Go to end of page
Statements posted here are those of our readers and do not represent the BaseballThinkFactory. Names are provided by the poster and are not verified. We ask that posters follow our submission policy. Please report any inappropriate comments.
Page 7 of 7 pages
Though the NBA had said Tuesday night the game would go on as planned, Bloomberg asked the league that it be called off.
I need LaGuardia undelayed Wednesday. The forecast indicates that is likely.
Yeah, so that didn't happen.
Presumably it will only be a problem once somebody gets blown up.
Kim Bosso introduced the governor to her son, who has cystic fibrosis. He has been cut off from his breathing machines since the power went out, and the utility company told her she’s not a priority case while her insurance won’t cover her if she goes to a hospital.
“This is my lawyer,” Christie said, introducing her to Charles McKenna, his chief counsel. “He’s going to take care of you.”
In the Roaring ’20s, when Nick Carraway came to life in the pages of “The Great Gatsby,” a train ride from West Egg to Manhattan took him past a desolate stretch of ground in Queens.
Tucked into a few lines is a clue to long-forgotten chapters in the natural history of New York City.
Looking out the window, Carraway describes the scene: “This is a valley of ashes — a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air.”
The valley of ashes evoked by F. Scott Fitzgerald was, in history, the Corona Ash Dump, a receptacle for incinerated garbage; not long after the novel was published, Robert Moses, the shaper of 20th century New York, bought the dump, hauled off millions of tons of garbage, and staged the 1939 World’s Fair there. Today, it is Flushing Meadows-Corona Park, where the United States Open is played.
But before it was anything shaped by humans, that ground was the kind of natural place that, this week showed, we urgently need: salt marsh, a living bumper that would protect the lands behind it by absorbing the force of surging tides.
About 300,000 acres of tidal wetlands around New York City have been filled in by human development in the 19th and 20th centuries. All that remains are 15,500 acres, according to a 2009 report prepared by the United States Army Corps of Engineers and the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey....
You must be Registered and Logged In to post comments.
Login to Join (0 members)
Page rendered in 0.4373 seconds, 73 querie(s) executed