I waded through the ankle-deep water toward Saint Malo. Waves tumbled against the shore, the wind was merciless, but I held my Lancome bag high and waded on. I pretended it was the Tricolor, and I was storming the Bastille. As I neared Saint Malo’s steep, eroded beach, the tide rose higher. I gazed up at one of the Saint Malo beachside estates and saw the figure of a woman at a window, gazing down at me without expression.
By Susan Vaughn, April 1, 1999 | Read full article
Rabbi Lisa Goldstein: A minimum of 10,000 square feet will be landscaped and maintained at our expense.
Steve Thornton
When the air tankers arrived two S-4s out of Ramona, and B-4s out of Hemet, in Riverside County Crandall asked them if they could hit the head of the fire with Phos-check. No way. We can t even see the flames for all the smoke.
Imagine a wildfire driven by winds gusting at 80 miles per hour is racing toward your house east of Alpine. In the predawn darkness, you can see the red-orange glow of the inferno over a small rise to the east. Telephone poles in that direction have already burned, leaving you without power or phone. Not knowing whether to stay put or evacuate, you call 911 on your cell phone and get the Highway Patrol, who patch you through to your local fire district. The fire dispatcher asks your address. You tell her 5201 Alpine Boulevard. But your house isn t actually on Alpine Boulevard.
Across the aisle, is another table like yours neatly stacked with oranges, grapefruits, pineapples, papayas, and other fruits. That table, as well as the rack against the wall, are refrigerated. Your table is not. It is warm and cozy, like your native Ecuador. If you put cold air on bananas, Mr. Ramirez explains, they turn gray. If you ve ever seen bananas that are a grainy kind of gray, it s because they were subjected to temperature changes.
By Ernie Grimm, Feb 4, 1999 | Read full article
There are four line positions: pantry, griddle and fry, expediter, and sauté.
I hung out with a crowd of restaurant workers for a while, and the celebration never stopped. When they weren’t working in their own restaurant, they were in another, at happy hour or the free evening buffet. Or one of the endless parties. Every day. Waiters, waitresses, cooks, managers, huge groups of them, from the Chart House, the Brigantine. They all went to whatever sporting event was current, not only ba
Pete Scully, a battalion chief for the California Department of Forestry s fire protection agency, stands next to his camper-shelled pickup truck at a Highway 94 turnoff east of where Campo Creek turns south into Mexico, about halfway between Campo and Potrero. The hill looming on the south side of the road is completely blackened, the aftermath of a wildfire that roared through this area the day before, Monday, September 13. We could see the smoke, and we could see it was in Mexico. So I held off on the [large-scale] dispatch.
By Ernie Grimm, October 7, 2004 | Read full article
Sally Snipes: I was in a funk for six months because of the black. Everything was black.
Photo by Joe Klein
Ricardo Parra Montes holding Carlos Santana wax head. He s going to go over there, by the Ayatollah Khomeini.
On a stone altar lies a bloody wax cadaver, an offering to the gods whom a diminutive priest invokes nearby.
Photo by Joe Klein This is Tia Juana, Parra says, the founder of the city. The historical society of Baja doesn t want to certify it. They say she was a legend.
The other legendary figure is Juan Castillo, better known as Juan Soldado. He was a private in the Mexican army who, while stationed in Tijuana in 1938, was executed for the rape and murder of an eight-year-old girl that many believed had been committed by an officer of his regiment. Some people say you can pray to him for a miracle, Parra explains.