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Mercerville, Pennsylvania 1866
Olivia Rose stood at the window in the upstairs hall of the Hedward Girls Academy as the last young woman was being escorted into a carriage by her father. Well, not the last.
She glanced over her shoulder at the eight-year-old who sat alone in the once-bustling alcove used for reading and studying. Emily Sadler had stacked books on the worn divan beside her, and now focused intently on the one she held. The shelves behind her were empty. Everything had been sold to pay debts.
Every time Olivia thought of the war and resulting financial crisis that had forced the school to close, her stomach clenched in fear at the unknown. This was home. She had nowhere else to go.
Mrs. Hugh, the school's headmistress, stood on the curb, watching the last carriage pull away. She held herself stiffly, her posture as perfect as that of the students she'd taught for the past thirty years. Once the carriage turned the corner, the woman gathered the hem of her brown serge skirts and hurried toward the door below, disappearing from view.
"I'm going to see about our supper."
Emily acknowledged Olivia with a polite nod.
Downstairs, she met Mrs. Hugh in the hallway and followed her to the office. "I see Jeanette has taken her leave," Olivia said.
"Yes." The lines radiating from the corner of the woman's eyes had deepened over the past months. "Only Emily remains, and we still haven't heard from her mother."
"If I may have her address, I will continue to try to reach her," Olivia offered.
Mrs. Hugh picked up the only thing on the desk and handed her the folder.
Olivia glanced at the headmistress hesitantly before opening it. Emily had come here on April fifth of the year eighteen hundred and fifty-eight. Her approximate length and weight were recorded, as were eye and hair color. She'd been an infant.
Her mother, Meriel Sadler, was listed. A Mr. Roman Terlesky paid the tuition regularly.
Puzzled, Olivia looked up. "Is Mr. Terlesky her father?"
"I don't believe so. He may be her stepfather or merely her mother's…close friend."
"Has anyone ever visited her?"
"Her mother came once or twice in the first few years," the woman answered. "I doubt the child remembers."
Emily's situation was painfully similar to her own, except Olivia's anonymous tuition had stopped coming when she'd turned twelve. She'd been forced to work in the kitchen and laundry to pay her keep. All these years and she'd never known where she'd come from or who had abandoned her. Her heart fluttered, but she managed to ask, "May I see my own file?"
Without hesitation, Mrs. Hugh turned to a crate and flipped through the meager stack of remaining papers. "You may have it—and the girl's. I have no further need for them."
Olivia's stomach dipped as though she was perched on a precarious limb. She'd never had the courage to ask…though she'd wondered aplenty.
After skipping a few beats, Olivia's heart raced. Fortifying herself for whatever she found written within, she opened the folder. In black ink, the same penmanship recorded the date that she'd arrived at the school. She hadn't been a year old. Aside from the date and her physical description, the page was glaringly bare. She stared, her eyes dry and burning. "There's nothing here."
"We weren't given contacts." Mrs. Hugh moved a page to find her handwritten record on heavy stationery. "You were brought to the front door by a lad along with an envelope that contained money to pay your keep for a year. After that, bank drafts came from an anonymous source." She looked up at Olivia with regret. "Until December 1856, at which time there was no check, no notice, no anything. We never heard from your benefactor again."
Olivia had always known she'd been abandoned. That wasn't news. But she'd imagined—or dreamed perhaps—that one day she'd learn who her parents had been. Even if they hadn't wanted her, she would know their names. She would have an identity.
But this…A soul-deep ache defied her to ignore the humiliation. She wasn't even a person if she lacked parents and a date of birth. She frowned. "Where did I get my name?"
"From one of the teachers," Mrs. Hugh explained. "Miss Porter. Do you remember her?"
Olivia nodded.
"Her mother's name had been Olivia, and she always said your mouth looked like a pretty little rose." Mrs. Hugh actually smiled, something Olivia had seldom seen. "You were a beautiful baby. One of the prettiest we ever had."
