washingtontimes--2020-10-17--For Breonna: Louisville rapper pens song a day on racism

LOUISVILLE , Ky. ( AP ) - Protesting has long been as American as apple pie , with one of the primary ways of amplifying a protest ’ s message and movement coming through music .
Think Bob Dylan ’ s “ Hurricane , ” Creedence Clearwater Revival ’ s “ Fortunate Son , ” Rage Against The Machine ’ s “ Killing In The Name ” or countless others throughout time .
Now Lexington-based social activist and hip-hop artist Richard Spaulding , better known through his alias Devine Carama , is doing the same , focusing on Breonna Taylor @ @ @ @ @ @ @ March by Louisville police .
On July 19 , Carama kicked off “ 16 Bars For Breonna ” on his SoundCloud page with the intent of releasing a new verse or song each day about Taylor ’ s case until she receives justice .
However , after jumping into it Carama quickly realized that he needed to expand his creative limits on the project , not just focusing on Breonna Taylor ’ s case but also the myriad of other systemic issues facing Black Americans such as gentrification , red-lining and health disparities @ @ @ @ @ @ @ COVID-19 and its adverse effects on the black population , including Carama ’ s own brother and cousin .
“ As I started to delve into it I realized that I didn ’ t just want these songs and verses to be about Breonna because there ’ s only so much I can say about a person I ’ ve never met , ” said Carama .
“ So I chose to make each verse and song not only about her but also something that had to do with systemic racism and oppression @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Taylor ’ s case also hit home extra hard due to him being the father of four girls , one of which he lost this past April in a fatal car crash .
Taylor ’ s death felt like a gut punch for Carama as he stood in downtown Louisville with countless others on Sept. 23 hearing the grand jury results being read aloud .
No officers were indicted in Taylor ’ s death directly ; instead , one officer was indicted for shots into other apartments .
Channeling emotions from his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ imagine how he would react if what had happened to Taylor had happened to one of his own daughters .
The same empathy that left Carama outraged is what he hopes those who listen to “ 16 Bars For Breonna ” will take away from the experience .
“ ( The Breonna Taylor grand jury results ) just highlighted everything we ’ re fighting for when it comes to systemic racism and the unprotective way that we handle black women in America , ” said Carama .
“ The grand jurors speaking out @ @ @ @ @ @ @ controversy , speculation and doubt surrounding Breonna Taylor ’ s case.
” From the start , the project faced confrontational issues head on , trying to use empathy as a tool to place people with perspectives and life experiences different from his own into a similar situation in hopes of getting them to understand his own outrage .
The first song , aptly titled “ 16 Bars For Breonna , ” wastes no time mincing words about the disparities in America when it comes to justice for blacks and whites as Carama says @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Jenner or Calipari ’ s daughter / Think officers would be suspended ?
/ Nah each one would be hand-cuffed and arrested.
” Other songs hit home with the emotional vulnerability they elicit , with “ I Did Everything Right ” running through how many Black Americans are told to live straight and narrow lives and listen to the police , only to end up in body bags regardless like Taylor , their life ( and the song ) ending in a series of abrupt and poignant gunshots .
“ Children Of The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ American crying because he shouldn ’ t have to protest to obtain equal rights .
Other issues discussed throughout the 50 songs include gentrification , red-lining , white fragility , voter suppression , the evolution of the black women through slavery , Jim Crow and the civil rights movement to present day and even local issues like whether Rupp Arena should be renamed .
“ I want to pull on some heart strings and use my artistry to get people to think , second-guess themselves and maybe wander outside of their ideologies or @ @ @ @ @ @ @ truths within the music to get a better understanding for where our unrest is coming from , ” said Carama .
“ I want listeners to be placed in our community ’ s position and think ‘ What if that was my daughter ?
What if that was my sister ?
What if that was my niece ?
’ ” Carama says he was constantly taking notes on ideas and inspiration for the project as he wrote new music for “ 16 Bars For Breonna ” daily .
Each of the songs were @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to seven at a time in Lexington at the home studio of friend and long-time collaborator Jaysyn Wyche , also known as JK-47 .
Carama also collaborated with California-based producer Soulistic Beats for several songs on the project along with Portland , Oregon-based Lexington transplant LuvJonez Music .
Per Carama , the fast pace at which he had to write these songs and bring them to life has been one of the most pressure-packed scenarios he ’ s worked through as an artist .
With the upcoming election , Carama intends to repurpose @ @ @ @ @ @ @ from “ 16 Bars For Breonna ” into a new album and video project titled “ Black Men In America ” to be released in mid-October that will focus on social injustice , racial equity and what he and other Black men can do to further engage with their communities and political systems to fight systemic racism and oppression .

MATT WICKSTROM, The Lexington Herald-Leader

LOUISVILLE, Ky. (AP) - Protesting has long been as American as apple pie, with one of the primary ways of amplifying a protest’s message and movement coming through music.
Think Bob Dylan’s “Hurricane,” Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Fortunate Son,” Rage Against The Machine’s “Killing In The Name” or countless others throughout time.
Now Lexington-based social activist and hip-hop artist Richard Spaulding, better known through his alias Devine Carama, is doing the same, focusing on Breonna Taylor, fatally shot in her apartment in March by Louisville police.
‘Rubber stamp?’ Lexington council votes to adjust police disciplinary procedures
On July 19, Carama kicked off “16 Bars For Breonna” on his SoundCloud page with the intent of releasing a new verse or song each day about Taylor’s case until she receives justice.
However, after jumping into it Carama quickly realized that he needed to expand his creative limits on the project, not just focusing on Breonna Taylor’s case but also the myriad of other systemic issues facing Black Americans such as gentrification, red-lining and health disparities, under a microscope recently due to COVID-19 and its adverse effects on the black population, including Carama’s own brother and cousin.
“As I started to delve into it I realized that I didn’t just want these songs and verses to be about Breonna because there’s only so much I can say about a person I’ve never met,” said Carama. “So I chose to make each verse and song not only about her but also something that had to do with systemic racism and oppression on a larger scale.”
For Carama, Taylor’s case also hit home extra hard due to him being the father of four girls, one of which he lost this past April in a fatal car crash. Taylor’s death felt like a gut punch for Carama as he stood in downtown Louisville with countless others on Sept. 23 hearing the grand jury results being read aloud. No officers were indicted in Taylor’s death directly; instead, one officer was indicted for shots into other apartments.
Channeling emotions from his own recent loss, Carama began to imagine how he would react if what had happened to Taylor had happened to one of his own daughters. The same empathy that left Carama outraged is what he hopes those who listen to “16 Bars For Breonna” will take away from the experience.
“(The Breonna Taylor grand jury results ) just highlighted everything we’re fighting for when it comes to systemic racism and the unprotective way that we handle black women in America,” said Carama. “The grand jurors speaking out since the verdict only adds to the controversy, speculation and doubt surrounding Breonna Taylor’s case.”
From the start, the project faced confrontational issues head on, trying to use empathy as a tool to place people with perspectives and life experiences different from his own into a similar situation in hopes of getting them to understand his own outrage.
The first song, aptly titled “16 Bars For Breonna,” wastes no time mincing words about the disparities in America when it comes to justice for blacks and whites as Carama says “Imagine if Breonna Taylor was Kylie Jenner or Calipari’s daughter / Think officers would be suspended? / Nah each one would be hand-cuffed and arrested.”
Other songs hit home with the emotional vulnerability they elicit, with “I Did Everything Right” running through how many Black Americans are told to live straight and narrow lives and listen to the police, only to end up in body bags regardless like Taylor, their life (and the song) ending in a series of abrupt and poignant gunshots.
“Children Of The Ghetto” begins with a young Black American crying because he shouldn’t have to protest to obtain equal rights.
Other issues discussed throughout the 50 songs include gentrification, red-lining, white fragility, voter suppression, the evolution of the black women through slavery, Jim Crow and the civil rights movement to present day and even local issues like whether Rupp Arena should be renamed.
“I want to pull on some heart strings and use my artistry to get people to think, second-guess themselves and maybe wander outside of their ideologies or political circle to hear the pain and truths within the music to get a better understanding for where our unrest is coming from,” said Carama. “I want listeners to be placed in our community’s position and think ‘What if that was my daughter? What if that was my sister? What if that was my niece?’ ”
Carama says he was constantly taking notes on ideas and inspiration for the project as he wrote new music for “16 Bars For Breonna” daily. Each of the songs were recorded and produced in batches of five to seven at a time in Lexington at the home studio of friend and long-time collaborator Jaysyn Wyche, also known as JK-47.
Carama also collaborated with California-based producer Soulistic Beats for several songs on the project along with Portland, Oregon-based Lexington transplant LuvJonez Music. Per Carama, the fast pace at which he had to write these songs and bring them to life has been one of the most pressure-packed scenarios he’s worked through as an artist.
With the upcoming election, Carama intends to repurpose around 15 songs produced by LuvJonez Music from “16 Bars For Breonna” into a new album and video project titled “Black Men In America” to be released in mid-October that will focus on social injustice, racial equity and what he and other Black men can do to further engage with their communities and political systems to fight systemic racism and oppression.


washingtontimes--2020-10-17--Tennessee teen among first female Eagle Scouts in US

