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Sheriff Charley Brown: Chapter 1
Below is an excerpt of an unpublished novel by Chuck Walker of Pembina. The novel is set in the 1870s, in and around Pembina, featuring real people who lived here at that time: Charles (called Charley) Brown and John Kabernagle—listed in the 1880 census.
Chuck told me:
Charley came with the first troops to the Fort when it was organized in l870. He was a Sergeant at the time. During the Civil War he was captured and escaped. He became sheriff in l875.
He brought out Eugene Harris (Dr Harris's brother), Dr Harris' Mother and sisters, as well as his own Mother, in 1882. Charley was a cousin of my Grandfather.
What happened in the book actually happened. The names are accurate except for the girl [Marguerite] and her family. The times are accurate, so are the soldiers names and officer names at the Fort. As sheriff from 1875 until his death with cancer in l884 he farmed a quarter at the border about 3 miles west of the present custom house. In addition to being sheriff of Pembina County those years, also ran a saloon just south of what we knew as the old Heneman store, with John Kabernagel. I didn't mention John's wife Hannah in the story, whom I knew very well as a child. The shootings are fact and true, the jail escape is well known. The trips west to recover the teamsters' goods is true and accurate.
Chapter l, Dakota Territory, l878
Sheriff Charley Brown was beginning to feel the pressure. Things were getting complicated; work was piling up faster than it could be handled. A bachelor, he lived alone above his sample store located near the north end of the business block, a business block with no vacant lots. Wood-framed stores and shops were crammed haphazardly together, wall to wall, creating an excellent chance of a future, massive conflagration.
Now, at 31 years of age, Charley was beginning to have frequent occasions of strange dreams, nightmares that he had not had since his teens. They were of his war years, years long past. Usually it was the same dream but with subtle variations. He marveled that waking up from a dream only took seconds, but how long the dream seemed.
The Confederate captain was adamant. Charley was to be hung as a spy. The noose around his neck was snug and scratchy; then the officer suddenly swung his quirt at the horse Charlie was astride, the one he had attempted to steal. At the same moment the officer shouted, "That'll teach you Yankee bastards not to steal horses!" Charley felt the sudden burning pain and choking as the rope tightened with a jerk.
Awakening in a cold sweat, he discovered his bed sheets clammy, damp from perspiration. He also realized he had again been grinding his teeth as his tongue detected a lump inside his cheek. Twisting in bed, he reached over to the bedside table, fumbling blindly for the kerosene lamp. As his fingers contacted the base, he slid his fingers lightly up to the chimney. Removing the glass carefully, he set it aside to grope for a match. Striking one under the bed iron, he touched it to the wick. Replacing the chimney, he flung the bed covers aside and swung his feet to the floor. It had not cooled during the night and the floor seemed warm.
Bewildered, he questioned his sanity. Why am I dreaming about the war? It's been over for years. Something's getting to me! What is it? The nightmare brought back memories of the time he and two friends had been captured by Confederate cavalrymen. The enemy had overrun them during a counterattack by the rebels against Buford's Federals. Hiding until dark, they had attempted to steal enemy horses at St. James Church, only to be captured when the horses created a fuss.
The rebel captain of the cavalry unit wasted no time. All three were to dance at the end of a rope as spies. It was the timely arrival of General Jeb Stuart that spared their lives. The heavily bearded commander appeared out of the darkness, demanding the reason for the clamor. After an explanation, he addressed the captain scornfully. "They are just boys. Send them to the rear."
Charley, already a brevet second lieutenant, and knowing how close they had been to death, saluted the General. "Thank you, sir!" he said.
General Stuart studied Charley briefly with a wry smile before turning away.
Reaching for his watch on the bedside table, Charley saw it was nearly 5:00 a.m. Even from a distance he could hear a cock crowing with pride over his harem. Dressing slowly, he picked up the lamp and moved to the kitchen to make coffee.
A faint light was showing in the eastern sky, faintly illuminating his kitchen. While the coffeepot rocked on the kerosene stove, he stepped to the sink, poured water into a china bowl and washed his face. Rubbing briskly with a towel, he bent further to look into a mirror that hung too low. Dampening his hair, he parted it, determined to get a shave later in the day.
Carrying a steaming cup of coffee downstairs, he unlocked the door of the saloon he shared with his business partner, John Kabernagle. Eyeing the spittoons as he began sweeping the floor, he shook his head in disgust. Men either couldn't or wouldn't spit straight, missing the receptacle, and making a mess on the floor. He made a mental note to tell their swamper to surround the pots with more sawdust.
Finally finished tidying up the floor, he put the broom away and began clearing and wiping the tables, moving the dirty mugs and glasses to the bar. As he stepped outside to lock the door, a last brief perusal of the room satisfied him. On the boardwalk outside, he found the air already warm. The morning sun was an eye-catching ball of fire that caressed the eastern sky with yellows and orange, fading westward to corals and turquoise. Glancing in each direction along the street, he found it totally deserted. The lightness of the morning air still carried faint traces of the acrid odor of smoke, smoke from the burning peat bogs to the east, in Minnesota.
At the north corner he stepped from the raised plank sidewalk to cross the rutted dirt street toward the jail. He knew that John, his business partner, would open the doors of their tavern promptly at 10 a.m.
Suddenly a resounding boom from Fort Pembina's morning salute gun sounded throughout the town. It echoed among the buildings, the harbinger of another workday at the army post located just a mile to the south.
He hesitated momentarily to view the weather-bleached, two storied, squared-log jail. There was that bedraggled, swollen-bellied cat sitting complacently in front of the door. Turning toward the one-holer located behind the jail, he spent some moments, then returned to the front door to remove the brass padlock. As he opened the door, the feline arose to walk daintily inside, rubbing and purring against his boots the moment he sat at his desk. Exasperated, Charley shook his head, addressing the cat loudly. "You skinny, misbegotten critter, you've gotten yourself knocked up again!" A guilty feeling came when he realized he had forgotten to bring his table scraps of last evening. The cat looked up at Charley dolefully, blinking her eyes slowly. Charley knew the female to be independent and usually antisocial. Now, he thought, she's looking for sympathy. Many times the cat had been inadvertently locked in the jail for a day or two, but had come to no harm since he always kept a tin of water inside the door.
Reaching into his top drawer Charley withdrew a sheaf of wanted posters. Gazing out the small, six-paned window directly in front of his desk, he mourned the dirty and cracked panes. Among the broken edges, purple and violet tints sparkled and twisted in the sunlight. Backing his chair toward the doorway, he gained additional light to ease his reading. While he scanned the sheets, the cat jumped to his lap, purring and nuzzling his hands. Petting her absently, he could feel her body throbbing beneath his fingers, giving him a feeling of tranquility. Lazily he attempted to memorize the poor facial drawings and described details of the felons.
His attention was momentarily diverted by the sound of footsteps as lawyer Bob Ewing climbed the outside staircase to his office above the jail. He heard the twang of the screen door spring, then the rattle of the key in the lock. The screen door closed with a slap, followed by a thump as the inner door closed.
Dust motes drifted down from the ceiling as a heavy chair scraped on the floor above. Charley mentally cursed the builder of the lockup, knowing that although the floor above was heavily double-planked, the carpenter had failed to put felt paper between the two layers of lumber. Dust gravitated down whenever the lawyer or his clients moved about.
Finished reviewing the wanted posters, he turned to a two-day-old copy of the St. Paul Globe, knowing well that the paper was owned by the railroad magnate, Jim Hill.
Charley was the only law for well over forty miles in each direction, excepting to the north. There, just two miles away, lay the Canadian border, where Constable Bob Bell was in charge, assisted by Fred Bradley, who was Justice of the Peace.
Recently Jud LaMoure, a local resident, had been made a Deputy United States Marshal. Unfortunately, he was seldom around, being involved in politics and his several business enterprises. Actually, Charley felt comfortable in his position as sheriff, since he had the full cooperation of Captain Collins, the commanding officer at Fort Pembina. He could usually find qualified men if he needed deputies.
Although the sheriff stood a bit over six feet in height, he was becoming conscious of his weight. In the army he had held just below 190 pounds, but now he tended to gain easily. He often thought of his friend Constable Bob Bell of Emerson. Bob, a huge man, was developing an overhanging paunch; also incipient dewlaps were beginning to sag from his cheeks. Perhaps it was conceit, but Charley found himself eating less and walking more, aware of the consequences.
His prowess of manly defense while in the army had made him a legendary figure, fame gained during the war and as First Sergeant of Company I, 20th Infantry. Even so, since the beginning of his sheriffing days, he was known to be a generous man, not a harsh disciplinarian. There were times when he was confused by his own emotions. He had killed men ruthlessly in combat, but now he held a live-and-let-live attitude. He knew he had been brash as a boy, headstrong and willful.
At sixteen years of age, he had run away from his West Virginia home to join the Confederate Army. His grandfather's influence had resulted in his ignominious return home in the custody of a Southern sheriff. Within days he had run away again, this time joining the Northern Army, having been thoroughly disenchanted by the rough treatment administered him by his southern captor.
His thoughts turned to his problem with Marguerite. They were to have supper together this evening at the Crawford House in St. Vincent. Just last week she had brought up the subject of marriage. Since her younger sister, Susan, had married his friend, Ian McLaren, she had been pressing for a permanent relationship.
Looking directly into his eyes, she had said, "We've been walking out together for nearly two years now. Let's get married at Thanksgiving time."
When he was evasive, she became angry.
The breed girl was beautiful and talented, but Charley's training while a youth had made the idea of a mixed marriage a hell on earth. Raised in the east, a son of strict and religious parents, made miscegenation unthinkable, almost a crime against nature. At times his conscience ate at him, knowing he was being unfair to her. Still, somehow, he was unable to face a breakup.