Her parents hadn't cared enough to name her, and if they had, they hadn't cared enough to see she kept it. The overwhelming lack of identity made her feel like a nonentity.
"And my birthday?"
"Miss Porter guessed your age and selected a date."
With a stoic lack of emotion, Olivia thumbed through the pathetically few pages and notations. Her grades and academic achievements had been listed. She noted her first date of employment at age twelve and her gradual promotions from the kitchen and laundry to teaching. Her entire life consisted of a list of financial records and class grades.
Refusing to sink beneath the rising tide of hopelessness, Olivia closed the folder and picked up Emily's. "Thank you."
"The academy did its best by you, Olivia," Mrs. Hugh said.
She'd always had a bed to sleep in and meals three times a day. This place had been her entire life.
"There is other family listed in Emily's file. An uncle, I believe."
Olivia quickly reopened the folder. Flipping over a page, Olivia found the notation. "Jules Parrish. Oregon City, Montana."
"I only wrote him last week," Mrs. Hugh said. "I kept thinking I'd hear from her mother."
"Did you telegraph?"
"Selling off the furnishings and supplies barely fed us these last weeks. I was hard pressed just to afford postage to notify all the parents."
During the past few years, wages had ceased, and all the teachers had dipped into their own money for food and supplies.
"I'll take care of Emily," Olivia reassured her.
"The new owners will be here Thursday," Mrs. Hugh reminded her. "You only have until then."
"We'll be gone," Olivia replied.
"You haven't had good fortune with finding a teaching position?"
All she knew how to do was teach young ladies, cook and clean. She had no prospects to continue here in Mer-cerville. She'd queried as far as Ohio. Even the paper mills were no longer operating. The war had taken a toll on the entire country. "I'm sure I'll find something soon."
She wasn't as confident as she let on, but she'd never given in to fear in her life, and she wasn't going to start now.
Their beds had been sold, so Olivia and Emily prepared pallets in the room Olivia once shared with another teacher. Emily hadn't asked what was going to happen to her.
"Your mother still hasn't replied to our letters," Olivia told her as she spread the last blanket.
"She probably didn't get them wherever she is," Emily replied, her voice and expression void of feeling. She'd always been a quiet and undemonstrative child, and Olivia understood the need to keep thoughts and feelings private.
Olivia knew well the importance of holding oneself together. "The gospels tell us that our heavenly Father knows how many hairs we have on our heads, remember?"
Emily nodded. "Yes."
It had always meant everything to Olivia to know how much God loved her. "Even as He cares for and feeds the sparrows, He cares for us even more. We are valuable and special to the Lord."
"And He said not to fear because He is with us," Emily added.
As good as it was to know God loved them and was with them, it wouldn't hurt to know there were one or two people concerned for them, as well.
"I'm going to take care of you," she assured Emily. That was the only promise she could make and keep to the best of her ability. Olivia knew exactly what being unwanted felt like, and she wasn't going to let this girl think nobody in the entire world cared about her. Emily had become the closest thing Olivia had to family.
For the past several years, Emily and Olivia had remained at the academy over the holidays, just the two of them, celebrating with minimal fuss. As the only two without any family whatsoever, they were bound by yearnings and inadequacies only they shared. Olivia understood every unspoken dream and glimmer of trembling hope that shone in Emily's eyes. Her dearest wish was to care for her as her own, but she had no means to provide for her.
Since her conversation with Mrs. Hugh, she'd been thinking. Emily had at least one relative besides her mother. She deserved to know her uncle. Perhaps the man and his family would be ecstatic to learn about their niece. And once Emily had been united with her family, Olivia could find a teaching job, maybe even nearby.
Olivia sat cross-legged on her pallet. "You have an uncle in Montana."
Emily studied Olivia with solemn brown eyes. Was that a flicker of hope Olivia detected? "I do?" Emily appeared to digest the information, though her expression remained guarded. "How far is Montana?"
Olivia stood and picked up the oil lamp from the floor. "I'll be right back."
