little about that.

I tell students that obituaries aren’t about the way people died, but about how they lived. And, occasionally, that makes for a story worth telling grandly. Here’s the story of a woman who was abandoned at a train depot as a baby, who then lived for a century:

Ione’s 65-year-old daughter, Margaret Pacifici, a nurse, said, “She wanted perfection.”

Son Joe, 68, an organic chemist, said, “If you had done your best and it was not good enough, mother would tell you to do better.”

Joseph, her husband, died in 1984. After that, Ione traveled. She read. She drove a Buick until she was 92.

She drove a Buick. Whoever writes mine, a long, long time from now, I hope they remember to get in a lot of small details like that. In any kind of stories, I think, those small details are the one that make the imagery sing.

The little details make the big picture.

history / photo / Samford / Tuesday / video — Comments Off on A quick run through the hodge podge
21
Apr 15

A quick run through the hodge podge

They built a time machine in Manhattan. And it is fantastic. Just fantastic.

We should see to it that every elevator has this technology.

Speaking of going back in time, journalist Ernie Pyle was killed this week in 1945. He was the kind of journalist I want to be when I grow up — the traveling all over the country and meeting people and writing about them part, not the war zone part. But Pyle could write about war. He could write about loss. He could write about minutiae in the face of tragedy. And he could write about regular people. He could write about anything.

I’d never heard this story about the piece that inspired a young Pyle:

If any one thing inspired him, during this period, it was Kirke Simpson’s news story on the burial of the Unknown Soldier in Arlington Cemetery. Simpson was an Associated Press reporter.

“I cried over that,” Pyle told friends later, “and I can quote the lead or almost any part of the piece.”

Kirke Simpson, as an old AP man, won the Pulitzer for the piece Pyle was talking about, the first wire service writer to win the Prize. And that piece is an incredible piece of literature and history. The lead Pyle mentions:

Under the wide and starry skies of his own homeland America’s unknown dead from France sleeps tonight, a soldier home from the wars.

Alone, he lies in the narrow cell of stone that guards his body; but his soul has entered into the spirit that is America. Wherever liberty is held close in men’s hearts, the honor and the glory and the pledge of high endeavor poured out over this nameless one of fame will be told and sung by Americans for all time.

Toward the end:

Through the religious services that followed, and prayers, the swelling crowd sat motionless until it rose to join in the old, consoling Rock of Ages, and the last rite for the dead was at hand. Lifted by his hero-bearers from the stage, the unknown was carried in his flag-wrapped, simple coffin out to the wide sweep of the terrace. The bearers laid the sleeper down above the crypt, on which had been placed a little soil of France. The dust his blood helped redeem from alien hands will mingle with his dust as time marches by.

The simple words of the burial ritual were said by Bishop Brent; flowers from war mothers of America and England were laid in place.

In between, and after, is a journalistic tour de force. They should read that at the tomb every Veteran’s Day.

There are photographs and more AP copy from the ceremonies here.

Something fun … this is at Birmingham’s WBRC. Mickey Ferguson is the weatherman. Swell guy, lots of fun. Wonderfully comical. And this other gentleman stole the show:

And also this, which brings two of my favorite themes together: the kids are alright and we live in the future:

Finally, spring at Samford is a wonderful time to be on campus. Here’s an example from earlier this afternoon:

spring

Not bad, huh? Hope it is a lovely spring wherever you are.

I do not know what is happening. / music / photo / Samford / swimming / Tuesday / video — Comments Off on Notes from the third floor
14
Apr 15

Notes from the third floor

The work on the campus cafeteria continues. The short version is they are renovating. And part of that renovation has involved gutting the center of the large room. So they had to erect an interior room, keeping the dust in and the food out. They built a dirty room, basically. They put in plexiglass windows so you can peer in and check out their work. I’m not sure if I’ve seen a lot of students doing that, but it is interesting to see what is happening inside on a weekly basis or so. On the outside, murals and other sanctioned graffiti are going up. Here’s some Seuss:

Seuss

I didn’t know there was such a thing as a drywall truck, but it makes sense if you think about it. Problem is, I never have. Nevertheless, here you go:

truck

Work, work, work. But it never seems enough, or finished. Hopefully it is good, at least.

I got in a fast 2,000 yards at the pool. Fast for me, that is. I was very pleased with myself because it took much less time in the aggregate. Let’s call that progress.

Pizza for dinner, a nice story involving a police officer around midday:

“I immediately started ripping apart the sink and the pipes. If you can only imagine losing your wedding ring – you can do anything with the adrenalin going through your body.”

The next thing she knew, other restaurant patrons joined her in the restroom. At one point, at least six people were in the bathroom trying to find the ring – in addition to those who just had to answer nature’s call.

They not only drew a crowd, they caught the attention of Hendrix who works an extra job at Al’s. Someone asked the kitchen staff for a long utensil, and Hendrix got curious. “The cop was like, ‘What the heck is going on?” Shannon said.

