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Savior vs. Savior
Both men believed they were doing right: Dr. George Tiller was one of the last men in America willing to provide late-term abortions. Scott Roeder was convinced that killing his kind was the duty of the righteous. As Tiller's murder case goes to trial, and after hours of interviews with the accused, Devin Friedman re-creates the fateful day their paths—and their convictions—finally crossed
SCOTT ROEDER WOKE UP IN THE MOTEL ROOM IN WICHITA ON SUNDAY MORNING. It was past nine, and he was still in his pajamas under the bedspread. He had packed a small suitcase and brought his sleep-apnea machine. He never went a night without that. It was part of the reason he'd slept well. Plus, he hadn't felt at all speedy or preoccupied last night, like he sometimes did. If he was nervous, it was only that the thing wouldn't go off as planned. He lazed about in the room for a while, just kind of zoning. It wasn't until nine thirty that he realized: The service at Reformation Lutheran starts at ten! Not ten thirty! He'd been there half a dozen times. He'd been there just last Sunday. But still, for some reason, he had it in his head that it was ten thirty. He could get distracted, and he wasn't always good with details, last names, that kind of thing. Besides, even if he planned everything perfectly, there was no guarantee that today, Sunday, May 31, would be the day. He'd been out to Wichita to kill Dr. George Tiller last Sunday, too, and Dr. Tiller wasn't even there.
The motel he'd picked—probably the Starlight, he couldn't remember the name—was just ten minutes from the church, but he'd still have to hurry. He put on a wrinkled white dress shirt, some dark slacks, and black shoes. He didn't have to check out, because he'd paid in cash for his room the night before. For a long time he was philosophically opposed to having a credit card, because of the vapor trails of data it attached to you, all part of the government/corporate apparatus that bled you dry. And now, since he hadn't paid taxes in seventeen years and never held a job for very long, getting approved for one was difficult, anyway. He packed his toothbrush and jogged out to the parking lot in incredible sunlight, carrying his apnea machine, got in the '93 Ford Taurus his brother had given him a few years back, and pulled out onto the street. It was the nicest day of the year so far. The air was weightless and warm, and the sun had lost the paleness of early spring. He rolled down the window as he drove on the Wichita grid and thought about the fact that he could very well be in jail by tonight.
Scott had thought about killing Dr. Tiller for a long time, probably since 1993, if he had to put a date on it. The woman who'd shot George Tiller in both arms that year was in the prison up in Topeka for a while, and Scott had been to visit her at least twenty-five times. Sometimes the idea of killing him would be more powerful and motivating than others. In 1996 he was pulled over for having "sovereign" license plates he'd installed instead of plates the state issued, and the police found bomb-making materials in his car, which he later told his son were meant for an abortion clinic, though he never said which one. In the past few years he'd come up with a few brainstorms on how to kill Tiller. He had one idea where he wouldn't actually kill him, just cut off his hands with a sword or machete or something, but that was problematic (1). He'd also considered murdering him at his house. He'd driven by the Tillers', but they lived in a gated community, with a high wall. Probably the most involved plan was this scenario where Scott would buy a high-powered sniper's rifle, climb onto the roof of the office at the abandoned car lot across the street from the clinic, and shoot George Tiller as he drove into his parking lot (2). In the end, though, he decided the simplest thing was to do it at Dr. Tiller's church.
It was easy enough for Scott to get down to Wichita without bringing too much attention to himself. He was alone a lot, anyway. Scott was living with Kamran then, one of the guys he'd met at Mike Clayman's Messianic Jewish Bible-study group. Scott told Kamran he was going out to Lawrence to buy some organic goat's milk from a woman who raised goats out there. They tried to eat organic as much as possible. Our food was being turned into poison. It was an instrument of decay like everything else. As Kamran put it, we were living in a culture of death. The ecosystem, our very bodies, the unborn, all of it was being decimated at nauseating rates in what you had to call a holocaust. Everything good was being destroyed. And it was being done _to _us, while we did nothing—while we actually worked toward our own deaths, like draft horses with bits locked into our mouths. The country was turning into some kind of perverse carnival, a place where abortion doctors were heroes, and terrorists were brought to America to sit in court and incite violence against us, (3) and soldiers on a frigging U.S. Army base were banned from having their own weapons so they could stop a killing spree (4). Scott was on the side of the people who wanted to see the truth. Kamran talked about it in terms of The Matrix. They'd decided to take the red pill, to see the horrible reality that lay just under the cosmetic veneer of America. They'd have to give up some comforts, sure, but in return they got the thrill of seeing all the connections, and also what you could call fellowship. There was a network of like-minded folks around Kansas City—Tim Parks, a woman named Tammy, (5) David Lloyd out in Missouri, Mike Clayman, and a guy called Wolfgang, who'd been in a militia and lived in a tent for two weeks at the farmhouse Scott used to share with Tim Parks. They formed a sort of ad hoc community, sharing cars or cell phones if you happened to have one, surrounded by the latticework of society but not of it. Scott could not abide being tangled up in a life that didn't give him the freedom to spend his time addressing these major issues.
The motel was on Kellogg, less than a mile from the little white building, between a Mazda dealership and a chiropractor, that housed Dr. Tiller's clinic. Scott turned left on Woodlawn for two miles and right on East 13th, where Reformation Lutheran (6) sat at the edge of old Wichita, not far from Dr. Tiller's country club. It was one of those angular churches that look like architectural models even after they're built, with roof planes that sweep almost to the ground and walls placed so that light slants in through the stained glass at certain hours. It was about nine fifty when Scott got there, and the parking lot was almost full. He carefully backed the car into a space near the entrance to the church, left the doors unlocked and the window down, and walked inside to find George Tiller.
GQ: "Because the terrorists are using the fact that we don't try Guantánamo prisoners in court as a way to recruit people to kill Americans." Roeder: "Now, that is interesting. I'm glad to get that viewpoint. That makes good sense."_
Tammy, too, is interested in Messianic Judaism, but as clearly as she can remember, she and Scott had met at the Uptown Theater during a group discussion about the September 11 conspiracy or the truth about vaccines. She runs a business out of her home called Angel Organizing, where she'll come to your house and organize it, but she has no clients to speak of. She describes her situation as very, very unemployed. I bought her a crispy-chicken meal and a chocolate shake, but they brought out a strawberry one by mistake, and the man behind the counter apologized.
"I'll take it if you're just going to throw it away," she said, slightly embarrassed.
She wouldn't let me use the tape recorder during the interview. I asked her why, but she didn't say. The whole situation frightened her, and she behaved as if she were being interviewed by the FBI, as she had been earlier this summer.
Her friend said something like, "You know, not everything about Scott is as it seems."
"Be quiet," she said almost under her breath, looking at him over her crispy chicken. "You never even met him." She put on her public face again. "He never even met him."
She said she could hardly believe it when she'd heard what Scott had supposedly done. In fact, she didn't believe it. A lot of people had a hard time believing what Scott had done. He wouldn't even kill insects. When he was living at the farmhouse with Tim Parks, he wouldn't let Tim kill the mice that lived in the house. When I'd talked to Tim on the day Scott admitted to the AP that he'd killed Tiller, Tim still didn't think things were as they appeared. "You should look into the MK-Ultra program," he said to me, speaking about the CIA's secret mind-control program from the '60s.
Tammy said there was a bigger picture to think about.
"There are things occurring," she said. "It's my belief events are taking place that mean we're getting to the last days."
The man in the painter's pants gave a wry smile. "You ever seen V for Vendetta?" he said. He had his hat off now; his black-and-silver hair was cropped close to the scalp.
"Don't say that," Tammy said. "They blew up the Parliament building in that."
The man in the painter's pants raised his eyebrows at me as if to say: Women.
We got back on the end-time discussion.
"Yeshua will come back," she said. "And destroy the new world order. And set up his own government. And we'll be on the winning side of that."_
GEORGE TILLER hadn't been in church last week, because he had taken his grandchildren to Disney World. The people at his clinic found it funny to think of him at Disney World. It's hard to imagine a place where George Tiller could be a regular, unremarkable 67-year-old man (7). He was the most famous person in Wichita. He was the _only _famous person in Wichita. Barry Sanders was from here, but he didn't live here anymore. While Tiller was on vacation, his clinic had gone on functioning just as he'd set it up to do. Three other doctors were rotated in weekly from remote locations. He'd barely missed Dr. Shelley Sella at the Wichita Mid-Continent Airport when he'd flown back into town from Orlando that Saturday, the thirtieth, and she was catching her flight back to Oakland. The visiting doctors slept on the pullout sofa in one of the clinic's waiting rooms. Dr. Tiller had installed a shower for them in the basement; they hardly ever had to leave the premises. The clinic, which looked like it could house an insurance agency or be converted into a Subway franchise, was its own world, sealed off from the rest of Wichita. The storefront windows had been removed and bricked in. The parking lot had been walled and topped with fencing. Floodlights had been installed, security cameras and alarms. George had told his friend only Lloyd's of London would insure it.
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday were what they called clinic days. These were first-trimester abortions, about fifty a week, no complications. If these had been Tiller's only patients, Scott Roeder would never have heard of him. George Tiller would still have run the only abortion clinic in Wichita, but he wouldn't have been identified and publicized as the most terrible face of what the movement called "the abortion industry." It was the clinic's other patients who made George Tiller who he was: conspicuously pregnant women who on this very Sunday were readying themselves for the trip to Wichita from Michigan or Arkansas or England or South America, traveling here because there were only three clinics in the United States that openly provided abortions for women in their third trimester. Of all these clinicians, George Tiller was widely acknowledged as the most skilled. Warren Hearn in Colorado and LeRoy Carhart in Nebraska may have been fine doctors, but people said they were both a little wonky as humans. George Tiller did around 300 of these abortions every year and marketed himself aggressively, and he had a reputation for a kind of saintly bedside manner, for deep patience and the ability to make women feel listened to.