Her bare feet padded on the wood in the empty silence of the hallway and alcove. She found several rolled maps, located the one she wanted and returned. Unrolling the map, she used the lamp to hold one side and Emily's book the other.
Emily folded back her blanket and leaned over the map opposite Olivia. Her dark braids fell forward with the tips grazing the paper.
Olivia pointed, locating a far western spot in Pennsylvania with her fingertip. "Here we are."
Emily ran a finger across states and cities. "Here's Montana, Miss Rose."
The distance was a good ten inches. They studied the vast gap for several minutes.
Their eyes met, Emily's dark and filled with questions. The child was so dear, her fears and concerns had become Olivia's own. Olivia had no idea what being a mother—or having a mother—felt like, but she expected a mother felt toward her child the way Olivia felt toward Emily: Protective. Concerned.
"How far is that?" Emily asked.
"Let's figure it out using the scale," Olivia answered in her teacher's voice. "Do you have a bookmark?"
Emily reached for a slip of paper she'd had positioned between pages.
Olivia painstakingly marked the paper with her thumbnail, and together they laboriously followed the marks that represented railroad lines.
After several minutes of tallying, Olivia sat back on her heels. "Seventeen hundred miles. Plus about another inch or so, because I'm not certain where Oregon City is."
The distance was inconceivable to someone who'd rarely left the safety of this house. At that moment Olivia knew desperation at its peak, but she kept her expression and her voice calm for Emily's sake. "I have a little savings left for train fare and food. We could go to Jamestown tomorrow and learn about the train schedule."
Emily turned beseeching eyes on her. "Do you really think we should go to Montana?"
Olivia yearned to comfort the child, but she was at a loss as to how. No one had ever been affectionate with her, so physical demonstrations didn't come naturally. She reached out and gave the girl's shoulder an awkward pat. "We will find your family, and then I'll acquire a job."
Emily's gaze turned to the hand on her shoulder, an unaccustomed touch that clearly puzzled her, before picking up her book. The map rolled back into a cylinder against the oil lamp. The girl set the book aside and crept back to her pallet. "Maybe my mother will come tomorrow."
Olivia didn't have the heart to support the girl's hope with an encouraging reply. She moved the map and lamp aside and turned down the wick.
She lay down, darkness closing around her. This wasn't the same secure cover of night she'd known until now. She focused on remembering one of her favorite verses from the Book of Isaiah. Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.
She had no choice but to put her trust in God's Word.
Nothing remained for her in Pennsylvania. She had no connections to anyone in the entire country. No one else needed her—no one except Emily.
Emily had people somewhere, and that meant she had a chance for a good future. She was going to do whatever it took to unite Emily with her family. Every child deserved a chance, and Olivia was her only hope. She would trust God to help her do whatever it took.
Corbin's Bend, Montana, 1866
The afternoon sun was still blistering when Jules Parrish slowly rode toward his stable, leading a horse with mud fever. He needed to treat the animal's legs and get back to the herd.
Half a dozen mares, bellies heavy with foals, stood in the shade of the slope-roofed shelter built for their protection inside a fenced pasture. One of them whinnied, and the bay he led replied with a snort.
Jules took a moment to admire the structure. The stable was a thing of beauty, built in the style of a traditional barn, though a hundred and fifty feet long to comfortably accommodate twenty-four horses. It had only been constructed last fall, but he'd given it a fresh coat of white paint this spring. Besides the bunkhouse, this was the only structure he'd had time to build. His one-room cabin and the supply sheds had been here when he'd bought the land before the war.
All he'd thought about during his four-year stint in the army had been getting back. Sleeping on the ground during freezing winter nights, tromping through sweltering heat and eating meager rations, the dream of what he could make this land into had kept him going.
Jules appreciated the shingled roof and twelve symmetrical windows with a nod of satisfaction. Could be it was the most impressive stable in all of Montana. And his herd was taking shape.