[…]

Hendrix may have sent Shannon on her way, but he certainly didn’t give up. He, along with the restaurant manager, called someone they thought could help. It was a small miracle, Hendrix said, when the trio heard the ring jingling somewhere deep down in the pipes.

But the officer’s work had only just begun. He didn’t know Shannon’s name, or the names of her friends. That’s when the detective work started.

One last thing, the man was an Alabama-native and a legend, and I thought he might live forever (mostly because, in my mind, he’s been about 70 for 25 years). But Percy Sledge’s passing should prompt you to check out at least a few of his live performances. The man was an incredible performer:

I saw him at a festival years ago, mostly because I remember a high school teacher of mine told me about the time she saw him in a blues bar in Mobile. He was singing that signature song, she said, and he did the chorus, “When a man loves a woman” 56 times. Always wanted to see something like that.

journalism / links / things to read / Tuesday — Comments Off on Time to pack
7
Apr 15

Time to pack

It occurred to me today that I now travel enough that I don’t bother so much with the packing. Oh it has to be done, and sure, you need to make sure you bring enough socks and the right shoes, but it doesn’t require a lot of planning, or even concentration.

So it is that, on the night before a five day trip, I’ll probably get around to putting things in a bag around midnight.

Also, I’ve improved on the art of over-packing, so there’s that. Running shoes do take up a fair amount of space in a roller bag, though. And maybe I’ll actually use them. I haven’t done much of anything lately. No energy whatsoever, so there’s been no exercise. Probably because I haven’t done anything. Whatever it is, I’m sure it is a vicious cycle. Or maybe it is just a spell.

Things to read … because you can’t read without spelling.

*RImshot.*

Alabama and the Cycling Frontier:

We were in Alabama to speak at the first statewide bicycle summit, and to meet with a few communities interested in bicycle tourism. We were excited (after all, the South is the frontier for bike advocacy), but we truly had no idea what to expect from our week-long visit. Would it be a living stereotype? Would there be more to eat than fried chicken? Was it a joke to think that anyone might ride a bicycle there?

And if you follow along there’s a nice little travelog of these cycling advocate’s visits in stops around the state.

Overlooking yet another person’s need to think in stereotype, I rather like the idea of being on a frontier.

Talking to Female Cyclists 101:

Let’s face it, women that ride bikes are attractive. If you need a word for it, try using callipygian. Look it up. Not only does cycling build great muscle definition and lean characteristics, it also takes a “special” kind of person to be willing to push their limits, set goals, ride a bike for hours, and enjoy this sensation of training. I know it is tempting to ride up to that woman on the bike path and express your appreciation of her fit, form, and bike, but before you do, think before you speak. Complimenting a woman on her bike and her fitness may be one of the biggest compliments that can ever be given, but just like everything else you say to women, it is all in the way it is said and the context. Beware, she may be able to beat you up that climb, or have better power to weight ratio. If you make her mad, you may never see ride with her again.

It doesn’t take much to beat me up a hill. And I’m probably not talking to anyone while it is happening either.

‘Godmother of VR’ sees journalism as the future of virtual reality:

Like shoulder pads or frosted hair, virtual reality is often viewed as an relic of the 1980s, but not by former Newsweek reporter Nonny de la Peña.

The Los Angeles-based “Godmother of VR” is at the forefront of an endeavour to use the technology to usher in a form of immersive journalism in which viewers are placed within news stories and experience them viscerally.

Next week, De la Peña will unveil the latest in a series of graphic 3D reconstructions: the story of Trayvon Martin, the unarmed 17-year-old African American fatally shot by neighbourhood watch volunteer George Zimmerman in February 2012.

We’ve been talking about this for a few years, futurist friends of mine who let me daydream with them, and in a few more years we’re going to see how right and wrong we were. It should lead to fantastic storytelling, either way.

A business plan canvas tool made for reporters, entrepreneurs and teachers:

Van Achter recently open-sourced a prototyping canvas that was used by each of the 30 projects he has mentored at Lab Davanac. He calls it the “Lean Journalism Canvas” and it’s based off business modeling tools that outline partners, resources, value propositions, and revenue streams. For each journalism project, Van Achter has students plan out things like hypothesis, team’s legitimacy, storytelling strategy, audience makeup, how they’ll track impact, and how will they generate revenue.

This prototyping tool helps surface many of the questions a media venture or simple reporting project should consider. This tool helps journalists and media entrepreneurs young and old think beyond the elevator pitch. It also makes a great journalism school teaching tool.

It’ll take more than a few players behaving badly to slow down that juggernaut: Despite Image Issues, NFL Grew Sponsorship Revenue.

South Carolina Officer Is Charged With Murder of Walter Scott:

A white police officer in North Charleston, S.C., was charged with murder on Tuesday after a video surfaced showing him shooting in the back and killing an apparently unarmed black man while the man ran away.

