His portfolio of editorial cartoons in hand, Burris Jenkins Jr. arrived for a job interview at The New York American one day in 1931 and mistakenly got off the elevator at the wrong floor. He found himself in the sports department of the rival Evening Journal, where he was hired on the spot as a sports cartoonist.
Spoiler Alert: For those ostriches wishing to remain with heads in the sand -- this is another citizen complaint about AED and the Dells.
A Harvard University Center for American Political Studies/Harris Poll showed that immigration is now voters’ top concern, surpassing health care as the nation’s No. 1 issue. By a 42-38 margin, registered voters selected immigration as the major issue.
(Ext. 10 Downing Street, nighttime. The lights of London shine in the late evening. Revelers wander in and out of pubs. Big Ben stretches imperiously against a July sky. Inside No 10, a phone rings.)
Regarding recent discussion on downtown traffic safety and pedestrian crossings, I think the city should consider the pedestrian scramble intersection concept.
I can remember where I was when Elvis Presley died.
This past week, I’ve been watching a series of programs celebrating the 50th anniversary of the moon landing.
I am sick and tired of hearing about the so-called ”drought.”
The national media reports have been numerous in recent days: “The FBI and ICE can actually access and scan your driver’s license picture, and get other information about you, using technology that’s the stuff of Hollywood.”
Echo Development annexation: The city holds all the cards; it can tell Mr. Gisi we get 500 acres around the Point of Rocks or no annex.
The city of Dunedin, Florida, wants Jim Ficken’s home. Ficken’s mom died, so he went to South Carolina to take care of her estate. He asked a friend to look after his house. But then the friend died, and no one cut Ficken’s grass. When it grew to 10 inches, Dunedin officials started fining him $500 a day. The fine is now about $30,000.
The Dells hold many memories of both my childhood and my adult life. Like many Prescott natives, I spent summer days as a child enjoying picnics on the rocks and playing in the grass at Heritage Park.