A flicker of motion caught his eye, and he squinted from beneath his hat brim, certain the waves of heat were playing with his eyes. A lone hemlock and a hedge of chokecher-ries stood twenty feet from the squat cabin, transplanted by someone who'd long ago given up his dream and moved on. A stack of trunks had been abandoned in the shade of the tall tree, and two females—one wearing a blue dress, the other green—stood as he approached the stable. Even from here, it was clear one was a woman, the other a child.
The woman separated from the girl and walked toward him, her skirt hem stirring clouds of dust that rose with each step.
Jules dismounted and, holding the reins to his mount and the lead rope for the bay in one hand, approached her. "What are you doing here?"
The woman stopped several feet away. "Mr. Parrish?"
"Yeah. Who are you?"


text:
Created in this Craftsy class
From creating a muslin to adjusting fit and hand-stitching hems, Couturier Susan Khalje guides you step-by-step through couture sewing techniques!
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|Here are some details about my project:
|Romantic, Casual
What are you most proud of? It fits good however I can see how underwear can influeance the look. I am glad I have foud good solution for the skirt. Now I will for sure wear it more often. As I had already a zipper in a skirt I used different zipper to the bodies. It works perfect!
Fabulous dress and sewing.
Thanks a lot!
Very creative and well done. I'll bet this dress was a favorite to wear over the summer.
What a wonderful fit on the top. Well Done!

subset: commoncrawl


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Latest revision as of 16:18, 22 September 2012
New account creation has been re-enabled, hopefully we'll be spared spammers. —Ashley Y 17:41, 12 July 2010 (UTC)
New account creation has been disabled again. Despite CAPTCHAs we get a lot of spam again. I'm trying to move to a scheme where accounts can be created by anyone but need to be approved by a human. In the mean time, the login page lists whom to email to get an account. —Nominolo 22 September 2012.


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June 5, 2001
UCSB and Swiss Technical Institute Begin Research Exchange Program
Santa Barbara, Calif.-- UCSB Chancellor Henry T. Yang and ETH Zürich President Olaf Kübler signed a memorandum of understanding on June 4 which inaugurated an exchange program of students between research groups of the two institutions.
"ETH" stands for "Eidgenšssische Technische Hochscule," the Federal Institute of Technology. The Swiss school is one of the world's outstanding technical institutes.
UCSB and ETH Zürich will exchange three to five students annually. The students, who can be at the undergraduate, graduate, or postdoctoral level, must be participating in a research group at either institution, which is collaborating with a research group at the other institution.
Chancellor Yang said, "This exchange agreement represents the kind of international opportunity that students and faculty members long for--a chance to do serious research and academic work in a different culture. In today's global environment, international experience and colleagues abroad are essential, and for these scientists and engineers, participation in this exchange will bring great dividends and new opportunities. For our two institutions, this agreement will enhance our education and research value. We complement each other with our strengths, and we are confident that we will become better institutions as a result of this agreement."
President Kübler said, "I chose UC Santa Barbara for two reasons. I have been impressed with the way Santa Barbara has risen through the rankings and shown a rapid increase in the level of science and engineering research, in particular, in materials science. Quite a few colleagues at ETH Zürich, who have had close ties to Santa Barbara, have confirmed my impressions of its excellence and recommended collaboration. Second, I believe nice places are conducive to good science. I picked places for my own sabbaticals that are beautiful and excellent in science. Santa Barbara fits both those criteria."
At UCSB the exchange program will be managed by the deans of engineering and of science.
Matthew Tirrell, Dean of the College of Engineering, explained, "The students will have an opportunity to see different research styles, to work in an entirely different environment where people are still interested in the same kinds of problems. This exchange is designed not only to benefit students, but also to enhance the research programs at both places by providing each an opportunity to take advantage of the other's resources."