The officer, Michael T. Slager, 33, said he had feared for his life because the man had taken his stun gun in a scuffle after a traffic stop on Saturday. A video, however, shows the officer firing eight times as the man, Walter L. Scott, 50, fled. The North Charleston mayor announced the state charges at a news conference Tuesday evening.

The Times has the video, but if you don’t want to watch the video, the piece will also walk you through the few chaotic seconds that end in tragedy. This story is wholly different without that bystander’s phone video, which makes a strong argument for body cameras.

That is a lot of powder: Colombian navy seizes more than 5 tons of cocaine on ship.

Hard to not find the foreboding anymore, isn’t it? Report: Russians Hacked White House:

The Russian government is responsible for a known cyberhack on the White House, according to a new report by CNN. In a segment with reporter Evan Perez, CNN said the hackers were able to access President Barack Obama’s schedule and call information.

This cyberattack on presidential privacy is related to a 2014 hack of the State Department, unnamed sources told CNN. One official said the hackers “owned” the State Department system during the hack, though the implications of this description are unknown.

I wonder if all of those old typewriters are in a warehouse somewhere. Maybe someone will want to dig those out of mothballs one day for some project or another. Hard to hack a mimeograph, too.

I do not know what is happening. / photo / running / Samford / swimming / Tuesday / Twitter — Comments Off on All of these things are worth remembering
31
Mar 15

All of these things are worth remembering

I follow exactly one comedy writer on Twitter. And tonight he linked to this essay written, he said, by a friend of his. That guy worked on the Letterman show, and he’s dishing the anecdotes. There’s a lot of fun in these stories:

Bill Clinton was hanging out near my wife, which is something no husband wants. My wife also worked at the show, and the former president was backstage watching the Top 10 List while awaiting his guest segment. I had a joke in the Top 10 that mentioned Chewbacca. The joke got a pretty big laugh backstage, but Clinton seemed confused. He turned and with a quizzical look asked, “Who’s Chewbacca?”

First off, I have to admit that having written something that prompted Bill Clinton to say the word Chewbacca stands as the proudest achievement of my life. (I’m the father of two.) My next goal is getting Pope Francis to say “Wu-Tang Clan.” But the more I thought about it, the madder I got. Yes, Bill Clinton’s a world leader with lots of important things on his mind. We get it. But when Star Wars came out in 1977, Clinton wasn’t the president. He was a regular guy. Heck, his nickname was “Bubba.” A guy named “Bubba” can’t pretend he’s too important to know who Chewbacca is. And also, isn’t Clinton always claiming to be a New York Times crossword-puzzle expert? Chewbacca is exactly the kind of random reference any decent crossword-puzzler would be aware of.

I really hoped there would be a YouTube video of Clinton and Chewie together. Get on that, Internet.

Here at home, Tom Cosby is busy finding a silver lining in the things that are going on at UAB with the athletic department. I haven’t said a whole lot about the UAB story, but I like Cosby’s point of view:

But despite these disappointing aspects, here’s the good thing, no the GREAT thing, that’s come out of all this. This brouhaha has accelerated a rekindling of Birmingham’s civic pride along with a fierce embrace of UAB. Our civic pride was already surging before this debacle but its now quadrupled since December 2 and you see it growing every day.

When has this city ever united like this behind UAB? For that matter, when have you ever seen this level of civic passion in anything? And unlike earlier generations of Birminghamians who years ago let out of state corporations call the shots here, these citizens are letting the UA Trustees know their outrage. And they are making it clear that they believe killing football has the real potential to damage both UAB and our city’s future.

Take all the victories you can.

Time for the weekly update of the work in the cafeteria. They are expanding the center of the space, which has clogged the flow around the main food-substitute procurement area and jammed up the dining area. They say they have the same amount of tables, but they are all in less space because this first phase of the renovation required the building of a dust wall. One must keep the dust out of the food.

They’ve put fiberglass windows in the dust walls, so you can check out the work. This is what I saw at lunch today:

The larger portion of the work has been up in the ceiling and, thus, out of view from this position. I look in every day and the equipment is moving around. The guys working there seem to spend more time doing stuff than standing around watching one guy do stuff. They say they’ll be done with their work by the first part of the summer. I suppose it all depends what they find as they poke around in the ceiling.

Ancient chicken wings from lunches gone by, no doubt.

I had contemporary chicken for dinner tonight, visiting the Chick-fil-A that I visit too much. Even the guys in the back know my name now.

Also swam and ran today. Got in about 2,200 yards in the pool and then two miles of running. It always feels weird to say after the fact, but I got to the end of that second mile and my body and my energy levels agreed: we’ve done enough.

It was that feeling you can’t really describe, or maybe even remember clearly later. The one beyond rubbery fatigue, but down around emptiness. The one where another step was foolish because you were no longer running along on the ground, but rather about 18 inches below it.

Now, having had dinner and sitting in a chair, the inability to run another mile or so doesn’t seem so bad. It is a kindness that the mind sometimes gives us, being able to forget about some of the painful things.

I wonder, if they find something curious in the ceiling, if it is remembered by whoever put it there years ago.

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