Sunday was a travel day for the late-term patients, and at ten in the morning on the thirty-first, none of them had yet left home. They wouldn't get into Wichita until that night. The office staff had their itineraries and their hotel information. In the beginning, there was hardly a protocol for these cases. Dr. Tiller said he had to work slowly and deliberately, for more than three decades, to refine the techniques and protocols in late-term care. There were different types of cases. There were women whose health was at risk if the pregnancies were to be carried out; they are called maternal-indication patients. And there were women who'd discovered that the fetus was so compromised, malformed, that it could not survive outside the womb without extraordinary medical intervention; these were called fetal-indication patients. For women who were at risk themselves, Kansas law dictated that in order to have an abortion past twenty-one weeks, a major bodily function had to be at risk. Dr. Tiller had been instrumental in Kansas in fighting to make sure a woman's mental health was legally considered a major bodily function. For example, if a physician declared that a woman suffered acutely from depression—that the birth would profoundly debilitate her—she could be cleared for an abortion (8).
On Monday morning, the late-term patients arrived at the clinic. They were scared; some of them were inconsolable. They were shown to a room where they watched a video. Dr. Tiller came on-screen and explained what would be happening to them over the next three or four days. The videos had been translated into Mandarin and French and German. Early on, (9) Dr. Tiller did almost all the procedures, but now he focused almost exclusively on the fetal-indication patients. They were special. Dr. Tiller led them, with Cathy, in a group-therapy session that he'd modeled after Alcoholics Anonymous. Everyone was required to sit in but not to talk if they didn't want to. When did you find out something was wrong with your baby? Were you angry? Did you find out you were pregnant only after you'd started chemo?
Tuesday was the most difficult. The women would leave their hotel rooms knowing that today they were going to kill their fetuses. At the clinic, they would lie on an exam table, Dr. Tiller would inject the fetus with digoxin, and in two to four hours its heart would stop beating. The women felt like monsters. Dr. Tiller told them it wasn't their fault. There was a protocol for talking to them about what they had done. You've saved your baby from a short life of pain. You have made a terribly difficult decision for the sake of this child. He hugged them. A device was inserted to begin opening the cervix. And then they would go back to their hotels and wait. At some point over the next three or four days, they would miscarry. When they went into labor, they'd go back to the clinic. Supplies were there to take footprints of the fetuses. Provisions were made for the parents to take photographs with their fetuses, if that's what they desired. A chaplain was on retainer, and he would come baptize the fetuses and name them if it was requested. Some of the bodies were flown back with the mothers in small caskets and buried in cemeteries. Others were taken to the crematorium.
The fetal-indication patients thought only about their babies. The other women, those who were in such emotional anguish that they thought they would kill themselves if their babies were born—these women wanted nothing to do with the fetuses. These two groups were kept apart. Their states of mind were toxic to each other. It's not hard to see how the separate filaments of morality—honoring the fetus as a human life for some women, honoring the belief of others that there was no life there—were thin and easily tangled. In the end, the ethos was that the fetus was what the mother imagined it to be. The women dreamed their babies into or out of existence, and Dr. Tiller and his staff responded accordingly.
Over time, the entire antiabortion movement coalesced in opposition to him. In 1986, the clinic was bombed. And then, in 1991, Operation Rescue organized the so-called Summer of Mercy. Ten thousand people descended on Wichita for six weeks, chaining themselves to his gate and weeping in the streets. Twenty-seven hundred people were arrested. Two years later, a woman from
Oregon traveled to Wichita and shot Dr. Tiller in both arms. In 2002, a charismatic, telegenic new leader for Operation Rescue named Troy Newman moved himself and his organization to Wichita to finish what they'd started and has lived there ever since, overseeing the strategy from the office he set up for symbolic reasons in a former abortion clinic. They've taken high-resolution pictures of everyone who worked at the clinic. They've followed them to their houses, plastered their neighborhoods with signs and postcards calling them murderers. One night, only a few weeks before the incident at Reformation, someone cut power to the security cameras, then to the outside lights, then drilled holes in the clinic's roof and stopped up the drainspouts just before a rainstorm.
Anyone associated with the clinic has been targeted. Residents from Wesley Medical Center looking to get training and earn extra money used to assist with the procedures, but they'd been pressured to stop. The late-term patients used to stay at the La Quinta Inn, but the hotel was targeted, so now the patients are spread among several hotels, their whereabouts kept secret. Off-duty police officers who used to provide security at the clinic declined to do it any longer. The company that hauled the garbage quit. Suppliers ceased doing business with the clinic. Certain taxi companies won't drop off at that address._ _
Dr. Shelley Sella: "No."
GQ: "So any time until the baby is born, you would perform an abortion if it were legal?"
Dr. Sella: "If some woman came up to me on the street and said, 'Oh, I really don't feel like having this baby—will you get rid of it?' I wouldn't do that. But that would never happen. You have to understand the kind of duress you have to be under to be that pregnant and want to abort."_
George Tiller, too, saw this as a war. He paid his staff what he called combat pay when it was appropriate. He gave a gold watch to anyone loyal enough to work at the clinic for ten years, and a Pontiac to a woman who'd made it to twenty. The day after he was shot in 1993, he came to work in bandages and left a sign outside that said women need abortions, and i'm going to provide them. Dwight Wallace—Dr. Tiller's friend and a fellow recovering alcoholic—gave him his old flak jacket. The Jeep with so-called armor plating and bombproof glass and undercarriage was ordered. He hired a bodyguard. For ten, twenty, thirty years, this is how George Tiller lived.
WHEN SCOTT ROEDER arrived at Reformation Lutheran, he was unable to find George Tiller. Inside, some high school girl was setting up a table with her mother to raise money for the youth group. Another table was laid out with church bulletins, plus doughnuts and coffee for the congregants filing in through the foyer. Scott went to the last pew on the left, one of the places he preferred, and sat in the sanctuary and waited. That's what it's called, the sanctuary. It rankled him. Scott called Reformation Lutheran a so-called church, because to him it couldn't be a church if it allowed George Tiller to take communion (10).
Scott had brought his own Bible with him, and it was sitting on his lap (11). One of the ushers had already taken note of him, sitting quietly in his white shirt buttoned up without a tie like he was Amish or something. In photographs he has a faraway gaze, a kind of windblown look to him. His eyes are small and blue and buttoned deep into the bunting of his face, and his white hair is sparse and looks vulnerable to even the slightest static charge. He'd appeared at Reformation Lutheran several times in the past year. In the fall, Dr. Paul Ryding, a horse veterinarian and longtime parishioner, had seen him in the sanctuary and kept an eye on him. He introduced himself to Scott and, in his friendly but somehow stern Kansan drawl, said, What brings you to Reformation Lutheran? Roeder told him he was traveling the country to get the word out to churches: Don't register with the IRS as a nonprofit, because then the government could control you. That was his cover story, though it was also something he believed. At the end of the service, Ryding followed him out to the parking lot and wrote down his license-plate number. When someone like Roeder appeared at Reformation Lutheran, the congregants knew he was there for Dr. Tiller.
Everyone in the network knew where Tiller lived, where his country club was, the make and model of his armored car. They'd been here to disrupt the service, stood outside with posters of mutilated fetuses for the gentry at Reformation Lutheran to look at while they filed out and drove home in their family cars. George Tiller himself had taken a photograph of Troy Newman in one of his typical dramatic poses, kneeling with a look of suffering on his face, pleading with Dr. Tiller to quit, to repent, working himself up to tears. It was one of the many fronts they fought George Tiller on. Roeder had had enough of all that. He wasn't part of the movement. What those people did was always about the movement. What about the babies? If you call yourself Operation Rescue and Tiller is still here running his murder mill, who are you really saving by kneeling in a beatific pose on the driveway of his church?
At almost ten, Scott looked out into the aisle and saw him. George Tiller had forgotten that he was serving as an usher today and had only just arrived. He was supposed to give Don Arnold a ride to church but had called and told Don he'd have to find his own way. Don had come from Saskatchewan forty years ago to start the first substance-abuse-treatment program in rural Kansas, and he'd guided George through recovery. Don had looked after George and helped him save himself, and now that he was 83 years old and suffering from cancer and congestive heart failure, George was looking after him.
Dr. Tiller's wife, Jeanne, had come to church earlier, because she was in the choir—they were already singing when he walked into the sanctuary and stood for a moment and watched her. He was six feet two, just about the same height as Scott Roeder. He stood there in the aisle in his dark suit, looking the same as he had his whole life: erect, pale, a kind and placid but serious mien, a lot of dark hair that had only barely begun to gray at the sides though he was 67 years old. He had on a pair of western boots he'd had made in Wichita, with bald eagles stitched into the tube and vamp in what he liked to call a patriotic pattern. He was a don't-tread-on-me Republican, and he had an American flag waving at the clinic at all times.
Scott watched him survey the choir for a minute, comfortable there in his church, and then turn and head back out to the foyer. Scott felt no sense of hesitation. He wouldn't even say he felt nervous. He watched the doors close behind Dr. Tiller, and a minute or so later he got up and followed him out.
WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER, George Tiller had been difficult to work with. He could be vain. He wore a floor-length mink coat sometimes. He was never mean, but—he was a fan of Star Trek—he could seem slightly Vulcan, confused by certain human characteristics but also fascinated by them. For a while there was a sign in his office that read golden rule: the one with the gold makes the rules, and he didn't consider how that might seem, a man who made his income by providing abortions. He was demanding and unforgiving of mistakes. It was worse when he was still drinking. He was more temperamental and unreliable. He drove a red Corvette then that he called Igor, and sometimes he would call Cathy at the clinic and say, Igor and I will be a little late. Even after he became sober, in the '80s, for a long time he was still headstrong, authoritarian. He fired his entire office staff once because he'd become obsessed with efficiency systems and they wouldn't consent to having their phone calls recorded. Even at the end, when he was a changed man, he was still very serious about maintaining and respecting a clear chain of command. Staff were never to call him by his first name. Cathy and Joan still referred to him simply as Doctor, even after he'd been murdered.