Tirrell said that he e-mailed College of Engineering faculty to ask who is or would be interested in collaborating with a research group at ETH Zürich. "Among the over 30 respondents," said Tirrell, "are faculty members from every department, and they are interested in subjects as diverse as fluid mechanics, control, computer science, and materials." Tirrell noted that connections in materials research are particularly strong. The Chairman of ETH Zürich's Materials Department, Paul Smith, is a former faculty member at UCSB. And, according to Tirrell, "There are many other connections between the two campuses that we hope to develop."
The exchange program, which will go into effect July 1, will last until June 30, 2005, when UCSB's Chancellor and ETH Zürich's President will evaluate results and determine the program's future.
Media ContactTony Rairden
Copyright © 2016 The Regents of the University of California, All Rights Reserved.


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Star Tracks: Monday, May 16, 2016 42 years, 2,191 covers and 55,436 stories from PEOPLE magazine's history for you to enjoy
Latest News!
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- Golden Girls Kim and Kourtney Kardashian Wow In Second Barely-There Balmain Outfits
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People Top 5
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PEOPLE Top 5 are the most-viewed stories on the site over the past three days, updated every 60 minutes
- December 30, 1974
- Vol. 2
- No. 27
Leon Jaworski
He Knew Nixon Was Lying but Couldn't Say It
Born in Waco, son of an Evangelical and Reformed Church minister who emigrated from Poland, Jaworski, 69, worked his way through law school and became a courtroom lawyer known for his toughness. As an Army colonel, he was a member of the prosecution staff during postwar trials of Nazi war criminals. A friend of Lyndon Johnson, he was his first choice for Attorney General (although Johnson later nominated Ramsey Clark) and was elected president of the American Bar Association in 1971. PEOPLE Assistant Editor Clare Crawford talked with Jaworski in Houston about his job and its consequences.
Are there any parallels between prosecuting the Nazi war trials and what you've just done as special Watergate prosecutor?
There is a parallel in the sense that the German people were not bad people to begin with, but little sins will lead to bigger sins. They became callous to the evil that was going on, and I think in a sense this is what happened in Washington. It didn't start with some of these shocking matters. It started with small deviations and then gradually grew into larger acts of wrongdoing.
When did you know that Richard Nixon had been involved in Watergate and was guilty?
I knew it in my own mind by late in December [of 1973]. There wasn't anything I could do about it. A lot of it was grand jury testimony. And the things I got from the White House were confidential. I had to witness former President Nixon getting up before the American people and talking differently from what I knew the facts to be. It was very difficult to keep quiet. But I knew that there would be a day of reckoning.
Do you feel now with the trial that everything is coming to light?
Yes. I supervised the preparation of this trial, and I know what the facts are. I know what the tape recordings show. There isn't very much more to be said or written.
Were you surprised by Nixon's resignation?
I had been told that he would not resign by General Haig and others, and they repeated it over and over again. But I felt that once the recordings were turned over to us as a result of the Supreme Court decision, his situation would deteriorate. And that's what did happen.
How do you personally feel about President Ford's pardon of Richard Nixon?
This was something that I believed was within President Ford's prerogative. He had the constitutional right to do it. Whether I agreed with what he did is beside the point. He didn't second guess me while I was special prosecutor, and I'm not going to second guess him.
How did you learn about the pardon?
Phil Buchen called me on Sunday morning and told me that the President had made up his mind. I just said, "Well, thank you for letting me know." I didn't even wait to listen for the announcement. Jeannette and I went to church.
When plea bargaining came up, wasn't it awful having to decide who would go to jail and who wouldn't?
That's right. But the American Bar Association has, after many years of work and study, come out with its views on plea bargaining, and we followed those very strictly.
What about [former Attorney General Richard] Kleindienst?
