It had been a decade since they arrived in Nebraska, a state they had known nothing about until Hurricane Katrina stripped their New Orleans home down to its floorboards on Aug. 29, 2005. They had traveled with their five children to shelters, church basements and an overcrowded motel, where one day a FEMA official announced that a church in Nebraska was offering to sponsor a family and asked whether anyone wanted to go. […]
During their third week in Auburn, the dealership had replaced their new Expedition with a used minivan, explaining that the Expedition had been a short-term loan. During the fifth week, their oldest son had been sent home from school for wearing a Bob Marley T-shirt. “A drug culture we don’t embrace here,” the administrator’s note had read. During the seventh week, the city had asked them to start paying rent on the four-bedroom house, $520 a month, which they couldn’t afford on Troy’s salary as a machine operator. During their eighth week, vandals had carved “Niggers” into the Halloween pumpkins on their front porch, and they had gone for the first time to see the police.
“What is the psychic business? Is it real, or a bunch of baloney?”
She answered, “It’s a scam, sir.”
“The whole thing is a scam?”
Ms. Mitchell would know. She herself was a psychic.
At the weekend it was unpleasantly hot outside the site of Auschwitz concentration camp, so staff set up some misting showers to help people cool off.
In June, Santa Ana police raided an unlicensed marijuana dispensary. After ordering customers to lie on the floor, they attempted to disable the surveillance cameras, then munched on a few cannabis-infused snacks.
When the resulting video made headlines the Santa Ana Police Association sued, claiming that the officers’ rights had been violated — specifically, that because the officers thought they had disabled the cameras, they had an expectation of privacy.
« Performing Shakespeare might be the career highlight for most budding young actors, but the cast of King Lear with Sheep are taking it in their stride.
In a new adaption of King Lear, a director tries to persuade his cast of nine sheep to perform the tragedy. Originally performed at a Sussex farm, it is being brought to Hackney for the first time, with the animals hailing from a city farm in Vauxhall.
Alasdair Saksena, 24, is playing the director, and he is surprisingly unfazed about performing with sheep. “It’s the same as acting with people really,” he says. “I was rehearsing with them this morning, and they do sort of respond to their names… »