Over time he underwent some kind of strenuous transformation. He had done work on himself—that is what impressed Dr. Sella above all else. He practiced what the Buddhists would call living with intention—each action an intended action. Be still and see anger coming. Make the decision to be compassionate. One of his phrases was What else can I do to help you? When the phone would ring late at night and he had to go down to the clinic, he'd say to Jeanne, Well, here's another opportunity to help someone (12). He created the space he lived in. _Leave the protesters at the gate, _he said. _Do not allow the enemy to take up camp in your head. _At one point, during the relentless waves of legal action against him, Dr. Sella said, _You have got to be angry. _And Dr. Tiller recited something: Anger is not my friend. Sometimes Cathy could see the effort in his face, and that affected her. To see someone struggling to listen to his better angels, you could identify with that; you could be inspired by that.
PEOPLE CAME AND went in Scott's life. He was with one group and then drifted to another. No single person knew where he was all the time. It wasn't odd for local abortion protesters to see him at a clinic one day and then not see him again for six years. Everyone knew Scott had lots of interests. Messianic Judaism, the IRS and its illegal nature, the Illuminati, protection of the Constitution. Lindsey Roeder, the woman who was married to him for ten years and gave birth to their son, Nick, was maybe the single consistent witness to his life. That Scott wanted to keep seeing Nick helped tie them together. Even though she was pro-choice and an Obama supporter, if you asked her she'd still say she and Scott were soul mates, and that she'd always believed there was a chance Scott would change back to the person she'd met and they'd be together again.
The marriage started falling apart in the '90s. Scott spent too much time sleeping. Lindsey said that if Nick woke up at night, Scott was ruined the next day for work and wouldn't go. They didn't have any money, and Scott spent more and more time alone in the house while Lindsey was out teaching in a Montessori school. He started watching The 700 Club with Pat Robertson. At the end of the show, Pat Robertson would ask you to accept Jesus. And one morning when Pat Robertson asked, Scott got down on the floor and tried to pray, though he wasn't sure he knew how. That was how he was born again. For the first time in a long, long while, he felt some hope, saw some light, and it was easy to move toward that from where he was.
He found the truth in lots of places. There was a period he sent money to a preacher down in Texas who would sell you a "miracle link" cloth that would connect you up with a miracle if you sent it back to him to put on his altar. He was exposed on TV as a fraud by Diane Sawyer. Scott listened to various people on right-wing radio programs, preaching about the New World Order and what not (13). He was interested in joining a church called the Embassy of Heaven, whose adherents severed ties to Worldly Governments and became citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven and therefore paid no tax. Scott wanted to sign the deed to the car over to them. He and Lindsey fought more and more. Lindsey remembers that Scott told her all their problems would be solved if they only stopped paying tas. He wanted Nick to be homeschooled. They separated. In the early '90s, he joined a patriot group out of Missouri founded for the purpose of preserving the sanctity of the most important document in the world, the Constitution, from the likes of Bill Clinton et al.
For a while, when Nick was a teenager and she was having trouble with him, Lindsey would go out to talk to Scott at the house he was sharing with Tim Parks. Even though she thought he was crazy, she also knew how to reach a part of him that wanted to be a father to Nick and a protector to her. The house was squalid. They called it a farmhouse, but it was just at the edge of the suburbs of Kansas City. They heated the place with a wood fire. They raised chickens. She never wanted to touch anything inside—there were clothes and grimy water jugs everywhere; Scott didn't drink tap water because of the fluoride, which after careful research he'd discovered had been designed by corporations and added by municipalities to make the populace more docile.
They found some common ground when they talked about Nick. Scott told her not to worry, that he'd had his rebellious period, too, that it was a phase. But that moment always dissolved. Scott began talking about the tax code and the unborn again, and soon he drifted out to some further orbit, calling only occasionally from phone numbers she didn't recognize.
TWO MONTHS AGO, at the end of March, Scott had been up in Wichita. Dr. Tiller was on trial, and Scott made it to the courthouse as often as he could. He wouldn't say it was the straw that broke the camel's back or that a lightbulb went off or anything, but watching that trial (14) did not help. He felt chills being in the same room as George Tiller, a mass murderer under protection from the state, watching him sitting there with his sterling legal team in their perfect suits. If you had enough money, you could protect yourself from anything. That's how he'd gotten Governor Sebelius in his pocket. There were photographs of George Tiller visiting the governor's mansion. And did you know Tiller had the largest PAC in the state? (15) The gallery was full, mostly with people who'd come to see George Tiller convicted of a crime. Operation Rescue had organized the whole thing. You just called them and they gave you the details. Troy had this special deal where a trooper they were friendly with would save them seats before the gallery filled up.
The trial lasted four days. In the morning and after the lunch recess they brought in bomb-sniffing dogs. Dr. Tiller was escorted in by police through the basement. They wouldn't let you come back in if you left to go to the bathroom. Scott thought: What kind of country is this? This guy gets special treatment because he murders babies? On the afternoon of the fourth day, the jury deliberated a whole twenty-eight minutes, and then an announcement went out that a verdict had been reached. The sheriff's office had intelligence that someone was planning to throw battery acid if the jury found Dr. Tiller not guilty. A cordon of deputies stood shoulder to shoulder facing the gallery when the verdict was read. Not guilty. Afterward, Scott started wondering if George Tiller hadn't somehow gotten to the jury. There was a blizzard coming, the sky was darkening, and snow began to appear in the air. Everyone was eager to clear the court and start for home. The jurors were escorted to their cars._ Unbelievable._
GEORGE TILLER gave no sign that he was ever unsure about the act he was performing. If there was any doubt, it had never been exhibited. And for anyone who felt doubt on his staff, he handed down an intention to live with: Think about the woman. Because they saved people here. That's what George Tiller was saying. They didn't kill people; they saved them. All you had to do was to look at the walls. Framed letters from patients testifying to having been saved. That's how they described what happened to them. Hearing that was addictive. Everyone admitted that—felt a little guilty about getting off on it, but not too. Cathy and Joan used to wonder what they'd do when they retired and didn't get to feel that thing anymore. Even Roeder had heard about the letters, everyone in the network had; it blew their minds and filled their hearts with disappointment. The letters weren't relegated to a single wall. There was room after room of them, thanking and thanking, overwhelming you the first time you walked into the clinic. Answering the tacit question: No, we _save _people here.
WHEN SCOTT GOT UP from his pew and walked into the foyer, he saw George Tiller standing with Gary Hoepner, who was manning the church-bulletin table. Dr. Tiller had his back to him, but Gary looked right at Scott. Gary is 61 years old, retired from Boeing. He looks as if he's never said a mean thing to anyone in his life. It was about ten; the music was winding down. Soon the ushers would move into the sanctuary to help with the service. You going to eat a doughnut? George asked Gary. No, I already ate something at Bagatelle. George said, I like that place. Gary went for a doughnut anyway—what he calls a jelly roll. He looked at Roeder as if he recognized him. He'd seen him last Sunday, too, and he thought, _There's that odd guy from last week who went to the bathroom in the middle of the sermon. _As Scott walked behind a pillar, Gary took a bite of the jelly roll. When Scott emerged from behind the pillar, he had a small gun in his hand, a gray .22-caliber pistol. Gary saw him walk up to George (16).
Roeder: "No. That wasn't important to me."_
For what seemed a long time after the shot, Tiller stood upright, his body suspended as if the bullet had emptied it of weight. Gary looked at him standing there and wondered whether that had been a real gun. Maybe it was a cap gun. Then George fell, and that moment after he'd been shot shrank to nothing. The doctor was on his back, as far as Gary knows, but he would never look at Dr. Tiller's face again. He had the thought: _I can't let that guy get away. _He followed Roeder out the door. Roeder turned around and saw Gary following him. He yelled back at Gary and said, I've got a gun. Stay away from me or I'll shoot you, too (17). Roeder started up the Taurus, but a parishioner named Keith Martin was right in front of the car in his suit and tie, holding a cup of coffee, blocking him in. There was some light traffic moving past on East 13th Street, mostly people coming from or going to different churches, none of them aware of what was happening in the parking lot. Scott leaned out and said, I have a gun. Keith moved, and Scott pulled quickly out. As he was driving past, Keith threw his coffee in the open window, into Scott's lap. That's not even that hot, Scott thought to himself. It's not that bad! (18).
He started east, back toward Kansas City. He turned on the radio. He expected to hear any second that George Tiller had been killed, but there was nothing about it. He just listened to some talk radio. He kept off the I-35, the big highway that could get you to Kansas City in less than three hours. It wasn't just that they'd be staking out the highway; he'd kept to the local roads on the way to Wichita, too. He didn't like to pay the government its road-tax money. The coffee was getting cold and itchy in his lap. He drove east out of Wichita, the landscape giving itself over to the prairie, simplified down to grass and sky. He knew they'd identified him pretty good in the church. There were bound to be fleets of troopers looking for the Taurus. On the other hand, you never know. He was due to drive a shift at the Quicksilver Airport Shuttle service in the morning.
DON ARNOLD HEARD the shot, and his heart sank. He'd been in the military, and he knew what the report of a gun sounded like. He also knew the only person who'd be shot at was his best friend. Paul Ryding heard it, too, and looked at his wife, and she said, Oh no, oh no. Some people thought someone had dropped something. But Dr. Ryding knew better. He was probably the first man into the foyer. He'd actually been the vet for George Tiller's daughter's horse, and he'd seen plenty of nasty scenes. This was simply part of his nature; it was easier to take some action than to watch (19). When he got there, he saw the high school girl who'd been setting up the charity table, standing with her hand over her mouth. He saw George Tiller on the ground, a wound above his right eye and a great deal of blood on the floor. Almost immediately he knew that George Tiller was dead. There was no pulse. There were some agonal breaths, a reflex of a dead body, but nothing else. He got to work anyway. There was so much blood. He was sucking the blood out of George's mouth and nose so that he could try to breathe into his lungs. Bob Livingston was holding George's hand, saying, Don't give up, George. We're here for you. They're coming for you. Don't give up, George. Behind him, Dr. Ryding heard some screaming, and he knew that Jeanne must have seen her husband there on the floor. Later he heard more screaming, and it was one of George's daughters, who'd arrived in her running clothes. Then the paramedics came, and Dr. Ryding went to the bathroom to clean himself up.