Kleindienst came forward very early in the game. During Archie Cox's time as special prosecutor he came in and gave some information on his conversation with the President over not appealing the ITT antitrust suit. Kleindienst just wouldn't go along with it. He opposed the President. I heard the tape recording myself, and the President used some very strong language, and told Kleindienst that he was going to fire Richard McLaren, chief of the Anti Trust Division, and told him not to go further with this case, that it was an order. Thereupon Kleindienst got a hold of John Mitchell and told him he was going to resign. Well, Mitchell went to the President and said we better go ahead and change this because we cannot afford to have a scene such as Kleindienst's resignation. Now for a deputy attorney general to be opposing the President on a matter of that kind—and stand firm—I think is a very commendable thing. Later I was in touch with Archie Cox about what to do with Kleindienst, and Archie said, "Well I'm just thankful that I'm not the one that has to make the decision. The man deserves consideration. What I cannot tell you is how much consideration." I came very close not to charging Kleindienst at all. [Ultimately Kleindienst was charged with a misdemeanor and allowed to plead guilty.]
What do you think of Richard Nixon as President?
As other Americans, I was tremendously disappointed. What I think disappointed me more than anything else was his inability to bring himself around to telling the truth. I believe that if Richard Nixon had told the American people what happened after the election he would have survived this matter. If he had said, "I just feel that I ought to level with you. This might have been made a political football and I don't think it should have been, and it's one reason that I didn't talk about it before, but I just want to tell you exactly what happened," I think there would have been a furor for a few weeks, and then I think it would have all blown over.
That's what you would have advised Richard Nixon if you had been his attorney?
I think that he could have even done it before the election and survived it.
What was the most emotional decision you had to make?
One was the question of whether Nixon should be indicted. We can't talk too much about that because there is a grand jury proceeding, but you know that the grand jury named him as an un-indicted co-conspirator. Well, you must know that they probably acted on my advice. This was something that had to be weighed carefully, but why was it done? The reason was that the House Judiciary Committee was about to begin its proceedings. And this was the proper forum to deal with a sitting President on a matter of this kind. The alternative would have been to go ahead and indict him and throw this country into a tremendous turmoil, not only domestically but internationally.
Looking back, what are some of the lasting effects of Watergate?
I think it's going to be next to impossible to get anybody to violate the campaign contribution law. There was also a feeling that you had to make a large contribution in order to get a door open to you in Washington. That was wrong. And it is going to be more difficult to get the ear of officials in Washington to go along with certain things that might be subjected to criticism. I think everybody is going to watch his Ps and Qs very carefully for a long time. For the young people of the country—this is what I get from their letters—it was very important to know that there is no man who is going to be kept from answering for his misdeeds. From that standpoint, I believe it's been a salutary experience.
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Revisión del herbario de líquenes del P. J. M. Lacoizqueta
ETAYO SALAZAR, Javier (2002) Revisión del herbario de líquenes del P. J. M. Lacoizqueta. Naturzale. Cuadernos de Ciencias Naturales (17). pp. 5-34. ISSN 1137-8603
Official URL: http://www.euskomedia.org/analitica/6369
Father Lacoizqueta's herbarium of lichens (Herbarium Vertizaranense) has been reviewed and deposited in the Association of the Capuchine Friars in Lecároz. The plants are inserted in folders and those corresponding to lichens are numbered: 10, 14, 26, 36, 37, 42 and 43. Their state of conservation is relatively good, but some groups like Cladonia s.l. should be reviewed based on more advanced studies (TCL). There are new quotations that were not previously noticed and others that were published in his catalogue have been eliminated.
Repository Staff Only: item control page
¹Esta fecha corresponde a los datos de catalogación, no al propio documento.


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A woman was arrested at the Davis Amtrak station Tuesday afternoon when she threatened the train conductor with a knife, police said.
Monyea Monique Johnson, 27, of San Francisco, was taken into custody by the Davis Police Department just after 12:30 p.m.
Officers said Johnson was asked to leave the Amtrak train at the Davis station because she did not pay for a ticket.
Johnson threatened the conductor, spit on him and pointed a knife at him, police said.
Officers said Johnson put the knife away when police arrived.
According to officials, Johnson also spit on the arresting officer.
Johnson was taken to the Yolo County Jail and accused of making criminal threats, brandishing a deadly weapon, battery on a peace officer and battery.
The conductor was not injured.