Although there were many attractive white females available, none had caught his interest. Marguerite had brought something new and vivacious into his life, something he had never shared with any other woman. He knew it would be impossible to forget her entirely and knew it would be up to him to terminate their relationship. His conscience ate at him, knowing the longer he put it off, the more difficult it would become. He had never before been so deeply troubled, his moral senses so debased. He felt guilt-ridden with remorse, feeling he had sullied his own reputation, and hers. His conscience eased somewhat, remembering that Margurite liked trinkets. He would stop at Feldman's Jewelry tomorrow and pick up a small gewgaw for her.
Another thought came to mind. Recently renegade Indians from Wood Mountain, in Manitoba, had shown up in the Hair Hills to the west. They had crossed over into Dakota Territory from Canada, causing alarm among white settlers and trouble among the local Indians. After seizing a teamster's horses, wagon and government goods, they had run the man out of the hills. Furthermore, Charley had word that the same redskins had been posting warnings on trees and cabins, ordering whites out of the area. He mused, "Thank the Lord the Indians posted those notices! Now the military will have to take action. They'll have to give me backing when I try to get that government property back."
As sheriff, he was sure the Indians were leery of the military, knowing well the aftermath of the Custer debacle just two years ago. Surely they would back down — that is, if they could be found. But how could he recover the government goods? A grim thought came, "Heck, if I know anything about Indians, those goods have been spread to hell and gone by now! Still, there's a slim chance I might be able to recover the team and wagon."
Another vexing problem had presented itself just last evening, in the form of a Deputy United States Marshal. Charley had been eating his evening meal at the Pioneer Hotel when the proprietress, Mrs. Fisk, brought a stranger to his table. Resting her hand familiarly upon Charley's shoulder, the rotund lady smiled. "Charley, this gentleman says he has business with you. His name is William Anderson."
She turned to the stranger coyly, "You'll have supper with us I expect?"
"Yes. Thank you!" He locked eyes with the Charley, who had risen to shake his hand. "Do you mind if join you, sheriff?"
"Not a bit, take a seat."
Mrs. Fisk turned away with a smile of satisfaction, knowing the stranger would contribute to her coffers.
Charley looked quizzically as Anderson adjusted his chair forward to the oilcloth-covered table. He noted the man's heavy body, his oversized nose that emphasized the square jaw. Casually, Anderson placed a shiny Deputy U.S. Marshal's badge on the table.
"If that's a bona fide badge, maybe I'm the wrong man for you." Charley remarked.
"How so?"
"Jud LaMoure is the deputy marshal in this district. I don't intrude into his business unless he asks for help."
"Let me put my cards on the table." The marshal picked up his badge, returning it to an inside vest pocket. Then he fished in an outside pocket to produce a curved stem pipe and tobacco pouch. Taking his time, he casually filled the pipe, tamping down the tobacco with his index finger. Before striking a match he raised his eyes to Charley. "I'm looking for a Texan. He's been involved in several bank holdups, and lastly, he was one of the gang involved in the train robbery at Mesquite, Texas."
Charley mused, "No strangers in town that I know of. Oh, there are still quite a few railroad workers I don't know personally, but I doubt your man is here."
"He's here! Believe me—I know! He had a local lawyer named Ewing write a letter to his wife in Dallas. Our postal people intercepted it; the lawyer carelessly used his personal letterhead. Perhaps I should explain further. You must have heard of the Big Springs train robbery last November. The robbers got $60,000, all in $20 gold pieces. You're probably aware that we're still looking for two of those bandits and a good chunk of the missing money."
Charley's interest grew. He had reward posters on two of the Big Springs robbers and recently the Grand Forks newspaper, The Plaindealer, had warned of their presence in the immediate area. The wanted posters listed their names as Frank Carter and John Underwood.
"I've heard of them, but few strangers have come into town recently. Sure, we've got about 4,500 residents between the towns of Pembina and St. Vincent, but the hotels usually keep me informed of suspicious characters. Weren't most of those involved in the Big Springs robbery either captured or killed?"
"Yup, but the Mesquite robbery involving Bill Collins happened about four years ago. We've been biding our time ever since, waiting for a break. We finally got it!" Anderson looked confidant, then added, "He may have been living here for a month or more. He's young looking, tall and husky—used to weight about 200 pounds. He's got a booming voice and the personality to charm a rattlesnake.
His voice suddenly turned bitter. "We were raised together as lads and attended the same school. In fact we were the best man at each other's wedding. Trouble was, his marriage didn't keep too well after he began associating with thieves. By luck, I turned to law." He puffed a few moments on his pipe, then asked, "Where does this lawyer named Ewing hang his shingle?"
Charley smiled. "That's easy; he couldn't be closer. His office is just above the jail. He'll be there in the morning."
The marshal glanced around the room, then turned back to Charley. "I'll be around until I can gather up Collins. Can you recommend a clean hotel? I've had enough of crummy rooms and bedbugs."
"We've got several good hotels and quite a few rooming houses. Where is your gear? Nothing wrong with this place; Mrs. Fisk has rooms in the back and upstairs. She's fussy, keeps them clean." Charley chuckled, "Watch out for her; I think she's looking for a husband."
"This lodging will be satisfactory."
The cold, unemotional reply and the look on the man's face told Charley his attempt at levity had failed.
After cleaning his plate Anderson slid back his chair and stood. "Can I count on meeting with you tomorrow morning around 8 o'clock, say, at your jail? By the way, where is it?"
"A block west and a block north, just west of the street. You'll see Ewing's sign by the outside staircase."
Charley removed a small oyster tin from a pocket and began scraping the remains from his plate. He noted the puzzled look on the marshal's face, and said sheepishly, "This is for my mouser at the jail. She's got a litter of kittens on the way."
After his discussion with the marshal, Charley's intuition took over. Putting the facts together, he suspected the wanted man to be Bill Gale. If it's him, he thought, it's a darn shame. Although he had met Gale only casually, he took an immediate liking to the man, but also a suspicion. He judged the man was a mover who never stayed long in any one place. The man had a southern drawl and had worked at odd jobs around town for the past few weeks. Yet he had caused no trouble and minded his own business. Charley knew that Gale now tended bar at Jim White's Halfway-House Hotel in Huron City. It was just two miles north of Pembina, situated on the Canadian border. Gale was a six-footer, a husky man, as large and heavy as Charley. Charley knew he was no man to fool with; the bulge under Gale's left armpit indicated a firearm. That didn't bother him, knowing many of the men in town carried some sort of weapon, either gun or knife.
He knew the hotel where Gale now worked had an unsavory reputation, equipped as it was with girls who rendered services to men. It was located astride the border between Canada and the United States and was well known, famous for its red stripe painted down the center of the barroom floor. The north half of the room was in Canada and the south half in Dakota Territory of the United States.
Salty perspiration trickled down his forehead and burned his eyes as he looked up at the flyspecked calendar. The loud chirp of a lone cricket came from the rear of the jail cell, answered by another, located somewhere under his desk. It was the second Saturday in September, with the promise of the day becoming another scorcher. A drought condition had prevailed all fall and it had not cooled during the night. Nature was playing a dastardly trick, making winter seem far away.
Tugging the watch from his vest, he examined the gold-cased Howard casually. It was one of his few foibles, a fine, expensive watch. Already it was 9 o'clock and the marshal had failed to appear. "Why am I waiting for him? I'm not his keeper!"
Deciding not to dawdle longer, he swung his feet from the scarred desktop. The springs under the slant-back chair protested as he stood. The thought came: "I'll take things one at a time. Bob Ewing can wait; there's plenty of time to find the moniker of the man he represented."
Reaching for his keys and flat-brim Stetson, Charley closed and locked the outside jail door. Some days ago he had forgotten to lock the door and returned to find pranksters had taken the leg irons, cuffs and other restraints and secured them across the arms of his swivel chair. Then they had hidden the keys so cleverly that it had taken a half hour to find them. He suspected his occasional deputies, either Bill Moorhead or Ned Cavalier, to be guilty. More than likely it was Ned, since he was the practical joker and sport about town. He was usually involved in some wild scheme, usually a lottery that turned to his profit. The thought amused Charley, for he knew that eventually word of the guilty party would leak to him. The opportunity for revenge would come; he'd have the last laugh!
Cutting through the alley to Mason's Livery, he entered the rear of the barn to get his saddle. A hostler, busy scraping out horse stalls with a shovel, nodded briefly.
"Durned hot day, dry as a popcorn fart."
"It'll be plenty cool soon, winter is just around the corner."
"Want your horse saddled?"
"Naw, I'll do it. It appears you've plenty of crap to shovel."
His bay in the corral came obediently to his cajoling call. After a brief show of affection, Charley carefully spread the saddle blanket and eased up the saddle. Circling his horse, he lifted and examined each hoof in turn. Finally slipping on the bridle, he mounted and headed for the bridge. A disturbing thought came: that marshal's not much at keeping appointments.
The hooves of his horse made brittle sounds on the dry planking as he crossed the makeshift bridge over the Pembina River. Stopping momentarily to pay the five-cent toll, he noted the water beneath the bridge to be only a foot or so deep. He reasoned a dam was needed here to hold back a head of water. It was obvious that the river was so shallow that it would in all probability freeze solid to the bottom this coming winter. When that happened, water for the livestock in town would have to be hauled by wagon from the Red River, a cold, miserable task.
He was pleasantly surprised to find a light breeze from the southeast as he turned toward the fort. The road held three well-worn ruts, formed by the ox carts that had traveled the path for years. The center rut was formed by myriads of oxen's hooves. The ankle deep dust on the road muted the sounds of his trotting animal.