Somehow they got Jeanne into the fellowship hall that flanked the sanctuary. She kept trying to get back out to hold George's hand, but by now the police wouldn't let her. Don was with her; the way he saw things, it was now his job to protect her in whatever way he could. By noon, George Tiller had been driven to the hospital and declared dead.
Scott Roeder drove at exactly the speed limit and signaled all lane changes. He had a radar detector, too, so he'd know when the police were nearby. He stopped the Taurus at a Phillips station. He put gas in the car. There was a snack bar there, so he ordered a mini pizza. When he was finished, he got back into the car. At the Beto Junction, he got on I-35 for a stretch. He was only going to take it to Gardner and get off again. Not long after, he saw two sheriff's deputies in vehicles straddling the median. They saw the Taurus and pulled Scott over to the shoulder just outside Gardner.
In jail, they began questioning him. That's when they said that George Tiller was dead. Scott felt just_ tremendous relief._
THE NEXT MORNING, Mark Gietzen showed up with his Truth Truck, which had an eight-by-fifteen-foot image of an aborted fetus on its side, as if it were any other day. George Tiller's having been murdered didn't have anything to do with his protesting against abortions at this facility. But he saw that the clinic was closed and there were some news cameras making a big deal, and Joan came out and yelled at him about the lack of respect, so he drove home again. Joan and some of the other clinic workers had called all the late-termers and told them not to board their flights. Some of them were directed to other clinics. Some of them they don't know what happened to. The funeral was June 6 at the College Hill United Methodist Church, because they needed someplace bigger than Reformation Lutheran. Jennifer McCoy made a sign that said george tiller—murderer not martyr and brought it to the clinic. Other protesters showed up at the funeral with signs saying Roeder had been sent by God.
Lindsey has been impelled to find what she calls closure. There was a theory circulating that a woman Scott dated had gotten pregnant and had an abortion and that that was what had set Scott off. It was appealing to Lindsey that the event could be reduced to a reason. She tracked her down, but the woman had had the baby after all, and it was not Scott's. Troy Newman is still in his office in the former abortion clinic, working every day. Mark Gietzen sends out his alerts to the database of Kansas Coalition for Life. But he admits to feeling a little lost. They've replaced the patch of carpet at Reformation Lutheran where George Tiller's head lay as Paul Ryding worked on him. Gary Hoepner missed some work and still finds himself crying in bed sometimes. Jeanne attended church again the very next week. Don sits with her now.
The clinic never opened again. Jeanne wanted it shut down. The newspapers said Scott Roeder had accomplished what thirty years of protest never could. Over the next weeks, Joan and the rest of the staff cleaned everything out. George Tiller, and his father before him, had practiced medicine at the Kellogg address for fifty years. When everything was gone, Jeanne and the staff had a ceremony to take down the flag for the last time. The tech guy rented a limo, and all the staff went out one last time to dinner at the Old Chicago pizza place. Jeanne ordered the political-action committee shut down, destroyed all the videotapes George had made on the clinic's procedures, and had the armored Cherokee broken down and sold for scrap to people who didn't know where it came from. Dr. Tiller's files, the ones that Phill Kline was after—the names and cases of the upwards of 10,000 women for whom George Tiller provided abortions—have been sealed in bos and stored 650 feet belowground in an old salt mine in Hutchinson, Kansas, where they keep the masters of The Wizard of Oz, Gone with the Wind, and Star Wars.
There are no more abortion clinics in Wichita, or for 200 miles around. You could say Wichita is more Wichita now than it was when George Tiller was alive, a conservative small city in the middle of Kansas, at least one connecting flight away from either coast. Maybe this is the way people want it. Keep abortion to the places where it makes sense. Divide the country up, and let people move to the parts they like. Leave everyone else in peace.
1. Scott Roeder: "There was the thought about possibly just, as weird as it sounds, cutting his hands off. Ha ha. Just bizarre stuff. Now, here's the thing. The man was very educated in what he did. Even if he had his hands cut off, he could teach others. And so that was a problem."
2. Scott Roeder: "Check this one out. Well, it had to do with a firearm. Have you ever heard of an M50? It's like a super-super-powerful rifle. If you want to get on the Internet and look it up, you'll see how powerful it is. See, his Jeep was bulletproof. But I guarantee you an M50 would go through bulletproof glass. Then you could be more like a sniper. You may not get caught, so to speak."
3. Scott Roeder: "If it's a civilian court, [Khalid Sheikh Mohammed] has all the rights of an American citizen. He can have a platform to spew his jihad philosophy, apparently. And it's like, what motive could they have to do this instead of going to a military tribunal?"
4. Scott Roeder: "Look at this Fort Hood incident. Well, I'll tell you what, it's amazing to me that you have these people who say let's get rid of all the guns. How many criminals do you know who are going to abide by the law? Ha ha. That's why they're criminals! And they don't even allow soldiers to carry firearms in that certain area where they were? What is this? What have we come to? What's wrong?"
5. I met Tammy in Kansas City. She was scared to talk to me, though I'm not sure even she could say why. We met in a Walgreens parking lot. She brought a guy in painter's pants and a knit cap. His cheeks were hollow, and his eyes were blue and sparkly and dead like quartz. I figured him for 50 or thereabouts, and I could tell that he had no idea people would look at him and feel a shiver at the back of their neck. He'd been in town for just a month and met Tammy at a Bible study; they'd been hanging out. He told me later that she'd asked him to come because she was nervous. We spoke through the window of his van, and I said, "Why don't we drive over to that McDonald's and talk there?"
6. George Tiller became a parishioner at Reformation Lutheran because he no longer felt welcome at his old church. There'd been some controversy within the Reformation congregation about whether or not to accept him. Over the years, as he showed up every Sunday, there had been some attrition. But everyone was now pretty galvanized. The ushers identified and dealt with any demonstrators who showed up. The thing I wondered, visiting the church on several occasions, was: What must it be like to be completely radioactive? To magnetize basically every human who comes near you, either attracting or repelling them?
7. It is much easier to know the thoughts and motives of Scott Roeder than those of George Tiller. Over the course of a few months, I ended up talking to Scott Roeder many times in twenty-minute segments over the telephone. Sometimes he wanted to talk only about the unborn, and sometimes he'd consent to talking about that day speciffically. I also spoke with most of his friends, either over the phone or in Kansas City, and there was no message discipline there. Finding someone to animate the interior life of George Tiller was more difficult. Jeanne, his wife, and their four kids kept Dr. Tiller's two lawyers as a cordon between them and all media. Jeanne did give special dispensation for me to speak with Cathy Reavis, who worked at the clinic for thirty-two years, almost from the beginning, and Joan Armentrout, the office manager for the past fourteen years, as well as Don Arnold, George's best friend, who'd helped him recover from alcoholism; Dwight Wallace, a taciturn midwestern lawyer; several witnesses in the church; and others. But George Tiller is dead, and speaking of the dead makes people careful. But also because by now the small community of people around George Tiller knew the first rule was to deny the enemy any source material. Once they got their hands on something, they could do anything they wanted with it. They could isolate a quote like a strand of DNA and then make up a whole new organism around it. George Tiller's friends knew that one of their jobs was to protect him, in death as in life.
_ 8. GQ: "Is there a cutoff for you, as far as when you wouldn't do an abortion?"_
_ 9. Certain parts of George Tiller's biography have become mythical. The story people tell to explain how George Tiller became who he was goes like this: He was a flight surgeon in the U.S. Navy. He liked the Navy. It appealed greatly to his sensibilities—the chain of command, the discipline—and he thought he looked good in uniform. When his enlistment was up, he planned to become a dermatologist. But in 1970, the plane his father was piloting near Yellowstone National Park crashed, killing everyone on board: father, mother, sister, brother-in-law. George came back to Kansas to adopt his sister's child and to eventually take over his father's practice—whereby he discovered that his father had been providing abortions before it had become legal. This disturbed George greatly. It was only through the course of meeting these women and having them tell him that his father had saved their lives that George came to believe that the right to have an abortion was crucial._
10. Church was basically the last public refuge for George Tiller besides the Wichita Country Club, which is hardly public. Aside from the occasional dinner out or movie, which is less dangerous because you don't go at regularly scheduled times, he kept mostly to his clinic and his home. He'd moved to that house from a place in Andover, Kansas, because the Andover place was just way too open; people would congregate around the house with signs and yell at his children from the street. It's hard enough to live under threat of death, but imagine living under threat of death in a solitary, defenseless house on the plains. Physically and politically speaking, he lived exposed, and yet still he continued to advertise his services and go about his business in a way those opposed to him called flaunting and prideful.
11. It may have been a prop to help him blend in, though it seems just as likely that it was a kind of statement of contempt: I'm not praying with any Bible you can get at this church.
_12. He was famous for his expressions. He printed them on buttons and wrote them on stones he gave out at conferences. Attitude Is Everything. Trust the Woman. Nobody Cares How Much You Know Until They Know How Much You Care. And when things got diffcult around the once or at home, he would say: _When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Go to Dairy Queen.
13. Since the incident at Reformation, Lindsey's been on some of her favorite TV programs: Anderson Cooper, Alan Colmes. But she also almost called Bill O'Reilly to tell him that this whole thing wasn't O'Reilly's fault. Scott listened to O'Reilly on the radio, since he didn't have cable, but it was a different body of information that convinced Scott about the justice of murdering George Tiller. There were really two George Tillers: the identity safeguarded by Tiller himself and the one created by the movement, published in leaflets and on Web sites (like dr-tiller.com). Scott quotes from the narrative found there, which includes tales of the purposeful torture of fetuses, the hidden deaths (most gruesomely, that he'd snapped the neck of a live baby when a woman delivered during a late-term procedure), the craven desire of the people there to do as many abortions for as much money as possible, etc.
