As a few pink clouds materialized on the horizon line, The Alehounds vocalist Sean Conlon leaned forward, placing one hand on his guitar as the other dropped to his side. On banjo, Rob Blaney followed suit, letting the instrument take a momentary rest. To Conlon’s left, fiddler Dan Foster joined in, sans fiddle.
“Ooooo, there’s whiskey in the barrel ...” Conlon sang, a smile creeping onto his face as the audience began to clap along in not-quite rhythm. The sun ratcheted down another tiny notch. A young boy ran over to them from his place in the grass and began to dance a freestyle jig. Conlon leaned into the microphone, and gave him reason to keep dancing.
When the city’s management teams gather for their monthly meetings, there’s often a police officer present — usually the district manager — to provides the monthly report of crime stats and what to look out for.
Starting this month there will be a new — and additional — officer in each of the city’s ten management team meetings, with a more specific role: checking in on robberies and burglaries.
You can draw a direct line between the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement today and the story of the Amistad captives of 175 years ago: While the legal system grinds away toward justice, you and your allies absolutely must, at the same time, be energetic advocates for yourselves and your cause.
The kids at St. Bernadette School had practiced “In The Still of the Night” all week, memorizing, singing it at home, so that Monday they could perform it for the man who originally recorded it in their church’s basement six decades ago — and created a doo-wop classic.
Milford, N.H. —Two divergent paths led Bonita Yarboro and Debra Cohen from Connecticut to a door on Boxwood Court, leaflets in hand on an idealistic quest to elect Democratic presidential candidate Bernie Sanders.
The wind was blowing down the beach at Lighthouse Point Park as a crowd of 100 people gathered on New Year’s Day to race into the surf of the Long Island Sound. They wore bathing suits, wetsuits, a smattering of costumes. The Pig Man (a.k.a. artist Tony Juliano) was back from last year. I took off my coat, hat, sweater, shirt, pants, socks, and shoes to reveal the bathing suit underneath, and planted my bare feet in the sand.
Right about then I had an unexpected thought: It’s not that cold.