A warm feeling of satisfaction came whenever he returned to the fort. After all, he had spent twelve years in the army and most of his friends remained in the service. Also, he realized his timing was perfect. When he finished his business with Captain Collins, the officer would no doubt insist upon his staying for dinner.
He was determined to ask that Lieutenant Kirkpatrick be allowed to head the military escort needed for the foray to straighten out the Indians. He had worked with the Irisher before and they got along well. Since today was Friday, he determined they would leave for the Hair Hills early on Monday morning.
"Gadfrey!" he sighed, "It'll take nearly three days just to get out there. Then we'll have to find those scalawags!
On his way to the fort, Charley reviewed the loss of his horse and buggy in the Mason Livery fire just two months ago. As badly as he needed and wanted another trotting horse, good ones were few and far between. Also, they were mighty expensive.
His thoughts turned to Mrs. Geroux. "She's had two buggy runaways this past month. Why does Lucien keep that wild team? More to the point, he's wealthy and owns that big hotel. Why doesn't he buy an older buggy horse for his wife? I'll have to corner him on that!"
He smiled to himself, thinking of his business partner. John had recently discovered his buggy missing. The horse, untended and untied, had taken off, crossed the bridge and was found at the brewery just south of town. Fortunately, both buggy and horse were unharmed. Kabernagle was teased unmercifully about it. Ned Cavalier had jested, "John, your horse is a creature of habit. He knows your every Sunday desire. He just forgot to take you along!"
There was no doubt in Charley's mind who had slashed his trotter, then burned Mason's livery barn. Water under the bridge, he reflected. He's dead now, the dirty pup! How many heinous crimes had Murphy gotten away with in his lifetime? How many murders? It was lucky Pete caught him when he attempted to rape Pete's youngest daughter, Susan. It was certain Murphy would have killed her after using her.
Charley still felt guilty about arresting Pete for killing Murphy, then leaving him in the custody of Captain Bob. Gullible Bob, his jailer, had let railroaders tempt him with drugged whiskey then remove Pete from the jail and kill him. Although Charley knew several of the guilty men involved, he had no firm evidence. Now they were safely across the border in Canada, out of reach.
Shaking his head in frustration, he tried to relieve his conscience. "How could I have known those railroaders would seek revenge for Pete's killing Murphy because Pete was a breed? I'm positive Murphy was the one who raped and killed that young Indian girl at Roseau Crossing; he probably was involved in the disappearance of those two missing soldiers too!" Reflecting, he was thankful Susan and Marguerite didn't blame him for the disappearance of their father. They had been shocked at his removal from the jail by unknown assailants, but were not privy to the fact that their father was positively dead. The only ones who knew were the railroaders who committed the crime, the smuggler who had found his body while crossing the border, and himself.
Even he would have not known, except that the smuggler who stumbled on a protruding, moccasined foot exposed by the weather had reported it to him. He worried if he had done the right thing, since he had returned to the site of Pete's grave with a shovel and completed the burial. At the time, it had seemed the right thing to do. Now he was beginning to feel guilty because he had withheld the information from the girls. He told himself, Someday, when the time is right, I'll tell them.
Approaching the northwest corner of the fort he left the road, taking a shortcut across a stretch of rippling prairie grass. Entering the fort proper, he cut around the end of the long enlisted men's barracks that extended across the north end of the parade ground.
Opposite, to the south, across from the esplanade, were several one-and-a-half story houses occupied by the officers and their families. The store on the west side of the open ground was long and of two stories. Adjoining the store, extending even further south was the hospital, a large portion of which had two floors with an attached kitchen and sick ward. From his past army experience he knew the post dayroom and headquarters were both located in the south portion of the store, there being no other suitable building on the post.
Each fort building foundation had been built of raised wood posts, with sides of the buildings boarded to the ground for winter warmth. The open side of the parade ground lay on the high bank facing the Red River, guarded by three solitary seven-pound brass cannons, standing side by side.
Dismounting from his bay, Charley casually wrapped the lines on the long hitching pole in front of the headquarters. He noted the inner door stood open, no doubt due to the heat of the day. His first steps on the porch alerted the Charge of Quarters, who stepped outside the door.
"Good morning, Sheriff! Come inside. Lieutenant Hoch is on duty."
Following the corporal inside, the Lieutenant arose from behind a desk and extended his hand to greet Charley. "Good morning, Charley! What's your pleasure today?"
"Hello, Oliver. I'm here to see Captain Collins. I've some trouble over in the hills west of St. Joe. I need a little assistance. Canadian Indians have crossed to our side of the line again, and are giving the settlers hell."
Hoch shook his head dolefully. "The Inspector General is here inspecting the post, and we're trying to finish qualifying the men on the rifle range before the snow flies. We're hard up for ready patrols just now. I have my doubts, but of course, it's the captain's decision. He might spring for a few men.
"I probably need only about a dozen. Don't believe the Indians have much support from the locals. Probably a small bunch who have their dander up and will back down and skedaddle back to Canada if pushed hard." Reflecting, he added, "A couple of weeks in your guardhouse on bread and water would really straighten them out!"
Hoch turned to the corporal, "Find the Captain and inform him the sheriff is here. I think he's at the laundry." He turned back to Charley. "The steam jenny over there is giving the laundresses a fit. They're afraid it will explode."
Charley managed a wrinkled grin. "Hold up! It's not necessary to send Corporal Donegan. I'll walk over there myself."
After Charley left the day room, Hoch questioned the veteran corporal. "Wasn't he Captain Wheaton's First Sergeant when the captain was in charge a few years ago?"
"Yes, sir! And don't let that easygoing manner fool you. He was hell on wheels before he quit the army in '75. He was a real tight soldier, a man's man, tough as nails. During the war he was a real leader! He made brevet lieutenant after our first scrap and his platoon was usually given the dirty, most dangerous jobs. He took over the company command on more than one occasion, only to be deposed by Pointers who were jealous of his ability. His men would go through hell for him; I know, for he was my lieutenant until he was captured late in '63."
Taking a direct route across the parade ground Charley passed between two of the officer-cottages on his way to the laundry. A sudden spurt of firing came from the rifle range to the west, causing him a quick glance in that direction. Rounding the laundry building he found Captain Collier in the act of admonishing a soldier.
"Let the fire die out after the laundresses finish for the day, then disassemble the safety valve and clean it thoroughly. You don't need that huge fire in the boiler. Keep it small and feed it often, just enough to keep the steam up. The noise of the steam escaping from the valve is frightening the women." He half turned upon hearing Charley's approach, then added, "Stay on the job when the boiler is fired. I don't want to hear any more complaints from the ladies."
Facing Charley, he began to smile. "Come to put the touch to me again?"
"Yup! Indians in the Hair Hills are putting the run to settlers. I've got to try to recover a team and wagon loaded with government goods they've seized. It was destined for the smallpox area. It'll probably be a cold day in Hades if I get any of that stuff back!"
Collins shook his head. "Darn trouble makers! We underestimate the Indians at times. Fetterman sure did! So did Custer! I only wish I understood them better." He sighed, "Charley, I can't spare you any men until late next week. Can you wait that long?"
The sheriff shrugged his shoulders. "Guess I'll ride out that way on Monday. If I have no luck I'll be back on your doorstep." He hesitated, "Hock implied that you're swamped with the federal inspector visiting. I know what you're up against."
"Just my career," Collins joked. "General Gibbon is the inspector; he's not too hard to get along with."
"He's fair," Charley admitted. "He's inspected the fort before, back when I was stationed here under Captain Wheaton."
Light conversation ensued as they walked back toward the parade ground, finally the captain suggested, "Let's go over to the house. My wife and son will be put out if you don't stop. We don't see much of you—might as well have lunch with us."
At 1:30 that afternoon, the sheriff arrived back in town. Hearing voices from Bob Ewing's office, he climbed the outside staircase. Opening the screen door, he found Deputy Anderson and Jud LaMoure seated near the lawyer's desk.
Anderson looked embarrassed, "Sorry I missed you this morning, sheriff. I ran across Marshal LaMoure at breakfast and we discussed my problem at length."
Jud spoke up woodenly. "Charley, it seems the man Anderson wants is Bill Gale."
Charley took a chair next to Ewing's desk. "Kind of figured it had to be him. He hasn't been around here long, and I kind of wondered about his accent. It's from the southwest, sure not local."
"I still need him," Anderson spoke up softly.
Ewing looked guilty. "You're right, Charley; he's from Texas. Said he was trying for a new life. He had me write a letter to his wife saying he would soon send money to get her here." His face bore a look of chagrin. "It's my fault they've found him out."
"He's no innocent," Anderson grumbled. "He was arrested in Dallas last February for assault and carrying a concealed weapon; he pleaded guilty to that — jumped a $15,000 bail in June, just took off."
"Charley, wasn't he working for Bill Moorhead this fall?" LaMoure asked.
"Yes, but he's working for White now, bartending in his hotel at the border. At least that's the last I've heard."
LaMoure laughed, "What a grand place to work; White's running a damned whorehouse out there."
"Until someone complains, it's not my problem," Charley shrugged.
Anderson spoke up, "Collins has been moving. I traced him to Missouri in early August, then to St. Paul. Finally I got word from Dallas that he was here." Anderson turned to LaMoure, "I stopped in Fargo and talked to your boss, but he was busy in court. He said to see you and the local sheriff. They told me he might have crossed the border into Canada by now. If so, I'd have to bait him across the line somehow."
"You'll probably have to do just that," Ewing said. "If you take your warrant to Canada you'll get the runaround. Best you catch him on this side."
Charley turned to Anderson angrily, "What do you want me to do? I'm only the sheriff; you and Jud are both Federal Marshals. You two can make your own arrest; it's a federal matter—your job."