NASHVILLE , Tenn. ( AP ) - Weaving confidently through the woods around Shelby Bottoms Nature Center , 17-year-old Anna-Christina Laporte chatted about declining bee populations and how pollinators are needed to sustain the global food supply .
The teen , who goes by Christina , set her sights on becoming an Eagle Scout as soon as Boy Scouts began allowing girls into the program in February 2019 .
She joined Troop 934 in Mt .
Juliet and started working toward her goal , going on to earn a total of 109 badges .
Laporte built pollinator “ hotels ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Eagle Scout project .
The hotels serve as alternative homes for bees and pollinators that lost their original habitats or were pushed out of their colonies by others .
Now she ’ s one of the first female Eagle Scouts in the nation , earning her status earlier this month .
“ I have the opportunity to be one of the first girls to get it and to start something else for other girls along the way .
I can carve that path for them , ” Laporte said .
Her mother , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ who are boys may have been working on their Eagle Scout status as early as age 10 .
For her daughter , the timeline was accelerated to meet the requirements before she turned 18 .
“ They had to meet every single requirement that every boy has to meet , ” Brandi Laporte said .
“ Depending on your age , the maximum amount of time you had to do it in was 24 months.
” Her daughter did it in 19 months .
Eagle Scouts are required to earn 21 badges , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ complete a project as a Life Scout .
The inaugural class of female Eagle Scouts will be recognized by Scouts BSA in February 2021 , according to the organization ’ s website .
Why pollinators matter so much Rusty patched bumblebees were listed as endangered for the first time in 2017 , among dramatically declining populations in other species of bees in recent decades .
Bees are responsible for pollinating most of the plants that require insect pollination to produce fruits , seeds and nuts .
Without pollination , crops will fail , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on them at risk .
The reduction is believed to be caused by a combination of habitat loss , disease , pesticide use , climate change and an extremely small population size .
Laporte said she was inspired to do her project at Shelby Bottoms after she worked with Metro Parks naturalist John Michael Cassidy to earn three of her merit badges .
The hotels are built into frames made of pine and filled with bamboo , cedar , walnut and cardboard for pollinators to tuck into .
Several were installed along the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Center .
Cassidy said Shelby Bottoms has worked to create or preserve habitats for other pollinators as well , such as monarch butterflies .
He said a recent bloom of a field of tickseed sunflowers in the park drew thousands of pollinators like soldier beetles , along with scores of curious onlookers .
Cassidy said Nashville residents can make space to draw and sustain pollinators in their own yards by using fewer chemicals .
He said they can also create “ wild zones ” where native perennial plants and weedy-yard flowers like dandelions @ @ @ @ @ @ @ source for pollinators .
“ We are so incredibly grateful to our Scouts for all they do for parks , ” Shelby Bottoms Nature Center director Denise Weyer said in an email .
“ Christina was our first female Eagle Scout , and we couldn ’ t be more proud of her !
It is a real privilege to work with such dedicated and passionate young leaders , and Eagle Scouts are definitely the leaders of tomorrow.
” While Laporte doesn ’ t have plans to build more pollinator hotels , she said @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to do the same .
“ I ’ d like to leave that open for other Scouts to come along and leave their little footprint , ” she said .

NASHVILLE, Tenn. (AP) - Weaving confidently through the woods around Shelby Bottoms Nature Center, 17-year-old Anna-Christina Laporte chatted about declining bee populations and how pollinators are needed to sustain the global food supply.
The teen, who goes by Christina, set her sights on becoming an Eagle Scout as soon as Boy Scouts began allowing girls into the program in February 2019. She joined Troop 934 in Mt. Juliet and started working toward her goal, going on to earn a total of 109 badges.
Laporte built pollinator “hotels” at Shelby Bottoms as part of her Eagle Scout project. The hotels serve as alternative homes for bees and pollinators that lost their original habitats or were pushed out of their colonies by others.
Now she’s one of the first female Eagle Scouts in the nation, earning her status earlier this month.
“I have the opportunity to be one of the first girls to get it and to start something else for other girls along the way. I can carve that path for them,” Laporte said.
Her mother, Brandi Laporte, said that some Scouts who are boys may have been working on their Eagle Scout status as early as age 10. For her daughter, the timeline was accelerated to meet the requirements before she turned 18.
“They had to meet every single requirement that every boy has to meet,” Brandi Laporte said. “Depending on your age, the maximum amount of time you had to do it in was 24 months.”
Her daughter did it in 19 months.
Eagle Scouts are required to earn 21 badges, hold leadership positions for six months and complete a project as a Life Scout. The inaugural class of female Eagle Scouts will be recognized by Scouts BSA in February 2021, according to the organization’s website.
Why pollinators matter so much
Rusty patched bumblebees were listed as endangered for the first time in 2017, among dramatically declining populations in other species of bees in recent decades.
Bees are responsible for pollinating most of the plants that require insect pollination to produce fruits, seeds and nuts.
Without pollination, crops will fail, putting the humans and animals who depend on them at risk. The reduction is believed to be caused by a combination of habitat loss, disease, pesticide use, climate change and an extremely small population size.
Laporte said she was inspired to do her project at Shelby Bottoms after she worked with Metro Parks naturalist John Michael Cassidy to earn three of her merit badges.
The hotels are built into frames made of pine and filled with bamboo, cedar, walnut and cardboard for pollinators to tuck into. Several were installed along the exterior walls of the Shelby Bottoms Nature Center.
‘The leaders of tomorrow’
Cassidy said Shelby Bottoms has worked to create or preserve habitats for other pollinators as well, such as monarch butterflies. He said a recent bloom of a field of tickseed sunflowers in the park drew thousands of pollinators like soldier beetles, along with scores of curious onlookers.
Cassidy said Nashville residents can make space to draw and sustain pollinators in their own yards by using fewer chemicals. He said they can also create “wild zones” where native perennial plants and weedy-yard flowers like dandelions and clover can serve as a food source for pollinators.
“We are so incredibly grateful to our Scouts for all they do for parks,” Shelby Bottoms Nature Center director Denise Weyer said in an email. “Christina was our first female Eagle Scout, and we couldn’t be more proud of her! It is a real privilege to work with such dedicated and passionate young leaders, and Eagle Scouts are definitely the leaders of tomorrow.”
While Laporte doesn’t have plans to build more pollinator hotels, she said she hopes her project will inspire others to do the same.
“I’d like to leave that open for other Scouts to come along and leave their little footprint,” she said.


washingtontimes--2020-10-17--'Big pile' of eels dumped in NYC park; impact not yet known

NEW YORK ( AP ) - Andrew Orkin was taking a break from his evening jog to sit by Prospect Park Lake when he turned around and was startled to see a tangle of wriggling snakes .
“ And quite a big pile - fully alive , ” said Orkin , a music composer who lives near the Brooklyn park .
They turned out to be eels that had escaped from one of two large plastic bags that split open as a man dragged them to the shoreline .
After dumping the eels in the lake , the man walked @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I just want to save lives.
” The illegal release late last month became a curiosity on social media , but the dumping of exotic animals in urban parks isn ’ t new .
In cities across the country , nonnative birds , turtles , fish and lizards have settled into , and often disturbed , local ecosystems .
New Yorkers free thousands of non-native animals every year , many of them abandoned pets that quickly die .
But others can survive , reproduce and end up causing lasting harm .
“ People @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ re doing a good thing by letting them go , ” said Jason Munshi-South , urban ecologist at Fordham University .
“ Most will die .
Some will become a problem , and then there ’ s no going back.
” New York state and city officials say it ’ s too soon to know how the eels in Prospect Park might affect local species .
But based on photos taken by bystanders , officials identified them as swamp eels native to Southeast Asia like those that have been found in at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ often after being purchased at local live fish markets , officials say - the eels eat almost anything including plants , insects , crustaceans , frogs , turtles and other fish .
And they could prey upon or compete with the park ’ s native species for however long they survive , said Katrina Toal , deputy director of the New York City Department of Parks & Recreation ’ s Wildlife Unit .
There are no plans to eradicate the eels .
Since they ’ re nocturnal and spend most of their time @ @ @ @ @ @ @ rivers and marshes , spotting and removing them from the lake could be impossible .
“ This kind of species is a little tricky .
They ’ re well hidden , ” Toal said .
“ We ’ re not going to go out there and try to trap any of them.
” Without having witnessed the release , officials from the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation , which is investigating the incident , could not specify the number of eels released last month .
Bystanders described seeing more than 100 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ will look for swamp eels during the agency ’ s next survey in the spring , but don ’ t expect them to make it through the winter .
However , said University of Toronto freshwater ecologist Nicholas Mandrak , “ Even if they don ’ t survive , they could have negative short-term impacts.
” If some Prospect Park transplants survive for a few years , climate change could feasibly warm up city waters enough to render them hospitable for swamp eels , Mandrak said .
“ We shouldn ’ t come @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ re found in Asia they couldn ’ t survive in New York City , ” he said .
The exotic species previously has shown up in western New York state ’ s Hemlock and Canadice lakes in 2019 and Queens ’ Meadow Lake in 2017 .
Elsewhere , biologists have found Asian swamp eels in waterways in Hawaii , Georgia , New Jersey , Maryland , Michigan , Florida and Pennsylvania .
New York City has a long history of people introducing exotic species into its parks .
In 1890 , Shakespeare @ @ @ @ @ @ @ European starlings in Central Park that grew into a current population of hundreds of millions nationwide that outcompete native birds , destroy crops and occasionally snarl jet engines .
For decades , pet Red-eared slider turtles have been abandoned in city ponds , creating a major nuisance that has crowded out local painted turtles and fueled green algae blooms .
Voracious , sharp-toothed Northern snakehead fish - introduced by way of pet stores , live food markets and aquarium hobbyists across the U.S. - have been spotted in New York ’ s Harlem @ @ @ @ @ @ @ And descendants of escaped or released monk parakeets and Italian wall lizards are scattered across the city ’ s boroughs .
The eels are just the latest episode .
“ This is an unusual and eye-catching story , ” Toal said , “ but something that happens far more often is people release one unwanted pet.
” The Associated Press Health and Science Department receives support from the Howard Hughes Medical Institute ’ s Department of Science Education .
The AP is solely responsible for all content .

