thelastbillboard:

May 2013: Anthony Discenza

pgdigs:

April 25, 1979: PSO rocks the jailhouse

From time to time, we find photos in the Post-Gazette’s photo archive worthy of standing alone — and without much story. This image of Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra in the Allegheny County Jail) qualifies.

Pittsburgh Press photographer Michael Chikiris captured the scene and writer Eleanor Chute provided colorful details about how the inmates received it.

"The violin sounds pretty. I hope they come back here," inmate Harvey A. Broadus told her that day.

It’s unclear whether they ever did, but the photograph contains a scene for the ages. The full story, from April 26, can be seen above.

—Ethan Magoc

Junction Hollow

Junction Hollow

coolchicksfromhistory:

Google Doodle celebrating the birthday of marine biologist and conservationist Rachel Carson (1907-1964).  
Rachel began her career at the US Bureau of Fisheries before turning to nature writing.  Her fourth book, Silent Spring (1962), documented the effects of pesticides such as DDT on the environment.  The book inspired a grassroots movement to protect the environment that led to the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) in 1970.  The EPA banned agricultural use of DDT in 1972.
In 1980, President Jimmy Carter posthumously awarded Rachel the Presidential Medal of Freedom, saying:

Never silent herself in the face of destructive trends, Rachel Carson fed a spring of awareness across America and beyond. A biologist with a gentle, clear voice, she welcomed her audiences to her love of the sea, while with an equally clear determined voice she warned Americans of the dangers human beings themselves pose for their own environment. Always concerned, always eloquent, she created a tide of environmental consciousness that has not ebbed.

coolchicksfromhistory:

Google Doodle celebrating the birthday of marine biologist and conservationist Rachel Carson (1907-1964).  

Rachel began her career at the US Bureau of Fisheries before turning to nature writing.  Her fourth book, Silent Spring (1962), documented the effects of pesticides such as DDT on the environment.  The book inspired a grassroots movement to protect the environment that led to the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) in 1970.  The EPA banned agricultural use of DDT in 1972.

In 1980, President Jimmy Carter posthumously awarded Rachel the Presidential Medal of Freedom, saying:

Never silent herself in the face of destructive trends, Rachel Carson fed a spring of awareness across America and beyond. A biologist with a gentle, clear voice, she welcomed her audiences to her love of the sea, while with an equally clear determined voice she warned Americans of the dangers human beings themselves pose for their own environment. Always concerned, always eloquent, she created a tide of environmental consciousness that has not ebbed.

How to Freeze a Person and Bring Them Back to Life

Encino Man in PGH.

Pud Galvin of the Pittsburgh Burghers, a team of the short-lived Players’ League, was the first baseball player known to have used performance enhancing drugs, which back in those days was an elixir containing monkey testosterone. Also worth noting: nobody really cared that he used it. 
via

Pud Galvin of the Pittsburgh Burghers, a team of the short-lived Players’ League, was the first baseball player known to have used performance enhancing drugs, which back in those days was an elixir containing monkey testosterone. Also worth noting: nobody really cared that he used it.

via

pgdigs:

June 30, 1946: Pittsburgh’s violent demise

Last week we made a wrong turn while exploring a far corner of the vast PG photo archive. Hopelessly lost, we dug our way out through the W, X and Y files. There, we discovered a folder labeled, “World Ends.”

We scratched our mulleted heads. Pittsburgh has always existed in its own time warp. Pop culture, music, fashion — we’re always a decade or two behind. So the Earth was destroyed? And we missed it? No big deal, we decided. Sooner or later we’d hear the news on our transistor radio. That’s how we learned last month about the cancellation of “WKRP in Cincinnati.”

We opened the folder and found a surprise: Five illustrations depicting the demise of Pittsburgh by various (and mostly violent) means. The spectacular illustrations, by staff artist Ralph Reichhold, were published in The Pittsburgh Press “Roto” magazine in the summer of 1946 under the inspired headline, “End of the World.”

A brief story explained that the world “as we know it” was bound to have an end — probably not for a while, the Press assured its readers. But then again, “it could conceivably happen today or tomorrow.”

The feature, inspired by an “end of the world” show at the Buhl Planetarium, offered up five possible methods of destruction:

1) Comet attack. Well, the optimistic writer admitted, this probably wouldn’t end the entire world, just one locality — “Pittsburgh, for example.” Yikes! But don’t spend too much time worrying about an attack by malicious comets. “The chances of it happening in the near future are infinitesimal,” read the Press.

2) The sun grows cold and we become human popsicles. “There could be no escape from this frozen death,” the article noted. Then we glanced at the weather forecast and thought, “Hey, wait a minute.”

3) The sun explodes and fries us all. This method would have the added effect of reducing our entire planet to a cinder. We’re thinking the traffic jam at the Squirrel Hill Tunnel would survive. It survives all.

4) Break-up of the moon. We consider this the most creative idea: The moon decides to get a bit closer to the earth. Earth’s gravity tears the moon apart. Chunks of the moon crash down on the ‘Burg. Quite possibly several hundred of us could survive by seeking shelter in that monstrous pothole on Ft. Pitt Boulevard near Market Street.

5) Atomic warfare. This scenario certainly was the most terrifying — and probable. One day after publication of Reichhold’s illustrations, the United States detonated its first atomic weapon since the bombing of Nagasaki. Readers of the Press on July 1 were presented with a front-page picture of a mushroom cloud over Bikini Atoll.

Top illustration: A comet attack levels the Wabash Bridge. (Illustration by Ralph Reichhold/The Pittsburgh Press)

— Steve Mellon 

This is awesome.

A few weeks ago, my parents and I were looking through their attic and we came across a tattered little red book that was mixed in with some of my grandmother’s things. The inside cover read, “School Memories, 1933.” 
The book looks like something that all students at St. Augustine’s in Lawrenceville kept back then. One section includes poems from friends. Some are religious, some are personal, some are cliche, and some are downright impressive. This one, though, was from my great aunt Ann who would have been 14 at the time, just a year older than my grandmother:

"Love is like
an onion.
You bite into it with
delight
And then you stop and wonder
Just why you took that bite.

Your friend, your sister,
Ann”

A few weeks ago, my parents and I were looking through their attic and we came across a tattered little red book that was mixed in with some of my grandmother’s things. The inside cover read, “School Memories, 1933.” 

The book looks like something that all students at St. Augustine’s in Lawrenceville kept back then. One section includes poems from friends. Some are religious, some are personal, some are cliche, and some are downright impressive. This one, though, was from my great aunt Ann who would have been 14 at the time, just a year older than my grandmother:

"Love is like

an onion.

You bite into it with

delight

And then you stop and wonder

Just why you took that bite.

Your friend, your sister,

Ann”

"The Old Game" by Donald Hall

The old game waits under the white,

Deeper than frozen grass.
Down at the frost line it waits
To return when the birds return
.
It starts to wake in the South,
Where it’s never quite stopped.

Where winter is a doze of hibernation,

The game wakes gradually
,
Fathering vigor into itself.


As the days lengthen in late February
And grow warmer, old muscles grow limber.

Young arms grow strong and wild
,
Clogged vein systems, in veteran oak and left fielders both
,
Unstop themselves
,
Putting forth leaves and line drives in Florida’s March.

Migrating North with the swallows,
Baseball and the grasses’ first green,

Enter Cleveland , Kansas City, Boston.

Pitchers and catchers report to Bradenton today.