14. There's more soap-operatic Kansas-politics backstory than is possible to explain here. But at the heart of the matter, at least for a while, were medical les from Tiller's clinic, which attorney general Phill Kline, elected on the promise to shut Tiller down, had subpoenaed.
15. This is true. He poured close to a million dollars over the past seven years into the PAC that he formed, ProKanDo.
16. GQ: "Did you look him in the eye when you shot him? Was that important to you?"
17. He's charged with aggravated assault, but Roeder is adamant that he never threatened Gary or Keith. I don't think he's worried about the extra years on his sentence, but he realizes now that the purity of the crime is compromised if he committed trespasses against people who did not perform abortions.
18. I expected Scott to be full of righteous passion and rage, but he was often an affable, excited interviewee, and affable and excited at odd times. He spoke about the whole episode as if it were something kind of interesting that he saw when he was driving home from work one day. He often sounded more like an observer than a participant.
_19. Paul Ryding: "I'm going to say something, and I don't care if you put it in or you don't put it in. [Scott Roeder] is a guy who's going to respond to anything that he thinks is going to get him some kudos. He's done rationalized this thing out. All it takes is somebody somewhere, some organization, to trip that trigger. But Fox—I'm going to call it Fox Opinion Network—precipitated this. They were totally irresponsible. And particularly O'Reilly. If they're going to demand this kind of commitment from a girl that's pregnant from whatever means, then someone needs to step up to the plate. If they're going to demand these women have this child, then the O'Reillys and all these other nitwits have to step up to the plate and say, 'Okay, I will be financially responsible for this person for the rest of their lives.' Otherwise keep quiet." _
DEVIN FRIEDMAN _is _GQ's senior correspondent.


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Living on campus puts you right in the middle of it all! You are close to meals, classes and all of the great events happening on campus! Check out #HornetLife to find out more about the great things happening on campus!
The Memorial Union has undergone a complete renovation to enhance your experience with us. As a part of this, the dining hall now includes a brick oven, numerous dining stations, and much more! Go to the Dining Services Web Page for more information on hours, mealtimes and cost.
Your Responsibilities
Living on campus may represent the first "contractual" agreement you have ever signed. As a resident on campus, you have a right to an appropriate environment in your housing facilities. You are responsible for contributing positively to that environment. Upon moving into the residence halls, you are responsible for the following:
1. The rules and regulations of the State of Kansas, Emporia State University, and the Residence Halls as stated in your handbook. You are responsible for knowing these rules and adhering to them at all times.
2. Attending your floor meetings. Floor meetings are a big part of your floor community and you are responsible for all information discussed at floor meetings. If you are unable to attend one, please let your Resident Assistant know.
3. Activities that occur within your room. Even if you're not present or involved in the policy violation, you may be held responsible.
4. Your guests and their conduct while present in the halls. Residents may be subject to disciplinary action because of their visitor's behavior.
Your Roommate Agreement
The secret to being successful roommates is being able to talk with each other about issues as they come up. While talking about issues may feel uncomfortable, it's important to keep the lines of communication open. Talking about concerns in advance won't guarantee you'll be compatible roommates, but your chances of getting along and avoiding problems before they start will be greatly increased. If you take the time to get to know each other and help each other, you will be able to make the most of residence hall life. Residential Life uses the roommate agreement as a tool that you can continue to revise and refer to in order to help living together be more harmonious.
Getting to know people takes time. Don't expect to be best friends overnight; or if you are already best friends, remember to be patient with each other. The way to be good roommates is to talk through questions about your living habits and routines, how you will share the space and actions that frustrate you. Be sure to hear what your roommate(s) tell you about their habits. Remember, be honest, patient and open for future discussions. If you're looking for ways to meet new people other than your roommate then get involved in the Emporia State community.
Room Change Process
If you are currently living in the residence halls and are interested in a room change, visit with your RA or Complex Coordinator in order to fill out the required form. We do not permit room changes during the first two weeks and last two weeks of each semester.
You can read about the specific complexes here!


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"Or after reaching the top of the hill you see that while you were busy succeeding on one front, you forgot and overstepped ten other self-imposed boundaries, and your "success" was just another in a rotating set of failures. "
-Captain Stability
Turning All Our Children Into Hooligans and Whores
"Or after reaching the top of the hill you see that while you were busy succeeding on one front, you forgot and overstepped ten other self-imposed boundaries, and your "success" was just another in a rotating set of failures. "
posted by Isaac at 4:32 AM
People have gotten confused and come here instead.
Contact me!
Visit my guestbook or I beat you with a stick.
Bruno - the best comic ever.
Itheo - buy you some art.
Recipies - Arielle's Recipes.
Soar - another recipie archive.
Lint - Their drummer owes me money.
Dar Williams - steadily winning my fandom for seven years now John Tynes - Well written, impressive.
Recomendo! - So much cool stuff...so broke.
Alina Stefanescu - go read a better blog.
Asterion - My brother's site
Archive Page
Blogs I revisit:
Time for your meds - Back up! Yay!
Dani - Who recently graduated, congrats!.
usr/bin/girl - one of my personal favorites.
Natalie Engel's Chest - not a blog, an art project, done in 1994-5(!).
Synaesthasia - well written.
Serfdom Times - I know this guy. Crabwalk - Linked to me, it's only fair.
Coffee and Cigarettes - a title like a Tom Waits song.
The Green Fairy - What is this about? Some kind of Absinthe reference, maybe?
Sotto Voce - go check 'em out
8 Bit Theater - Just funny
1/0 - One of the only Keenspace comics I like.
Snail Dust - I like it, it deserves more publicity.
Stubble - Used to read it.
Waiting for Bob - Bob has apparently not returned in a year or two
Angst Technologies - like PVP, only different
Something Positive - Funny
The Adventures of Bobbin - and you thought Singapore didn't have webcomics.
Cat and Girl - this belongs in one of my dad's political magazines.
The Devil's Panties - reminds me of some people I know.
Keenspot - The central repository for most of the best.
A God's Life - I want a psalm pilot
Acid Reflux - I always suspected this was the true nature of the almighty.
Scary Go Round - From the creator of Bobbins! (also British!)
Nothing To See here - not true
Killroy and Tina - hahahahahahaha!
Pander - slightly adult, not work friendly
Sandwich World - Sandwiches and Demons!
The Call of Whatever - Who though Cthulu could be funny?
Demonology 101 - Incredibly impressive, once weekly.
Strings of Fate - Wow, just wow.
WIGU - I like it.
Return to Sender - The quality of art here is amazing, plot too.
Dave Bort Draw Now - surreality and self-referentialism at its best! Sea of Insanity - Making me eat my words about Keenspace.
Schoolbooks and Brimstone - updated slowly due to advanced (and color) artwork.
Cascadia - Oooh, shiny! Housd - Good comic, bad archive navigation
Hello Cruel World - good art
Girls With Slingshots - and others
Pointless - it's freakin cool.
Music I like:
Dar Williams - steadily winning my fandom for ten years now
The Be Good Tanyas - God, I hope they write some more.
Jill Sobule - The soundtrack to a lot of my life.
Linda Perry - Sadly, not recording her own music any more.
Leah Andreone - I'm still holding out hope for a comeback.
Poe - Starting to write again.
Sarah Harmer - A Katherine discovery.
Bree Sharp - A Cheap and Evil Girl.
Vienna Teng - She needs more exposure.
I am...uh...I'll get back to you on that.


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Actualités archivées
|Fonteyn Nureyev Young Dancers Competition
|The Royal Academy of Dance with the funding and support of the Rudolf Nureyev Foundation and an additional contribution from the Musical Opera and Ballet Trust is launching an exciting new initiative - The Fonteyn Nureyev Young Dancers Competition. The principal aim of The Fonteyn Nureyev Young Dancers Competition is to provide encouragement and performance experience for young dancers in Great Britain and Northern Ireland, between the ages of 10 and 13. The Fonteyn Nureyev Young Dancers Competition will be staged in alternate years starting in December 2005 with five regional heats and the final of the competition is to be staged at Easter in 2006, at a venue to be announced. Dame Antoinette Sibley DBE, President of the Royal Academy of Dance is passionate about the competition and its aims: "Fonteyn and Nureyev became a legendary partnership because they transformed the traditional pas de deux into a dynamic, equal partnership in which every step was infused with fire and passion; and every performance engaged the audience. This competition provides an age group often overlooked, (as they are no longer children but not yet young adults) with a rare opportunity to experience the thrill of performance and a taste of theatre for themselves." The world-renowned choreographer Gillian Lynne CBE has created four variations, two for males and two for females, exclusively for the competition.


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By Benjamin Kellogg Mar 20, 2013 0
Support Systems
A few months ago, I wrote about the Special Education Parent Teacher Student Association (SEPTSA) that started in my school district. The first meetings that I attended went very well, and I learned a lot of useful information. Now, I have been given a chance to speak at the next meeting in April (Autism Awareness Month) regarding how my autism has shaped my life. I was honored to be asked to speak and am happy to have the opportunity to do so. This is also a big responsibility, and I want to make sure I am fully prepared so that I can advocate well for others with autism. I have been asked to address the challenges I have had to face because of my autism and speak about my successes as well. I will cover who and what helped me to cope with and, in some cases, overcome the limitations imposed on me by my autism. There are many aspects of my life which fall into each of these categories, but I am going to focus on what I feel are the most important to me.