Anderson was defensive. "I told you Bill and I were friends back in Texas. He'll recognize me immediately and be on his guard. He'll know I'm after him and probably run again."
LaMoure looked at Charley hopefully. "What if you and I go over to Huron City tonight? We shouldn't have any trouble with him, seeing there are two of us."
"Not tonight, Jud. I'll be tied up in St. Vincent."
Jud knew of Charley's occasional dalliance with Marguerite and remained silent.
A long moment of quietude fell, finally broken by Charley. "Jud, I'll go out there tomorrow night with you, but I'll hate every minute of it. If he can be arrested without anyone getting hurt, him included, I'll play along. It has to be tomorrow night though, 'cause I'm heading to the hills west of St. Joe early on Monday morning. I've got some Indians to fuss with out there."
Deputy Anderson stood, and then began to smile. "I appreciate your help sheriff. Perhaps my stay in Pembina won't be too long."
I had never heard of a place called Huron City, just north and maybe a tad west of Pembina, but then, there's a lot of things I don't know, like there used to be a place called Sultan, Minnesota not far from St. Vincent, but it's just a memory now. Chuck says this about Huron City: "The hotel there is well known as was the owner. The hotel bar had a red line painted down the floor, half in Canada and half in the U.S. Charley and LaMoure went out to Huron City to capture the desperado, but he was armed and dangerous."
Trish Lewis is a network administrator in Fargo, North Dakota. She grew up in the farthest northwest corner of Minnesota, where the north wind outside in winter inspires…reading. She maintains a history blog at St. Vincent Memories.
Tags: charley brown, fiction, historical fiction, northwestern minnesota, trish lewis
This entry was posted on Thursday, March 12th, 2009 at 12:10 pm and is filed under Features, Local History, Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
2 Responses to "Sheriff Charley Brown: Chapter 1"
Please, please tell me there's more!
a daughter's mother says:
Mike Haubrich says:
She has posted 33 chapters so there is quite a bit to read. It is at Saint Vincent Memories!


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marketingall necesitaba un nuevo diseño de logotipo y lanzó un concurso de diseño en 99designs.
Un ganador ha sido elegido entre 28 diseños de 4 diseñadores freelance.
TEMS College - http://www.tacticalemstraining.com/
We are a technical college training the next generation of Tactical EMT, EMS and Counter-Terrorism Professionals. Our aim is to provide the highest quality training to ensure that the best and brightest are able to help secure America's future Safety & Security.
Our target market are action oriented individuals that seek to launch a career as an Emergency Medical Technician, Certified Emergency Management Specialist, or Certified Counter-Terrorism Specialist. These heroic and patriotic men are between the ages of 18-40+ years old and seek excitement while also helping to secure and save lives.
Logo details:
1) The logo must include the text "TEMS College" AND the tag line: "Tactical Emergency Management Solutions"
1) Font type: bold and assertive
2) Font Colors: our site colors are primarily red, blue, and grey, so font colors should utilize these (visit tacticalemstraining.com)
other colors: black and gold are acceptable for the logo font, if incorporated tastefully. (This is where your design creativity comes in--you are the experts!)
3) Icon MUST BE A SHIELD/BADGE/CREST that incorporates the following elements (examples of each element attached below)
-a shield/badge
-Medical Cross (with serpent on staff)
-Fire Maltese Cross
-eagle imagery (eagle head, whole eagle,eagle wings)
An example of what we are looking for is the GI Joe gold shield attached below. It is a good example of incorporating the above elements, except we would remove the star and replace it with both of the icons we listed above.
Ultimately, we want you to think outside the box and create a logo that evokes patriotism and heroism.
Please, no use of firearms, bombs, dead bodies, blood, soldiers, etc.
The files we will require are:
Print file format - .ai (CMYK) source file
Web file format - .jpg and layered .psd (RGB) source file
Please leave any comments or feedback and I will respond in short order to help guide the designs.
Happy Designing!
Descubre cómo funciona un concurso de diseño u obtén más información sobre nuestros servicios de diseño de logo.


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1 Person 25 Minute Flyboard Experience
- Duration: 25 Minutes (approx.)
- Location: Henderson, NV
This flight experience consists of 15 minutes on the water, as well as a 10-minute instruction before your flight on land. The Flyboard allows users to fly in the air above the water, through water propulsion. The Flyboard attaches to a Jet Ski through a 55-foot hose and the power of the Jet Ski is used to propel water out of the Flyboard. Though some people might refer to it as a water jetpack, the user is actually secured into the board by their hands and feet. When in the Flyboard, the user controls the navigation whilst the person driving the Jet Ski controls the power. When the Flyboard is attached to a Jet Ski, the Jet Ski has no steering. Flyboarding requires the user to manipulate the spray of the jets by tilting their feet.
***10 Minutes of each experience is used for check-in and instruction***
LLVWS Cancellation, Reschedule, Late, Weather Policy
*Cancellation and rescheduling policy: Anything inside 48 hours of reservation time there is a no refund, no change/reschedule policy. Anything outside of 48 hours can be refunded at a 40% surcharge.
Example: If you make a reservation on September 1 for Sept 10 and the amount of order is $100 and you want to cancel Sept 3 & receive a refund you will receive $60 back.
If you would like to reschedule before Sept 8th there is no charge. On Sept 9/10 there is a no change, no refund policy in place. (Traffic, accident, the passing of family/friend, sickness, etc). If you can not find the location, this IS NOT an exception to be late. If you have a deposit on file with us and you are marked as a no-show or you show up late your card on file will still be charged in full.
All rescheduling requests MUST BE MADE BY EMAIL to firstname.lastname@example.com.
Late Policy: If you are late to your appointment we will remove the necessary amount of time from your appointment to match the time your appointment should have finished at.
Weather cancellation: If the weather turns for the worse we will reschedule you to the next available time slot that suits your schedule. NO REFUNDS are given due to poor weather, wind, rain, thunderstorms, or lake closures. At check out you will be asked to agree that you understand that policy. We will always reschedule if there is a weather cancellation. The only circumstance where we will not reschedule you is if you are marked as a no-show to your appointment. If you arrive 15 minutes or more late to your appointment you are marked as a no-show and rescheduling will not be an option for you.


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Shots Fired: 40 Glocc Addresses All Drama Regarding Young Buck, The Game & Plies "They All Got B*tch Running Though Em" + Lil Wayne "N*gga You Aint No Real Blood Dont Play With Us"
Please click the "Report" button below if the video on this page is not working properly.
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DPO75902SX Oscilloscope
Tektronix - DPO70000SX Series
DPO70000SX provides ultra-high bandwidth real time signal acquisition and analysis up to 70 GHz analog bandwidth. The patented Asynchronous Time Interleaving (ATI) architecture provides the lowest noise and highest fidelity for real time signal acquisition.
- Bandwidth: 59000 MHz
- Analog Channels: 1
- Max Sample Rate: 200 GS/s
- Max Memory Depth: 63 Mpts
- Operating System: Windows
- Form Factor: Benchtop


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Q&A with sharp-shooter Meaghan Noud
Related Links
The UC San Diego women's basketball team is off to a 10-2 start, including wins over two ranked opponents. The Tritons are also undefeated on the road, having won all six non-neutral site games away from RIMAC. Meaghan Noud has played a large roll for the Tritons, including a buzzer-beater that forced a game into overtime, which the Tritons eventually won. The
Q- The game-tying buzzer beater against
NOUD- I think the play was meant to look like the ball was going to Leora. Because Leora had been double teamed the whole game, I think coach decided that we would have a hard time getting Leora open, and she might never get a good look. So the play was drawn for me instead. I went around two screens set by Osier and Ricks, and was passed the ball by Kacie Kostlan. When I released the ball, I could tell that it was online, but I didn't know if the depth was right until it went in. Kacie and Leora were, I think, the first to run over to celebrate. Next, Osier told me that she loved me.
Q- Have you ever hit a shot like that at any point in your hoops career?
NOUD- No. I don't think that situation has ever presented itself for me yet. I have been in a few games like that before, but I have never had to tie a game with a three pointer, or any other shot.
Q- The team is in the middle of a stretch that includes 11-of-15 games away from RIMAC. Has it been difficult being on the road so much in the early part of the season?
NOUD- There definitely is a difference between playing on the road and playing at home. Its harder to hit shots in a foreign gym, and we don't always get the calls that we might get at home. But games can just as easily be won by aggressive defense and determination, both of which have nothing to do with whether we are home or away. And I believe our team has proven to be a dangerous team to play because we never give up, and we have the best ability to come back from a deficit of any team I have ever played for.
Q- After not making the UCSD basketball team in your first two years, you are now an important part of the team. Did you always think you would be able to contribute to UCSD hoops like you are now?
NOUD- Being cut twice from the same team and by the same coach can definitely drain a player of much-needed confidence. I find that I still don't have the self-assurance that I had in high school. The first year that I was cut was confusing because I had been a recruit since sophomore year in high school, and I had signed the players' contract. Then Coach Malone took me back, and I offered to red shirt, so she red-shirted me. I felt that throughout my freshman year as a red shirt, I could work to improve my game, and I hoped that I could demonstrate my growth to the coach. But after being cut a second time, I never thought I would ever have another chance to play again . . . . until the coaches changed. When I heard that there would be a new coach, I instantly had the feeling that I should give myself one more chance. I knew that it would be a long shot, because I hadn't consistently played since high school. But because I was willing to be a part of the team in any way, shape or form, I decided to try out.
Q- With the coaching staff from the Oklahoma area, who on the team does the funniest impersonation of either coach?
NOUD- I think we all enjoy making fun of our coaches' accents because they are teased by everyone every day.
Q- What is a typical day like for you on the women's basketball team?