NEW YORK (AP) - Andrew Orkin was taking a break from his evening jog to sit by Prospect Park Lake when he turned around and was startled to see a tangle of wriggling snakes.
“And quite a big pile - fully alive,” said Orkin, a music composer who lives near the Brooklyn park.
They turned out to be eels that had escaped from one of two large plastic bags that split open as a man dragged them to the shoreline. After dumping the eels in the lake, the man walked away, explaining to bystanders that “I just want to save lives.”
The illegal release late last month became a curiosity on social media, but the dumping of exotic animals in urban parks isn’t new. In cities across the country, nonnative birds, turtles, fish and lizards have settled into, and often disturbed, local ecosystems.
New Yorkers free thousands of non-native animals every year, many of them abandoned pets that quickly die. But others can survive, reproduce and end up causing lasting harm.
“People like animals and they sometimes think they’re doing a good thing by letting them go,” said Jason Munshi-South, urban ecologist at Fordham University. “Most will die. Some will become a problem, and then there’s no going back.”
New York state and city officials say it’s too soon to know how the eels in Prospect Park might affect local species. But based on photos taken by bystanders, officials identified them as swamp eels native to Southeast Asia like those that have been found in at least eight states.
Once introduced - often after being purchased at local live fish markets, officials say - the eels eat almost anything including plants, insects, crustaceans, frogs, turtles and other fish. And they could prey upon or compete with the park’s native species for however long they survive, said Katrina Toal, deputy director of the New York City Department of Parks & Recreation’s Wildlife Unit.
There are no plans to eradicate the eels. Since they’re nocturnal and spend most of their time burrowed in the sediment of lakes, rivers and marshes, spotting and removing them from the lake could be impossible.
“This kind of species is a little tricky. They’re well hidden,” Toal said. “We’ re not going to go out there and try to trap any of them.”
Without having witnessed the release, officials from the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation, which is investigating the incident, could not specify the number of eels released last month. Bystanders described seeing more than 100 of them.
DEC officials say they will look for swamp eels during the agency’s next survey in the spring, but don’t expect them to make it through the winter.
However, said University of Toronto freshwater ecologist Nicholas Mandrak, “Even if they don’t survive, they could have negative short-term impacts.”
If some Prospect Park transplants survive for a few years, climate change could feasibly warm up city waters enough to render them hospitable for swamp eels, Mandrak said.
“We shouldn’t come to an immediate conclusion that because they’re found in Asia they couldn’t survive in New York City,” he said.
The exotic species previously has shown up in western New York state’s Hemlock and Canadice lakes in 2019 and Queens’ Meadow Lake in 2017. Elsewhere, biologists have found Asian swamp eels in waterways in Hawaii, Georgia, New Jersey, Maryland, Michigan, Florida and Pennsylvania.
New York City has a long history of people introducing exotic species into its parks.
In 1890, Shakespeare enthusiasts released a flock of about 60 European starlings in Central Park that grew into a current population of hundreds of millions nationwide that outcompete native birds, destroy crops and occasionally snarl jet engines.
For decades, pet Red-eared slider turtles have been abandoned in city ponds, creating a major nuisance that has crowded out local painted turtles and fueled green algae blooms.
Voracious, sharp-toothed Northern snakehead fish - introduced by way of pet stores, live food markets and aquarium hobbyists across the U.S. - have been spotted in New York’s Harlem Meer and Flushing Meadows Corona Park.
And descendants of escaped or released monk parakeets and Italian wall lizards are scattered across the city’s boroughs.
The eels are just the latest episode. “This is an unusual and eye-catching story,” Toal said, “but something that happens far more often is people release one unwanted pet.”
___
Follow Marion Renault on Twitter: @MarionRenault
___
The Associated Press Health and Science Department receives support from the Howard Hughes Medical Institute’s Department of Science Education. The AP is solely responsible for all content.


washingtontimes--2020-10-17--Oversized loads of windmill parts to travel north

COEUR D ’ ALENE , Idaho ( AP ) - About 300 oversized loads carrying windmill parts will travel from @ @ @ @ @ Alberta , Canada , over the next two months .
The Coeur d ’ Alene @ @ @ @ @ in the process of delivering the blades and tower sections for 43 windmills , with @ @ @ @ @ to 270 feet long and weighing 240,000 pounds .
The loads will depart from the @ @ @ @ @ , except Friday and Saturday nights , to travel north on U.S. 95 to Coeur @ @ @ @ @ east on Interstate 90 into Montana .
Weather conditions may impact the schedule .
Pilot @ @ @ @ @ on the two-day journey , with flaggers in place to close several intersections , including @ @ @ @ @ Way and the I-90 and U.S. 95 interchange in Coeur d ’ Alene .
Drivers @ @ @ @ @ loads move through these intersections .
Seven loads are expected each night .

COEUR D’ALENE, Idaho (AP) - About 300 oversized loads carrying windmill parts will travel from the Port of Lewiston to Alberta, Canada, over the next two months.
The Coeur d’Alene Press reports NexGen Transportation is in the process of delivering the blades and tower sections for 43 windmills, with the largest loads measuring up to 270 feet long and weighing 240,000 pounds.
The loads will depart from the Port of Lewiston every night, except Friday and Saturday nights, to travel north on U.S. 95 to Coeur d’Alene before heading east on Interstate 90 into Montana. Weather conditions may impact the schedule.
Pilot cars will escort the loads on the two-day journey, with flaggers in place to close several intersections, including U.S. 95 and Lincoln Avenue/Walnut Way and the I-90 and U.S. 95 interchange in Coeur d’Alene.
Drivers can expect delays as the loads move through these intersections. Seven loads are expected each night.


washingtontimes--2020-10-17--Gas prices rise a bit in NJ, dip a bit across nation

TRENTON , N.J. ( AP ) - Gas prices rose a bit in New Jersey but dipped a bit across @ @ @ @ @ over the last week .
AAA Mid-Atlantic says the average price of a gallon of @ @ @ @ @ on Friday was $ 2.24 , up a penny from last week .
Drivers were @ @ @ @ @ 2.55 a gallon a year ago at this time .
The national average price for @ @ @ @ @ was $ 2.17 , down a penny from the previous week .
Drivers were paying @ @ @ @ @ a gallon a year ago at this time .
Analysts say gas prices are decreasing @ @ @ @ @ to fewer road trips being taken in the fall .

TRENTON, N.J. (AP) - Gas prices rose a bit in New Jersey but dipped a bit across the nation as a whole over the last week.
AAA Mid-Atlantic says the average price of a gallon of regular gas in New Jersey on Friday was $2.24, up a penny from last week. Drivers were paying an average of $2.55 a gallon a year ago at this time.
The national average price for a gallon of regular gasoline was $2.17, down a penny from the previous week. Drivers were paying an average of $2.65 a gallon a year ago at this time.
Analysts say gas prices are decreasing nationally as demand ebbs due to fewer road trips being taken in the fall.


washingtontimes--2020-10-17--Hanover teen inspires in battling near-fatal brain infection