One of the biggest areas I want to touch on is how I had to get beyond thinking only of myself, my own thoughts, feelings, and needs and start considering the feelings, needs, and ideas of others. As a young boy, it took time for me to take in and understand that there were others in my environment that warranted consideration. I was not the center of the universe. My parents, extended family, friends, teachers, and therapists all helped me to grasp this concept. Understanding this has helped me to reach out to others and has been a big theme in many of the things I have done including volunteering in a special needs preschool classroom, helping at a Special Olympics fundraiser, and just getting along and holding conversations with other people in general. I also think that as I opened up to others, I gained the ability to better express my thoughts through my improved speaking and writing skills.
Another big theme that I want to include during my presentation is how even though my autism has created some limitations, I have been able to compensate for and rise above many challenges with help from certain people and therapies. My immediate and extended family love me very much and have helped me to understand many things about the world, my condition, and how to excel both with and despite these elements. This is an ongoing process, but one that has helped me in many ways.
When I was younger, my speech teachers played a huge part in helping me to learn how to express myself and reach out to others in appropriate ways. My special education and regular teachers worked with my parents to come up with the best plan of action for my education, behaviors, and social issues. My one-on-one teaching assistant helped me with all these issues as well and more. A listening program set up by my occupational therapist helped diminish loud noises and calmed me. Piano lessons taught me the value of patience and taking my time to complete a task instead of rushing through it and getting poor results. Many of these people became family friends and helped me out in numerous other areas of my life as I grew older, and I still see many of them to this day. My participation in several special needs sports programs has allowed me to meet many different people, and it has also given me an opportunity to play sports. Earning my GED and a college degree were big academic successes for me which I am personally very proud to have accomplished. Writing this column and my own blog along with starting a children's book series are also accomplishments I will discuss with the group.
I had many hurdles to get over as a boy and still have much to learn. I still have fine motor issues that make it difficult for me to do everyday tasks such as tying my own shoes, making my bed, and opening certain packages. I also need to work on my cooking skills. I have, though, learned to do many household chores such as laundry and doing the dishes. Over the years, I know my parents worked very hard to get the proper programming for me in school and they worked with state agencies to get the best benefits for me. I also know there is a stigma about autistic people which often colored many of the struggles that my family and I have faced and still face. Even though I feel some people had certain negative assumptions about me and my abilities, I never gave up. Neither did my parents. I worked hard at everything I did and exceeded many people's expectations. I personally believe there is nothing that I cannot do if I apply myself.
I have a feeling that this speech will be a small summary of my life with autism up to this point in time. I hope I can do it proper justice and adequately answer any questions the members of the group ask me. Groups like SEPTSA serve as an important platform for discussing the problems inherent in serving people with conditions like autism and finding solutions which can work to everyone's benefit. I am very happy to be able to contribute to such a group.


text: On Wed, Dec 17, 2008 at 06:26:58PM +0000, Loren Merritt wrote: > On Wed, 17 Dec 2008, Michael Niedermayer wrote: > > On Wed, Dec 17, 2008 at 05:08:18AM +0000, Loren Merritt wrote: > >> > >> I don't plan to relicense to LGPL. > >> How loud will people complain if I optimize x264's deblocker in a way > >> that's not drop-in compatible, update ffmpeg c to match, and delete the > >> existing LGPL mmx versions? > > > > Would it be possible to support both the existing LGPL variant and your > > proposed one at the same time? (via #ifdef GPL) > > It would not be feasible to ifdef all the calling c code. > In this case the change in behaviour won't be very large, so one could > update the LGPL version so that they're interchangeable again. But the > question was really about, what if I import a function different enough > that I don't volunteer to do that update? You would have to convince the (majority of) ffmpeg developers that this is a good idea. Personally i dont really care if our h264 decoder is LGPL or GPL. And even less so if a optional LGPL asm function is replaced by a better GPL one with changed behavior, which is what was suggested if i did not misunderstand. [...] -- Michael GnuPG fingerprint: 9FF2128B147EF6730BADF133611EC787040B0FAB it is not once nor twice but times without number that the same ideas make their appearance in the world. -- Aristotle -------------- next part -------------- A non-text attachment was scrubbed... Name: not available Type: application/pgp-signature Size: 189 bytes Desc: Digital signature URL: <http://lists.mplayerhq.hu/pipermail/ffmpeg-devel/attachments/20081217/55b15db6/attachment.pgp>


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The Conference I Want To Attend
from the make-me-uncomfortable deptOver the past year or so I've attended a number of the popular geek/techie conferences, and every time I seem to walk away thinking it just wasn't worth going to. I'd had a few discussions with people about why I didn't like these conferences, and have read a few others opinions on the topic. After a discussions here at Techdirt about problems with technology conferences I finally decided to sit down and figure out what exactly would be included in the conference I wanted to attend. I've written up the following article to toss out some of these thoughts. It's still something of a work in progress, so any comments are (of course) welcome. Just click on the "read more" or "comments" link below to read the full piece.The Conference I Want To Attend
by Mike Masnick
In the past couple of weeks there has been plenty of talk about "big idea" conferences like Supernova, O'Reilly's various conferences, and the new Always-On conference. I've gone to similar conferences in the past, but I've found, lately, that I have very little incentive to attend. Each time, before I go, I look down the speaker list, and say to myself "I know what all these people are going to say." If I confront conference organizers about this (and I sometimes do), I'm told that this time will be different.
Each time, however, I find that I'm right - and I don't feel that I come away from these conferences having learned anything useful.
It's gotten to the point where I'm only attending conferences where I'm also speaking - and I do my best (though, I don't always succeed) to make sure what I'm talking about isn't what people already know I'm going to say.
Over the past year, I've had a few discussions with others about this very topic, as well as read others' opinions on the subject, and have no come up with a more detailed description of the conference that I would like to attend.
First, there needs to be some different speakers. Run down the list of A-List bloggers and look at all the conferences they've spoken at. Then look at the topics they've spoken about, and see how much you actually learned. It might be interesting, but it's the same thing they always talk about, and it's almost instantly forgettable once the presentation/panel discussion is over. There are a few (but just a few) exceptions.
Second, I want to see speakers in an uncomfortable position. This isn't just my sadistic side, but since it's usually easy to predict what someone is going to say, we might as well force them to say something different. I want to see people put into different roles to force them to really think through their positions. I want to see someone from the RIAA asked to role play the head of a file-sharing system alongside a "super node" file sharer role playing as a music exec or a musician. I want to see a spammer role playing as a sys admin of a major ISP.
Next, the discussions need to be more interactive. Almost invariably at these conferences, no one remembers what anyone on stage says. If the internet is supposed to be about many-to-many media and the ability for everything to be interactive, why are our conferences still focused on the "broadcast" model of a speaker onstage and audience paying attention? Conferences need to have more breakouts and roundtable discussions. Recent conferences have tried to do this by having group blogs/wikis/chat rooms, but all of these simply take away from what's going on on-stage. It makes the conference into a multi-ring circus, where no one is paying full attention to anything.
This leads into the next issue. The only real value I've found myself gaining from any conference was not at the conference itself, but at lunch. Lunch is when people actually get to meet and talk to each other. While there are other "networking sessions", these tend to let the usual cliques all meet up and pat each other on the back, or repeat arguments they've had going on for the past ten years.
An ideal conference, then, would be more like a day full of these lunches - that forced people to think in different ways. Thus, I'd love to see a conference where people are either randomly (or carefully planned by the organizers) split into small groups, and given a task or a challenge. Let them do some scenario planning that forces them to think creatively. Get people thinking, get them involved with the ideas, get them interacting with others and force them to think outside of their own viewpoint. Maybe challenge them. Have different groups "competing" in some way to get people to really pay attention, and really try to get their minds around very difficult issues.
Put me in a small room with Jeff Bezos from Amazon, Hilary Rosen from the RIAA, Linus Torvalds, and Michael Powell from the FCC, and tell us that we've just invented TiVo, and the broadcast industry is trying to shut us down, and ask us to create a strategic plan for what to do. In another room, I want a similar group of folks (possibly someone from TiVo/Replay or some other such company, an advertising executive, and others) and tell them that they're a broadcaster trying to deal with this new technology, and ask them to come up with a scenario. Give us an hour or two, and then have the groups come together and present their findings. Then, let the rest of the attendees vote on who has the best solution.
I want to go to such a conference, and come out at the end of the day having met 20 to 30 new people, who I have a newfound respect (or distaste) for, while having generated new ideas in my head, and reshaped old, stale beliefs and ideas.
That's a conference I would attend. It would take a lot more effort to organize, but the end result would be a lot more valuable to all participants, if the goal is really to generate and discuss new ideas. It wouldn't be about patting each other on the back or rehashing old arguments. It would be about changing your perspective, making you uncomfortable, getting you involved, and making sure you came out of your shell a little bit.


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Sit Heel Speak
Joined: 30 Mar 2006
Posts: 2595
Location: downwind
Posted: Tue 12 Feb 2008, 05:45
Post subject:
***EDITED by SHS (problem downloading it, see below)***
Last edited by Sit Heel Speak on Tue 19 Feb 2008, 12:16; edited 1 time in total
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Sit Heel Speak
Joined: 30 Mar 2006
Posts: 2595
Location: downwind
Posted: Tue 12 Feb 2008, 10:06
Post subject:
***EDITED by SHS***The problem was here--for some unknown reason my (Windows software) proxy firewall is not passing-on the .iso correctly.***
Last edited by Sit Heel Speak on Tue 19 Feb 2008, 12:15; edited 1 time in total
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Joined: 14 Jul 2007
Posts: 608
Posted: Tue 12 Feb 2008, 18:39
Post subject: bug list
Subject description: bug list
Hello all,
Here is a few bugs i found with Dingo Alpha 6.
- You can start/install .PUP files
- When unpacking files i get the error "wrapper exited with error all the time even though everything is unpacked perfectly.
- After some random bootups the screen is black. Then i need to "ctrl-backspace" and type xwin to start up X
Best regards,
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Joined: 28 Nov 2005
Posts: 2118
Location: Maine, USA
Posted: Tue 12 Feb 2008, 19:25
Post subject:
divisionmd wrote:
When unpacking files i get the error "wrapper exited with error all the time even though everything is unpacked perfectly.
