Bob and Elsa Robb of Lake Forest are the proud owners of this rare 1919 Ford speedster, a car that originally began its life as a Model T but was enthusiastically transformed into something much more exciting a long time ago.
"After WW I, American soldiers returning from Europe bought worn-out, dilapidated Model T Fords," Bob Robb said about these cars. "They were cheap and plentiful. They removed the original bodies to make them lighter, modified the engines and raced them."
Robb found this model about six years ago in, of all places, a chicken coop in barn at a home in Newcastle, outside of Sacramento. At that time, the car belonged in a man's collection after he bought it from the family of the late previous owner in Ohio, where it had been part of another private collection since the early 1960s.
"I looked at it and fell in love with it," Robb recalls. Just days after returning to Orange County, Robb couldn't get the car off his mind.
"I had to have it," he said. So he dialed up the owner, made a deal, and trailered it home.
"It was in very good condition, but it wasn't runnable," Robb said. "It had not been driven since 1963."
That didn't present a problem for Robb, 75, who had been working on cars "since I was a little kid." (His first vehicle was a 1930 Ford Model A.)
"I worked on it about two months before it was road-worthy," he said.
"The engine is the original that was put in it in 1919," Robb said. "Most of last winter I overhauled it. It had never been bored. I put in new pistons, and the valves were so sloppy you could throw a cat through them."
The L-head four-cylinder now makes approximately 50 horsepower, and Robb estimates the car's top speed at 60 mph. But even at 50 mph, Robb can only describe driving this thing as "scary."
"I said, 'I'll never do that again,'" he said. "It felt like it would fly apart."
And that's not the only thing.
"God gave us two arms and two legs, and Henry Ford gave us four pedals and four levers on top," Robb says of the car's complex controls, which include a throttle lever on top along with the steering column, an ignition advance, a hand-operated clutch and the choke.
But that doesn't deter Robb from driving it every chance he gets. He's a frequent attendee at car shows and has it on the road as much as possible. The car has also been featured in parades and a TV commercial.
"Of all the cars I've had," Robb says, "This has given me the most joy."
2011年5月29日星期日
Coops du Jour
A dozen local chicken coop owners are hosting the second annual COOPS DU JOUR, the Southern Illinois Chicken Coop Tour on Sunday, June 5, 2011 from 1 to 5 p.m.
During this time coop "tourists" can look at different types of chicken coops and chicken breeds in Jackson, Union and Williamson counties. This free, self-guided tour will showcase funky, interesting and workable backyard coop models. Whether you're a chicken enthusiast, a chicken-owner-wannabe or a chicken and egg eater, this free tour is for you, said a spokesman.
The tour will kick off rain or shine, with event registration starting at 12:30 p.m. at Mulberry Hill Farm located at 5370 Springer Ridge Road, Carbondale. There will be an information table, a silent auction, event T-shirts and other on farm activities. The coop tour will conclude with a picnic social at Mulberry Hill Farm at 6 p.m., so coop "tourists" are invited to pack a meal for the evening and meet back up at the farm after the tour concludes.
Given the number of coops on the tour, it is unlikely coop tourists will be able to visit all the stops. They should plan their stops according to their needs and interests.
This year's tour is sponsored by MFA Feeds, Thomas Publishing, Leady's Feed Store and Mulberry Hill Farm.
During this time coop "tourists" can look at different types of chicken coops and chicken breeds in Jackson, Union and Williamson counties. This free, self-guided tour will showcase funky, interesting and workable backyard coop models. Whether you're a chicken enthusiast, a chicken-owner-wannabe or a chicken and egg eater, this free tour is for you, said a spokesman.
The tour will kick off rain or shine, with event registration starting at 12:30 p.m. at Mulberry Hill Farm located at 5370 Springer Ridge Road, Carbondale. There will be an information table, a silent auction, event T-shirts and other on farm activities. The coop tour will conclude with a picnic social at Mulberry Hill Farm at 6 p.m., so coop "tourists" are invited to pack a meal for the evening and meet back up at the farm after the tour concludes.
Given the number of coops on the tour, it is unlikely coop tourists will be able to visit all the stops. They should plan their stops according to their needs and interests.
This year's tour is sponsored by MFA Feeds, Thomas Publishing, Leady's Feed Store and Mulberry Hill Farm.
2011年5月25日星期三
Chicken Coop Born Humorist Gives His Take On The End Of The World Now Set For October 21, 2011
Emerging Magazine opened its new website to animators, bloggers, designers, models and other professionals and talent over one month ago. Since then, the magazine has experienced some interesting people and the site is drawing increased traffic.
The most interesting character is a self-described Antagonist/Humorist, conceived, born and raised in a chicken coop. The latter portion of the previous sentence drew the attention of Emerging Magazine staff quickly. Naturally, once a person reads his family history you know something is amiss. However, in his latest discussion, he lends current event news to his banter, giving it an unusual twist.
Emerging Magazine currently has 53 News Groups and Whatha Sam Hell, III has his own group where he will post his thoughts on the world. Fiction or Non-Fiction is the readers call. Either way, Mr. Hell is definitely interesting.
The most interesting character is a self-described Antagonist/Humorist, conceived, born and raised in a chicken coop. The latter portion of the previous sentence drew the attention of Emerging Magazine staff quickly. Naturally, once a person reads his family history you know something is amiss. However, in his latest discussion, he lends current event news to his banter, giving it an unusual twist.
Emerging Magazine currently has 53 News Groups and Whatha Sam Hell, III has his own group where he will post his thoughts on the world. Fiction or Non-Fiction is the readers call. Either way, Mr. Hell is definitely interesting.
Keep presidential frauds out of State House
Keep presidential frauds out of State House
It is no longer safe to dress like a sheep to enter the chicken coop. You could be stripped to expose the rot in the deep recesses of your conscience.
Reform pretentions did not work for judges who wanted promotion as Chief Justice and Deputy Chief Justice, with Judicial Service commissioners asking dreaded questions.
False pretences should not work for presidential frauds scheming for the Kibaki Succession. They can buy the loyalty of your MPs, but tell them you need more than mere handouts. Tell them you want your country freed from the stranglehold of the impudent.
Presidential aspirants should be similarly interrogated to expose integrity frauds masquerading as new generation saviours. Some presidential aspirants are children and beneficiaries of impunity.
Some are working for ‘impunists’ to reclaim the past. There is a coalition against change expected to come with full implementation of the new Constitution.
Panelists to interrogate presidential pretenders shall be you — the electorate — who often eat fruits of bad leadership. It is this poor leadership that causes infectious sadness. Famine, unemployment, disease, drought, inflation, ignorance, and impunity romp the countryside with the rage of a randy bull. Someone of courage must slay this beast of impunity.
You have a chance to probe reform credentials of this clutter of wannabe presidents. With the new Constitution, and especially Chapter Six placing a premium on integrity, there is a detergent to sanitise public consciousness for greater civic responsibility.
The electorate — you and I — must resolve to ban change frauds from State House. You have to respect this resolution by registering as a voter and making informed choices. A single vote for a national cause counts. It counts because popular vote for change begins with individual citizens who are conscious of their civic responsibilities. You develop a critical mass of change agents by mobilising right-thinking individuals to buy into the cause.
The 2002 election fraud is a good reminder. The con was possible because fundamental questions were not asked. Change of guard at the top did not translate into change of values. Wolves were allowed to dress in sheepskin with impunity. The same wolves are grooming wolverines for succession.
The dream of a rainbow nation working for the national good was hijacked. Many politicians changed coat during the 2002 election, pretending to be what they were not, with promises they did not intend to keep. They signed accords they trashed at the first opportunity. They thanked you on day one, but locked the doors on your expectations once they entered the citadel.
"I feel extremely happy to address you today. I am overwhelmed by your love. I am emboldened by your support and enthusiasm. I am thrilled by your sense of dedication and commitment. You have renewed my hope and strengthened my belief in the greatness of this country. Now, all of us, both young and old, men and women, Kenyans of every ethnic group, race or creed, have embarked on a journey to a promising future with unshakeable determination and faith in God and in ourselves."
Easier said than done. They may not even want you to remember the glowing gratitude to an electorate that, within weeks became victims of unexamined leadership choices.
The sacred cows
If corruption had been slain as pledged, and impunity banished as promised, justice would not be stealing sacred cows from our midst about ten years into a regime that promised a new beginning.
First justice came for the ‘Ocampo Six’ to answer changes related to 2007 post-election violence. And now it is seeking rendition of the ‘Jersey Two’ to answer to multiple corruption charges and causing power outages.
"Corruption will now cease to be a way of life in Kenya and I call upon all those members of my government and public officers accustomed to corrupt practices to understand there will be no sacred cows under my government."
The mess is there for everyone with eyes to see, and ears to hear, about a decade into the new beginning. You know history is littered with leaders who promise new beginnings but end up drawing inspiration from the past. Silas the albino monk of Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code cannot be in a safer company.
It is you to decide whether to continue doing the same things the same way, and still expect different results. A people get the leaders they deserve. Several times bitten, we should know better.
The culmination of the greatest leadership fraud was the nation-wrecking violence that followed the mangled 2007 presidential election. Wolves had discarded sheepskins.
Status quo established its dominance, with security agencies defending party and ethnic interests. Impunity had stamped its authority. Corruption and abuse of office become the dominant ways of life.
There is hope the past could be locked out, with probity gaining momentum to wash out wet wax from the ears of the voting masses.
Rank outsiders are gaining acceptance as antidotes for impunity and the Judiciary could admit two fire-spitting reformers to the Bench. It is the turn of wananchi to interrogate reform credentials and integrity of politicians nursing presidential pretentions.
Never again should we allow ourselves to be manipulated.
Writer is The Standard’s Managing Editor, Quality and Production.
It is no longer safe to dress like a sheep to enter the chicken coop. You could be stripped to expose the rot in the deep recesses of your conscience.
Reform pretentions did not work for judges who wanted promotion as Chief Justice and Deputy Chief Justice, with Judicial Service commissioners asking dreaded questions.
False pretences should not work for presidential frauds scheming for the Kibaki Succession. They can buy the loyalty of your MPs, but tell them you need more than mere handouts. Tell them you want your country freed from the stranglehold of the impudent.
Presidential aspirants should be similarly interrogated to expose integrity frauds masquerading as new generation saviours. Some presidential aspirants are children and beneficiaries of impunity.
Some are working for ‘impunists’ to reclaim the past. There is a coalition against change expected to come with full implementation of the new Constitution.
Panelists to interrogate presidential pretenders shall be you — the electorate — who often eat fruits of bad leadership. It is this poor leadership that causes infectious sadness. Famine, unemployment, disease, drought, inflation, ignorance, and impunity romp the countryside with the rage of a randy bull. Someone of courage must slay this beast of impunity.
You have a chance to probe reform credentials of this clutter of wannabe presidents. With the new Constitution, and especially Chapter Six placing a premium on integrity, there is a detergent to sanitise public consciousness for greater civic responsibility.
The electorate — you and I — must resolve to ban change frauds from State House. You have to respect this resolution by registering as a voter and making informed choices. A single vote for a national cause counts. It counts because popular vote for change begins with individual citizens who are conscious of their civic responsibilities. You develop a critical mass of change agents by mobilising right-thinking individuals to buy into the cause.