HANOVER , Pa. ( AP ) - July 31 was a special day for the students in South Western High School ’ s class of 2020 .
The COVID-19 pandemic had derailed their final semester and delayed their graduation ceremony by more than two months .
On that Friday evening , they were finally able to celebrate all they had accomplished .
Among those dressed in long black gowns with matching black mortar boards was Sam Zimmerman .
He and a few dozen of his classmates processed down from the high school and into the Mustang Corral , walking by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on Friday nights : The pandemic had created many new challenges .
A sudden transition to remote learning .
The cancellation of spring sports .
A palpable level of uncertainty , especially for seniors .
But even at just 18 years old , Sam was no stranger to adversity .
At a glance , he appears no different than the average teenager .
You might not notice that one of his eyebrows doesn ’ t seem to move or see the faint indentations that run down the right side of his forehead .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ that eight years ago he battled against a rare brain infection that doctors said should have killed him .
Sam ’ s name was the last one to be called out that late July day .
As he got up to receive his diploma , with his family cheering him on from the stands , he was overcome with emotion .
For Sam , graduating high school was a milestone , upon a mountain of many milestones , he knows he was never promised .
It all started with a high fever and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ It was April 2012 .
Sam was 9 years old and in the fourth grade at William Penn Elementary in Bethel Park , the western Pennsylvania town where he grew up .
He had recently developed a new passion in his life - playing ice hockey .
The only thing he really enjoyed about school was gym class , solely because that ’ s when he got to play floor hockey .
One day that April he was feeling so ill that his grandparents picked him up from school and took him to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ strep throat and told to go home , eat plenty of ice cream and rest up .
But his conditioned only worsened in the following days .
His temperature wouldn ’ t stay down and everything he ate and drank kept coming back up .
His family took him to Children ’ s Hospital of Pittsburgh , where doctors concluded that he must be suffering from appendicitis and removed his appendix .
He was discharged soon after but wasn ’ t recovering as well as expected .
Less than a week later he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ wrong : the entire left side of his body was paralyzed .
His parents called 911 , and he was rushed by ambulance back to Children ’ s .
Sam remembers lying in his hospital bed and looking up at his parents , who were both crying and hugging each other .
At just 9 years old , he was confused at what was going on and how nobody knew what was happening with his body .
The doctors placed Sam into an MRI machine , which showed he had suffered a stroke @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he started to have a seizure .
He was rushed into the operating room where he underwent a four-hour-long craniectomy , a procedure in which part of his skull was removed to relieve pressure and to clean out an area of his brain that had become infected .
Jeff and Lindsay Zimmerman were told there was a high probability their son wouldn ’ t even make it through the operation .
“ They kept coming out more than once telling us , ‘ You need to prepare his final arrangements .
He is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” Lindsay said .
The first 48 hours after the operation were very touch-and-go .
His parents were told that he wasn ’ t out of the woods yet and that if he were to survive , he might never walk or talk again .
He would certainly never play ice hockey ever again for the rest of his life .
“ ‘ Don ’ t get your hopes up just because he ’ s awake and he ’ s moving or he might be talking a little bit , ’ ” Lindsay @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not get your hopes up because this can go downhill at any time.
’ ” Sam was in recovery in the ICU for more than two weeks .
For the first few days his eyes wouldn ’ t open because of the swelling .
He stunned everyone when he regained some of his speech and mobility .
One day he was able to go into the bathroom and finally saw the aftermath of what had happened to him .
“ I see my reflection in the mirror , and I have no hair @ @ @ @ @ @ @ my skull .
And my eyes are swollen .
And I was screaming and crying , ‘ I ’ m a monster .
I ’ m ugly , ’ ” Sam recalled .
Hospital staff came rushing into his room at the sound of his cries , thinking he needed urgent medical attention .
“ ( But ) it was just me seeing my reflection for the very first time.
” Sam had been battling a strain of strep called streptococcus milleri , which had developed from a sinus infection .
Instead of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ bacterial infection did the reverse and shot upward , eventually reaching his brain .
The infection caused him to suffer a stroke , which is what eventually led to the seizure he experienced inside the MRI .
A few days after his surgery he started to receive physical therapy .
One of the exercises he had to do involved pulling colorful beads out of a ball of putty .
Another focused on touching his thumbs to his index and middle fingers , five times on each hand .
He still was relearning how @ @ @ @ @ @ @ had to be moved around the hospital in a wheelchair .
Early one morning a resident doctor came into his room and woke up his mother .
The doctor told Lindsay that Sam ’ s prognosis was grim .
She was told that he could still die .
That his rehabilitation might fall apart .
That he would never be cleared to play a contact sport again .
Sam was lying in his bed , pretending to be asleep , but he heard everything .
“ Hearing those words , that ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Sam said .
“ That ’ s when I knew that I ’ m facing life or death .
I either can go , or I can fight .
And I chose the fight .
I never gave up the hope.
” More than anything , Sam just wanted the chance to play hockey again , to be able to hit the ice with all his buddies .
So he began to put in the effort .
He showed so much improvement that his therapist allowed him to periodically go down to a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ At the end of his two weeks in the ICU , he was even scoring goals .
He remained hospitalized for a few more weeks and had to have a Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter , or PICC line , inserted into his arm .
The PICC provided a way for medicine and fluids to enter his body and Sam vividly remembers it as being a very painful procedure that he was fully awake for .
Around a month after being rushed into Children ’ s , Sam was discharged from the hospital .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ white helmet that protected his skull - it almost looked a little like the same helmet he wore on the ice .
Lindsay said that he was frequently ridiculed by people in public for his appearance .
While out at a restaurant one evening , a group of people sitting nearby started laughing at Sam .
“ We ’ ve actually had to go over and confront adults and ask them , ‘ Would you appreciate it if I did this to your child ?
’ ” , Lindsay said .
Sam underwent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to repair the missing part of his skull .
He and his family then embarked on a much delayed trip to Walt Disney World two months later .
During the trip , part of his incision split open and he had to be rushed to an urgent care in Orlando .
He was immediately put on antibiotics before making the long trek back to Children ’ s Hospital in Pittsburgh .
They soon found out that Sam had developed a staph infection .
He now had to go through the whole process a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ skull was removed and a new one was inserted .
He received another painful PICC line in his arm .
The hospital visit was shorter this time around , but it was another unpleasant reminder of his precarious recovery .
On September 9 , 2013 , Sam finally got the good news he was so desperate to hear : more than 16 months after undergoing brain surgery , he received the all-clear to return to playing hockey .
Lindsay was nervous about him returning to the ice but knew just how important it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ parents would frequently ask her how she could even breathe during Sam ’ s games .
“ I said , ‘ Because this is what he wants .
And he ’ s here to do it .
And that ’ s all I can ask for , ’ ” Lindsay recalled telling them .
“ ‘ He ’ s here .
He ’ s able to do it .
He ’ s able to walk and talk and he ’ s independent .
So I ’ m okay with this.
’ ” Sam @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Panthers in Bethel Park .
When he and his family moved to Penn Township in 2018 , he was able to continue his career with the York Devils and most recently , the Central Penn Panthers .
‘ She was there for a reason ’ There have been many people in Sam ’ s life who have left an impression on him .
There ’ s his hockey coach back in Pittsburgh , who made him a team captain and lovingly nicknamed him ‘ The Animal.
’ There ’ s his former coworker @ @ @ @ @ @ @ blue one day told him he had a greater purpose and would go on to inspire others .
Sam still remembers the day well , nearly a decade later .
It was a rainy Saturday evening in late June 2012 .
He had been recovering at home for about a month , but had been temporarily brought back into the hospital due to a complication with his seizure medication .
He was doing well enough that he was allowed to escape the four corners of his room so he and his mother went @ @ @ @ @ @ @ look out the windows .
It was a nice break from staring at machines all day .
A woman , who appeared to work in the maintenance department , was cleaning nearby .
She took notice of the two of them and struck up a conversation .
She asked Sam how he was doing and what he had been going through .
He told her everything , from the beginning of his journey up until when doctors said he would never play hockey again .
The woman , named Paula , listened intently @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Years ago , she said , her son had been badly stabbed .
He survived but was told he would never play football again - but , she said , he had proved everyone wrong and was now in college playing the sport he loved .
Paula told Sam to not let other people tell him what he can and can ’ t do .
She told him that if you know you can do it for yourself , and you believe , you can do it .
She then asked the pair @ @ @ @ @ @ @ which they accepted .
Before turning to leave , she gave them her business card , in case they wanted to keep in touch , and told them they could get more information from the hospital .
Later that night , Sam and Lindsay stopped by the nurses ’ station and showed them the card .
Nobody at the hospital knew who Paula was .
They had never heard of her .
Sam came walking away from the encounter convinced that Paula was an angel sent from heaven .
“ She ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ thoughts , ” Lindsay said .
“ Paula is out there somewhere in Pittsburgh , and we don ’ t know where she is .
But she made an impression on our lives that she ’ ll never ever know.
” This summer , the Hanover Exchange Club named Sam their 2020 Tommy Laudani A.C.E .
Award recipient .
The award , which stands for “ Accepting the Challenge of Excellence ” was named after Laudani , a 2018 Delone Catholic grad who battled for more than two years against a rare and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ round cell tumor .
Tommy died from the disease a few months after graduating from Delone .
Both boys battled against childhood illnesses , fighting for the chance to pursue their passions .
For Tommy , that meant working to make a successful return to the cross country course .
Sam recognized the striking similarities in what they both had endured - and what they both had achieved .
“ He was a fighter , he was a warrior , ” Sam said after reading about his story .
“ I wish I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Along with a plaque commemorating the award , Sam received a scholarship for more than $ 2,600 to put toward his education .
Out of all the pain that has entered into the Zimmerman ’ s lives , positives can be seen everywhere .
“ It was almost like it was meant to happen in order to make me open my eyes like this and think different from others and different perspectives , ” Sam said .
“ Not many people ( in my situation ) can walk or talk or anything like @ @ @ @ @ @ @ got to be appreciative with what you have and who you are.
” That appreciation extends to his parents , family members and friends , who have supported him from the beginning .
Lindsay said it ’ s also made her a more patient and grateful person .
“ It takes a lot to get me mad because as long as I ’ m not getting a phone call telling me that I need to make final arrangements , it ’ s a good day.
” “ I was going to have to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ didn ’ t make it because we had to move out ( to Hanover ) two years ago .
I don ’ t have to go and visit him every year on his birthday and wonder what could have been , because I get to see what is.
” Sam hung up his skates and retired from his hockey career earlier this year .
But as one chapter in his life was coming to a close , another was just beginning .
About a year ago , his older sister , Autumn , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ an inspirational speaker .
He watched it straight through and then played it back two more times .
He knew he found a new calling in his life - to share the hope of his life story with as many people as he could .
He started writing and sharing positive and inspirational messages on his Instagram ( @ the.animal.motivation ) and Snapchat ( sam_zim20 ) accounts .
He has been applying to every speaking opportunity he finds and had been accepted to speak at a TED event this past spring before it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ currently in the process of writing a book , which will detail his life experiences while incorporating his positive messages throughout .
In late August , Sam reached another milestone in his life when he started his first semester at Thaddeus Stevens College of Technology .
He ’ s studying mechatronics and has already been able to share his story with one of his new classmates , who he learned has also undergone their own medical battles .
One of the key messages he emphasizes is to not treat others differently .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for the rest of my life , but it doesn ’ t make me different from who I am as a person , ” Sam said .
“ Other people may have other medical issues , but it still doesn ’ t make them different from you or me.
” One day hopes to be able to return to his alma mater and speak to students , but his biggest goal is to be able to share his inspirational messages with millions .
“ Wake up every morning being happy - your heart @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , you ’ re able to be there , and you ’ re around the people you love .
You have this beautiful gift of life .
”