I get this all the time (puppy300-retro frugal) when I save the .pup / .pet outside my pup_save (vfat). If I save inside my pup_save, no error messages.
Maine, USA
Asus eeepc 1005HA PU1X-BK
Frugal install: Slacko
Currently using full install: DebianDog
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Joined: 22 Feb 2007
Posts: 209
Location: San Antonio, TX
Posted: Wed 13 Feb 2008, 15:31
Post subject:
Testing at the San Antonio Public Library. It took three 'scans' and 'choosing' the WIFI berfore the WIFI in this HP zv6000 laptop would stay on. I was then able to auto DHCP to get on line. Am using it now.
3.01, with no 'bug fixes' only takes one 'scan' and one auto DHCP to connect.
Will try at San Antonio Collage later.
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Joined: 08 May 2007
Posts: 48
Posted: Wed 13 Feb 2008, 18:25
Post subject:
I was having the same problem as lobster earlier until I downloaded the 220.127.116.11 version and everything is working better.
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Joined: 22 Feb 2007
Posts: 209
Location: San Antonio, TX
Posted: Wed 13 Feb 2008, 20:10
Post subject:
At San Antonio College. Same problem as 3.02A1, takes several 'scan', 'choose' and auto DHCP on WIFI.
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Sit Heel Speak
Joined: 30 Mar 2006
Posts: 2595
Location: downwind
Posted: Thu 14 Feb 2008, 06:54
Post subject:
Subject description: mksquashfs produces sfs files not mountable in earlier Puppies
I don't know whether this is a "bug" or a "feature," but, I used
mksquashfs ./* trashedsystem.sfs
to make an archive of a trashed filesystem...while running tmxxine 'Vision' from live-CD..'Vision' uses kernel 2.6.24rc8...and...
..the resulting trashedsystem.sfs is not mountable by Puppy 2.17-1.
Nor mountable in Sabayon 1.1 PE, which uses a 2.6.23-something kernel. dmesg | tail did advise that I should update my kernel.
trashedsystem.sfs is mountable in 'Vision' --I presume it would also be mountable in Barry's "stock" 4-alpha-6 which has a 2.6.24 kernel, though haven't tried. I wonder if it is mountable in the earlier 4-alphas.
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Joined: 09 Aug 2007
Posts: 1235
Posted: Fri 15 Feb 2008, 16:37
Post subject:
In /etc/ld.so.conf, there should be no /opt/qt4/lib and /opt/mozilla.org/lib
In /etc/mtab, what is /dev/root ?
Is it better to compile for i386 instead of i686 ?
libXss.so.1 is missing. (needed for new skype beta)
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Joined: 20 May 2006
Posts: 6901
Location: Auckland, New Zealand
Posted: Tue 19 Feb 2008, 06:48
Post subject:
Sorry - I haven't had a chance to read through the thread, so there will likely be some duplication. Some of this is more FYI than expecting anyone to do anything about it.
Dingo is awesome!
- It seems very solid/stable already.
- It looks truly abominable, but is great if I change the JWM, GTK, and icon themes to normal/standard/whatever the most traditional ones are called.
- It seems very much faster than Puppy 2. I am almost tempted to upgrade from my highly customised Grafpup 104
Browsing (esp. sf.net) is particularly fast. I wonder why?
- I think a lot of the recent improvements are very much addressing real useability, especially for non-geeks, which is great.
More Useful observations/experience
- When I shutdown, it does not turn off my PC. Puppy always has before - is this intentional? Should I provide more information?
- It loads the drivers and everything properly for my soundcard (PCI with a fortemedia fm801 chip) properly, but never turns the sound on. I've checked volumes and muting etc. Grafpup 2 is the same. It works in Puppy 2.16. I've tried to find answers, but maybe someone can point me in the right direction.
- the alltray package is broken - try launching most GTK2 applications with it, and you will get a string of error messages. This is a pity, because it is very useful. I have the same problem with the version I compiled on Puppy 1 (when I say you mention it here). I posted a question to the alltray message group, but now I can't find that, and it needs a new maintainer.
- It has become very confusing with JWM having so many configuration files. I changed the focus mode with the jwm config tool, then edited one of the files manually, then changed the focus mode back with the jwm config tool, but it didn't actually do anything and I had to change it back manually. It also seems to ignore some settings, e.g. I added a line to include jwmrc-personal2, as I was lazy and it has some key bindings not in jwmrc-personal, but they won't work for some reason.
Also, what happened to the warning in .jwmrc to edit the other files instead?
Also, I thought somebody was rewriting the jwm configuration manager? Was I right about this? Barry seems to have rewritten just the theme selection or something, and some of the other (basic) functions are broken like they have been for a year or two. Maybe I should have a look at it... seems like something even I might be able to do. Also, I think a font option in the JWM theme selector would be good.
-Can I suggest having something other than MTPaint as the default action when clicking on a JPEG? People are much more likely to be viewing a JPEG than editing it, and MTPaint isn't great for this.
-What happened to Glipper?
-I have some very common network cards that used to have their driver (tulip) autodected by Puppy, but they haven't been for a number of versions now. Do we try to get everything autodetected (i.e. should I post more information), or not?
-Please can we have xev?
-I had a number of problems with Gnumeric, particularly graphs not being drawn. Hopefully these things will have been fixed in 1.8
-Do we have anything that points users to the easiest way to install dictionaries for Abiword? .pet packages even?
-If you open ChmSee (without opening a chm) it freezes or something and you have to kill it.
-Even if I set the user level thing in Xine to "master of the known universe" most of the tabs in the options dialogue say they are not available at this "user experience level". What does this mean?
-If I boot up Puppy and open Xine, it crashes. If I open it again it crashes again. If I open a file with Xine, it works, and continues to work thereafter.
Probably the two things I miss most are not being able to get the graphical view of mounted partition usage from the memory indicator on the taskbar, and the old volume control in the taskbar
This is the xine error message:
# xine
This is xine (X11 gui) - a free video player v0.99.5.
(c) 2000-2007 The xine Team.
AFD changed from -2 to -1
X Error of failed request: BadAlloc (insufficient resources for operation)
Major opcode of failed request: 140 (XVideo)
Minor opcode of failed request: 19 ()
Serial number of failed request: 1846
Current serial number in output stream: 1847
Last edited by disciple on Wed 20 Feb 2008, 01:45; edited 1 time in total
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Joined: 08 May 2005
Posts: 465
Location: Auckland, NZ
Posted: Tue 19 Feb 2008, 06:51
Post subject:
I've got a fundimental boot problem that seems quite odd to me.
I've tried 3.95 and 3.96 with the same face value problem: can't find pup_396.sys at boot, and I'm dropped into the initial ram disk shell.
Ok, first thing I try is mounting the CD, it seems ok, all the files are on it.
Ok, so the next thing I try is iso checksum, which looks ok to me:
sh-3.00# md5sum /dev/hda
e19a7f96ece3df4938a1fb74ee92c08f /dev/hda
sh-3.00# md5sum /mnt/hdd7/puppy-3.96-seamonkey-k2.6.24.iso
e19a7f96ece3df4938a1fb74ee92c08f /mnt/hdd7/puppy-3.96-seamonkey-k2.6.24.iso
sh-3.00# wget ftp://ibiblio.org/pub/linux/distributions/puppylinux/test/puppy-4.00-dingo-alpha6/puppy-3.96-seamonkey-k2.6.24.iso.md5.txt
--23:30:40-- ftp://ibiblio.org/pub/linux/distributions/puppylinux/test/puppy-4.00-dingo-alpha6/puppy-3.96-seamonkey-k2.6.24.iso.md5.txt
=> `puppy-3.96-seamonkey-k2.6.24.iso.md5.txt'
Resolving ibiblio.org... 220.127.116.11
Connecting to ibiblio.org|22.214.171.124|:21... connected.
Logging in as anonymous ... Logged in!
==> SYST ... done. ==> PWD ... done.
==> TYPE I ... done. ==> CWD /pub/linux/distributions/puppylinux/test/puppy-4.00-dingo-alpha6 ... done.
==> PASV ... done. ==> RETR puppy-3.96-seamonkey-k2.6.24.iso.md5.txt ... done.
Length: 67 (unauthoritative)
100%[====================================>] 67 --.--K/s
23:30:44 (1.07 MB/s) - `puppy-3.96-seamonkey-k2.6.24.iso.md5.txt' saved [67]
sh-3.00# cat puppy-3.96-seamonkey-k2.6.24.iso.md5.txt
e19a7f96ece3df4938a1fb74ee92c08f puppy-3.96-seamonkey-k2.6.24.iso
sh-3.00# /usr/lib/mut/bin/guess_fstype /dev/hda
h-3.00# disktype /dev/hda
--- /dev/hda
Block device, size 85.01 MiB (89135104 bytes)
CD-ROM, 1 track, CDDB disk ID 02024401
Track 1: Data track, 85.01 MiB (89135104 bytes)
ISO9660 file system
Volume name "CDROM"
Application "GENISOIMAGE ISO 9660/HFS FILESYSTEM CREATOR (C) 1993 E.YOUNGDALE (C) 1997-2006 J.PEARSON/J.SCHILLING (C) 2006-2007 CDRKIT TEAM"
Data size 85.01 MiB (89135104 bytes, 43523 blocks of 2 KiB)
El Torito boot record, catalog at 26
Bootable non-emulated image, starts at 27, preloads 2 KiB
ISOLINUX boot code
So I have a little look-see inside the initial ram disk shell.
I notice that I can't access any drives via ide drive nodes (e.g. hda) even though those node names are there, but the drives are accessible via the scsi node names, and the /dev/sr0 is my cdrom drive.
But I can't mount it. The mount command just fails no matter what I try.