The 2002 election fraud is a good reminder. The con was possible because fundamental questions were not asked. Change of guard at the top did not translate into change of values. Wolves were allowed to dress in sheepskin with impunity. The same wolves are grooming wolverines for succession.
The dream of a rainbow nation working for the national good was hijacked. Many politicians changed coat during the 2002 election, pretending to be what they were not, with promises they did not intend to keep. They signed accords they trashed at the first opportunity. They thanked you on day one, but locked the doors on your expectations once they entered the citadel.
"I feel extremely happy to address you today. I am overwhelmed by your love. I am emboldened by your support and enthusiasm. I am thrilled by your sense of dedication and commitment. You have renewed my hope and strengthened my belief in the greatness of this country. Now, all of us, both young and old, men and women, Kenyans of every ethnic group, race or creed, have embarked on a journey to a promising future with unshakeable determination and faith in God and in ourselves."
Easier said than done. They may not even want you to remember the glowing gratitude to an electorate that, within weeks became victims of unexamined leadership choices.
The sacred cows
If corruption had been slain as pledged, and impunity banished as promised, justice would not be stealing sacred cows from our midst about ten years into a regime that promised a new beginning.
First justice came for the ‘Ocampo Six’ to answer changes related to 2007 post-election violence. And now it is seeking rendition of the ‘Jersey Two’ to answer to multiple corruption charges and causing power outages.
"Corruption will now cease to be a way of life in Kenya and I call upon all those members of my government and public officers accustomed to corrupt practices to understand there will be no sacred cows under my government."
The mess is there for everyone with eyes to see, and ears to hear, about a decade into the new beginning. You know history is littered with leaders who promise new beginnings but end up drawing inspiration from the past. Silas the albino monk of Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code cannot be in a safer company.
It is you to decide whether to continue doing the same things the same way, and still expect different results. A people get the leaders they deserve. Several times bitten, we should know better.
The culmination of the greatest leadership fraud was the nation-wrecking violence that followed the mangled 2007 presidential election. Wolves had discarded sheepskins.
Status quo established its dominance, with security agencies defending party and ethnic interests. Impunity had stamped its authority. Corruption and abuse of office become the dominant ways of life.
There is hope the past could be locked out, with probity gaining momentum to wash out wet wax from the ears of the voting masses.
Rank outsiders are gaining acceptance as antidotes for impunity and the Judiciary could admit two fire-spitting reformers to the Bench. It is the turn of wananchi to interrogate reform credentials and integrity of politicians nursing presidential pretentions.
Never again should we allow ourselves to be manipulated.
Writer is The Standard’s Managing Editor, Quality and Production.
2011年5月22日星期日
From nonfiction titles to novels, reading fits into seasonal pursuits
A new James Bond spy thriller and three - count 'em - new James Patterson novels.
Fresh titles from two masters of nonfiction: David McCullough (Pulitzer Prize winner for Truman and John Adams) and Erik Larson ( The Devil in the White City).
Those and lots of other goodies can be stuffed into your book bag, whether you're destined for a South Carolina beach or the backyard hammock come summer.
With help from staff members at the Columbus Metropolitan Library, we've compiled a list of fiction and nonfiction titles to watch for, along with the months in which they'll be published.
10th Anniversary (Little, Brown; 448 pages; $27.99) by James Patterson & Maxine Paetro - Murder, mystery and romance: Lindsay, Yuki and Cindy grapple with them all in the 10th installment of the "Women's Murder Club" mystery series.
Sixkill (Putnam, 304 pages, $26.95) by Robert B. Parker - The Boston Police Department asks Spenser to investigate the case of bad-boy actor Jumbo Nelson, accused of the rape and murder of a young woman. Parker, the author of more than 50 books, died in January.
The Final Storm (Ballantine, 480 pages, $28) by Jeff Shaara - In the style of The Killer Angels (by his father, Michael), the son's novel tells the story of the World War II battle of Okinawa from the perspective of players such as soldiers and generals.
Nonfiction
On China (Penguin, 608 pages, $36) by Henry Kissinger - The former secretary of state, who spent 40 years interacting with Chinese leaders, draws on his experiences as well as historical sources to paint a picture of China's engagement with the West.
In the Garden of Beasts: Love, Terror and an American Family in Hitler's Berlin (Crown, 464 pages, $26) by Erik Larson - The author of The Devil in the White City creates a portrait of Berlin during the first year of Hitler's reign.
The Greater Journey: Americans in Paris (Simon & Schuster, 576 pages, $37.50) by David McCullough - Elizabeth Blackwell, James Fenimore Cooper, Nathanial Hawthorne, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Samuel F.B. Morse, Mark Twain and scores more were among those whose genius was sparked in the City of Light from 1830 to 1900. The Pulitzer Prize-winning McCullough relates their stories. (to be released Tuesday)
Fresh titles from two masters of nonfiction: David McCullough (Pulitzer Prize winner for Truman and John Adams) and Erik Larson ( The Devil in the White City).
Those and lots of other goodies can be stuffed into your book bag, whether you're destined for a South Carolina beach or the backyard hammock come summer.
With help from staff members at the Columbus Metropolitan Library, we've compiled a list of fiction and nonfiction titles to watch for, along with the months in which they'll be published.
10th Anniversary (Little, Brown; 448 pages; $27.99) by James Patterson & Maxine Paetro - Murder, mystery and romance: Lindsay, Yuki and Cindy grapple with them all in the 10th installment of the "Women's Murder Club" mystery series.
Sixkill (Putnam, 304 pages, $26.95) by Robert B. Parker - The Boston Police Department asks Spenser to investigate the case of bad-boy actor Jumbo Nelson, accused of the rape and murder of a young woman. Parker, the author of more than 50 books, died in January.
The Final Storm (Ballantine, 480 pages, $28) by Jeff Shaara - In the style of The Killer Angels (by his father, Michael), the son's novel tells the story of the World War II battle of Okinawa from the perspective of players such as soldiers and generals.
Nonfiction
On China (Penguin, 608 pages, $36) by Henry Kissinger - The former secretary of state, who spent 40 years interacting with Chinese leaders, draws on his experiences as well as historical sources to paint a picture of China's engagement with the West.
In the Garden of Beasts: Love, Terror and an American Family in Hitler's Berlin (Crown, 464 pages, $26) by Erik Larson - The author of The Devil in the White City creates a portrait of Berlin during the first year of Hitler's reign.
The Greater Journey: Americans in Paris (Simon & Schuster, 576 pages, $37.50) by David McCullough - Elizabeth Blackwell, James Fenimore Cooper, Nathanial Hawthorne, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Samuel F.B. Morse, Mark Twain and scores more were among those whose genius was sparked in the City of Light from 1830 to 1900. The Pulitzer Prize-winning McCullough relates their stories. (to be released Tuesday)
Debbie Zavada Potoski
Debbie Zavada Potoski, of Plains Township, passed away Friday afternoon, May 20, 2011, at her residence.
Born in Wilkes-Barre, she was a daughter of John Zavada Sr. and the late Joan Atcavage Zavada. She was educated in the Wilkes-Barre Area schools and was a graduate of Coughlin High School, class of 1981. She was a graduate of Luzerne County Community College. She was a founder of the Chicken Coop. She was a member of Ss. Peter & Paul Church, Plains Township.
In addition to her father, she is survived by her husband, Leonard, with whom she celebrated their second wedding anniversary on April 2, 2011; sons, Scott and Brandon; brother, John Zavada Jr., and his wife, Debbie, of Plains Township; two nieces; as well as great-nieces and great-nephews.
Funeral services will be held at 9 a.m. Tuesday from the Michael J. Mikelski Funeral Home, 293 S. River St., Plains Township. A Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated at 9:30 a.m. at Ss. Peter & Paul Church, Plains Township. Interment will be in the parish cemetery, Plains Township. Friends may call from 5 to 8 p.m. Monday.
In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations be made to the family.
Born in Wilkes-Barre, she was a daughter of John Zavada Sr. and the late Joan Atcavage Zavada. She was educated in the Wilkes-Barre Area schools and was a graduate of Coughlin High School, class of 1981. She was a graduate of Luzerne County Community College. She was a founder of the Chicken Coop. She was a member of Ss. Peter & Paul Church, Plains Township.
In addition to her father, she is survived by her husband, Leonard, with whom she celebrated their second wedding anniversary on April 2, 2011; sons, Scott and Brandon; brother, John Zavada Jr., and his wife, Debbie, of Plains Township; two nieces; as well as great-nieces and great-nephews.
Funeral services will be held at 9 a.m. Tuesday from the Michael J. Mikelski Funeral Home, 293 S. River St., Plains Township. A Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated at 9:30 a.m. at Ss. Peter & Paul Church, Plains Township. Interment will be in the parish cemetery, Plains Township. Friends may call from 5 to 8 p.m. Monday.
In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations be made to the family.
2011年5月18日星期三
Normal considering chicken coop ordinance
The central Illinois town of Normal wants to hear what residents think about a proposed backyard chicken coop ordinance.
WJBC Radio reports that a draft of the ordinance will be up for public comment at the next town Planning Commission meeting on June 9.
Two town councilmen voted against putting the measure before the public. Councilmen Adam Nielsen says he's already gotten input from residents and he's ready to decide the issue without setting the Planning Commission up for a long night of comments.
Councilwoman Sonja Reece disagrees. She says it's important to give residents a public forum on the issue.
The draft would set rules for keeping chickens, horses and homing pigeons in Normal.
WJBC Radio reports that a draft of the ordinance will be up for public comment at the next town Planning Commission meeting on June 9.
Two town councilmen voted against putting the measure before the public. Councilmen Adam Nielsen says he's already gotten input from residents and he's ready to decide the issue without setting the Planning Commission up for a long night of comments.
Councilwoman Sonja Reece disagrees. She says it's important to give residents a public forum on the issue.
The draft would set rules for keeping chickens, horses and homing pigeons in Normal.
Amid chicken coop debate, rooster gets police attention
A rooster had something to say in Normal's debate over residential chicken coops, and ruffled some feathers in the process.
Neighbors complained Wednesday morning about a rooster crowing in a north-side neighborhood. Officers responded to the 1300 block of Ironwood Drive, ready to tell homeowners that cock-a-doodle-doos are cock-a-doodle-don'ts.
"It turns out, some wild rooster has just decided to take up residence there," Normal Sgt. Rob Hospelhorn said.
The homeowners enjoy visits from ducks and set out feeders for them, he said. "I guess the rooster thinks he's a duck," said Hospelhorn.
Later in the day, police were dispatched to the intersection of Main and Willow streets, where a family of ducks backed up traffic as they tried to cross a street. It was unclear whether the birds simply were out for a stroll or were conducting their own protest.
Normal is considering a proposal that would allow homeowners to keep up to four hens -- but no roosters. Current rules allow domesticated pets -- cats, dogs and the like -- and horses in some areas.
Neighbors complained Wednesday morning about a rooster crowing in a north-side neighborhood. Officers responded to the 1300 block of Ironwood Drive, ready to tell homeowners that cock-a-doodle-doos are cock-a-doodle-don'ts.