NOUD- Eat. Class. Eat. Practice. Eat. Study. Eat. Sleep. Repeat
Q- Being from Northern California, was it a difficult decision to come to UCSD?
NOUD-. I always had my eye on UCSD. I liked the location, the campus, and the school. I looked at other schools, but UCSD was my favorite.
Q- What do you enjoy doing off the court?
NOUD- I like to go to movies, shop, and eat good food.
Q- What do you plan on doing with your Biology major after graduation?
NOUD- I plan to go to
Q- Who on the team could make a great collegiate coach?
NOUD- I think Meghan McGovern would be a great coach because she is smart, she knows the game, and she can be very inspirational.
Q- Who is the best dressed on the team? Who tells the funniest stories?
NOUD- Diahnn Futalan has the best fashion sense, but Leora Juster has to be a close second to Diahnn because she is the best with accessories such as hats and gloves. Without a doubt, Hillary Hansen tells the funniest stories because she embellishes an already-interesting story with such insistence and passion, that the listener has no choice but to take her side. Its all in the delivery.
Q- Spirit night is Feb. 9. How much of a lift is it to the team, playing in front of a large crowd?
NOUD- It's a fun change! We love the support.
Previous Q&A articles
Susan Bell (Women's Swimming) January 6, 2007
Tim Fuller (Men's Swimming) December 20, 2006
Alexis Mezzetta (Women's Basketball) December 10, 2006
Clint Allard (Men's Basketball) November 30, 2006
Kristin Halvorsen (Women's Basketball) November 18, 2006
Adnan Jerkovic (Men's Water Polo (November 1, 2006)
Caitlin Ryan (Women's Soccer) October 24, 2006
Amber Ries (Women's Volleyball) Sep. 24, 2006
Chase Douglas (Men's Soccer) Sep. 13, 2006
Diane Dunn (Women's Cross Country) Sep. 5, 2006
Jesse Casellini (Men's Water Polo) Sep. 1, 2006
Nicole Courtney (Women's Volleyball) Aug. 18, 2006
Chelsey Campbell (Women's Soccer) Aug. 9, 2006
Dan Holligan (Men's Cross Country) Aug. 2, 2006)
Tony Salerno (Head Track and Field Coach) - June 8, 2006
Cara Kuebert (Women's Crew) - May 23, 2006
Damian Fante (Baseball) - May 9, 2006
Whitney Johnson (Women's Track and Field) - May 1, 2006
Flynn LaRochelle (Women's Water Polo) - April 27, 2006


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Oliver McGee Releases JUMPING THE AISLE
Founder Partnership Possibilities for America (http://www.OliverMcGee.org) Dedicated to building capacity of people, ideas and things for philanthropic partnerships working across government, universities and businesses inside communities lacking hope and change desired in the Obama era offers "Jumping The Aisle How I Became a Black Republican in the Age of Obama," a recently released book by Dr. Oliver McGee, available online now at Amazon.com (http://www.amazon.com/Oliver-McGee/e/B008NC1AJ2). Jumping The Aisle describes the riveting perspective of an African-American and a former Clinton U.S. deputy assistant secretary, "Jumping the Aisle," in a political-economic sense, from "moderate left" to "moderate right."
Progressives fulfilled the hopes of a dozen generations by electing the first African American president of the United States on November 4, 2008 into office. That was the day - after a lifetime as a progressive - Oliver McGee knew he was openly moving towards becoming a contrarian of the party. He was joining the leagues of generations of Americans who had jumped the aisle and become Republicans.
As the party which traditionally and historically embraced conservative ideals, a dominant military complex, and a healthy free-markets competitive system that fueled technological innovation and capitalism, Oliver McGee foresaw the Obama era as a return to government "hand-outs," "hold-outs," and "heavy-hands" against American free enterprise. This is not to say the government does not have a role to play alongside churches, charities, and philanthropy in helping those in need.
McGee also found himself to be a somewhat lone voice among blacks. While 95% of black Americans were voting in 2008 for the first black president, some 7% more than the 88% which voted in 2004 for Senator John Kerry (D-MA) - many because they wanted to make history, McGee was warning that sometimes going against the grain of the electorate is warranted. It was not an easy tide to swim against his family and friends back in 2008, who were rallying behind the hopes and promises of the Obama era. His progressive colleagues did not know what to make of him jumping the aisle, even suggesting what they thought of his decision as pure folly. But, he hung on to his evolving principles and drafted them in "Jumping the Aisle - How I Became a Black Republican in the Age of Obama." McGee calls for a choice to speak to, listen for, and vote with your own mind - not just your past loyalty to a party or to a history. Inside he puts forth what continues to be our country's extraordinary outlook on getting to America's Tercentennial.
"A rational voice for the American electorate ... farsighted and insightful! Dr. McGee supports his case with such a wealth of research and thought provoking clarity that it is difficult to refute. A must read for those who hunger for sanity in American politics," favorably reviews and comments an Amazon.com reader, Larry Searight (http://www.amazon.com/Oliver-McGee/e/B008NC1AJ2).
OliverMcGee.org (http://www.olivermcgee.org), an independent social, technological, educational, economic, and political (STEEP) advocacy organization, Partnership Possibilities for America Invested in STEEP Giving Forward, celebrates Dr. Oliver McGee's recent book release, Jumping the Aisle How I Became a Black Republican in the Age of Obama, (http://www.amazon.com/Oliver-McGee/e/B008NC1AJ2), available online now at Amazon.com.
Founded by Oliver McGee in 2010, the mission of Partnership Possibilities of America is to provide focused expertise and leadership by fostering greater public awareness, appreciation, advocacy, and advancement of social, technological, educational, economic, and political (STEEP) capacity of philanthropy working across government, university, and industry partnerships. Dr. Oliver McGee established Partnership Possibilities for America to address the urgent call-to-action need that was even quoted by President Obama in his second inaugural address that "possibilities are limitless in America." Sadly nowadays, unemployment for young blacks is as high as 38% in some communities, which is staggering under America's first black presidency. Unfortunately, many Americans underserved socially, technologically, educationally, economically, and politically in some communities across this country are still hoping and waiting for those possibilities to become limitless? Visit OliverMcGee.org (http://www.olivermcgee.org) for more information.
Contact Information: Oliver McGee at Direct Email: email@example.com
Oliver G. McGee III is a teacher, a researcher, an administrator, and an advisor to government, corporations and philanthropy. He is professor of mechanical engineering and former Vice President for Research and Compliance at Howard University. Dr. McGee is former Senior Vice President for Academic Affairs of the United Negro College Fund (UNCF), Inc. He was Professor and former Chair (2001-2005) of the Department of Civil & Environmental Engineering & Geodetic Science at Ohio State University. He is the first African-American to hold a professorship and a departmental chair leadership in the century-and-a-quarter history of Ohio State University's engineering college. Dr. McGee has also held several professorships and research positions at Georgia Tech and MIT. McGee is the former United States (U.S.) Deputy Assistant Secretary of Transportation for Technology Policy (1999-2001) at the U.S. Department of Transportation (DOT) and former Senior Policy Advisor (1997-1999) in The White House Office of Science and Technology Policy. McGee is a 2012-2013 American Council on Education Fellow at UCLA Office of the Chancellor Gene Block, and an American Association of State Colleges & Universities' (AASCU) Millennium Leadership Initiative (MLI) Fellow - educational leadership and management development programs for prospective university chancellors and presidents. Education Background: Ohio State University, Bachelor of Science (B.S.) in Civil Engineering, University of Arizona, Masters of Science (M.S.) in Civil Engineering, University of Arizona, Doctor of Philosophy (Ph.D.) in Engineering Mechanics, Aerospace Engineering (Minor), The University of Chicago, Booth School, Masters of Business Administration (M.B.A.), The Wharton School, University of Pennsylvania, Certificate of Professional Development (C.P.D.), Indiana University School of Philanthropy - Certificate of Fund Raising Management. Dr. Oliver McGee's Partnership Possibilities for America Invested in STEEP Giving Forward is based in Washington, DC.
SOURCE Partnership Possibilities for America


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2019 Legion 9/11 Memorial Run...
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Two-day AR15 Armorer class,...
10-14-19, 21:11
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Group created by K.L. Davis M4C training group for Arizona, and parts thereabout.
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Group created by rharris2163 A Group where fellow Floridian M4C members can informally train, socialize, take advantage of and build upon all the firearm skills of it's members.
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Group created by 30 cal slut An M4C group (however small it may be) for NJ/NY/CT/RI/MA/NH/VT/ME shooters who seek to informally train together.
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Group Created by coble0369 An M4C group for North Carolina shooters looking to train together.
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Two-day AR15 Armorer class,...
10-14-19, 21:11


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We shot this month's lineup of GQ Selects in NYC the same week we were prepping the GQ & Nordstrom Men's Shop for opening night. Busy day, but the shots turned out great. Here are some snaps from on-set.
Killer cardigan—and only $125.
(L) We'd recognize that 'fro anywhere: Mr. Eric Ray Davidson.
(R) GQ styling team's impeccable watch selection.
…And their sock game is unmatched (no pun intended).
[Photos by Eric Bay, one of our Art Directors.]


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Sandy Hook shooting may shift dialogue in Connecticut's 'Gun Valley'
DANBURY -- The Wooster Mountain Shooting Range will stay closed while the nearby Newtown community buries 20 children and six staff members killed at Sandy Hook Elementary School.
But it could reopen this weekend to an even larger crowd, a sign that, like many things in the Land of Steady Habits, Connecticut's affinity for firearms won't likely change in the face of violence. But with the Sandy Hook shooting now an indelible part of the state's history, many hope the public dialogue about guns here will shift.
