December 2, 2001 |
Mrs. Liu could have had three daughters by now. But the shame and legal costs would have been unbearable, so she gave her second daughter away at birth and aborted a third when an ultrasound scan showed that fetus, too, was female. In 1949, the Communist Party took power promising to end centuries of degradation for China's women. Yet hundreds of thousands of unwanted baby girls are abandoned, aborted and even killed each year. For poor, rural families, the choice is as stark as it is cruel.
May 14, 1990 |
Truckers rolling through on Interstate 40 refer to this city of 20,000 on their CBs as "Drunk City, U.S.A." The label reflects Gallup's long-established reputation as a place where people--most of them from the nearby Navajo reservation--come to get drunk. Along Route 66 and its assortment of bars and package outlets, drunks slump against buildings a block from the Santa Fe train yard, where passenger trains bound for Los Angeles and Chicago stop each day.
August 20, 1995 |
Life and death around West 142nd Street and Lenox Avenue come in strong doses. On good days, mothers in curlers push strollers to a corner market, boisterous youngsters gather at a community center for after-school programs and old men play checkers at Col. Charles Young Playground. On bad days, drug dealers and others settle their disputes with semiautomatic gunfire, often spilling blood in broad daylight, in front of children.
September 12, 1998
1995: Initial Sexual Encounters Monica Lewinsky began her White House employment as an intern in the Chief of Staff's office in July 1995. At White House functions in the following months, she made eye contact with the President. During the November 1995 government shutdown, the President invited her to his private study, where they kissed. Later that evening, they had a more intimate sexual encounter. They had another sexual encounter two days later, and a third one on New Year's Eve. A.
January 3, 1993 |
When they converged in San Francisco about 45 years ago, Wolfgang Paalen, Gordon Onslow Ford and Lee Mullican wanted nothing less than to be image makers of cosmic freedom. The purpose of art, they thought, was self-transcending awareness.
December 18, 1994 |
When Circuit Court Judge John Michela and Death Row convict Joe Burrows warily faced each other in a Kankakee County, Ill., courtroom on Sept. 8, it was by no means their first encounter. In the spring of 1989, Michela had presided over Burrows' two trials on first-degree murder charges. The first trial had ended in a deadlocked jury; the second had ended in Burrows' conviction. The same two eyewitnesses--a small-time cocaine dealer and a scared, dim 22-year-old--had composed the sum of the state's case at both trials.
December 11, 1988 |
Elias Lopez never had a chance. He got sucked into something so much stronger than he was, something with a history so powerful, that there seemed no choice but to submit. He was 17, a nice, quietly handsome young man with jet-black hair and a plan. He was going to be a cop, a narcotics investigator. Sure, there were street gangs in his neighborhood, but he did not want to join one. All Elias wanted to do was look like a gang member.
November 7, 1989 |
In the spring and early summer of 1984, I watched two teen-agers in the selection process for the U.S. Olympic boxing team who looked to me like future superstars. As it turned out, neither made the Olympic team that year--1984 was too soon for them. But both left the impression that they were champions in early development. One was Mike Tyson, a 17-year-old pounder from Upstate New York who was still learning to box. An unpolished diamond.
July 23, 1989 |
REMEMBERING HER DAYS AS A young girl--"No one would have accused me of being a happy child"--Leslie Abramson has an enduring memory of her favorite means of escape. After school, at the corner luncheonette, she'd buy button candies and chocolate marshmallow twists (two for a nickel) and spend hours at the comic-book racks, reading. Mad magazine was good for a giggle. But it was the spooky stuff, the horror comics like "Tales From the Crypt," that she really loved. And hated, too.
January 8, 2011 |
The magic man is in his element. He's working a crowd in the back room of a Philadelphia sports bar, his baseball cap turned backward and the sleeves of his sweat shirt pushed up over his thick forearms. A dozen men are huddled around him, transfixed. That's not because he's Jon Dorenbos, long snapper for the Philadelphia Eagles. It's that he's holding a deck of playing cards, effortlessly riffling them with one hand, sometimes shooting them to the other in a graceful arch. Fanning the cards, Dorenbos has one of the men select one, sign it with a felt-tip marker, then put it back in the deck.