"It turns out, some wild rooster has just decided to take up residence there," Normal Sgt. Rob Hospelhorn said.
The homeowners enjoy visits from ducks and set out feeders for them, he said. "I guess the rooster thinks he's a duck," said Hospelhorn.
Later in the day, police were dispatched to the intersection of Main and Willow streets, where a family of ducks backed up traffic as they tried to cross a street. It was unclear whether the birds simply were out for a stroll or were conducting their own protest.
Normal is considering a proposal that would allow homeowners to keep up to four hens -- but no roosters. Current rules allow domesticated pets -- cats, dogs and the like -- and horses in some areas.
New pecking order
“It’s a better location. We wanted to be closer to downtown Wilkes-Barre,” said owner John
Stuchkus. The location would be convenient for local college students, who make up a
significant percentage of the Chicken Coop’s customer base, he said. The large number of
other businesses nearby was also a draw, he added.
Inside, the restaurant’s doucor has a sports theme, with an emphasis on Philadelphia sports.
Memorabilia honoring the Phillies and the Flyers decorate the walls, just as in the old
restaurant. The soups and sauces are still homemade. The restaurant is open for lunch and
dinner, 11 a.m. to 2 a.m., or “whenever the bar dies down,” said Stuchkus.
There are some changes, too. The new restaurant can seat up to 100 people. Stuchkus has added
more sandwiches and appetizers to the menu.
Stuchkus is particularly proud of the Chicken Coop’s hamburgers.
“Our hamburgers are 10 ounces. That’s the biggest in the area,” he said.
The Chicken Coop has a three-year lease with local architectural and engineering firm Pasonick
Engineering. The restaurant has six full-time employees, and is seeking to hire at least four
more.
This is not the first time that the Chicken Coop has moved. Founded in 1988, the first
location was on Wyoming Avenue in Wyoming. The restaurant moved from there in 1991 to the
intersection of Fox Hill Road and Route 315 in Plains Township. After the roof at that
location collapsed during a snowstorm in 2007, the Chicken Coop moved to the former Arena Bar
& Grill on Scott Street.
Stuchkus is optimistic about the North Wilkes-Barre Boulevard location.
“We’ve had a good turnout so far. The response has been positive. Things are going good,”
he said.
Stuchkus. The location would be convenient for local college students, who make up a
significant percentage of the Chicken Coop’s customer base, he said. The large number of
other businesses nearby was also a draw, he added.
Inside, the restaurant’s doucor has a sports theme, with an emphasis on Philadelphia sports.
Memorabilia honoring the Phillies and the Flyers decorate the walls, just as in the old
restaurant. The soups and sauces are still homemade. The restaurant is open for lunch and
dinner, 11 a.m. to 2 a.m., or “whenever the bar dies down,” said Stuchkus.
There are some changes, too. The new restaurant can seat up to 100 people. Stuchkus has added
more sandwiches and appetizers to the menu.
Stuchkus is particularly proud of the Chicken Coop’s hamburgers.
“Our hamburgers are 10 ounces. That’s the biggest in the area,” he said.
The Chicken Coop has a three-year lease with local architectural and engineering firm Pasonick
Engineering. The restaurant has six full-time employees, and is seeking to hire at least four
more.
This is not the first time that the Chicken Coop has moved. Founded in 1988, the first
location was on Wyoming Avenue in Wyoming. The restaurant moved from there in 1991 to the
intersection of Fox Hill Road and Route 315 in Plains Township. After the roof at that
location collapsed during a snowstorm in 2007, the Chicken Coop moved to the former Arena Bar
& Grill on Scott Street.
Stuchkus is optimistic about the North Wilkes-Barre Boulevard location.
“We’ve had a good turnout so far. The response has been positive. Things are going good,”
he said.
2011年5月15日星期日
On the trail of village petty thieves
Writer Nanjinia Wamuswa posted an update on his Facebook page that had me rolling with laughter.
Sample this. "Petty thieving at grassroots level is both funny and perplexing. A man slaughters a chicken and leaves it at the back of his hut to grab hot water for removing the feathers. But when he returns seconds later, the dead bird is gone!"
I laughed because in normal circumstances, the louts break into your chicken coop and make off with a few hefty jogoos. Those with a sense of humour even fix dinner although how they manage these acrobatics without the chickens squealing and your good-for-nothing mongrel being in the know is mind-boggling.
Curiously, while a fat chicken goes for as much Sh500 in the village, petty thieves don’t sell them. When you trail their footprints the next morning, they lead to a hideout where a cursory scene of crime investigation reveals they slaughtered, roasted and ate them.
Unfortunately, you can never arrest them because in nearly all circumstances, they are always related to you. Now farmers have wizened up and these days, chicken coops and granaries are more fortified than your average bank. So desperate is the situation that, as Nanjinia points out, the only recourse for petty thieves is to wait till your back is turned after slaughtering your bird.
Stealing food
I was still chuckling about this when my sister-in-law informed me that she had fallen victim to the louts again. Barely 8pm in the night, as she took a bath, they sneaked into her kitchen and made away with the dinner she had prepared for her family. Being people with foresight, they grabbed all her utensils and her bucket of maize flour as well. Whether Simba, the family dog, saw them is still a mystery because so far, he has steadfastly refused to assist with investigations. But the petty thieves who did me in were not quite petty. It started when I espied my little cousin, Vivian, buying fish at the market and conveniently offered her a lift to her house. So there I was watching TV and cracking silly jokes while the aforementioned tilapia stewed.
Deathly silence
The meal was delicious and certainly worth the 23km drive back home. After I had made short work of the menu, I burped contentedly and rose to leave, taking note of the fact that when I said "thanks for dinner", she said I was most welcome.
Now imagine getting my full belly behind the steering wheel on a dark, rainy night and cranking the starter only to be met by deathly silence. My battery was gone. Gone with the wind! As we speak, the proceeds of its sale have most likely paid school fees for Mama Pima’s daughter.
So while COTU boss Francis Atwoli is screaming blue murder about the high cost of living, petty thieves are laughing all the way to the village chicken coop.
Sample this. "Petty thieving at grassroots level is both funny and perplexing. A man slaughters a chicken and leaves it at the back of his hut to grab hot water for removing the feathers. But when he returns seconds later, the dead bird is gone!"
I laughed because in normal circumstances, the louts break into your chicken coop and make off with a few hefty jogoos. Those with a sense of humour even fix dinner although how they manage these acrobatics without the chickens squealing and your good-for-nothing mongrel being in the know is mind-boggling.
Curiously, while a fat chicken goes for as much Sh500 in the village, petty thieves don’t sell them. When you trail their footprints the next morning, they lead to a hideout where a cursory scene of crime investigation reveals they slaughtered, roasted and ate them.
Unfortunately, you can never arrest them because in nearly all circumstances, they are always related to you. Now farmers have wizened up and these days, chicken coops and granaries are more fortified than your average bank. So desperate is the situation that, as Nanjinia points out, the only recourse for petty thieves is to wait till your back is turned after slaughtering your bird.
Stealing food
I was still chuckling about this when my sister-in-law informed me that she had fallen victim to the louts again. Barely 8pm in the night, as she took a bath, they sneaked into her kitchen and made away with the dinner she had prepared for her family. Being people with foresight, they grabbed all her utensils and her bucket of maize flour as well. Whether Simba, the family dog, saw them is still a mystery because so far, he has steadfastly refused to assist with investigations. But the petty thieves who did me in were not quite petty. It started when I espied my little cousin, Vivian, buying fish at the market and conveniently offered her a lift to her house. So there I was watching TV and cracking silly jokes while the aforementioned tilapia stewed.
Deathly silence
The meal was delicious and certainly worth the 23km drive back home. After I had made short work of the menu, I burped contentedly and rose to leave, taking note of the fact that when I said "thanks for dinner", she said I was most welcome.
Now imagine getting my full belly behind the steering wheel on a dark, rainy night and cranking the starter only to be met by deathly silence. My battery was gone. Gone with the wind! As we speak, the proceeds of its sale have most likely paid school fees for Mama Pima’s daughter.
So while COTU boss Francis Atwoli is screaming blue murder about the high cost of living, petty thieves are laughing all the way to the village chicken coop.
Despite the fog, officer’s wife clearly sees community’s support
Shortly before I show up for the interview at her rural home north of Springfield, Kristie Kilcullen finds the words scrawled a few pages into a blank notepad:
“I love you, sweetie.”
They were, of course, from him: her husband, Chris Kilcullen, the 43-year-old Eugene police officer who was shot and killed April 22 by a motorist he’d pulled over on Highway 126 in Springfield.
Not far away sits a box of hundreds of letters and sympathy cards that have poured in from strangers. From widows of other officers killed in the line of duty. From school kids — “my favorites,” Kristie says. From “sweet little old ladies” who might include a $10 check for her two kids’ scholarship fund.
So, on the notepad: a reminder of the man she’s lost. In the box of mail: a reminder of the support she never knew she had.
Grief and gratitude amid what she calls the “fog” of instant widowhood.
“I’m not sure ‘comforting’ is the right word regarding the outpouring because my heart is so broken right now,” says Kilcullen, 40. “I’m not sure anything can comfort me. But it’s touched me. Deeply.”
In some ways, even overwhelmed her: learning, for example, that the University of Oregon had donated Matthew Knight Arena for her husband’s memorial service.
On the night before the memorial service, walking into a room at EPD’s command center to see dozens of law enforcement officers who’d arrived from around the state to help organize the procession and service. “All these people who gave up a week of their lives and kids’ baseball games,” she says. “I wanted to hug every one of them.”
Seeing, from inside the limo during the procession, a throng of people lined up on the Mohawk Boulevard overpass across Highway 126. Then, after fearing less community support in Eugene, finding herself pleasantly surprised. Among those paying their respects: a man in the Whiteaker neighborhood whom her husband had arrested before, hoisting a beer in his honor.
Opening a bill from McKenzie Disposal. “Our heartfelt condolences,” it said. No payment needed.
Hearing the sound of a car outside and realizing it’s another daily meal being brought to the family by Lane County law enforcement families; the schedule runs through early July.
Realizing that the May 6 Dutch Bros. coffee fundraiser brought in $61,000 to fund scholarships for her two children. And that more than 3,200 people have stamped their approval on a Facebook site to have that stretch of Highway 126 named in her husband’s honor.
Being surrounded by an entourage of family and friends and Chris’ co-workers, there to serve and protect.
All of which feels good, she says, until she sees the Rock Band drum set in the corner of the family room and remembers her husband. “He said he was never going to grow up. He was a little kid in a big-boy uniform.”
Until she sees the custom chicken coop he built out back or the Duck football jersey with Chris’ badge number, 248, on it, given to her at halftime of the UO spring game at Autzen Stadium eight days after his death; “he’d be over the moon with that.”
Until she flips through what she thought was an empty notebook and sees his handwriting.
“I’m still in shock, completely,” says Kilcullen, a wad of Kleenex in her hand. “Breathing is my goal.”
The hardest moments? “Telling (4-year-old) Katie her dad was not coming home. Or every time she picks a wishing flower and blows on it and says, ‘I wish daddy would come home.’”