I notice that the insmod command crashes with a Seg-Fault. and modprobe can't install the module (.ko.gz?) files.
disktype doesn't want to let me in on what my cdrom is, its output looks something like this:
# disktype /dev/sr0
--- /dev/sr0
Block device, size 85.01 MiB (89135104 bytes)
CD-ROM, 1 track, CDDB disk ID 02024401
Track 1: Data track, 85.01 MiB (89135104 bytes)
can't read a sector x
can't read a sector y
but guess_fstype does work.
# guess_fstype /dev/sr0
So does anyone know whats going on? I'm a bit lost.
Has anyone else had this problem happen to them?
My hardware is an ASUS CD/DVD drive, with an AMD based motherboard, AMD cpu.
My IDE hard disk is accessable no probs from the initial ramdisk via /dev/sda.
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Sit Heel Speak
Joined: 30 Mar 2006
Posts: 2595
Location: downwind
Posted: Tue 19 Feb 2008, 13:49
Post subject:
Jesse wrote:
So does anyone know whats going on? I'm a bit lost.
I don't know if this is relevant or not, but I notice that Sabayon Gentoo puts my (1) scsi drive at the top of the chain, e.g. sda, and my 3 ATA drives as sdb sdc sdd. Dingo, by contrast, puts the scsi drive at the bottom as sdd. Perhaps this is causing confusion?
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Joined: 08 May 2005
Posts: 465
Location: Auckland, NZ
Posted: Tue 19 Feb 2008, 18:57
Post subject:
Hi SHS,
Its not the ordering of drives thats a problem. I have only 1 ide disk (sda) and 1 ide cdrom/dvd (sr0). There is a usb chip reader which gets drive nodes sdb-sde.
I am wondering if it is a bug/issue in the new linux kernel ide-as-scsi drivers?
It would be nice if someone else has this problem can let me know their motherboard ide driver filename and/or chipset.
Here is the computers pci list from elspci -l running from puppy 2.13.
sh-3.00# elspci -l
01:00.0 030000 10DE:0092 <nvidia>
05:07.0 040100 1073:000D <Yamaha DS-1 PCI>
05:06.1 048000 109E:0878 <Bt87x>
05:06.0 040000 109E:036E <bttv>
00:18.3 060000 1022:1103 <>
00:18.2 060000 1022:1102 <>
00:18.1 060000 1022:1101 <>
00:18.0 060000 1022:1100 <>
00:0e.0 060400 10DE:005D <pcieport-driver>
00:0d.0 060400 10DE:005D <pcieport-driver>
00:0c.0 060400 10DE:005D <pcieport-driver>
00:0b.0 060400 10DE:005D <pcieport-driver>
00:0a.0 068000 10DE:0057 <forcedeth>
00:08.0 010185 10DE:0055 <sata_nv>
00:07.0 010185 10DE:0054 <sata_nv>
00:04.0 040100 10DE:0059 <Intel ICH>
00:02.1 0C0320 10DE:005B <ehci_hcd>
00:02.0 0C0310 10DE:005A <ohci_hcd>
00:01.1 0C0500 10DE:0052 <nForce2_smbus>
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Sit Heel Speak
Joined: 30 Mar 2006
Posts: 2595
Location: downwind
Posted: Tue 19 Feb 2008, 23:18
Post subject:
Hi Jesse,
Can't help ya. Old MUT's guess_fstype works correctly where it should, and doesn't work where it shouldn't, on my Dingo.
disktype works right for me too--on /dev/sr0. No idea why it's seeing your sr0 CD/DVD as hda. Forgive it if this is an ignorant question, but, Is AMD mainboard + Intel ICH a common combination?
PMount and mount work correctly here too, even on the scsi drive.
insmod does segfault though.
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Joined: 31 Dec 2007
Posts: 150
Location: New Jersey, USA ( East Coast )
Posted: Wed 20 Feb 2008, 01:59
Post subject: Chat in Dingo Alpha 6 - can't get it to work
Hello All,
First, let me admit that this is the first time I've ever tried to chat.
I read the rel help page. I clicked on the chat icon. It finally started
continuously telling me GeoW was not registered. I couldn't find a
clue as to how to register.
After a while, I gave up and rebooted into Puppy 3.01.
Found the chat routine on the menu.
It just worked! beautiful - although I couldn't figure out how to enter
multiple chat forums.
I was hoping that the access would somehow carry over, but when I
rebooted to Dingo Alpha 6 I still couldn't chat.
I think it's a bug, but maybe I just don't know what I'm doing.
Any help would be appreciated,
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text: The database shows the "base" Academic Performance Index for California public schools. The API score is based on the standardized tests and high school exit exams taken in spring 2010. That score is then used to compute a school's statewide rank on a 1-10 scale. The database also includes similar school rankings on a 1-10 scale. Those rankings show how an individual school compares with 100 schools with similar demographics, such as student mobility, ethnicity, poverty, English-language learners and class sizes.


text:
Stephen.flournoy needed a new other design and created a contest on 99designs.
A winner was selected from 57 designs submitted by 10 freelance designers.
SalesMagic - creators of iMap | from Advanced Business Concepts
I am a sales professional by day, iPad developer by night. I have successfully created an app.. iMap for both the iPad and iPhone. I am very passionate about sales and helping other salespeople like myself benefit from this new app I am creating. I believe that design can make or break an application. There have been many great apps that were simple concepts made popular by great designers. I am looking for an innovative look, feel and usability that is professional, yet enjoyable to work with. Salespeople are very busy people. I think the traditional bland interfaces of poor designs make using "business applications" boring. Apple has changed that with the iPad. Many great designs with thought put into usability and color really make apps shine. I want users of SalesMagic (my new app) to LOVE the look of the interface, but not find that it gets in the way. Users of SalesMagic will use the app on an iPad every day so the interface needs to be visually appealing and colorful. Professional is a must but needn't be stodgy.
Small to medium businesses that employee professional salespeople are my target. Anyone that needs to keep track of their clients and prospects are in my target audience. This will include men and women. The average age user is probably 30-40. These are almost always going to be busy people, salespeople, perhaps even business owners that go to SalesMagic to keep track of their clients, notes about their clients and other related customer information. I would NOT believe any of my clients would be kids or over the age of 55. I am looking to catch the eye of the business crowd with a clean professional look, but interesting and unique enough to break the monotony most "corporate" users are used to using in Windows programs.
I need a user interface for my iPad application - SalesMagic.
The app "Bills" on the iTunes app store is a good example of the "innovation" I'm looking for. This app will keep track of contact information about clients and companies. The ideal design will work in both landscape and portrait mode on the iPad. The iPad resolution is 1024x768 in landscape mode. I need the designer to consider an interface that accommodates data input.
The fields that must be included are:
• Full Name
• Title
• Phone1
• Phone 2
• Cell
• Fax
• E-mail
• Company
• Address 1
• Address2
• City/State/Zip
• Notes. Notes will be time and data stamped.
The designer could consider multiple screens for collecting data if it improves the presentation of the concept. The user will be using this app to enter data, and lookup data. The iPad allows almost anything graphical to be used as a design element, hence the designer should feel the freedom to play. Symbols or Pictures to represent items are fine. Using an envelope for instance to represent e-mail is an example.
I like bold graphics, simple is often nice, but don't feel restricted. I do not want a cutesy design. I have attached two files that show an example of the fields, but as you can see there is no life to them. I want a designer to come up with a creative and colorful way to represent the data I indicated.


text:
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The Huntington University Department of Ministry and Missions offers both Bachelor of Science and Bachelor of Arts degrees with majors in missions, children's ministry, youth ministries, recreation and sports ministry, and worship leadership. We offer minors in missions, youth ministries, and worship leadership.
Experience Counts
A key distinctive of our programs is PRIME, a 7-month, full-time, off-campus ministry experience with intensive mentoring by a proven ministry leader. Many schools have internships, but PRIME is unique. It will change your life. Just ask these students who told us their stories from PRIME.
Programs that include PRIME are:
Planning to serve in a cross-cultural or multi-lingual setting? Explore our Institute for TESOL Studies.
Program Focus
Our mission is "to develop thoughtful and faithful leaders who will equip others for effective ministry." We are discipleship-based in our approach, and our primary task is to help you be prepared to implement biblically sound strategies for ministry. We value critical thinking, problem solving, and creativity while integrating biblical truth, evangelical theology, church history, and educational psychology and methodology.
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Object #1025276 from MS-Papers-0032-0605
3 pages written 12 Apr 1864 by Sir Donald McLean in Wellington to Algernon Gray Tollemache
From: Inward letters - A G Tollemache, Reference Number MS-Papers-0032-0605 (38 digitised items). Letter to McLean written from Ham House, Petersham, Surrey, Feb 1857; letter to his brother Hon Frederick J Tollemache (Ham House) written from Wellington, Aug 1859; letters to McLean written from Wellington, 1860 & Apr 1864, from Ham House, Petersham, Sep 1864-Sep 1869 (re Douglas); letters to McLean written from Wellington on his arrival from England with Douglas, Feb 1870.Letter from Tollemache to his brother Frederick, Wellington, Sep 1871; to McLean from Napier, Apr 1872-Jun 1875; unsigned letter from [Douglas Maclean] to Tollemache, Wellington, Jun 1876; letter from Louise Tollemache postmarked Feb 1869 (enclosing one from her husband); accounts; Clifton College report, undated (for Douglas Maclean in lower third form); undated letter from G S [?] Tollemache, Ireland asking [Douglas] to pay a visitIncludes outward drafts by Donald McLean dated 3 Oct 1860, 26 Mar 1864, 12 Apr 1864, 18 Dec 1868, 12 Jan 1870, 1 Jun 1875
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Inward letters - A G Tollemache, Reference Number MS-Papers-0032-0605 (38 digitised items)
Series 1 Inward letters (English), Reference Number Series 1 Inward letters (English) (14501 digitised items)
McLean Papers, Reference Number MS-Group-1551 (30238 digitised items)
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