"I have no doubt that when we reopen, we'll have more people than ever," said Dean Price, who leads the Danbury Shooting Sports Association and runs the range, less than 20 miles from Sandy Hook. "People who have a love of shooting sports aren't going to change. ... The Connecticut gun culture is the United States' gun culture, but it doesn't define who we are."
The Dec. 14 shootings have put a spotlight on the state's history as "Gun Valley" -- once home to at least a dozen weapons factories -- and its gun laws, which are some of the nation's most restrictive.
Connecticut is the home of West Hartford's Colt Defense LLC, whose founder, Samuel Colt, invented the revolver. Though other companies have shuttered here, there are large makers such as Mossberg & Sons in North Haven and Sturm Ruger & Co. in Southport, which says it produces hundreds of thousands of popular guns every year.
At one time, Winchester Repeating Arms, which made the rifles used by those who settled the West, was a major employer in New Haven.
And just across the highway from Sandy Hook is the country's leading trade association for gun retailers and a powerful firearms lobby, the National Shooting Sports Association.
"We're right in the thick of things," said Ron Paolella, who doesn't see fellow members of the Elm City Gun Club in East Haven changing their minds about gun ownership anytime soon.
But Michael Lawlor, the governor's undersecretary for criminal justice and policy planning, said not everyone in Connecticut is a gun enthusiast, and many are reconsidering what it means. On the contrary, he said, the shooting was a defining moment for the state and the country.
"People now realize these things do happen in upper-middle-class, educated, affluent communities, and there may be things you can do and have an obligation to do" to prevent them from happening again, Lawlor said. "Obviously things are going to change. It's going to be a much larger issue for a while, in both legislatures and PTA meetings."
He pointed to numbers that show just 170,000 people in the state of 3.7 million have pistol permits, though the number of gun owners here is likely much higher.
But that demand was on the rise even before the Sandy Hook shooting, said Robert Crook, director of the Coalition of Connecticut Sportsmen, a lobbying group. He said pistol permits have increased from 150,000 in five years, likely out of a desire for protection after a string of troubling home invasions. And the trend could continue, he says.
"The gun stores are almost empty; there are lines going into them," said Crook, whose job includes talking to gun shop owners about their experiences. "If that's an indication of the gun culture, it's overwhelming."
Yet the state that produces and sells so many guns is also considered by the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence to be the country's fifth-strictest when it comes to gun laws. Thirty-five automatic and semi-automatic rifles are prohibited as part of the state's landmark 1993 ban on assault-style weapons, yet there are 8,825 people with such weapons that were registered before the ban. Countless others' rifles narrowly pass muster because they lack certain cosmetic features, such as collapsible stocks or bayonet mounts.
Police say Adam Lanza's mother legally purchased her Bushmaster AR-15, which he used at Sandy Hook Elementary School. The gun is the same make made more famous in recent mass shootings: James Holmes, who police say killed 12 people and wounded 58 others in an Aurora, Colo., movie theater used the rifle, a semiautomatic civilian version of the military's M-16, as did Jacob Roberts, who killed two people and himself at a Portland, Ore., shopping mall just three days before the Sandy Hook rampage.
Lanza also had with him two popular handguns -- a 9mm Sig Sauer and a 10mm Glock.
"We have strict gun laws but they're never enough," said Ron Pinciaro, executive director of Connecticut Against Gun Violence, who said he has been flooded with letters from residents expressing anguish and rage. "People are getting together and saying, it's got to stop. What we have is a cultural change that has to take place."
That might not be easy in a state like Connecticut, which, as it mourns, must balance its future with its past.
"The point is, we've got to do something," Pinciaro said. "We can't allow these atrocities to continue."
Sadie Gurman is a Denver Post reporter on loan to the New Haven Register reporting from Connecticut on the Newtown shooting.


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Editors of Revolt and Crisis in Greece interviewed on the Anarchist Writers blog!
A few months back when we made the decision to publish Revolt and Crisis in Greece in collaboration with the editors of Occupied London, we were so excited about it that we decided to rush the book out, and send emails far and wide hailing it's impending release. About five seconds after those emails went out, I got a response from long-time friend of AK (capital F and otherwise), Deric Shannon, who was chomping at the bit to get a copy of the book, and to get at editors Antonis and Dimitris for an interview. Connections were made, wheels were set in motion, and the result is this fantastic, thoughtful interview. If you wanted to know why we thought the world really needed another book on Greece, this should clear it up for you.
Be sure to check out the original posting on the Anarchist Writers blog!
And don't worry, Deric. Your copy will be on the way very soon!
The people behind Occupied London have been instrumental in bringing news and analysis from the Greek streets and resistance, both in print and on the Web. When I first heard they were putting a book out with AK Press, I ordered a copy immediately (though it's yet to arrive). Their reporting and analysis has helped me and others put together a better perspective on the situation in Greece and its connections to the wider anarchist milieu globally. Such (international) reports and analyses are increasingly important in the age of austerity and as struggles against domination generalize across various parts of the globe—particularly if we wish to see these struggles target institutions like capitalism and the state instead of negotiate with them. Good reporting can also help dispel the kinds of myths prevalent among anarchists about things happening in other parts of the globe and remind us of the things we might do in our own communities.
I interviewed Dimitris and Antonis, the editors of Revolt and Crisis in Greece: Between a Present Yet to Pass and a Future Still to Come over the course of a few months. The situation in Greece has been tense, with huge street demos, fascist pogroms, and police attacks on anarchist social centers (to name a few relevant happenings) in the intervening weeks. Thanks to both of you for the time and care you spent with this interview, given the situation on the ground.
1. First, can you tell me a bit about your book. Who put it together? How did the project come about?
The idea for the book came in response to the various corporate and mainstream tributes to December's revolt that we saw appearing in its first anniversary, in December 2009. We thought, "if that's how they portray December one year on, imagine what will happen a few years down the line". It was as if the revolt was almost apolitical, or at least lacking any contradictions — and not causing any in return.
The original idea, then, was to create a collective book that would read December's revolt from the viewpoint of those who participated in it, from the ground. But in the course of preparing the book, and as the financial crisis was hitting hard here, we realised we could not read December out of this context either. The financial crisis was instigating a series of other crises in its wake — personal, social, political. This is how "Revolt and Crisis in Greece" was born.
We put the book together as an Occupied London project, which meant it was doomed to be as chaotic as most OL projects tend to be — if it wasn't for the enduring patience of the folks at AK Press, it would be hard to imagine it coming together at the end! All of us involved closely with the production of the book are involved with Occupied London. We invited contributions from friends we found close to us in the streets in December, and with which we've felt an affinity since. But we also invited contributions from friends who have moved away from Greece, or who have never even visited, to try get an outsider perspective on the developments there.
At the end, more than fifty people worked to put this book together. The majority were in Greece, but we had contributions from friends in twelve cities, across six countries — a very international project, something we are very happy about!
2. Can you tell me a bit about Occupied London?
In the past, we have tried to describe Occupied London as an "anarchist collective writing on all things urban". This is true, but still not entirely accurate. We are not exclusively anarchist, we are not exactly a collective and we do write about other stuff, too! But when we first got together in the Fall of 2007, to start producing a wildly irregular journal, this had been our main aim: We were interested in questions about urban revolts but also about everyday life in cities — and London in particular, as this is where we all found ourselves at the time. We also wanted to ask questions about space and place, about displacement, about the uncertainties of living in late capitalist times. And we wanted to ask these questions on an anarchist platform, one that would host all those who wanted to talk to us.
In December 2008 the scope of the project took a dramatic turn. As the revolt was unfolding in Greece, we realised many of the questions we asked were being answered right where many of us had left from. So the focus shifted to the situation in Greece and the blog "On the Greek Riots" (now "from the Greek Streets") was born. In a way the book was an evolution of our interest and focus on Greece in the past few years.
3. It seems like the Greek December insurrection has inspired anarchists all over the world. Considering its possible successes and failures and how we might learn from those things living in different contexts is a pre-occupation among large portions of radicals and militants in the US and beyond. What sorts of lessons do you think are imparted in the book? What stories would you like your readers to learn from?
It is true that the Greek December has been an inspiration for many anarchists, ourselves included. Instead of adding to the mythologising of the events —and the anarchist movement here overall— we think this provides us with an excellent opportunity to discuss some of our pitfalls as a global movement, starting with our situation in the Greek territory. So then on the one hand, there would be all the questions of how we go about sustaining a revolt and how we protect ourselves and those who took to the streets with us from the lashing back of the state, as was sure to happen, and as it did: we are talking about the strategies of counter-insurgency that we have seen deployed in the Greek territory in the past two and a half years.
But perhaps more importantly, rather than chasing about that single magical moment of revolt, trying to safeguard or even revive it, the much more important question for us is — how do we start forming conditions, and eventually a reality that is antagonistic to the present reality, to the present social and material conditions? In the face of the capitalist crisis and its repercussions on the ground here in Greece, this is no abstract theoretical exercise — it is a vital and urgent question.
4. One of the inspiring things to me about contemporary anti-capitalists is that they seem to borrow from a lot of different ideas and perspectives. Most have a pastiche, of sorts, rather than a single ready-made theory of revolution in a way to account for complexity in social life and the struggles that grow out of it. What sorts of ideas, movements, moments, and theories shape the content of the book and the struggles it grew out of?