And how, as an adult, she tries to say something comforting but, deep down, feels just as Katie does. “People say I’m strong,” says Kilcullen, who is taking a break from her job as a State Farm claims adjustor in Springfield. “I don’t feel strong. I feel heartbroken.”
But appreciative. And cautiously hopeful.
That her husband’s death will awaken some people to the respect police officers deserve, she says, but don’t always get. Say, when officers use force in a situation and some immediately assume it’s a case of police overreaction.
“Too many people play armchair quarterback and think we should Kumbaya situations that can’t be Kumbaya-ed,” she says.
She said as much in a letter that was read on her behalf at the memorial service, a letter that was forthright but, she tells you, actually toned down from the original.
“He goes to work everyday to protect people, puts his life on the line and we sacrifice and miss birthday parties and pagers go off while you’re leaving for vacation and he’s 100 percent gone during football season and after a while, yes, resentment builds up when you don’t feel people appreciate that,” she says.
But after his death, she saw another side to the community. Now, she wonders if she misjudged the amount of support there is for the police. Or if Chris’ death has inspired such support.
At any rate, she says, Chris would have loved to see the respect paid for a fallen officer.
“Everyone is hurting and coming together and it’s mind-boggling,” she says. “I’m cautiously optimistic things might be different now. I want families of cops to realize something: If, God forbid, anything like this should happen to your family, this community has your backs.”
No, it won’t ease her grieving, but she’s sensed it in every letter she opens. Every blue ribbon she still sees flying. And in her walk up the Autzen Stadium aisle after the halftime presentation. Applause from adjacent fans followed her up like a vertical wave. But what she remembers most was one older man whose respect, she’d like to believe, wasn’t intended so much for her as for Chris and for every man and woman in blue. He stood at full attention, hand on brow in full salute.
“I love you, sweetie.”
They were, of course, from him: her husband, Chris Kilcullen, the 43-year-old Eugene police officer who was shot and killed April 22 by a motorist he’d pulled over on Highway 126 in Springfield.
Not far away sits a box of hundreds of letters and sympathy cards that have poured in from strangers. From widows of other officers killed in the line of duty. From school kids — “my favorites,” Kristie says. From “sweet little old ladies” who might include a $10 check for her two kids’ scholarship fund.
So, on the notepad: a reminder of the man she’s lost. In the box of mail: a reminder of the support she never knew she had.
Grief and gratitude amid what she calls the “fog” of instant widowhood.
“I’m not sure ‘comforting’ is the right word regarding the outpouring because my heart is so broken right now,” says Kilcullen, 40. “I’m not sure anything can comfort me. But it’s touched me. Deeply.”
In some ways, even overwhelmed her: learning, for example, that the University of Oregon had donated Matthew Knight Arena for her husband’s memorial service.
On the night before the memorial service, walking into a room at EPD’s command center to see dozens of law enforcement officers who’d arrived from around the state to help organize the procession and service. “All these people who gave up a week of their lives and kids’ baseball games,” she says. “I wanted to hug every one of them.”
Seeing, from inside the limo during the procession, a throng of people lined up on the Mohawk Boulevard overpass across Highway 126. Then, after fearing less community support in Eugene, finding herself pleasantly surprised. Among those paying their respects: a man in the Whiteaker neighborhood whom her husband had arrested before, hoisting a beer in his honor.
Opening a bill from McKenzie Disposal. “Our heartfelt condolences,” it said. No payment needed.
Hearing the sound of a car outside and realizing it’s another daily meal being brought to the family by Lane County law enforcement families; the schedule runs through early July.
Realizing that the May 6 Dutch Bros. coffee fundraiser brought in $61,000 to fund scholarships for her two children. And that more than 3,200 people have stamped their approval on a Facebook site to have that stretch of Highway 126 named in her husband’s honor.
Being surrounded by an entourage of family and friends and Chris’ co-workers, there to serve and protect.
All of which feels good, she says, until she sees the Rock Band drum set in the corner of the family room and remembers her husband. “He said he was never going to grow up. He was a little kid in a big-boy uniform.”
Until she sees the custom chicken coop he built out back or the Duck football jersey with Chris’ badge number, 248, on it, given to her at halftime of the UO spring game at Autzen Stadium eight days after his death; “he’d be over the moon with that.”
Until she flips through what she thought was an empty notebook and sees his handwriting.
“I’m still in shock, completely,” says Kilcullen, a wad of Kleenex in her hand. “Breathing is my goal.”
The hardest moments? “Telling (4-year-old) Katie her dad was not coming home. Or every time she picks a wishing flower and blows on it and says, ‘I wish daddy would come home.’”
And how, as an adult, she tries to say something comforting but, deep down, feels just as Katie does. “People say I’m strong,” says Kilcullen, who is taking a break from her job as a State Farm claims adjustor in Springfield. “I don’t feel strong. I feel heartbroken.”
But appreciative. And cautiously hopeful.
That her husband’s death will awaken some people to the respect police officers deserve, she says, but don’t always get. Say, when officers use force in a situation and some immediately assume it’s a case of police overreaction.
“Too many people play armchair quarterback and think we should Kumbaya situations that can’t be Kumbaya-ed,” she says.
She said as much in a letter that was read on her behalf at the memorial service, a letter that was forthright but, she tells you, actually toned down from the original.
“He goes to work everyday to protect people, puts his life on the line and we sacrifice and miss birthday parties and pagers go off while you’re leaving for vacation and he’s 100 percent gone during football season and after a while, yes, resentment builds up when you don’t feel people appreciate that,” she says.
But after his death, she saw another side to the community. Now, she wonders if she misjudged the amount of support there is for the police. Or if Chris’ death has inspired such support.
At any rate, she says, Chris would have loved to see the respect paid for a fallen officer.
“Everyone is hurting and coming together and it’s mind-boggling,” she says. “I’m cautiously optimistic things might be different now. I want families of cops to realize something: If, God forbid, anything like this should happen to your family, this community has your backs.”
No, it won’t ease her grieving, but she’s sensed it in every letter she opens. Every blue ribbon she still sees flying. And in her walk up the Autzen Stadium aisle after the halftime presentation. Applause from adjacent fans followed her up like a vertical wave. But what she remembers most was one older man whose respect, she’d like to believe, wasn’t intended so much for her as for Chris and for every man and woman in blue. He stood at full attention, hand on brow in full salute.
Normal council to vote on chicken coop ordinance
The Normal City Council will consider whether to send a proposed ordinance allowing urban chicken coops through the public hearing process at its meeting Monday night.
Normal resident Mike Sebald asked the council to consider such an ordinance at the May 2 meeting. Council members asked town staff to create an ordinance for consideration.
The proposal would allow up to four hens of certain breeds and require a $5 permit, an enclosure and at least 25 feet distance between the chickens and adjacent lots.
Residents could not have roosters and could not slaughter chickens.
The council, which meets at 7 p.m. Monday night at Normal City Hall, 100 E. Phoenix Ave., will decide if the proposed ordinance takes the next step -- going to the June planning commission for a public hearing.
If that occurs, the commission would make a recommendation to the council and the council would make the final decision.
In a report to the City Council, Town Planner Mercy Davison said staff contacted several communities with urban chicken ordinances, including Naperville and Urbana, and learned there are very few complaints.
Sebald previously told the council four hens would provide about 12 to 18 eggs a week. He also maintains that because of the expense and time involved, it likely only would interest a small group of residents so it wouldn't change the community.
Some council members expressed concern about residents who might not be responsible chicken owners.
Besides addressing urban chicken coops, Davison said the proposed ordinance clarifies the town's rules about riding horses and homing pigeons.
Currently riding horses are allowed but the ordinance does not include regulations. The proposal would require at least 10,000 square feet of open space per horse and at least 25 feet between a barn, shed, stable or other enclosure for horses and any residence.
The proposal also adds homing pigeons to allowed animals. Homing pigeons are allowed by state law.
Normal resident Mike Sebald asked the council to consider such an ordinance at the May 2 meeting. Council members asked town staff to create an ordinance for consideration.
The proposal would allow up to four hens of certain breeds and require a $5 permit, an enclosure and at least 25 feet distance between the chickens and adjacent lots.
Residents could not have roosters and could not slaughter chickens.
The council, which meets at 7 p.m. Monday night at Normal City Hall, 100 E. Phoenix Ave., will decide if the proposed ordinance takes the next step -- going to the June planning commission for a public hearing.
If that occurs, the commission would make a recommendation to the council and the council would make the final decision.
In a report to the City Council, Town Planner Mercy Davison said staff contacted several communities with urban chicken ordinances, including Naperville and Urbana, and learned there are very few complaints.
Sebald previously told the council four hens would provide about 12 to 18 eggs a week. He also maintains that because of the expense and time involved, it likely only would interest a small group of residents so it wouldn't change the community.
Some council members expressed concern about residents who might not be responsible chicken owners.
Besides addressing urban chicken coops, Davison said the proposed ordinance clarifies the town's rules about riding horses and homing pigeons.
Currently riding horses are allowed but the ordinance does not include regulations. The proposal would require at least 10,000 square feet of open space per horse and at least 25 feet between a barn, shed, stable or other enclosure for horses and any residence.
The proposal also adds homing pigeons to allowed animals. Homing pigeons are allowed by state law.
2011年5月10日星期二
'Package Store', 'Hen' Hearings Tonight
"Package stores" and chicken coops could arrive in Barrington at just about the same time.
Ordinances to give out Class A liquor licenses in Barrington and to raise hens in back yards for fresh eggs get public hearings before the Town Council tonight, May 9, at 7 in Town Hall.
The councilors are expected “to vote up or down” at the hearings, said Barrington Solicitor Mike Ursillo, who drafted both ordinances.
The Class A liquor-license ordinance incorporates recommendations from several town boards and a myriad of conditions future license-holders will have to agree to. The location of a package store, for instance, cannot be within 200 feet of a school or church. Age-verification equipment must be installed.
If the Class A ordinance is approved by the Town Council, Ursillo said, it is feasible that the first ordinance for a "package store" could be awarded by the councilors within four weeks.
The ordinance to raise chickens, specifically the keeping of hens in a coop behind a house, also includes a variety of conditions, including the number of hens allowed -- 3 maximum -- and the space for the chicken coop – no more than 20 square feet.
The town's current zoning ordinance prohibits the keeping of swine or poultry.
Among the other conditions for getting a Class A liquor license are that it reverts to the town and is “not transferable” if the business closes. Also:
1. Consumption of alcohol cannot take place on the premises or in the parking lot.
2. The license holder must make sure the business does not disturb the peace or allow “unlawful activity” by patrons, employees or it agents.
3. No loitering of minors in or around the business.
4. Attempts to use false IDs must be reported to police immediately.
5. Alcohol can be sold only from 7 am to 10 pm.
6. No person can enter the store after 10 pm.
7. All employees must complete certified alcohol server training.
8. Employees must be recertified every three years and prove that they completed server training.
9. Valid server permits must be available in the store.
10. Stores must display warning signs for anyone underage thinking about buying alcohol.
11. An owner must have a written policy for checking IDs.
A condition not included is restricting the age of sellers of alcohol.
“I could not find case law to support restricting sellers to a certain age,” Ursillo said, a condition that no other retail establishment must abide by.