HANOVER, Pa. (AP) - July 31 was a special day for the students in South Western High School’s class of 2020. The COVID-19 pandemic had derailed their final semester and delayed their graduation ceremony by more than two months. On that Friday evening, they were finally able to celebrate all they had accomplished.
Among those dressed in long black gowns with matching black mortar boards was Sam Zimmerman. He and a few dozen of his classmates processed down from the high school and into the Mustang Corral, walking by the same sign that greets football players on Friday nights:
THE CHALLENGE IS INEVITABLE
DEFEAT IS OPTIONAL
The pandemic had created many new challenges. A sudden transition to remote learning. The cancellation of spring sports. A palpable level of uncertainty, especially for seniors.
But even at just 18 years old, Sam was no stranger to adversity.
At a glance, he appears no different than the average teenager. You might not notice that one of his eyebrows doesn’t seem to move or see the faint indentations that run down the right side of his forehead.
And you certainly wouldn’t know that eight years ago he battled against a rare brain infection that doctors said should have killed him.
Sam’s name was the last one to be called out that late July day.
As he got up to receive his diploma, with his family cheering him on from the stands, he was overcome with emotion.
For Sam, graduating high school was a milestone, upon a mountain of many milestones, he knows he was never promised.
The medical mystery
It all started with a high fever and an intense pounding in his head.
It was April 2012. Sam was 9 years old and in the fourth grade at William Penn Elementary in Bethel Park, the western Pennsylvania town where he grew up. He had recently developed a new passion in his life - playing ice hockey. The only thing he really enjoyed about school was gym class, solely because that’s when he got to play floor hockey.
One day that April he was feeling so ill that his grandparents picked him up from school and took him to the doctor. He was diagnosed with strep throat and told to go home, eat plenty of ice cream and rest up.
But his conditioned only worsened in the following days.
His temperature wouldn’t stay down and everything he ate and drank kept coming back up. His family took him to Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh, where doctors concluded that he must be suffering from appendicitis and removed his appendix.
He was discharged soon after but wasn’t recovering as well as expected. Less than a week later he woke up and immediately knew something was wrong: the entire left side of his body was paralyzed. His parents called 911, and he was rushed by ambulance back to Children’s.
Sam remembers lying in his hospital bed and looking up at his parents, who were both crying and hugging each other. At just 9 years old, he was confused at what was going on and how nobody knew what was happening with his body.
The doctors placed Sam into an MRI machine, which showed he had suffered a stroke. While still in the machine, he started to have a seizure. He was rushed into the operating room where he underwent a four-hour-long craniectomy, a procedure in which part of his skull was removed to relieve pressure and to clean out an area of his brain that had become infected.
Jeff and Lindsay Zimmerman were told there was a high probability their son wouldn’t even make it through the operation.
“They kept coming out more than once telling us, ‘You need to prepare his final arrangements. He is not going to make it,’” Lindsay said.
The first 48 hours after the operation were very touch-and-go. His parents were told that he wasn’t out of the woods yet and that if he were to survive, he might never walk or talk again. He would certainly never play ice hockey ever again for the rest of his life.
“‘Don’t get your hopes up just because he’s awake and he’s moving or he might be talking a little bit,’” Lindsay recalled them saying.
“‘Do not get your hopes up because this can go downhill at any time.’”
Sam was in recovery in the ICU for more than two weeks. For the first few days his eyes wouldn’t open because of the swelling. He stunned everyone when he regained some of his speech and mobility. One day he was able to go into the bathroom and finally saw the aftermath of what had happened to him.
“I see my reflection in the mirror, and I have no hair. I’m missing part of my skull. And my eyes are swollen. And I was screaming and crying, ‘I’m a monster. I’m ugly,’” Sam recalled.
Hospital staff came rushing into his room at the sound of his cries, thinking he needed urgent medical attention.
“(But) it was just me seeing my reflection for the very first time.”
Igniting the fire
Sam had been battling a strain of strep called streptococcus milleri, which had developed from a sinus infection. Instead of traveling down through his throat, the bacterial infection did the reverse and shot upward, eventually reaching his brain. The infection caused him to suffer a stroke, which is what eventually led to the seizure he experienced inside the MRI.
A few days after his surgery he started to receive physical therapy. One of the exercises he had to do involved pulling colorful beads out of a ball of putty. Another focused on touching his thumbs to his index and middle fingers, five times on each hand. He still was relearning how to walk on his own and frequently had to be moved around the hospital in a wheelchair.
Early one morning a resident doctor came into his room and woke up his mother. The doctor told Lindsay that Sam’s prognosis was grim. She was told that he could still die. That his rehabilitation might fall apart. That he would never be cleared to play a contact sport again.
Sam was lying in his bed, pretending to be asleep, but he heard everything.
“Hearing those words, that’s what ignited the fire inside,” Sam said.
“That’s when I knew that I’m facing life or death. I either can go, or I can fight. And I chose the fight. I never gave up the hope.”
More than anything, Sam just wanted the chance to play hockey again, to be able to hit the ice with all his buddies.
So he began to put in the effort.
He showed so much improvement that his therapist allowed him to periodically go down to a gym area and play floor hockey. At the end of his two weeks in the ICU, he was even scoring goals.
He remained hospitalized for a few more weeks and had to have a Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter, or PICC line, inserted into his arm. The PICC provided a way for medicine and fluids to enter his body and Sam vividly remembers it as being a very painful procedure that he was fully awake for.
Around a month after being rushed into Children’s, Sam was discharged from the hospital. He had been given a heavily padded white helmet that protected his skull - it almost looked a little like the same helmet he wore on the ice.
Lindsay said that he was frequently ridiculed by people in public for his appearance. While out at a restaurant one evening, a group of people sitting nearby started laughing at Sam.
“We’ve actually had to go over and confront adults and ask them, ‘Would you appreciate it if I did this to your child?’”, Lindsay said.
Sam underwent a cranioplasty in July of that year to repair the missing part of his skull. He and his family then embarked on a much delayed trip to Walt Disney World two months later. During the trip, part of his incision split open and he had to be rushed to an urgent care in Orlando. He was immediately put on antibiotics before making the long trek back to Children’s Hospital in Pittsburgh.
They soon found out that Sam had developed a staph infection.
He now had to go through the whole process a second time. The prosthetic in his skull was removed and a new one was inserted. He received another painful PICC line in his arm. The hospital visit was shorter this time around, but it was another unpleasant reminder of his precarious recovery.
(asterisk)(asterisk)(asterisk)
On September 9, 2013, Sam finally got the good news he was so desperate to hear: more than 16 months after undergoing brain surgery, he received the all-clear to return to playing hockey.
Lindsay was nervous about him returning to the ice but knew just how important it was to her son. Other hockey parents would frequently ask her how she could even breathe during Sam’s games.
“I said, ‘Because this is what he wants. And he’s here to do it. And that’s all I can ask for,’” Lindsay recalled telling them.
“‘He’s here. He’s able to do it. He’s able to walk and talk and he’s independent. So I’m okay with this.’”
Sam went on to play for the Shaha Panthers in Bethel Park. When he and his family moved to Penn Township in 2018, he was able to continue his career with the York Devils and most recently, the Central Penn Panthers.
‘She was there for a reason’
There have been many people in Sam’s life who have left an impression on him. There’s his hockey coach back in Pittsburgh, who made him a team captain and lovingly nicknamed him ‘The Animal.’ There’s his former coworker at Utz, who out of the blue one day told him he had a greater purpose and would go on to inspire others.
And then there’s Paula.
Sam still remembers the day well, nearly a decade later. It was a rainy Saturday evening in late June 2012. He had been recovering at home for about a month, but had been temporarily brought back into the hospital due to a complication with his seizure medication. He was doing well enough that he was allowed to escape the four corners of his room so he and his mother went on a walk through his hall to look out the windows. It was a nice break from staring at machines all day.
A woman, who appeared to work in the maintenance department, was cleaning nearby. She took notice of the two of them and struck up a conversation. She asked Sam how he was doing and what he had been going through. He told her everything, from the beginning of his journey up until when doctors said he would never play hockey again.
The woman, named Paula, listened intently and then shared her own story. Years ago, she said, her son had been badly stabbed. He survived but was told he would never play football again - but, she said, he had proved everyone wrong and was now in college playing the sport he loved.
Paula told Sam to not let other people tell him what he can and can’t do. She told him that if you know you can do it for yourself, and you believe, you can do it. She then asked the pair if she could pray with them, which they accepted.
Before turning to leave, she gave them her business card, in case they wanted to keep in touch, and told them they could get more information from the hospital. Later that night, Sam and Lindsay stopped by the nurses’ station and showed them the card. Nobody at the hospital knew who Paula was. They had never heard of her.
Sam came walking away from the encounter convinced that Paula was an angel sent from heaven.
“She’s never ever left either one of our thoughts,” Lindsay said.
“Paula is out there somewhere in Pittsburgh, and we don’t know where she is. But she made an impression on our lives that she’ll never ever know.”
‘I’m still here’
This summer, the Hanover Exchange Club named Sam their 2020 Tommy Laudani A.C.E. Award recipient. The award, which stands for “Accepting the Challenge of Excellence” was named after Laudani, a 2018 Delone Catholic grad who battled for more than two years against a rare and aggressive form of cancer called desmoplastic small round cell tumor.
Tommy died from the disease a few months after graduating from Delone.
The honor isn’t lost on Sam.
Both boys battled against childhood illnesses, fighting for the chance to pursue their passions. For Tommy, that meant working to make a successful return to the cross country course. Sam recognized the striking similarities in what they both had endured - and what they both had achieved.
“He was a fighter, he was a warrior,” Sam said after reading about his story.
“I wish I could have met him in person.”
Along with a plaque commemorating the award, Sam received a scholarship for more than $2,600 to put toward his education.
Out of all the pain that has entered into the Zimmerman’s lives, positives can be seen everywhere.
“It was almost like it was meant to happen in order to make me open my eyes like this and think different from others and different perspectives,” Sam said.
“Not many people (in my situation) can walk or talk or anything like that. That’s why you got to be appreciative with what you have and who you are.”
That appreciation extends to his parents, family members and friends, who have supported him from the beginning.
Lindsay said it’s also made her a more patient and grateful person.
“It takes a lot to get me mad because as long as I’m not getting a phone call telling me that I need to make final arrangements, it’s a good day.”
“I was going to have to leave him back in Pittsburgh if he didn’t make it because we had to move out (to Hanover) two years ago. I don’t have to go and visit him every year on his birthday and wonder what could have been, because I get to see what is.”
A plan for the future
Sam hung up his skates and retired from his hockey career earlier this year. But as one chapter in his life was coming to a close, another was just beginning.
About a year ago, his older sister, Autumn, sent him a 40 minute-long video of an inspirational speaker. He watched it straight through and then played it back two more times.
He knew he found a new calling in his life - to share the hope of his life story with as many people as he could.
He started writing and sharing positive and inspirational messages on his Instagram (@the.animal.motivation) and Snapchat (sam_zim20) accounts. He has been applying to every speaking opportunity he finds and had been accepted to speak at a TED event this past spring before it was canceled. He’s also currently in the process of writing a book, which will detail his life experiences while incorporating his positive messages throughout.
In late August, Sam reached another milestone in his life when he started his first semester at Thaddeus Stevens College of Technology. He’s studying mechatronics and has already been able to share his story with one of his new classmates, who he learned has also undergone their own medical battles.
One of the key messages he emphasizes is to not treat others differently.
“I have a dent in my head for the rest of my life, but it doesn’t make me different from who I am as a person,” Sam said.
“Other people may have other medical issues, but it still doesn’t make them different from you or me.”
One day hopes to be able to return to his alma mater and speak to students, but his biggest goal is to be able to share his inspirational messages with millions.
“Wake up every morning being happy - your heart is beating, your brain is functioning, you’re able to be there, and you’re around the people you love. You have this beautiful gift of life.”
___
Online:
https://bit.ly/33WbMn6
___
Information from: The Evening Sun, http://www.eveningsun.com


washingtontimes--2020-10-17--150 years: The Oyster House celebrates its sesquicentennial

