Alabama Gov. George Wallace (right) blocks the door of the the Foster Auditorium at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, Ala., on June 11, 1963. Wallace, who had vowed to prevent integration of the campus, gave way to federal troops.
Alabama Gov. George Wallace (right) blocks the door of the the Foster Auditorium at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, Ala., on June 11, 1963. Wallace, who had vowed to prevent integration of the campus, gave way to federal troops.
"Governor, the Supreme Court and the President and common decency all say get the f*ck out of the damn door. So stop being such a f*cking d*ck and get out of the damn door before I have a tank squash your house. Jesus, what an a**hole."
Alabama Gov. George Wallace (right) blocks the door of the the Foster Auditorium at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, Ala., on June 11, 1963. Wallace, who had vowed to prevent integration of the campus, gave way to federal troops.
Alabama Gov. George Wallace (right) blocks the door of the the Foster Auditorium at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, Ala., on June 11, 1963. Wallace, who had vowed to prevent integration of the campus, gave way to federal troops.
i was listening to NPR on the way to work today and they mentioned this. great picture.
Alabama Gov. George Wallace (right) blocks the door of the the Foster Auditorium at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, Ala., on June 11, 1963. Wallace, who had vowed to prevent integration of the campus, gave way to federal troops.
On this day (+1) in 1783, weeks of rumbling beneath Mt. Skaptar, a volcano in southern Iceland, ended with a roar. And what a roar it was. Across a line of over 10 miles, the earth split as in an earthquake in a movie. But instead of leaving a small canyon or valley, the rift in the earth poured forth massive amounts of molten lava and hazy blue gases. Over the next two months, it spewed out enough molten stuff to cover the entire island of Manhattan with a lava cover a mile high. Looking for a place to go, the lava filled up riverbeds, harbors, seabeds and it melted centuries-old glaciers. Thousands of people were either burned to death by the lava or drowned in the floods it caused. The lava alone would have caused this to be rated one of history's great calamities. But then there was the haze. The heavy, blue, sulphur-smelling haze spewed forth from the fissure and hung like a low cloud that grew and grew until it spread from Iceland southward to Gibraltar. And it hung there. And as it did, there were reports of cattle dying in the field because their flesh had begun to eat them alive. (Now where did I hear that before?) Some humans had a similar experience. Many more developed sudden open sores, sudden loss of hair and bleeding gums, finally dying in the streets. Then things started to get bad. Leaves fell off the trees and plants. Birds, rabbits and other wildlife began to die, often rotting as they fell. Then the fish began to die, rising to the surface, often partially decomposed. (I hope you're not reading this at breakfast.) Now there was no food and those remaining people and animals began to starve. Thankfully, the winds began to shift, the volcano began to still and the dying began to stop....finally!
Why thank you! I love morbid tales in graphic detail at lunchtime!
On this day (+1) in 1783, weeks of rumbling beneath Mt. Skaptar, a volcano in southern Iceland, ended with a roar. And what a roar it was. Across a line of over 10 miles, the earth split as in an earthquake in a movie. But instead of leaving a small canyon or valley, the rift in the earth poured forth massive amounts of molten lava and hazy blue gases. Over the next two months, it spewed out enough molten stuff to cover the entire island of Manhattan with a lava cover a mile high. Looking for a place to go, the lava filled up riverbeds, harbors, seabeds and it melted centuries-old glaciers. Thousands of people were either burned to death by the lava or drowned in the floods it caused. The lava alone would have caused this to be rated one of history's great calamities. But then there was the haze. The heavy, blue, sulphur-smelling haze spewed forth from the fissure and hung like a low cloud that grew and grew until it spread from Iceland southward to Gibraltar. And it hung there. And as it did, there were reports of cattle dying in the field because their flesh had begun to eat them alive. (Now where did I hear that before?) Some humans had a similar experience. Many more developed sudden open sores, sudden loss of hair and bleeding gums, finally dying in the streets. Then things started to get bad. Leaves fell off the trees and plants. Birds, rabbits and other wildlife began to die, often rotting as they fell. Then the fish began to die, rising to the surface, often partially decomposed. (I hope you're not reading this at breakfast.) Now there was no food and those remaining people and animals began to starve. Thankfully, the winds began to shift, the volcano began to still and the dying began to stop....finally!
The first few Oakland A's games I went to, 1982-3, somewhere in there, they sold quarts of Coors in the stands. The guy would open the bottle, dump it into a huge paper cup and get maybe $3 for it. The regular price for a bottle of beer was $2 and that guy was busy, could open and pour 4 at a time, go thru a case in 1 minute. But the fans in the cheap seats, they didn't want to have to go way out there a lot so they sold them quarts and only went out there before the game started thru maybe the 3rd inning, then they'd go sell more expensive beer to the good seats. But by the time you were halfway thru it, the paper cup would start to disintegrate so you learned PDQ to drink it fast. So of course, empty hands always wave at the beer guy for more beer so you've got an outfield of cheapskates with a half a gallon of beer in them before the game even started.
They decided to only sell 12-oz bottles, that lasted a few years, then they decided to make people walk up to the beer stands.
But think about the vendor. A case of beer sold for $48. Vendors in Oakland got 20% off the top, so basically $10 a case. The station for reloading vendors is under home plate, so the strong guys would carry 2 cases at a time up into the stands, sell out in 3 or 4 minutes on a hot day. They usually never had to move from the vomitorium, just show up with beer and people would gather around. Pop the tops off 4 at a time, pour 2 into 2 cups with one hand, take money & make change with the other, pour the other two, pop 4 more tops... literally could go thru 48 beers in maybe 3 minutes. Back downstairs and up, the round trip including selling was probably 8 minutes. So in a 2-hour selling window (half hour before the game to the 7th inning), a vendor who's in shape and never leaves the expensive seats could take in over $200. Back when a daily paycheck at 7–11 was maybe $25.