The application form for the Class A license also must include “an exact description” of the store to be licensed, including a site plan, and a copy of the article of incorporation or a partnership agreement.
The Town Council could give out as many as four Class A licenses based on the town's population. The councilors decided months ago, however, to walk before they run and award one license after a careful process of moving the town from "dry" to "wet" status in Rhode Island.
See the complete ordinances for a Class A liquor store here: Town ordinance; zoning ordinance.
Raising chickens in Barrington back yards for fresh eggs dates back to October, 2009, when Sam and Dorothy Abram of Bowden Avenue asked for permission.
The issue was referred to the five-member zoning committee, which was formed to recommend amendments to the Zoning Ordinance and Subdivision Regulations. The group took up the issue of back-yard chickens late last summer and then adjourned during election season before renewing study of the issue. They reviewed regulations in Warren, Bristol and Providence, which allow the practice.
By a split 3-2 vote, the committee recommended that the zoning ordinance allow chickens in back yards up to a maximum of three on any one lot. Only hens would be allowed -- no roosters. The coop and fenced-in area could be no larger than 20 square feet.
Here are the standards and restrictions:
1. No more than three chickens on any house lot.
2. No roosters permitted.
3. The purpose is for egg production only, not for slaughter.
4. Chickens must be kept in a coop and an outside area enclosed with chicken wire.
5. The enclosure must be resistant to predators, like coyotes and foxes.
6. The surface must not be paved; it must permeable.
7. Chickens can be raised only in back yards or side yards.
8. The coop and enclosure must be kept clean and secure; feed also must be kept in a secure container to avoid attracting rodents.
9. The setbacks for the coop and enclosure shall be the same as those for the main house.
10. The coops and enclosure shall not exceed 20 square feet.
11. Property owners who raise chickens must comply with nuisance ordinance requirements.
12. Chicken manure must be kept within an enclosed compost bin within the 20-square-foot area.
13. The coop and fence shall not exceed 5 feet in height.
14. Raising chickens shall be for non-commerical purposed only.
15. The town shall charge a fee with a registration process.
Ordinances to give out Class A liquor licenses in Barrington and to raise hens in back yards for fresh eggs get public hearings before the Town Council tonight, May 9, at 7 in Town Hall.
The councilors are expected “to vote up or down” at the hearings, said Barrington Solicitor Mike Ursillo, who drafted both ordinances.
The Class A liquor-license ordinance incorporates recommendations from several town boards and a myriad of conditions future license-holders will have to agree to. The location of a package store, for instance, cannot be within 200 feet of a school or church. Age-verification equipment must be installed.
If the Class A ordinance is approved by the Town Council, Ursillo said, it is feasible that the first ordinance for a "package store" could be awarded by the councilors within four weeks.
The ordinance to raise chickens, specifically the keeping of hens in a coop behind a house, also includes a variety of conditions, including the number of hens allowed -- 3 maximum -- and the space for the chicken coop – no more than 20 square feet.
The town's current zoning ordinance prohibits the keeping of swine or poultry.
Among the other conditions for getting a Class A liquor license are that it reverts to the town and is “not transferable” if the business closes. Also:
1. Consumption of alcohol cannot take place on the premises or in the parking lot.
2. The license holder must make sure the business does not disturb the peace or allow “unlawful activity” by patrons, employees or it agents.
3. No loitering of minors in or around the business.
4. Attempts to use false IDs must be reported to police immediately.
5. Alcohol can be sold only from 7 am to 10 pm.
6. No person can enter the store after 10 pm.
7. All employees must complete certified alcohol server training.
8. Employees must be recertified every three years and prove that they completed server training.
9. Valid server permits must be available in the store.
10. Stores must display warning signs for anyone underage thinking about buying alcohol.
11. An owner must have a written policy for checking IDs.
A condition not included is restricting the age of sellers of alcohol.
“I could not find case law to support restricting sellers to a certain age,” Ursillo said, a condition that no other retail establishment must abide by.
The application form for the Class A license also must include “an exact description” of the store to be licensed, including a site plan, and a copy of the article of incorporation or a partnership agreement.
The Town Council could give out as many as four Class A licenses based on the town's population. The councilors decided months ago, however, to walk before they run and award one license after a careful process of moving the town from "dry" to "wet" status in Rhode Island.
See the complete ordinances for a Class A liquor store here: Town ordinance; zoning ordinance.
Raising chickens in Barrington back yards for fresh eggs dates back to October, 2009, when Sam and Dorothy Abram of Bowden Avenue asked for permission.
The issue was referred to the five-member zoning committee, which was formed to recommend amendments to the Zoning Ordinance and Subdivision Regulations. The group took up the issue of back-yard chickens late last summer and then adjourned during election season before renewing study of the issue. They reviewed regulations in Warren, Bristol and Providence, which allow the practice.
By a split 3-2 vote, the committee recommended that the zoning ordinance allow chickens in back yards up to a maximum of three on any one lot. Only hens would be allowed -- no roosters. The coop and fenced-in area could be no larger than 20 square feet.
Here are the standards and restrictions:
1. No more than three chickens on any house lot.
2. No roosters permitted.
3. The purpose is for egg production only, not for slaughter.
4. Chickens must be kept in a coop and an outside area enclosed with chicken wire.
5. The enclosure must be resistant to predators, like coyotes and foxes.
6. The surface must not be paved; it must permeable.
7. Chickens can be raised only in back yards or side yards.
8. The coop and enclosure must be kept clean and secure; feed also must be kept in a secure container to avoid attracting rodents.
9. The setbacks for the coop and enclosure shall be the same as those for the main house.
10. The coops and enclosure shall not exceed 20 square feet.
11. Property owners who raise chickens must comply with nuisance ordinance requirements.
12. Chicken manure must be kept within an enclosed compost bin within the 20-square-foot area.
13. The coop and fence shall not exceed 5 feet in height.
14. Raising chickens shall be for non-commerical purposed only.
15. The town shall charge a fee with a registration process.
A squawk in the night
The rooster’s crow which heralded the dawn of a new day, has long been replaced by the drone of traffic everywhere.
AT THE first light of dawn, the long crow of a lone rooster broke the silence of a village slowly stirring to life. Other roosters picked up the call and soon the undulating crow of roosters heralding the approach of daylight, echoed through the village.
The afternoons were filled with the raucous cackles of the egg-layers and the evenings with the clucks and chirps of chickens foraging for food. Night was a time of peace and quiet, broken occasionally by a sudden squawk.
In the small village of Batu Berendam, Malacca, where I grew up in the early 1950s, all the families in our neighbourhood kept kampung chickens or free-range chickens for their eggs and meat. The cacophony of chicken calls that permeated the air from morn to dusk had become an integral part of the village life.
Mother, too, kept a few hens for their eggs and most mornings we would have two half-boiled eggs for breakfast. We did not worry unduly about hypertension or high cholesterol then.
Popular figure: The fowl seller of Batu Berendam, Malacca. – Illustration by Wan Chwee Seng
My cousin, Fook, had discovered a convenient and expedient method of consuming eggs. At the first sound of a cackle, he would rush to the chicken coop. The moment a hen laid an egg, he would pluck the egg from underneath the sitting hen, give it a gentle crack and gulp the warm content with relish. Sometimes the hen would sound a false alarm and sometimes when he was in a hurry, he would give the hen a helping hand or rather a finger. Today, he still vouches for the raw eggs’ exquisite taste and medicinal value.
Rearing chickens in those days had its attendant risks. Besides succumbing to diseases, the chickens would fall prey to civets or chicken thieves.
Back then, we did not have supermarkets where we could purchase dressed chicken and the nearest wet market was miles away. To buy or sell chickens, the villagers had to rely on the itinerant fowl-sellers who would go from village to village to hawk their wares. The chickens were packed in a woven bamboo basket strapped to the bicycle’s rear carrier.
Whenever there was a chicken theft, the fowl-sellers somehow became the prime suspects as it was said that they would visit houses during the day on the pretext of purchasing chickens and having studied the location of the chicken coop and getaway route, would return at night to steal the chickens.
In our village, the kampung folks relied on Mat, the affable fowl-seller from a neighbouring village, whenever they needed to buy or sell chickens. The squeak of pedals and the crunch of wheels on the pebble-strewn compound would send excited children scurrying out of their houses, while housewives with purses in hands strolled leisurely to greet his arrival.
“Eh! Mat, ni ayam curi atau beli?” (Mat, is this stolen or bought chicken?) someone would ask in jest.
He had become the butt of their jokes since the day he had unknowingly sold some stolen chickens to their former owner.
“Tentulah, ayam beli,” (Of course, they are bought chicken), he would reply with a faint chuckle.
While the children gawked at the chickens, the housewives busied themselves with selecting the choicest chickens. Long after the purchases had been made, continuous chatter followed by intermittent laughter could still be heard as the womenfolk lingered to gossip and listen to the latest local news.
One dark and rainy night, my teenage cousin, Swee, was awakened by the fluttering of wings and the squawking of chickens. Not daring to venture into the dark night, he called out in his best stentorian voice: “Mat, saya tahu awak ada di sana!” (“Mat, I know you’re there!”)
The poor guy, if he had been in the immediate vicinity of the coop, would have got the fright of his life, wondering how someone could recognise him in the pitch dark.
The next day, in the grey hour of morning, Swee was already making a head count of his chickens and he heaved a sigh of relief when he discovered that except for the few dislodged feathers, all the chickens were accounted for.
Now my cousins and I have all moved away from the village and settled in towns or cities.
One evening, my sister appeared unexpectedly at our doorstep with five cross-bred chickens in hand.
“Do you like to keep these chicks?” she asked.
One look at the cute and fuzzy chicks and I knew I could not resist the offer. The chicks were housed in a hastily built coop placed behind the house. It was not long before the chicks had transformed into four hens with dark brown feathers and a magnificent rooster with feathers of iridescent hues.
One evening when I went to check on the chickens, an empty coop met my eyes. Driven by their primeval instinct, the chickens had taken to roosting on the branches of a rambutan tree. A hen had also gone missing.
One night, we were awakened by a big squawk from the back of the house.
“Ah, most probably a nocturnal predator,” I thought as I rolled over and drifted into a deep slumber.
The next morning when we strolled into the kitchen, we noticed the kitchen’s window was wide open and a few cooking utensils lay scattered on the ground in the backyard.
AT THE first light of dawn, the long crow of a lone rooster broke the silence of a village slowly stirring to life. Other roosters picked up the call and soon the undulating crow of roosters heralding the approach of daylight, echoed through the village.
The afternoons were filled with the raucous cackles of the egg-layers and the evenings with the clucks and chirps of chickens foraging for food. Night was a time of peace and quiet, broken occasionally by a sudden squawk.
In the small village of Batu Berendam, Malacca, where I grew up in the early 1950s, all the families in our neighbourhood kept kampung chickens or free-range chickens for their eggs and meat. The cacophony of chicken calls that permeated the air from morn to dusk had become an integral part of the village life.
Mother, too, kept a few hens for their eggs and most mornings we would have two half-boiled eggs for breakfast. We did not worry unduly about hypertension or high cholesterol then.