Yes, exactly, we absolutely agree. The last few years' anti-capitalist discourses and practices are more open to each other and various trends of thought that in the past would be unthinkable. This is not to say that we are not anarchists and anti-authoritarians, we definitely are, but at the same time the meaning of being anarchist has evolved over time. On the one hand, this is due to practical reasons, namely late capitalism is one of the most evolved and effective versions of this exploitative system, so the older ready-made theories have been proved inadequate, but on the other hand our movements themselves seem to mature in various ways and one of these signs of maturity is our better strategies, one of these better strategies is exactly the merge of different perspectives, approaches and practices—or to phrase it better, the acknowledgement of our diversity and pastiche as anarchists, a diversity that was not recognised by more ready-made theoretical schemes in the past. However, this situation has a difficulty, it is almost impossible to simply enumerate in a few words the ideas that are shaping Occupied London projects and our political subjectivities. To make it even worse, the book itself involves more than 50 people, while way more than one hundred people have been involved in OL projects since 2007, so it is too complex to just enumerate our commonalities and our differences. Perhaps the best way to phrase it is that we are all linked through our involvement in the antagonist movements in the places where we are politically active. Some of us share common theoretical references, you can easily spot them in our texts and in our bibliography. So perhaps what links us more than theories is practice and being part of a common struggle against domination. It is pretty physical as it would not be an exaggeration to suggest that everyone of the people involved in this book has been together with several other contributors during events and struggles in Greece, Britain or elsewhere over the last ten years or so. Although we have a diversity of individual politics, we have met on the streets, in squares, assemblies, discussions, international days of actions, anti-globalization demonstrations, international or local solidarity actions, Maydays etc. materializing our common anti-capitalism spatially or temporally together. Our purpose in this book was just to materialize this gathering in a paper version as well. Writing, and especially writing together for a collective project, is a very valuable exercise for putting together thoughts, reflecting and discussing our relationships, our diversity and commonalities and experiences, is valuable for our future collective struggles and the many Decembers that this crisis will see.
5. How have generational gaps played out in the struggles in Greece? In the US, it seems like the anarchist milieu is mostly young, yet we also seem to be making greater connections between people of all ages. Has your experience been similar?
First of all there are people who would tell you that there is no generational gap in the anarchist movement in Greece or to phrase it better: they will say that it is just an imagined division and that there are much more things that link the anarchists of the various ages than divide them. This is partly true, not least, because the movement itself is relatively new, starting in the 1970s and developing particularly in the 1980s. Moreover, there are quite a few differences amongst the various tendencies of the anarchist milieu, but often quite a few of the various tendencies include people from all the age groups that comprise the anarchist milieu.
However, there are several events and historical developments which had a crucial impact on the formation of what you called the anarchist milieu and it is difficult to ignore that some people grew up under very different circumstances and with different reference points. For example, the Polytechnic occupation of 1995 or the assassination of Kaltezas by the police back in 1985 are two such events. Furthermore, one of the more structural historical developments is the political-economic transformations since early 1990s: the so-called modernization of the state and the economy. This 'modernization' implies a movement towards neo-liberalism, with flexible labour relationships, lowered value of labour, privatization of public services, decreases to social policy expenses and so on. Moreover, the modernization of the state implied the modernization of repression and surveillance etc. These structural changes had a vast and diverse impact on the young people who were school-age or were just born after the 1990s, these people grew up and were politicized within a different context in comparison to the people who were born in the 1970s or early 1980s and have direct experience of the pre-1990 circumstances. However, the last few years and since December 2008 in particular these two groups are mixing much more on the streets or during other activities, echoing the people who claim that generational differences are little in comparison to the common worldview that our political affinity provides us with.
6. When I visited Athens and met with anarchists there last summer, it seemed as if space–and particularly social centers–were very important to various projects there. Can you describe the role of space and the centers in anarchist struggles?
Let us move a little away from Greece in order to respond to this question. During our trip in North America, we participated in 12 presentations-gatherings in various cities and we had the chance to talk with a lot of comrades from North America about their experiences with anarchist spaces in all these places. The oppositional spaces are the material infrastructure of the milieu, it is within and through those cells of anti-capitalist, anti-commercial and anti-authoritarian everyday existence where we build our collective self in towns and cities. They provide visibility and the actual infrastructure for the anarchist movement to evolve as an antagonist social organization, antagonist both in terms of existing in a parallel social structure but also as places within which political actions can be organized. At the same time they are vulnerable to the attacks of the authorities. Any given moment cops may try to raid them, the city councils may come up with fines because of noise or with random health and safety checks or anything else they may think up. In Greece we had several examples of such places raided by cops. For example Resalto, an anarchist space in Athens, was raided on December 5, 2009 in order to repress the preparations for the first anniversary of the December revolt. However, without them we cannot form and grow as much as we want, we think that there are a lot of people who like or sympathize with anarchist objectives and practices but they literally do not know where to find a place to start from and this is something which is provided by such spaces. Moreover, within the cities the spaces where somebody can just spend some time without having to spend money decrease dramatically, so we think that all the struggles for appropriation of spaces in order to turn them into social-political spaces is another important thing. For example, something that happens a lot in Greece is the appropriation of university spaces, anarchist student groups in collaboration with non-student groups often use university facilities for events, assemblies etc. or another such thing is mikrofoniki, namely dozens of people gathering in a square with loudspeakers reading communiques and playing music for several hours in order to inform passersby about a particular struggle, event or action. Also, sabotage of ticket machines in train or underground stations are other examples of activities for the appropriation of urban space that have great potentialities for political impact. Appropriating and politicizing 'neutral' or 'hostile' spaces temporarily or on a more fixed basis is one of the most powerful tools in our hands, both the state and the anarchists know about it, so it is a continuing struggle.
7. One thing I've often wondered about in terms of praxis among Greek anarchists and anti-authoritarians are their relationships with other anti-capitalists. Greece has a history of various anti-capitalist forces, from authoritarian communists to anti-authoritarian Marxists and anarchists. How do the different political tendencies among anti-capitalists relate to one another?
This is a very long story: The current anarchist tendencies in Greece emerged during the 1970s and particularly during the 1980s. That was a period when quite a few of the so-called anti-capitalist forces or forces which had adopted anti-capitalist rhetoric were institutionalised becoming part of the establishment. For example the Communist Party (KKE) became part of the parliamentary regime physically attacking university occupations or co-policing demonstrations together with riot police against anarchists or far-left groups. By the end of the 1980s the only actual political opposition was the non-parliamentary anti-capitalist groups, the so-called "opposition of the streets", while the entire spectrum of institutional political forces was collaborating in order to proceed with the harmonious functions of the state. That collaboration was materialised perfectly at the end of the 1980s when the Communist Party and the Right-wing Nea Dimokratia (New Democracy, which had in its ranks various extreme right MPs) formed together a coalition emergency government in order to clean up Greek governance from scandals and so capitalism and the state could function again 'properly'. This leaves quite a few groups which have come together to the streets, occupations, assemblies or other actions. However, the boundaries are very clear, in other words each group works on its own things, using its own tactics and strategies and having their own aims. This applies also to the various anarchist groups which may be located just a few streets away from each other but do not work together, leading sometimes to ridiculous situations where we may have an absolute political emergency where several groups do not join because a group they do not want to work together (reasonably or not) got involved first, but this situation changes we think, or perhaps we want to think so.
However, we should not forget that there are initiatives in the last few years which concentrate people who may identify with different groups, but they come together to form something new, for example the base unions is such an example. A last comment to make on that question is that in the last few years in Greece we see a newly emerging mass of people who identify with the political discourses and praxes of anarchist and far left groups, yet they have little or no affiliation with them. One could see many of these social radicals during the December 2008 events. So we guess that an open question is how as anarchists, anti-authoritarians and anti-capitalists we connect with these new political subjects and if these new agents can help in any way to overcome some of the old divisions amongst anarchist and anti-capitalist groups in order to try and work together against the state and capitalism in more effective ways.
Deric Shannon is co-editor the forthcoming AK Press title, The Accumulation of Freedom: Writings on Anarchist Economics (January 2012), as well as co-editor of the book Contemporary Anarchist Studies: An Introductory Reader of Anarchy in the Academy. He is also the author of numerous articles and book chapters, typically on radical political thought. He is a member of the Workers Solidarity Alliance, Queers without Borders, and co-runs the independent record label, Wooden Man Records.


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Swimming Pool Blog
DIY Swimming Pool Toys
by Guest Blogger Thad Baker, June 14, 2013
Homemade Pool Toys and Games
The fun of summer water activities is officially here. It's time to clean and service the pool and bring out children's pool toys from last year. You may find a few of them are in fairly decent condition, and others may need to be discarded or recycled. However, rather than just buying new toys, you and young children can have a fun project and make new toys.
Look around the home before you head for the mall or the craft store. You may find many items that can be recycled. Creating new toys from these items will be an enjoyable project on which the family can work together.
Begin with a few two liter soda bottles. Clean them thoroughly and fit the caps on tightly. Next, take a length of colorful heavy cord or clothesline and tie a half-filled bottle to each end. You can use them for a buoy to show the deep end of the pool or swim lane. Connect two large bottles with a wooden or plastic rod inserted into each bottle. Seal up the ends with lots of duct tape.
Smaller plastic soda bottles can also be used. Wash them first, then fill with colored sand just enough to make them buoyant. Glue the caps on tightly, and use them to play all sorts of pool games. If a bottle sinks it will float back up after a moment or two, and children enjoy seeing them pop back to the surface.
Toys can also be made from unused sponges. Use only new sponges to avoid chemical residue from used sponges getting into the water. Cut each sponge into strips and tie four to six strips together in the middle. This will form a little bundle. Pull the strips into a pom pom that children can toss to each other in the pool.
Your local hobby or craft store will yield other items from which you can create homemade pool toys. If you're on a budget, start in the clearance section and don't be afraid to get creative!
Pick up some versatile and cheap craft foam, draw the outline and let the kids cut large letters from the foam, (safety scissors). Children can form words or sentences while playing in the pool. Have a game of Pool Scrabble!
Turn your pool into an aquarium to delight the children. Draw the outline with a sharpie, and cut the foam in shapes of fish, turtles, swans and other aquatic animals.