PITTSBURGH ( AP ) - It was Oct. 12 , 1870 , and the morning edition of the Pittsburgh Daily Post ’ s front page carried news of the re-election of city-born Civil War general James Negley to Congress , dispatches from the Franco-Prussian War and ads for dry goods from the Joseph Horne Co .
But there was nary a mention or announcement of the opening that day of a new Downtown restaurant and saloon where the oysters were a penny and draft beers a dime .
The place , now known as the Original Oyster House , celebrated @ @ @ @ @ @ @ up “ fish sandwiches so good , they would ’ ve landlocked Ahab ” and “ whisky with a buttermilk chaser ” for “ workingmen hunched over the scarred , mahogany bar , ” as luminary Pittsburgh Press columnist Phil Musick described in a 1983 column , it ’ s been a respite for Pittsburgh since its late 19th-century growth into the steel capital of the world .
It ’ s also been a survivor , having endured the 1918 Spanish flu pandemic ; the Prohibition era ; the Great Depression ; a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ bigger one in 1952 that injured 25 firemen ; the demise of the local steel industry and the Pittsburgh diaspora ; the Great Recession ; and now , in its sesquicentennial , the COVID-19 pandemic .
“ We have managed to stay and witness all that because the Oyster House is unapologetically itself , ” owner Jen Grippo said .
“ We are who we are .
We welcome everybody .
We do a few good things really , really well , and we ’ ve stayed consistent.
” The Original Oyster House @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and buttermilk ) in a veritably unchanged setting of neon lights , well-worn subway tile walls and hexagonal tile floors that ’ s become like a working museum with the passage of time , where a massive yellowed poster of Rocky Marciano keeps watch behind the bar .
According to a 2010 Pittsburgh Magazine article by Rick Sebak , “ Most historians around here acknowledge that the Original Oyster House is the oldest extant restaurant in our city .
It opened in 1870 on a nearby corner of Fifth Avenue .
Then , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 1871 , a spot that previously was the home of the Bear Tavern , which opened in 1827.
” Which means that if Pittsburghers then were anything like they are now , it was probably referred to as “ that place where the Bear Tavern used to be ” for a few decades - until Louis Americus took it over in 1916 and turned it into what is the “ modern ” incarnation of the business .
By all accounts , Americus was a character : a practical joker nicknamed “ Silver Dollar @ @ @ @ @ @ @ America pageant in Atlantic City , N.J. - his vintage panoramic photos of the contestants still line the walls - and who employed a half-dozen cats to roam the building and keep it free from mice .
Americus died in 1970 at age 88 , and the business was sold to Mt .
Lebanon attorney Louis Grippo , who , as family legend has it , tried to skip on a check there as a kid and was kicked out and banned by Americus .
Mr. Grippo vowed to one day own the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that .
Respecting the history and recognizing its charm , he guided it into the modern era by changing next to nothing of the interior and keeping recipes developed by Americus ’ wife .
President Jimmy Carter had one of the massive sandwiches - “ too much fish for one man , ” he allegedly told Mr. Grippo - as did Secretary of State John Kerry and actors Christian Bale and Willem Dafoe among scores of other major and minor celebrities , ballplayers and boxers .
Ms. Grippo has fond memories of “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ young girl .
“ I would go around asking everyone how their ‘ chicken ’ was , even though we didn ’ t serve it , because I didn ’ t like fish , ” she said , with her parents encouraging customers to humor her .
“ I remember coming Downtown and spending time with my dad , and if I was behaving well , I ’ d get to go to Candy-Rama or I ’ d go over to Murphy ’ s and play the claw machine .
Or if my @ @ @ @ @ @ @ d take me to the Tic Toc for a grilled cheese.
” All of those places - institutions in their heyday - are gone now , but the Oyster House remains .
“ Our customer base is loyal to a fault , ” she said When she and her older half-siblings turned 16 , they were given a choice : get an after-school job somewhere or work in the family business .
She chose the latter .
“ I thought it would be easy .
It was not.
” Ms. Grippo attended Duquesne @ @ @ @ @ @ @ days a week during college in the kitchen , on the floor and behind the bar .
Her plan was to go into the corporate world , but an interaction with a customer changed that in an instant .
She was waiting on a woman who said , “ I just want to thank you .
My father recently passed away , and I haven ’ t been back to Pittsburgh in years .
He used to bring me and my siblings here all the time , and I couldn ’ t believe @ @ @ @ @ @ @ changed.
” “ And then she grabbed my arm and said , ‘ Keep it going , ’ ” Ms. Grippo said , choking up at the memory .
“ That was it .
I was committed to this business .
This is more than just a neighborhood bar .
This place has a lot of meaning for a lot of families and the city of Pittsburgh and really nationwide at this point.
” Her father died in May 2017 at age 86 .
Ms. Grippo is only 30 .
“ I was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ I was 26 years old when my father passed , and I inherited the oldest bar and restaurant in Pittsburgh .
My father being at the helm for years were huge shoes to fill .
I talked to the customers one-on-one , and I said , ‘ Show me a little bit of grace as I figure this out ; I ’ m gon na make mistakes , ’ but they supported us all the way.
” That ’ s carried through 2020 and the COVID-19 pandemic , which has been brutal @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s been OK. We ’ re doing all right .
We ’ re very lucky to have the customer base we do , because they have been just so supportive of us .
Even if it ’ s not necessarily coming in and ordering food , they will check in and ask how we ’ re doing .
“ Honestly , it ’ s one of those things that ’ s taught me about myself and this business and how resilient the business can be and the staff can be .
It @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Our staff is very committed , and I ’ m very lucky from that perspective.
” Her ambition is to keep the place going with as little change for as long as possible .
Given her age , a bicentennial celebration in 2070 isn ’ t out of the question .
“ I hope I ’ m around that long .
… I would love to .
This restaurant is what makes me tick , as it did the rest of my family .
It ’ s been an honor to say @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and that I get to serve the community the way that my dad did for almost 50 years , and I love that .
“ My dad always said , ‘ You be very grateful for this town and for this business because it has allowed you to live the life you ’ ve led .
And I ’ ve never forgotten that .
”

PITTSBURGH (AP) - It was Oct. 12, 1870, and the morning edition of the Pittsburgh Daily Post’s front page carried news of the re-election of city-born Civil War general James Negley to Congress, dispatches from the Franco-Prussian War and ads for dry goods from the Joseph Horne Co. But there was nary a mention or announcement of the opening that day of a new Downtown restaurant and saloon where the oysters were a penny and draft beers a dime.
The place, now known as the Original Oyster House, celebrated its 150th anniversary this month.
Serving up “fish sandwiches so good, they would’ve landlocked Ahab” and “whisky with a buttermilk chaser” for “workingmen hunched over the scarred, mahogany bar,” as luminary Pittsburgh Press columnist Phil Musick described in a 1983 column, it’s been a respite for Pittsburgh since its late 19th-century growth into the steel capital of the world.
It’s also been a survivor, having endured the 1918 Spanish flu pandemic; the Prohibition era; the Great Depression; a large fire in 1945; an even bigger one in 1952 that injured 25 firemen; the demise of the local steel industry and the Pittsburgh diaspora; the Great Recession; and now, in its sesquicentennial, the COVID-19 pandemic.
“We have managed to stay and witness all that because the Oyster House is unapologetically itself,” owner Jen Grippo said. “We are who we are. We welcome everybody. We do a few good things really, really well, and we’ve stayed consistent.”
The Original Oyster House serves those same sandwiches (and booze and buttermilk) in a veritably unchanged setting of neon lights, well-worn subway tile walls and hexagonal tile floors that’s become like a working museum with the passage of time, where a massive yellowed poster of Rocky Marciano keeps watch behind the bar.
According to a 2010 Pittsburgh Magazine article by Rick Sebak, “Most historians around here acknowledge that the Original Oyster House is the oldest extant restaurant in our city. It opened in 1870 on a nearby corner of Fifth Avenue. Then, it moved into its current space in 1871, a spot that previously was the home of the Bear Tavern, which opened in 1827.”
Which means that if Pittsburghers then were anything like they are now, it was probably referred to as “that place where the Bear Tavern used to be” for a few decades - until Louis Americus took it over in 1916 and turned it into what is the “modern” incarnation of the business.
By all accounts, Americus was a character: a practical joker nicknamed “Silver Dollar Louie” who annually attended the Miss America pageant in Atlantic City, N.J. - his vintage panoramic photos of the contestants still line the walls - and who employed a half-dozen cats to roam the building and keep it free from mice.
Americus died in 1970 at age 88, and the business was sold to Mt. Lebanon attorney Louis Grippo, who, as family legend has it, tried to skip on a check there as a kid and was kicked out and banned by Americus. Mr. Grippo vowed to one day own the place, and he made good on that.
Respecting the history and recognizing its charm, he guided it into the modern era by changing next to nothing of the interior and keeping recipes developed by Americus’ wife.
President Jimmy Carter had one of the massive sandwiches - “too much fish for one man,” he allegedly told Mr. Grippo - as did Secretary of State John Kerry and actors Christian Bale and Willem Dafoe among scores of other major and minor celebrities, ballplayers and boxers.
Ms. Grippo has fond memories of “working” at the restaurant as a young girl.
“I would go around asking everyone how their ‘chicken’ was, even though we didn’t serve it, because I didn’t like fish,” she said, with her parents encouraging customers to humor her.
“I remember coming Downtown and spending time with my dad, and if I was behaving well, I’d get to go to Candy-Rama or I’d go over to Murphy’s and play the claw machine. Or if my dad had a minute, he’d take me to the Tic Toc for a grilled cheese.”
All of those places - institutions in their heyday - are gone now, but the Oyster House remains.
“Our customer base is loyal to a fault,” she said
When she and her older half-siblings turned 16, they were given a choice: get an after-school job somewhere or work in the family business. She chose the latter.
“I thought it would be easy. It was not.”
‘Keep it going’
Ms. Grippo attended Duquesne University but worked in the restaurant three days a week during college in the kitchen, on the floor and behind the bar.
Her plan was to go into the corporate world, but an interaction with a customer changed that in an instant.
She was waiting on a woman who said, “I just want to thank you. My father recently passed away, and I haven’t been back to Pittsburgh in years. He used to bring me and my siblings here all the time, and I couldn’t believe you were still here and nothing has changed.”
“And then she grabbed my arm and said, ‘Keep it going,’ ” Ms. Grippo said, choking up at the memory.
“That was it. I was committed to this business. This is more than just a neighborhood bar. This place has a lot of meaning for a lot of families and the city of Pittsburgh and really nationwide at this point.”
Her father died in May 2017 at age 86. Ms. Grippo is only 30.
“I was a surprise,” she said.
“I was 26 years old when my father passed, and I inherited the oldest bar and restaurant in Pittsburgh. My father being at the helm for years were huge shoes to fill. I talked to the customers one-on-one, and I said, ‘Show me a little bit of grace as I figure this out; I’m gonna make mistakes,’ but they supported us all the way.”
That’s carried through 2020 and the COVID-19 pandemic, which has been brutal to bars and restaurants.
“It’s been OK. We’re doing all right. We’re very lucky to have the customer base we do, because they have been just so supportive of us. Even if it’s not necessarily coming in and ordering food, they will check in and ask how we’re doing.
“Honestly, it’s one of those things that’s taught me about myself and this business and how resilient the business can be and the staff can be. It’s really beautiful to see that. Our staff is very committed, and I’m very lucky from that perspective.”
Her ambition is to keep the place going with as little change for as long as possible. Given her age, a bicentennial celebration in 2070 isn’t out of the question.
“I hope I’m around that long. … I would love to. This restaurant is what makes me tick, as it did the rest of my family. It’s been an honor to say I’m running a Pittsburgh institution and that I get to serve the community the way that my dad did for almost 50 years, and I love that.
“My dad always said, ‘You be very grateful for this town and for this business because it has allowed you to live the life you’ve led. And I’ve never forgotten that.”
___
Online:
https://bit.ly/2GTeCR8
___
Information from: Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, http://www.post-gazette.com