Popular figure: The fowl seller of Batu Berendam, Malacca. – Illustration by Wan Chwee Seng
My cousin, Fook, had discovered a convenient and expedient method of consuming eggs. At the first sound of a cackle, he would rush to the chicken coop. The moment a hen laid an egg, he would pluck the egg from underneath the sitting hen, give it a gentle crack and gulp the warm content with relish. Sometimes the hen would sound a false alarm and sometimes when he was in a hurry, he would give the hen a helping hand or rather a finger. Today, he still vouches for the raw eggs’ exquisite taste and medicinal value.
Rearing chickens in those days had its attendant risks. Besides succumbing to diseases, the chickens would fall prey to civets or chicken thieves.
Back then, we did not have supermarkets where we could purchase dressed chicken and the nearest wet market was miles away. To buy or sell chickens, the villagers had to rely on the itinerant fowl-sellers who would go from village to village to hawk their wares. The chickens were packed in a woven bamboo basket strapped to the bicycle’s rear carrier.
Whenever there was a chicken theft, the fowl-sellers somehow became the prime suspects as it was said that they would visit houses during the day on the pretext of purchasing chickens and having studied the location of the chicken coop and getaway route, would return at night to steal the chickens.
In our village, the kampung folks relied on Mat, the affable fowl-seller from a neighbouring village, whenever they needed to buy or sell chickens. The squeak of pedals and the crunch of wheels on the pebble-strewn compound would send excited children scurrying out of their houses, while housewives with purses in hands strolled leisurely to greet his arrival.
“Eh! Mat, ni ayam curi atau beli?” (Mat, is this stolen or bought chicken?) someone would ask in jest.
He had become the butt of their jokes since the day he had unknowingly sold some stolen chickens to their former owner.
“Tentulah, ayam beli,” (Of course, they are bought chicken), he would reply with a faint chuckle.
While the children gawked at the chickens, the housewives busied themselves with selecting the choicest chickens. Long after the purchases had been made, continuous chatter followed by intermittent laughter could still be heard as the womenfolk lingered to gossip and listen to the latest local news.
One dark and rainy night, my teenage cousin, Swee, was awakened by the fluttering of wings and the squawking of chickens. Not daring to venture into the dark night, he called out in his best stentorian voice: “Mat, saya tahu awak ada di sana!” (“Mat, I know you’re there!”)
The poor guy, if he had been in the immediate vicinity of the coop, would have got the fright of his life, wondering how someone could recognise him in the pitch dark.
The next day, in the grey hour of morning, Swee was already making a head count of his chickens and he heaved a sigh of relief when he discovered that except for the few dislodged feathers, all the chickens were accounted for.
Now my cousins and I have all moved away from the village and settled in towns or cities.
One evening, my sister appeared unexpectedly at our doorstep with five cross-bred chickens in hand.
“Do you like to keep these chicks?” she asked.
One look at the cute and fuzzy chicks and I knew I could not resist the offer. The chicks were housed in a hastily built coop placed behind the house. It was not long before the chicks had transformed into four hens with dark brown feathers and a magnificent rooster with feathers of iridescent hues.
One evening when I went to check on the chickens, an empty coop met my eyes. Driven by their primeval instinct, the chickens had taken to roosting on the branches of a rambutan tree. A hen had also gone missing.
One night, we were awakened by a big squawk from the back of the house.
“Ah, most probably a nocturnal predator,” I thought as I rolled over and drifted into a deep slumber.
The next morning when we strolled into the kitchen, we noticed the kitchen’s window was wide open and a few cooking utensils lay scattered on the ground in the backyard.
2011年5月8日星期日
Who Guards Whom at the Commodity Exchange? (Fortune, 1980)
Something about the Hunt brothers just doesn't inspire public sympathy. After taking a financial drubbing in their recent struggle to hang on to $4 billion worth of silver, both Nelson Bunker and brother William Herbert cried foul before congressional committees. They charged the New York Commodity Exchange's Board of Governors with "manipulative actions" that had crippled them. Stoically, both Congress and public managed to suppress any tiny quiver of compassion.
The Hunts' accusations were nevertheless quite pertinent and accurate. The chummy board members of the Comex -- as the New York exchange is called -- make up a club that had a powerful, personal, and collective interest in sending the price of silver into a tumble. They are still trying hard to mask their role as double agents-as governors and traders; rulers and ruled-in the seething Comex arena. All through silver's upward flight, they had stubbornly clung to their own short positions, binding them to being sellers at fixed future prices; and the carrying charges had come close to ruining them. But they found their remedy-by putting on their governors' robes in the exchange boardroom, switching regulations on their own trading, and neatly turning a misbegotten gamble into an assured success.
The performance of these acrobatics is no new stunt, of course. In the treacherous world of commodity trading, the alarm has long and often been sounded: "The foxes are guarding the chicken coop." To this, the typical retort is echoed anew by the 36-year-old Comex president, Lee Berendt: "Nonsense. The Hunts have been participating in this marketplace a long time. They know we are self-regulated and the rules can change."
Technically, according to lawyer Berendt, the rules weren't tampered with: "We merely executed our authority within parameters that we always had a right to do."
In the Hunts' ordeal, these conveniently elastic parameters were stretched by a Comex emergency edict decreeing that silver futures (contracts to receive or deliver at a specified date and price) could be traded only for the purpose of liquidating speculative positions. There was one cunning exception: the short sellers, a key power faction on the exchange, could sell for purposes of effecting delivery, thus reducing their own bullion inventories—and risk. In other words, as of last January 21, the Hunts and their Saudi partners-and all the smaller fry caught by this sudden rule change-could unload as many silver contracts as they wanted to on the New York Commodity Exchange, but they couldn't buy into any new positions. A market thus comprising only sellers' obviously could only collapse. It did on March 27, in the crash soon christened Silver Thursday.
A strut in the pit
The plunge did not follow, of course, entirely and exclusively from a single rule change. In commodities, even more than in stocks, the hypnotic skill of the seller, as well as the greed or ignorance of the buyer, can cause its own grief. Dexterity—or duplicity—can reign here.
A clear case in point arises with the controversy surrounding ContiCommodity Services Inc. and more particularly the activities of Norton Waltuch, its flamboyant vice president in New York. If it hadn't been for a quick $80-million capital infusion from its parent company, Continental Grain Co., Conti would have gone bankrupt by Silver Thursday. Yet Waltuch himself emerged from the crash with a personal profit believed to be more than $10 million. Two weeks ago, Waltuch was summoned before Senator Donald Stewart's agriculture subcommittee, which is investigating the commodity futures market (see the box on page 42). Conti's lawyers originally sought to prevent Waltuch's appearance, hazily claiming "it wouldn't be appropriate."
Norton Waltuch
During the big run-up in silver, Waltuch had traded mainly for Arab clients. The biggest, Naji Nahas, at one time owed Conti $51 million. According to Waltuch's office colleagues, it was his ceremonial custom, late in trading sessions, to don his yellow Conti jacket and strut confidently into the Comex silver pit, where his mere presence would buoy the market. "The major silver long is in the ring," an audio hot line would report to all Conti offices around the world. "Someday they'll make a movie about this," Waltuch announced to his coterie in the pit one day as silver continued to soar. Short of making a film, he proceeded to make a fortune, bailing out in time-not at the top, perhaps, but still a big winner. He didn't share his belated queasiness about silver with his customers. In the blunt judgment of one of his associates: "Norton betrayed us."
There have been complicated repercussions. A Chicago commodities lawyer retained by Nahas, Philip Bloom; does not expect to sue Waltuch, but he does contemplate suing Comex. He claims that late last year a series of purportedly confidential meetings with Comex induced his client to roll forward his silver contracts, instead of taking delivery. As Nahas cooperated, he relieved the squeeze on the traders to come up with, the scarce silver bullion. According to Bloom, however, word of his client's intentions leaked onto the trading floor, making the cost of rolling forward prohibitive. Bloom further assails Comex for issuing its "liquidation trading only" edict, on the ground that a true emergency did not exist. "The only emergency," he says, "was the financial crisis incurred by the shorts."
To buttress his charges, Bloom has demanded the minutes of the Comex board meetings held on January 7, 8, and 21. He particularly wants to determine if the members who were short disqualified themselves from the voting, as Chairman Ralph Peters did at the Chicago Board of Trade (CBOT). So far Comex has refused to release the minutes. "The information is confidential," Comex President Lee Berendt has told Bloom. Meanwhile, a number of other suits threaten-quite possibly including one, of course, by the Hunts.
The Hunts' accusations were nevertheless quite pertinent and accurate. The chummy board members of the Comex -- as the New York exchange is called -- make up a club that had a powerful, personal, and collective interest in sending the price of silver into a tumble. They are still trying hard to mask their role as double agents-as governors and traders; rulers and ruled-in the seething Comex arena. All through silver's upward flight, they had stubbornly clung to their own short positions, binding them to being sellers at fixed future prices; and the carrying charges had come close to ruining them. But they found their remedy-by putting on their governors' robes in the exchange boardroom, switching regulations on their own trading, and neatly turning a misbegotten gamble into an assured success.
The performance of these acrobatics is no new stunt, of course. In the treacherous world of commodity trading, the alarm has long and often been sounded: "The foxes are guarding the chicken coop." To this, the typical retort is echoed anew by the 36-year-old Comex president, Lee Berendt: "Nonsense. The Hunts have been participating in this marketplace a long time. They know we are self-regulated and the rules can change."
Technically, according to lawyer Berendt, the rules weren't tampered with: "We merely executed our authority within parameters that we always had a right to do."
In the Hunts' ordeal, these conveniently elastic parameters were stretched by a Comex emergency edict decreeing that silver futures (contracts to receive or deliver at a specified date and price) could be traded only for the purpose of liquidating speculative positions. There was one cunning exception: the short sellers, a key power faction on the exchange, could sell for purposes of effecting delivery, thus reducing their own bullion inventories—and risk. In other words, as of last January 21, the Hunts and their Saudi partners-and all the smaller fry caught by this sudden rule change-could unload as many silver contracts as they wanted to on the New York Commodity Exchange, but they couldn't buy into any new positions. A market thus comprising only sellers' obviously could only collapse. It did on March 27, in the crash soon christened Silver Thursday.
A strut in the pit
The plunge did not follow, of course, entirely and exclusively from a single rule change. In commodities, even more than in stocks, the hypnotic skill of the seller, as well as the greed or ignorance of the buyer, can cause its own grief. Dexterity—or duplicity—can reign here.
A clear case in point arises with the controversy surrounding ContiCommodity Services Inc. and more particularly the activities of Norton Waltuch, its flamboyant vice president in New York. If it hadn't been for a quick $80-million capital infusion from its parent company, Continental Grain Co., Conti would have gone bankrupt by Silver Thursday. Yet Waltuch himself emerged from the crash with a personal profit believed to be more than $10 million. Two weeks ago, Waltuch was summoned before Senator Donald Stewart's agriculture subcommittee, which is investigating the commodity futures market (see the box on page 42). Conti's lawyers originally sought to prevent Waltuch's appearance, hazily claiming "it wouldn't be appropriate."