Fill a small plastic bottle with colored water. Cut several strips of foam and tie them to the bottle to make an octopus or a squid. Put a hula hoop in the water through which the sea creatures can 'jump' with a little help.
Balloons make another easy and affordable pool toy. Fill round balloons with water and tie a plastic pail to the side of the pool. Children can earn points by throwing the balloons into the pail. This requires a bit of adult supervision, as any balloon that breaks must be removed immediately, to avoid the risk of someone choking.
Pool Noodles can be made into lots of fun, floating pool toys. Tie foam noodles together to make a raft. You can also create floating circles or figure eights.
Since the kids are going to sword fight with them anyway, might as well make Jedi Noodle Swords with duct tape and electrical tape. Or, you can use partially filled water balloons as balls and use the noodles as polo sticks in a new kind of water polo game, pool hockey?
How about some old fashioned fun? Making paper boats, and racing them across the pool can be great fun. A great idea for a group of youngsters, use wood scraps, or a table of many different items, and have a sailboat derby, with prizes for different awards (fastest, most creative, most unsinkable).
Here's a fun video with instructions on how to make a classic paper boat - launching it in the pool, and then re-enactments from the movie 'Jaws'.
During winter or early spring, set aside items in the home that can be turned into water toys when summer arrives. You can make this an enjoyable summer tradition to which adults and children alike look forward as a fun family time.
About the Author: Thad Baker works with Blue Haven Pools, the premier Oklahoma city pools experts.Thad enjoys being out in the sun and writing about outdoor activities.


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Tozer, W.R.E.;
A theory of making: architecture and art in the practice of Adolf Loos.
Doctoral thesis , UCL (University College London).
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Adolf Loos repeatedly discusses the role of art in relation to architecture in his essays, but many of his statements appear either repetitive or inconsistent with one another, and are difficult to reconcile with his buildings. Considering Loos's writing and built work together, rather than separately, suggests that instead of being fully formulated as a methodology and then implemented in practice, Loos's argument emerges serially and in a piecemeal fashion with the progressive development of his buildings through practice—a theory of making. The line of enquiry into the historical and theoretical material is informed by the division of my own design work in practice into sculptural components and furnishings. The research proceeds on the hypothesis that Loos similarly divided each of his buildings into discrete elements that he either understood as art, or considered functional—and that he deployed ornament to signal the latter, rather than the former. This hypothesis is investigated by tracing the origin and development in his built projects of a number of particular components of the Müller House, in relation to the emergence and revision of specific aspects of Loos's written argument on art and architecture in the essays contemporaneous with these buildings. The investigations are structured by reference to the distinct qualities of each component as identified through the design research, focusing on Composite House. While the research method is specific to my own design work in practice, the investigation is structured so as to produce autonomous outcomes in relation to Loos and modernism, which are meaningful when decoupled from this field data. Loos has to date been predominantly examined through conceptions of modernism as the expression of function, structure, technology or society; however, it is argued here that modern architecture could conversely be understood, through Loos, as a form of art practice.
|Thesis (Doctoral)
|A theory of making: architecture and art in the practice of Adolf Loos
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|An open access version is available from UCL Discovery
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|Copyright restricted material has been removed from the e-thesis.
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|UCL > Provost and Vice Provost Offices > UCL BEAMS > Faculty of the Built Environment > The Bartlett School of Architecture
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The writings/articles/scribbles are my collection of what is stumbled or read somewhere on the net (I try to give credit where it is due). Most of the time I forgot where I read something, hopefully this will compile all those in one site and along the way we hope not to compromise or infringe any law.
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DOVER — In the ninth day of the trial of New Durham resident Christina Thomas, set to conclude this week, the defense called to the stand its first witnesses while the Strafford County attorney's office concluded its list.
Having called upward of 30 witnesses, on Tuesday the prosecution brought in Dr. Lawrence Ricci, who served as a child abuse pediatrician specialist at Maine Medical Center in 2010 when the victim was first brought to the hospital. Ricci testified the victim was in a "dramatic" state, the most severe case he had seen in 25 years, when the victim, now 9 years old, weighed around 23 pounds four months before his seventh birthday.
Ricci testified the boy "shot up like a bean stock" in the six months after he was removed from the Thomas household, putting on 23 pounds and growing 5.5 inches by his next follow-up visit. He said on average, six year olds grow two to three inches over the course of a year.
He said these results led doctors to diagnose the victim with psychosocial dwarfism, an "uncommon phenomenon."
"(The diagnosis entails) being underfed but also psychologically neglected and maybe even abused as well," Ricci said, noting the diagnosis implies an element of "significant psychological and physical deprivation."
Thomas, 34, faces 10 to 30 years imprisonment, according to her indictment papers, and is currently out on personal recognizance bail. She was indicted on a charge of first-degree assault for allegedly starving the victim last August. Thomas' mother, Peggy Starr, 55, also of New Durham, will face trial in April for alleged second-degree assault of the victim.
Defense attorney Steven Keable pointed out in cross examination with Dr. Ricci, although the doctor made these diagnoses, he made many "presumptions" about the boy's home life and interaction with the Thomas family. The doctor confirmed he presumed Thomas was the boy's primary caretaker and said the primary diagnosis of the boy was malnutrition, followed by the secondary psychosocial dwarfism diagnosis.
During an approximate six-hour long period in Strafford County Superior Court, Keable called a few of only several witnesses he plans to bring forward in this case.
Steven Pearson, a roommate and friend of Thomas who lived at her home on Birch Hill Road in New Durham from 2006 to 2010, said he reported Thomas to the state Division of Child, Youth and Families (DCYF) when he saw the household situation "getting out of control."
He told the courts he didn't want his friend of 25 years to "get in trouble," and even attempted to retract his statements to DCYF after Thomas' children — five sons and one girl — were taken away by the state. Pearson said he saw the boy's biological mother, and not Thomas, put the child in a dog kennel in the basement and also witnessed her placing her son's head under water in the bathroom. He also testified police filed their reports incorrectly when they charged Thomas with criminal threatening for allegedly holding a knife to the boy's mother in 2008, stating rather he saw the boy's mother grab the knife and threaten Thomas.
The victim's biological mother, a developmentally delayed 34-year-old woman who befriended Thomas in her teenage years, began living at the New Durham household right before giving birth to the victim in 2003. The woman was allegedly under the care of Thomas, because she needed a place to stay and a payee for her social security checks. The prosecution alleges Thomas was the primary caretaker of the young boy, though several defense witnesses said all the adults in the house assisted in providing meals and feeding children in the Thomas house.
Foster's is not identifying the victim or his biological mother in this case to protect the identity of the juvenile.
A few defense witnesses offered an alternative perspective on some of the testimonies presented by the state's witnesses this month. On Tuesday, one testified the victim was placed in kennel only when he would play "cops and robbers" with Thomas' children where the kennel served as their imaginary "jail cell." Thomas's uncle, Richard Rooks, 53, testified the boy was placed into an outdoor chain link kennel at one barbecue event only to keep him from continually touching the grill.
Rooks, a DJ and karaoke host, noted in his 20 approximate visits to the family's New Durham home over the course of nine years he had never seen his niece act abusively toward the victim. He stated the victim's mother didn't seem submissive, that she would "stick up for herself," and once even tried to push his niece down a flight of stairs.
The prosecution has alleged the victim's mother was under Thomas' power, and the state's witnesses have testified the mother was forced to exercise by Thomas, with her food withheld until she completed sets which was often times reportedly locked away in kitchen cupboards. Rooks said in his interaction with the mother, he understood she was "ecstatic" about losing weight and eager to lose even more.
Following the testimonies of Keith Brooks, a 10-year-long friend of Thomas, and Cheryl Marshall, Thomas' cousin who lives in Farmington, Deputy Strafford County Attorney Alysia Cassotis asked both under cross examination if they thought Thomas "wore the pants" in her household. Cassotis also asked them if they thought it was odd that Thomas lived with her husband, Michael Thomas, as well Kevin Tulley, who has been referred to as the suspect's boyfriend. Both men in court were described as having fathered some of Thomas' children.
Additionally, Cassotis asked Marshall if her testimony had changed since the time she interviewed with DCYF investigators and police, at the request of family members. Cassotis said Thomas's mother, Starr, has been sitting in the back of the courtroom throughout the entirety of the trial taking notes, and asked perhaps if she persuaded Marshall to answer differently.
"I don't really want to know what's going on," Marshall said, who sat with family and friends of Thomas' for the remainder of the afternoon Tuesday after giving her testimony.
When asked about circulating rumors that Christina "Tina" Thomas may take the stand this week and testify herself, Keable told Foster's, "We are still discussing (that)." Keable said he expects to finish with his witnesses on Wednesday, though the trial may extend into Thursday if Thomas takes the stand.
After all witnesses have testified, the state may elect to go through a rebuttal process before closing arguments are made by both the defense and prosecution. After the judge explains applicable law to jurors specific to the case, they will be tasked with deliberating until they come up with a final unanimous verdict. If the jury cannot come to a unanimous decision, the jury will be "hung." A mistrial may then be declared and a new opportunity will be presented for the state to try the case again.
This trial has already taken a lengthy amount of time, having been on the superior court docket for the last three weeks.
In court Tuesday, Starr was seen jotting down notes in the front pew behind her daughter, seated at the defense table. Thomas chewed gum during the trial and was seen laughing with family and friends in court halls at the end of a recess.
A few University of New Hampshire students, from the justice studies program, sat in on the trial with their professor to observe the case, similar to some teenagers from Prospect Mountain High School in Alton who attended the proceedings earlier this month with their teacher.
The jury is scheduled to go back into session early this morning.