washingtontimes--2020-10-17--Black assistant DA sees purpose in helping youth

LANCASTER , Pa. ( AP ) - A photo of Jackie Robinson hangs on Assistant District Attorney Lance Greene ’ s office wall on the fifth floor of 50 N. Duke St. in Lancaster .
Robinson is sliding into home plate , his right leg leading the way , angling to avoid the tag .
His arms are outstretched for balance , and he looks confident and determined .
The iconic image of Robinson , the barrier-breaking Brooklyn Dodger and pioneer for equality on and off the baseball field , resonates with Greene - a lifelong New York Mets fan @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ I didn ’ t know when I got into this job that I was in a position to be like Jackie Robinson , ” Greene , 32 , says .
Greene is likely one of the first Black assistant district attorney in Lancaster County , according to interviews with colleagues and newspaper records .
William C. Haynes was named the first Black assistant district attorney in 1980 .
But Greene ’ s colleagues say they don ’ t remember another Black person holding the position until he was hired , likely making @ @ @ @ @ @ @ started in the district attorney ’ s office in August 2017 , was promoted to chief of the juvenile division in May 2019 .
The journey hasn ’ t always been easy .
“ When I first started , for the first six months , I would show up to a preliminary hearing and the first question would be ‘ Where ’ s your attorney ?
’ ” Greene says .
“ Why automatically assume I ’ m not the assistant district attorney ?
That ’ s how I know this is something @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I can tell you that during my 20 years on the bench , I don ’ t recall another person of color.
” According to county data obtained through a Right-to-Know request , 92 % of the Lancaster County district attorney ’ s office identify as white , and a little more than 91 % of the public defender ’ s office identify as white .
Studies on race breakdown at district attorney ’ s offices nationally aren ’ t available , but statistics looking specifically at elected prosecutors illustrate a racial disparity @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Reflective Democracy Campaign , which analyzes the demographics of power in the United States , 95 % of elected prosecutors are white .
That percentage has remained unchanged since 2015 , the previous time Reflective Democracy analyzed that specific demographic .
“ I can tell you that during my 20 years on the bench , I don ’ t recall another person of color , ” says President Judge David Ashworth , who has more than 40 years of local experience as a judge and a former lawyer .
As Greene reviews cases @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with the photo of Robinson - cool , confident and strong - watching over him in his office .
“ I love that picture .
That hit me when I hung that picture up in my office , ” says Greene , of Manheim Township .
“ I ’ m not saying that I deal with the same stuff he dealt with , but when I look at that picture , it kind of reminds me that this is not going to be easy and to try my best to act in a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ prevent someone behind me from coming in.
” As a juvenile prosecutor , Greene has the unique opportunity to change the direction of young people ’ s lives .
The juvenile court can work with people as young as 10 years old all the way to 21 in some cases .
Greene points out that the role of the juvenile prosecutor differs from an adult prosecutor : an adult prosecutor ’ s responsibilities are solely to the victim and the community , Greene says , but a juvenile prosecutor is also asked to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ resolution that going to make them a productive member of society .
“ That ’ s the goal , and that ’ s why I jumped at the opportunity to get into the juvenile division .
I take that to heart , ” Greene says .
“ I try put the kids in the best position to succeed so we don ’ t see them at the adult level.
” Greene says he ’ s been able to see changes in juveniles as they go through the system .
“ We put a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ juvenile , and they have to come back to court every six months for a progress update , ” Greene says .
“ I ’ ve had kids that come in and they were angry at the world , fighting everyone and then they come back a year and half , two years after the process and they look like a totally different person .
Some have thanked me in open court for what I did on their cases a year ago .
It ’ s phenomenal .
That ’ s how I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” Greene also works with kids outside out the courtroom .
Last summer , he enforced a different set of rules as an umpire with the Lancaster County Youth Baseball League .
“ I love it , ” Greene says .
“ I do it just to get out in the community and make sure the kids are learning the game right , and I ’ m hoping to do that again next year.
” Greene also educates young people as an adjunct professor of Juvenile Law and Justice at Elizabethtown College , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in-person this semester .
Dr. Conrad Kanagy , a professor of sociology there , recruited and hired Greene .
“ Lance is able to take our students into the heart of the criminal justice system through relevant case studies and his own personal experiences , ” Kanagy says .
“ I am impressed with his passion for changing what needs to be changed and his willingness to pay the costs for doing so .
As he noted , there are not many African American prosecutors , but he is driven by a passion @ @ @ @ @ @ @ space of the criminal justice system.
” ’ “ I wanted to be a prosecutor since I was 10 years old .
My uncle was a prosecutor in the Philly DA ’ s office , and he took me to one of the historical courtrooms in Philly and put me up on the stand and started questioning me .
And in that moment , I knew I wanted to do this.
” Greene grew up in Brooklyn , New York , and moved with his family to Long Island around the age of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ serious athlete in high school and college , he says he always wanted to work in criminal justice .
“ This is my dream job , ” Greene says .
Greene attended Temple University , where he met his wife , Courtney , who works as a producer at WGAL .
Both Greene and his wife were on the Temple track team .
Greene did the long jump and triple jump ; his wife was a sprinter .
Greene is still an athlete and enjoys riding his bike around Lancaster County .
In @ @ @ @ @ @ @ accompanied his uncle , the district attorney , on a bike trip from Pittsburgh to D.C. “ He challenged me to ride with him , ” Greene says .
“ We rode around 60-70 miles a day , and at night , we would camp.
” After graduating from Suffolk Law School in Boston , Massachusetts , where he was president of the Black Law Student Association , and a stint working as a clerk in Virginia , Greene and his wife relocated to Lancaster County where Courtney , a Manheim Township High @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I didn ’ t realize the extent of farmland of Lancaster County when I first moved here , ” Greene says .
“ My father-in-law joked with me when we ’ re driving with the windows down .
You get the fresh manure smell .
I was like ‘ What ’ s that smell ?
’ and he ’ s like ‘ That ’ s fresh air , son.
’ ” Paul Mimidis , Greene ’ s father-in-law , arranged a meeting with President Judge Ashworth , who was a Tang Soo Do @ @ @ @ @ @ @ years .
“ When I first met Lance I found him to be a very personable and bright young man , and I thought he had a great deal of potential , ” Ashworth says .
He thought Greene ’ s demeanor was well-suited for a life in criminal justice .
“ The juvenile court is a very unique proceeding , because the entire focus is towards trying to rehabilitate young people so that they don ’ t become adult criminals , ” Ashworth says .
“ I think Lance has the personality @ @ @ @ @ @ @ In the wake of the killings of Breonna Taylor , George Floyd and countless other Black people by police officers , a demand for equal treatment has sparked Black Lives Matter protests and other calls for racial justice .
As a Black man in law enforcement , Greene walks a fine line of wanting to be a part of changing the system while recognizing the importance of police .
He says people sometimes ask him how he can be a part of a system that seems to treat people that look like him @ @ @ @ @ @ @ specifically cops , are feeling that they can ’ t do anything right at this moment , ” Greene says .
“ I think that needs to be acknowledged , but the reason we ’ ve gotten to that point is because of how many times it ’ s happened before .
Police officers around Lancaster County are good people .
But were not just taking about Lancaster County .
“ Look at what happened in Kenosha , Wisconsin .
That ’ s basically a Lancaster County of Wisconsin , ” Greene says @ @ @ @ @ @ @ shot and seriously injured by police officers .
“ We need those good officers to hold those bad officers accountable , and that requires a change within the makeup of all police organization , ” Greene says .
Greene says he thinks that part of the problem is that police departments and law enforcement officers don ’ t always accurately represent the communities they are protecting and serving .
He says he ’ s witnessed defendants become more at ease seeing someone that looks like them across the aisle .
Greene says that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , he ’ s often able to hear defendants whisper to their attorneys .
“ They say ‘ Yo , who ’ s that guy over there ?
That Black dude.
’ And the defense attorney responds , ‘ That ’ s the assistant district attorney , ’ ” Greene says .
“ I make eye contact with them , and I don ’ t say anything , but I can immediately tell in their eyes and their body posture that they know they ’ re going to get a fair shot .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ guy might know where I ’ m coming from , ’ ” Greene says .
“ Now , again , I don ’ t want this to seem like I ’ m trying to keep people out of jail .
My job is to ensure justice is done fairly and appropriately in each particular situation .
But how can you possibly say that you ’ re doing that if you can ’ t even understand where some people are coming from ?
” Greene says he understands people ’ s frustrations with law @ @ @ @ @ @ @ can happen to make the system more accurately represent the population it serves .
“ I ’ m trying to talk to anybody that ’ s willing to hear about the lack of diversity in the justice system , ” Greene says .
“ I think people know it ’ s a problem , but they don ’ t know how to address it .
That ’ s why I ’ m here .
I think it ’ s possible , but I think it ’ s going to be very difficult unless @ @ @ @ @ @ @ needs to happen and simply listen .
It ’ s not going to happen overnight , but you need to have people like me , that are willing to stay in the system and fight.
” Greene says he ’ s also been frustrated with recent current events .
But he ’ s reminded of the reasons he was so eager to work with juveniles : to provide a positive example , and show them that if he can be in a position of authority , then they can , too .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ my own horn .
I ’ m just saying we need people who are willing to be in tough positions and are willing to break the mold and break the pattern , ” Greene says .
“ I think I ’ m causing change just simply from me being here .
We have to make the system seem welcome to everybody and it doesn ’ t seem that way when everyone looks like one race .
”