Norton Waltuch
During the big run-up in silver, Waltuch had traded mainly for Arab clients. The biggest, Naji Nahas, at one time owed Conti $51 million. According to Waltuch's office colleagues, it was his ceremonial custom, late in trading sessions, to don his yellow Conti jacket and strut confidently into the Comex silver pit, where his mere presence would buoy the market. "The major silver long is in the ring," an audio hot line would report to all Conti offices around the world. "Someday they'll make a movie about this," Waltuch announced to his coterie in the pit one day as silver continued to soar. Short of making a film, he proceeded to make a fortune, bailing out in time-not at the top, perhaps, but still a big winner. He didn't share his belated queasiness about silver with his customers. In the blunt judgment of one of his associates: "Norton betrayed us."
There have been complicated repercussions. A Chicago commodities lawyer retained by Nahas, Philip Bloom; does not expect to sue Waltuch, but he does contemplate suing Comex. He claims that late last year a series of purportedly confidential meetings with Comex induced his client to roll forward his silver contracts, instead of taking delivery. As Nahas cooperated, he relieved the squeeze on the traders to come up with, the scarce silver bullion. According to Bloom, however, word of his client's intentions leaked onto the trading floor, making the cost of rolling forward prohibitive. Bloom further assails Comex for issuing its "liquidation trading only" edict, on the ground that a true emergency did not exist. "The only emergency," he says, "was the financial crisis incurred by the shorts."
To buttress his charges, Bloom has demanded the minutes of the Comex board meetings held on January 7, 8, and 21. He particularly wants to determine if the members who were short disqualified themselves from the voting, as Chairman Ralph Peters did at the Chicago Board of Trade (CBOT). So far Comex has refused to release the minutes. "The information is confidential," Comex President Lee Berendt has told Bloom. Meanwhile, a number of other suits threaten-quite possibly including one, of course, by the Hunts.
Fans of 1994 movie can follow footsteps of prison characters during Ohio tour
The oak is a Hollywood star with glitz and glitter and its own film credit.
The tree stands in the middle of a farmer's field outside Malabar Farm State Park in north-central Ohio.
The oak off Pleasant Valley Road is a tourist attraction and a stop on Ohio's little-known Shawshank Trail.
The drive-it-yourself Hollywood tour, around Mansfield in Richland County, celebrates the 1994 film "The Shawshank Redemption" with Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman.
The Shawshank Trail, with 12 stops in three counties, has its own website, brochure, map and special offers for visitors.
If you start in Mansfield, hit all the local stops and then drive to Upper Sandusky, you'll cover about 90 miles along the trail, organizers report.
"The Shawshank Redemption," based on a Stephen King short story, earned an Academy Award nomination for Freeman. It had modest box-office success, but has become a cult favorite.
As much as 95 percent of the film was shot in Mansfield, including the now-closed Ohio State Reformatory. Other scenes were shot in Ashland, Butler and Upper Sandusky in Ohio, plus the U.S. Virgin Islands and Portland, Maine.
When "Red" Redding (Morgan Freeman) is released from prison, he follows instructions left him by Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins) to find a box hidden beneath a tree.
Yes, that's the Malabar Farm oak, although the cinematic setting is in New England. That rock wall, added through Hollywood magic-making, is where Dufresne has left a surprise for Redding.
The oak tree at Malabar Farm is easy to find. If you turn right on leaving the park, the tree will be on your left about 200 yards from the park entrance on the north side of Pleasant Valley Road.
It looks like a Hollywood star.
The tree is on private property and visitors are asked not to trespass. You can view the tree in the middle of a grassy field from a turnoff on the south side of the road.
The biggest location from "The Shawshank Redemption" is the old Ohio State Reformatory on Mansfield's north side.
Construction of the prison began in 1886. It opened in 1896 and housed about 154,000 prisoners over 94 years. It closed in 1990. Listed on the National Register of Historic Places, the reformatory boasts the world's largest free-standing steel cell block.
The Mansfield Reformatory Preservation Society offers Sunday afternoon tours. The 2011 season began May 1. There are three tours and they start from 1 to 3:45 p.m. on a rotating basis every 15 minutes. The Sunday tours continue through September.
The Hollywood tour includes a peek at Dufresne's tunnel, which is two feet in diameter. The sewage Dufresne crawled through in the film was concocted from chocolate syrup, sawdust and water.
You can also see the warden's office and the carving on the ceiling that reads "Brooks was here. So was Red."
In addition, you can take a self-guided prison tour from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. weekdays through September.
Tickets for the Sunday and weekday tours are $8 for adults and $6 for children 7 to 17.
All 15 ghost hunts and eight ghost walks in the old prison are sold out for 2011. The 2012 schedule will be released in October. For information, call 419-522-2644 or check http://www.mrps.org or http://www.mansfieldtourism.com.
Other Mansfield sites in the movie include Central Park with its white gazebo; the Carrousel Antique Shop at 118 N. Main St. in the city's historical Carrousel District; and the Bissman Building at 193 N. Main St. (it was the Brewer Hotel in the film).
Stops in Ashland include Revivals Thrift Store at 345 Orange St. and the Huntington National Bank at 19 W. Main St.
In Upper Sandusky, the trail stops are the Wyandot County Courthouse at 109 S. Sandusky Ave. and the Stephan Lumber Co. at 228 S. Eighth St. (open by appointment with advance notice, 419-835-5163).
Two other sites in Malabar Farm State Park are stops on the Shawshank Trail: the so-called Big House and the Pugh Cabin.
The Big House has its own very real Hollywood connection. The 32-room farmhouse, the onetime home of Pulitzer Prize-winning author and conservationist Louis Bromfield (1896-1956), is where Hollywood stars Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall were married in 1945.
Bogart and Bromfield had become friends when Bromfield lived in New York City.
The farm, acquired by Bromfield in 1939, was the base for his innovative farming techniques in Pleasant Valley. The farm was named after India's Malabar coast, the setting for his novel The Rains Came.
The farm is the big attraction at the 917-acre state park between Mansfield and Loudonville. It was acquired by the state in 1972.
The park offers 12 miles of hiking trails but tours of the Big House and the barns with the farm animals are the most popular attractions. Tours lasting 40 minutes are offered year-round. The fee is $4 for adults, $3.60 for 55 and older and $2 for students 6 through 18.
The house is filled with antiques, art objects, 6,000 books and French furnishings. Everything looks like it did when Bromfield, his wife, Anne, and their three daughters lived there.
Wagon tours of the farm are also available. The tours are 45 minutes. The fee is $2 for everyone 16 and older.
Discounted tickets combining the house tour and wagon ride are $5 for adults and $3 for children 6 to 18.
Other features at the park include a working dairy barn, a petting farm, a farm discovery center, a sugar maple camp, a sawmill, a smokehouse, a chicken coop, flower gardens, an amphitheater, a playground and a roadside stand for pesticide-free produce.
The tree stands in the middle of a farmer's field outside Malabar Farm State Park in north-central Ohio.
The oak off Pleasant Valley Road is a tourist attraction and a stop on Ohio's little-known Shawshank Trail.
The drive-it-yourself Hollywood tour, around Mansfield in Richland County, celebrates the 1994 film "The Shawshank Redemption" with Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman.
The Shawshank Trail, with 12 stops in three counties, has its own website, brochure, map and special offers for visitors.
If you start in Mansfield, hit all the local stops and then drive to Upper Sandusky, you'll cover about 90 miles along the trail, organizers report.
"The Shawshank Redemption," based on a Stephen King short story, earned an Academy Award nomination for Freeman. It had modest box-office success, but has become a cult favorite.
As much as 95 percent of the film was shot in Mansfield, including the now-closed Ohio State Reformatory. Other scenes were shot in Ashland, Butler and Upper Sandusky in Ohio, plus the U.S. Virgin Islands and Portland, Maine.
When "Red" Redding (Morgan Freeman) is released from prison, he follows instructions left him by Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins) to find a box hidden beneath a tree.
Yes, that's the Malabar Farm oak, although the cinematic setting is in New England. That rock wall, added through Hollywood magic-making, is where Dufresne has left a surprise for Redding.
The oak tree at Malabar Farm is easy to find. If you turn right on leaving the park, the tree will be on your left about 200 yards from the park entrance on the north side of Pleasant Valley Road.
It looks like a Hollywood star.
The tree is on private property and visitors are asked not to trespass. You can view the tree in the middle of a grassy field from a turnoff on the south side of the road.
The biggest location from "The Shawshank Redemption" is the old Ohio State Reformatory on Mansfield's north side.
Construction of the prison began in 1886. It opened in 1896 and housed about 154,000 prisoners over 94 years. It closed in 1990. Listed on the National Register of Historic Places, the reformatory boasts the world's largest free-standing steel cell block.
The Mansfield Reformatory Preservation Society offers Sunday afternoon tours. The 2011 season began May 1. There are three tours and they start from 1 to 3:45 p.m. on a rotating basis every 15 minutes. The Sunday tours continue through September.
The Hollywood tour includes a peek at Dufresne's tunnel, which is two feet in diameter. The sewage Dufresne crawled through in the film was concocted from chocolate syrup, sawdust and water.
You can also see the warden's office and the carving on the ceiling that reads "Brooks was here. So was Red."
In addition, you can take a self-guided prison tour from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. weekdays through September.
Tickets for the Sunday and weekday tours are $8 for adults and $6 for children 7 to 17.
All 15 ghost hunts and eight ghost walks in the old prison are sold out for 2011. The 2012 schedule will be released in October. For information, call 419-522-2644 or check http://www.mrps.org or http://www.mansfieldtourism.com.
Other Mansfield sites in the movie include Central Park with its white gazebo; the Carrousel Antique Shop at 118 N. Main St. in the city's historical Carrousel District; and the Bissman Building at 193 N. Main St. (it was the Brewer Hotel in the film).
Stops in Ashland include Revivals Thrift Store at 345 Orange St. and the Huntington National Bank at 19 W. Main St.
In Upper Sandusky, the trail stops are the Wyandot County Courthouse at 109 S. Sandusky Ave. and the Stephan Lumber Co. at 228 S. Eighth St. (open by appointment with advance notice, 419-835-5163).
Two other sites in Malabar Farm State Park are stops on the Shawshank Trail: the so-called Big House and the Pugh Cabin.
The Big House has its own very real Hollywood connection. The 32-room farmhouse, the onetime home of Pulitzer Prize-winning author and conservationist Louis Bromfield (1896-1956), is where Hollywood stars Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall were married in 1945.
Bogart and Bromfield had become friends when Bromfield lived in New York City.
The farm, acquired by Bromfield in 1939, was the base for his innovative farming techniques in Pleasant Valley. The farm was named after India's Malabar coast, the setting for his novel The Rains Came.
The farm is the big attraction at the 917-acre state park between Mansfield and Loudonville. It was acquired by the state in 1972.
The park offers 12 miles of hiking trails but tours of the Big House and the barns with the farm animals are the most popular attractions. Tours lasting 40 minutes are offered year-round. The fee is $4 for adults, $3.60 for 55 and older and $2 for students 6 through 18.
The house is filled with antiques, art objects, 6,000 books and French furnishings. Everything looks like it did when Bromfield, his wife, Anne, and their three daughters lived there.
Wagon tours of the farm are also available. The tours are 45 minutes. The fee is $2 for everyone 16 and older.
Discounted tickets combining the house tour and wagon ride are $5 for adults and $3 for children 6 to 18.
Other features at the park include a working dairy barn, a petting farm, a farm discovery center, a sugar maple camp, a sawmill, a smokehouse, a chicken coop, flower gardens, an amphitheater, a playground and a roadside stand for pesticide-free produce.
2011年5月4日星期三
‘Chicken Whisperer’ weighs in on backyard poultry issue
Backyard poultry has a lot of advantages, according to the Chicken Whisperer. Andy Schneider holds workshops to educate people that are interested in having chickens in their backyards as pets or for their eggs. He says there’s a surprising number of towns in the United States that allow backyard chickens.
“About 85 percent of the towns that approach changing the laws to allow backyard poultry do end up changing those laws, with some of the laws a little more strict than others.”
The Normal Town Council is drafting a proposed ordinance that would allow backyard chickens after a resident asked if he could have a chicken coop outside his house. Schneider says he hasn’t seen any data that suggests residential poultry devalues a house.
“Show me just one case, anywhere in America, where someone got $10,000 less for their house because their neighbor had chickens or the town they were trying to sell their house in allowed backyard poultry. It doesn’t exist, so it’s a moot point when people try to bring that up.”
If people are concerned about what to do with a backyard chicken after it dies, Schneider says to fear not.
“Some people may bury it, some people may compost it, and some may put it in the garbage just like you did with that rotisserie chicken you didn’t finish from the grocery store last night!”
Listen to R.C. and Jim’s interview with the Chicken Whisperer below.
“About 85 percent of the towns that approach changing the laws to allow backyard poultry do end up changing those laws, with some of the laws a little more strict than others.”
The Normal Town Council is drafting a proposed ordinance that would allow backyard chickens after a resident asked if he could have a chicken coop outside his house. Schneider says he hasn’t seen any data that suggests residential poultry devalues a house.
“Show me just one case, anywhere in America, where someone got $10,000 less for their house because their neighbor had chickens or the town they were trying to sell their house in allowed backyard poultry. It doesn’t exist, so it’s a moot point when people try to bring that up.”
If people are concerned about what to do with a backyard chicken after it dies, Schneider says to fear not.
“Some people may bury it, some people may compost it, and some may put it in the garbage just like you did with that rotisserie chicken you didn’t finish from the grocery store last night!”
Listen to R.C. and Jim’s interview with the Chicken Whisperer below.
Mindless vandals trash Bretton school playhouse
A PRE-SCHOOL has been left counting the cost of a “mindless” act of vandalism after yobs trashed a playhouse bought in memory of a late chairman.
Callous vandals smashed the doors and windows of the two-storey wooden building at Bretton Community Pre-School, in Watergall, Peterborough, which was built as a memorial to Margaret Crampton who worked there for 30 years.
The vandals also damaged a chicken coop, which was donated to the pre-school following an appeal in the Evening Telegraph, and even cruelly smashed eggs waiting to hatch.
Deputy manager Deb Ritchie described the attack as “mindless vandalism”.
She said: “It’s senseless, they have not stolen anything.”
It is damage the not-for-profit organisation can ill afford and it has issued an appeal to the community for help to repair the damage.
The vandalism carries an additional emotional impact in that it has targeted the memory of a beloved former colleague.
Mrs Crampton, known affectionately as Meg, joined the pre-school in 1975 and stayed with the charity until 2002, when she was forced to retire due to ill health.
She continued however as its chairman, passing away in 2007 at the age of 65, and soon afterwards her family donated £500 to the pre-school to pay for the playhouse.
Her widower, Doug Crampton (68), of Werrington, said the pre-school was “almost a second home” to his wife.
He said: “She put so much effort into that place, she just enjoyed it, she just loved being around the kids.”
Mr Crampton added he thought it was unlikely the vandals knew of the sentimental attachment to the building.
He said: “If I thought for one moment they knew what they were doing I would be stuck for words you would be able to print. The fact is it’s mindless, wanton and unthinking.
“It’s typical of a small group of unparented, unthinking idiots.”
The damage was reported to police in the early hours of Sunday morning.
A Cambridgeshire police spokeswoman said: “This is a mindless act of vandalism which has left the children without a playhouse and we would urge anyone with information about those responsible to contact police.”
Callous vandals smashed the doors and windows of the two-storey wooden building at Bretton Community Pre-School, in Watergall, Peterborough, which was built as a memorial to Margaret Crampton who worked there for 30 years.
The vandals also damaged a chicken coop, which was donated to the pre-school following an appeal in the Evening Telegraph, and even cruelly smashed eggs waiting to hatch.
Deputy manager Deb Ritchie described the attack as “mindless vandalism”.
She said: “It’s senseless, they have not stolen anything.”
It is damage the not-for-profit organisation can ill afford and it has issued an appeal to the community for help to repair the damage.
The vandalism carries an additional emotional impact in that it has targeted the memory of a beloved former colleague.
Mrs Crampton, known affectionately as Meg, joined the pre-school in 1975 and stayed with the charity until 2002, when she was forced to retire due to ill health.
She continued however as its chairman, passing away in 2007 at the age of 65, and soon afterwards her family donated £500 to the pre-school to pay for the playhouse.
Her widower, Doug Crampton (68), of Werrington, said the pre-school was “almost a second home” to his wife.
He said: “She put so much effort into that place, she just enjoyed it, she just loved being around the kids.”
Mr Crampton added he thought it was unlikely the vandals knew of the sentimental attachment to the building.
He said: “If I thought for one moment they knew what they were doing I would be stuck for words you would be able to print. The fact is it’s mindless, wanton and unthinking.
“It’s typical of a small group of unparented, unthinking idiots.”
The damage was reported to police in the early hours of Sunday morning.
A Cambridgeshire police spokeswoman said: “This is a mindless act of vandalism which has left the children without a playhouse and we would urge anyone with information about those responsible to contact police.”
2011年5月2日星期一
It isn’t just going to be a chicken coop
Ena McPherson chose a seemingly unlikely place to begin construction of a chicken coop last Saturday at an empty lot on the corner of Throop and Willoughby Avenues. But Bed-Stuy is home to dozens of community gardens, and as an organizer of two in the area already, McPherson is adding this one to the list.
The chicken build was the starting point for the community space, but McPherson plans to bring the garden beyond poultry.
“It isn’t just going to be a chicken coop,” she said. “It’s going to be an urban farm with flowers and vegetables in raised beds, as well as a chicken farm, starting off with a dozen chicks.” McPherson also mentioned the possibility of a fish pond, using the slate that is scattered throughout the lot.
The event attracted volunteers from all around Brooklyn interested in self-sustainability and community agriculture. Delores Harris has a beehive in a community garden in Brooklyn Heights and makes her own soap. She said that she is particularly interested in urban farming and learning to be self-sufficient.
“I want to grow what I eat and I do it just for fun. But I end up giving it to the neighbors, because there's so much left over,” she said, laughing.
Jose Luis Quinones came on Saturday afternoon because he is interested in building a chicken coop and wanted to see how it could be done. Quinones helps run a community garden in Coney Island with 31 people, 20 chickens, goats and rabbits.
He is from Puerto Rico and used to garden with his grandmother, so he said he is used to getting his hands dirty. But he also views these events as more important than just getting things done.
“It's not just to build, it’s to teach the neighborhood,” he said. “I’d like to teach people to build, because it’s so easy and anyone can learn, and it can help get kids jobs.”
McPherson is also motivated by the idea of getting kids more involved with the community through these kinds of events. “It’s empowering for the kids because they can see what they accomplished,” she said. “They can say they were a part of it.”
The project is part of the idea of Community Supported Agriculture (CSA), which provides fresh produce from local farms for people in the community.
The lot at Throop and Willoughby is owned by Housing Preservation and Development (HPD), and while HPD supports the plan to turn the lot into a community garden, the project is not yet fully protected because it is so newly formed.
“HPD could say ‘that's it’ and decide to build a five story building or condos right here,” McPherson said. “If we make it an asset to the community it will be harder for them to kick us out.”
So far, McPherson has had a great deal of support from community organizations like Green Thumb and New York Cares, which donated $1100-worth of supplies for the chicken build.
Despite this backing, the project is still short on the necessary tools needed to create the fully functional urban farm that McPherson is hoping for.
“We're short on resources because we're short on funding,” McPherson said. According to McPherson, the project is supported by Green Thumb but is officially in the jurisdiction of the New York City Parks Department. “If we make it a viable project, we’ll be under the jurisdiction of Green Thumb,” she said.
Once the coop is finished, there is still work left to do. McPherson plans to build and plant with volunteers every weekend throughout the season until the lot is transformed into an exciting spot for residents to come hang out and relax.
“We hope this is just the beginning of something wonderful.”
The chicken build was the starting point for the community space, but McPherson plans to bring the garden beyond poultry.
“It isn’t just going to be a chicken coop,” she said. “It’s going to be an urban farm with flowers and vegetables in raised beds, as well as a chicken farm, starting off with a dozen chicks.” McPherson also mentioned the possibility of a fish pond, using the slate that is scattered throughout the lot.
The event attracted volunteers from all around Brooklyn interested in self-sustainability and community agriculture. Delores Harris has a beehive in a community garden in Brooklyn Heights and makes her own soap. She said that she is particularly interested in urban farming and learning to be self-sufficient.
“I want to grow what I eat and I do it just for fun. But I end up giving it to the neighbors, because there's so much left over,” she said, laughing.
Jose Luis Quinones came on Saturday afternoon because he is interested in building a chicken coop and wanted to see how it could be done. Quinones helps run a community garden in Coney Island with 31 people, 20 chickens, goats and rabbits.
He is from Puerto Rico and used to garden with his grandmother, so he said he is used to getting his hands dirty. But he also views these events as more important than just getting things done.
“It's not just to build, it’s to teach the neighborhood,” he said. “I’d like to teach people to build, because it’s so easy and anyone can learn, and it can help get kids jobs.”
McPherson is also motivated by the idea of getting kids more involved with the community through these kinds of events. “It’s empowering for the kids because they can see what they accomplished,” she said. “They can say they were a part of it.”
The project is part of the idea of Community Supported Agriculture (CSA), which provides fresh produce from local farms for people in the community.
The lot at Throop and Willoughby is owned by Housing Preservation and Development (HPD), and while HPD supports the plan to turn the lot into a community garden, the project is not yet fully protected because it is so newly formed.
“HPD could say ‘that's it’ and decide to build a five story building or condos right here,” McPherson said. “If we make it an asset to the community it will be harder for them to kick us out.”
So far, McPherson has had a great deal of support from community organizations like Green Thumb and New York Cares, which donated $1100-worth of supplies for the chicken build.
Despite this backing, the project is still short on the necessary tools needed to create the fully functional urban farm that McPherson is hoping for.
“We're short on resources because we're short on funding,” McPherson said. According to McPherson, the project is supported by Green Thumb but is officially in the jurisdiction of the New York City Parks Department. “If we make it a viable project, we’ll be under the jurisdiction of Green Thumb,” she said.
Once the coop is finished, there is still work left to do. McPherson plans to build and plant with volunteers every weekend throughout the season until the lot is transformed into an exciting spot for residents to come hang out and relax.
“We hope this is just the beginning of something wonderful.”
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