LANCASTER, Pa. (AP) - A photo of Jackie Robinson hangs on Assistant District Attorney Lance Greene’s office wall on the fifth floor of 50 N. Duke St. in Lancaster.
Robinson is sliding into home plate, his right leg leading the way, angling to avoid the tag. His arms are outstretched for balance, and he looks confident and determined.
The iconic image of Robinson, the barrier-breaking Brooklyn Dodger and pioneer for equality on and off the baseball field, resonates with Greene - a lifelong New York Mets fan - on more than one level.
“I didn’t know when I got into this job that I was in a position to be like Jackie Robinson,” Greene, 32, says.
Greene is likely one of the first Black assistant district attorney in Lancaster County, according to interviews with colleagues and newspaper records. William C. Haynes was named the first Black assistant district attorney in 1980. But Greene’s colleagues say they don’t remember another Black person holding the position until he was hired, likely making him the second.
Greene, who started in the district attorney’s office in August 2017, was promoted to chief of the juvenile division in May 2019. The journey hasn’t always been easy.
“When I first started, for the first six months, I would show up to a preliminary hearing and the first question would be ‘Where’s your attorney?’ ” Greene says. “Why automatically assume I’m not the assistant district attorney? That’s how I know this is something that needs to be addressed.”
“I can tell you that during my 20 years on the bench, I don’t recall another person of color.”
Homogenous field
According to county data obtained through a Right-to-Know request, 92% of the Lancaster County district attorney’s office identify as white, and a little more than 91% of the public defender’s office identify as white.
Studies on race breakdown at district attorney’s offices nationally aren’t available, but statistics looking specifically at elected prosecutors illustrate a racial disparity: According to a report from the Reflective Democracy Campaign, which analyzes the demographics of power in the United States, 95% of elected prosecutors are white. That percentage has remained unchanged since 2015, the previous time Reflective Democracy analyzed that specific demographic.
“I can tell you that during my 20 years on the bench, I don’t recall another person of color,” says President Judge David Ashworth, who has more than 40 years of local experience as a judge and a former lawyer.
As Greene reviews cases and prepares for court, he does with the photo of Robinson - cool, confident and strong - watching over him in his office.
“I love that picture. That hit me when I hung that picture up in my office,” says Greene, of Manheim Township. “I’m not saying that I deal with the same stuff he dealt with, but when I look at that picture, it kind of reminds me that this is not going to be easy and to try my best to act in a way that’s not going to prevent someone behind me from coming in.”
Course correction
As a juvenile prosecutor, Greene has the unique opportunity to change the direction of young people’s lives. The juvenile court can work with people as young as 10 years old all the way to 21 in some cases.
Greene points out that the role of the juvenile prosecutor differs from an adult prosecutor: an adult prosecutor’s responsibilities are solely to the victim and the community, Greene says, but a juvenile prosecutor is also asked to make sure the charged juvenile gets a resolution that going to make them a productive member of society.
“That’s the goal, and that’s why I jumped at the opportunity to get into the juvenile division. I take that to heart,” Greene says. “I try put the kids in the best position to succeed so we don’t see them at the adult level.”
Greene says he’s been able to see changes in juveniles as they go through the system.
“We put a lot of services in place for the juvenile, and they have to come back to court every six months for a progress update,” Greene says. “I’ve had kids that come in and they were angry at the world, fighting everyone and then they come back a year and half, two years after the process and they look like a totally different person. Some have thanked me in open court for what I did on their cases a year ago. It’s phenomenal. That’s how I know I’m making a difference.”
Greene also works with kids outside out the courtroom. Last summer, he enforced a different set of rules as an umpire with the Lancaster County Youth Baseball League.
“I love it,” Greene says. “I do it just to get out in the community and make sure the kids are learning the game right, and I’m hoping to do that again next year.”
Greene also educates young people as an adjunct professor of Juvenile Law and Justice at Elizabethtown College, where he just started teaching virtually and in-person this semester. Dr. Conrad Kanagy, a professor of sociology there, recruited and hired Greene.
“Lance is able to take our students into the heart of the criminal justice system through relevant case studies and his own personal experiences,” Kanagy says. “I am impressed with his passion for changing what needs to be changed and his willingness to pay the costs for doing so. As he noted, there are not many African American prosecutors, but he is driven by a passion to bring justice and fairness to that space of the criminal justice system.”’
“I wanted to be a prosecutor since I was 10 years old. My uncle was a prosecutor in the Philly DA’s office, and he took me to one of the historical courtrooms in Philly and put me up on the stand and started questioning me. And in that moment, I knew I wanted to do this.”
‘Dream job’
Greene grew up in Brooklyn, New York, and moved with his family to Long Island around the age of 12. And though Greene was a serious athlete in high school and college, he says he always wanted to work in criminal justice.
“This is my dream job,” Greene says.
Greene attended Temple University, where he met his wife, Courtney, who works as a producer at WGAL. Both Greene and his wife were on the Temple track team. Greene did the long jump and triple jump; his wife was a sprinter.
Greene is still an athlete and enjoys riding his bike around Lancaster County. In between college and law school, Greene accompanied his uncle, the district attorney, on a bike trip from Pittsburgh to D.C.
“He challenged me to ride with him,” Greene says. “We rode around 60-70 miles a day, and at night, we would camp.”
After graduating from Suffolk Law School in Boston, Massachusetts, where he was president of the Black Law Student Association, and a stint working as a clerk in Virginia, Greene and his wife relocated to Lancaster County where Courtney, a Manheim Township High School graduate, grew up.
“I didn’t realize the extent of farmland of Lancaster County when I first moved here,” Greene says. “My father-in-law joked with me when we’re driving with the windows down. You get the fresh manure smell. I was like ‘What’s that smell?’ and he’s like ‘That’s fresh air, son.’ ”
Paul Mimidis, Greene’s father-in-law, arranged a meeting with President Judge Ashworth, who was a Tang Soo Do student at Mimidis’ Karate for many years.
“When I first met Lance I found him to be a very personable and bright young man, and I thought he had a great deal of potential,” Ashworth says.
He thought Greene’s demeanor was well-suited for a life in criminal justice.
“The juvenile court is a very unique proceeding, because the entire focus is towards trying to rehabilitate young people so that they don’t become adult criminals,” Ashworth says. “I think Lance has the personality and the passion to do that.”
Making a change
In the wake of the killings of Breonna Taylor, George Floyd and countless other Black people by police officers, a demand for equal treatment has sparked Black Lives Matter protests and other calls for racial justice.
As a Black man in law enforcement, Greene walks a fine line of wanting to be a part of changing the system while recognizing the importance of police. He says people sometimes ask him how he can be a part of a system that seems to treat people that look like him unfairly.
“Law enforcement officers, specifically cops, are feeling that they can’t do anything right at this moment,” Greene says. “I think that needs to be acknowledged, but the reason we’ve gotten to that point is because of how many times it’s happened before. Police officers around Lancaster County are good people. But were not just taking about Lancaster County.
“Look at what happened in Kenosha, Wisconsin. That’s basically a Lancaster County of Wisconsin,” Greene says, referencing Jacob Blake, who was shot and seriously injured by police officers. “We need those good officers to hold those bad officers accountable, and that requires a change within the makeup of all police organization,” Greene says.
‘Fair shot’
Greene says he thinks that part of the problem is that police departments and law enforcement officers don’t always accurately represent the communities they are protecting and serving. He says he’s witnessed defendants become more at ease seeing someone that looks like them across the aisle. Greene says that in close confines of the court setting, he’s often able to hear defendants whisper to their attorneys.
“They say ‘Yo, who’s that guy over there? That Black dude.’ And the defense attorney responds, ‘That’s the assistant district attorney,’ ” Greene says. “I make eye contact with them, and I don’t say anything, but I can immediately tell in their eyes and their body posture that they know they’re going to get a fair shot.
“They are like ‘OK this guy might know where I’m coming from,’ ” Greene says. “Now, again, I don’t want this to seem like I’m trying to keep people out of jail. My job is to ensure justice is done fairly and appropriately in each particular situation. But how can you possibly say that you’re doing that if you can’t even understand where some people are coming from?”
Greene says he understands people’s frustrations with law enforcement, and is hopeful that change can happen to make the system more accurately represent the population it serves.
“I’m trying to talk to anybody that’s willing to hear about the lack of diversity in the justice system,” Greene says. “I think people know it’s a problem, but they don’t know how to address it. That’s why I’m here. I think it’s possible, but I think it’s going to be very difficult unless we have people that acknowledge a change needs to happen and simply listen. It’s not going to happen overnight, but you need to have people like me, that are willing to stay in the system and fight.”
Greene says he’s also been frustrated with recent current events. But he’s reminded of the reasons he was so eager to work with juveniles: to provide a positive example, and show them that if he can be in a position of authority, then they can, too.
“I’m not trying to toot my own horn. I’m just saying we need people who are willing to be in tough positions and are willing to break the mold and break the pattern,” Greene says. “I think I’m causing change just simply from me being here. We have to make the system seem welcome to everybody and it doesn’t seem that way when everyone looks like one race.”
___
Online:
https://bit.ly/3jNSXYW
___
Information from: LNP, http://lancasteronline.com


washingtontimes--2020-10-17--UK Space Agency backs medical drone delivery project

LONDON ( AP ) - A medical drone delivery service founded by trainee doctors that aims to transport coronavirus samples , test kits and protective equipment between hospitals has won the backing of Britain ’ s Space Agency .
The start-up project can help free up healthcare staff , avoid courier waiting times and minimize the risk of virus transmission , authorities said Saturday .
Trainee doctors Hammad Jeilani and Christopher Law are trialing “ dronepad ” infrastructure so the miniature aircraft can take off from and land on hospitals , laboratories and warehouses .
They are planning to scale @ @ @ @ @ @ @ nationwide network of secure air corridors to enable the drone delivery service to work safely across National Health Service sites .
The hybrid drones - which have the rotors of a typical drone and the wings of a plane - can carry a maximum of 2 kilograms ( 4.4 pounds ) and fly about 60 miles ( 96 kilometers . )
The drone project is among others set to share 1.3 million pounds ( $ 1.7 million ) of funding from the U.K. Space Agency and the European Space Agency to businesses developing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .

LONDON (AP) - A medical drone delivery service founded by trainee doctors that aims to transport coronavirus samples, test kits and protective equipment between hospitals has won the backing of Britain’s Space Agency.
The start-up project can help free up healthcare staff, avoid courier waiting times and minimize the risk of virus transmission, authorities said Saturday.
Trainee doctors Hammad Jeilani and Christopher Law are trialing “dronepad” infrastructure so the miniature aircraft can take off from and land on hospitals, laboratories and warehouses. They are planning to scale up the trials and set up a nationwide network of secure air corridors to enable the drone delivery service to work safely across National Health Service sites.
The hybrid drones - which have the rotors of a typical drone and the wings of a plane - can carry a maximum of 2 kilograms (4.4 pounds) and fly about 60 miles (96 kilometers.)
The drone project is among others set to share 1.3 million pounds ($1.7 million) of funding from the U.K. Space Agency and the European Space Agency to businesses developing space-based solutions for challenges created by Covid-19.