Picture of the day (general)....

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The little girl in this photograph is Ruby Crane.....from the age of 3 years old Ruby walked blinded soldiers around a rehabilitation centre called St Dunstans at Brighton in Sussex, where Rubys Father was the head gardener....she knew they were blinded and just returned from the first World War.....wandering in the grounds she would take ahold their hand and ask them where they wanted to go ( individual workshops ) and guide them there....people were so affected by little Ruby walking the blind soldiers around they would send her dolls and toys as a thank you for all the support she was giving to the men and women affected by sight loss.....little Ruby was rewarded with a long life as she passed away in her late nineties, in 2011.
Ruby recalled..... " I always remember how my little hand seemed so small in their big hands....they were so pleased to have a child come and talk to them....it was something different away from the monotonous grind of not being able to see things, I think. "
Ruby was so popular that she featured on the front page of the St Dunstans first Annual Report for 1915/1916 and later Flag Day emblems incorporated a similar design that featured Little Ruby.

-Evaline Brueton
 


This photograph shows four Vought OS-2 Kingfishers of Scouting Squadron 2 (VS-2) on Bora Bora. A Quonset hut is visible behind the line of trees and camouflage netting. Bora Bora, whose conditions were primitive in the extreme, was one of the Navy's first logistical lessons in early 1942. It would not be its last....
 
That picturesque scene doesn't quite bring out the dysentery and malaria.
 
I always forget to post these on the anniversary of the crash, non Fatal crash of a North Central Airlines (my old employer) CV580 just after take off at Kalamazoo MI 26 JULY 1978. Convair built tough planes. Engine out just after V1 due to a bird strike on the #1 engine.

Source former coworker who was assigned to assist in the investigation and wreckage removal.

Note that it ended up in a corn field. It did a pretty good job of harvesting the crop. It may be why the older Mechanic's used to refer to the 580's as Con-bines?
 

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Joline and I were sitting in a cafe yesterday having lunch and I saw this car pull up right outside the window where we were seated. As the driver got out, I gave him a "thumbs up" and when he enter he came over and we talked for a short time The fellow served aboard the CV-8 Hornet; he was over 90 years old.
 
From the Golden Age of Baseball. This photo was taken in 1947 of the "Town Team" for Brownsville, TN. My late father is in the front row, 2nd from left (with a cigarette in his right hand.) Every town in west Tennessee had a team in those days, and it was the same for a large part of the U.S. (There is even a book titled "When Towns Had Teams", which I haven't read, about this phenomena in the state of Maine.) He would regale me with funny stories about his "baseball days" while I was growing up, and playing baseball myself (Little League through Dixie Senior, aged 9 through 14.) Local businesses would sponsor the players by providing uniforms (with the business name on the back for advertisement) as well as funds for equipment. If I remember correctly, my father was sponsored by the local "Western Auto" store.

One particularly funny story was when he volunteered to play catcher at a game. The normal catcher didn't show when they were playing visitor-team at another small town, due to car trouble. My father normally played short-stop but on this occasion he took the catcher's position and donned the necessary gear. Everything went OK until the third inning when a batter foul-tipped a fast ball. According to my father, the ball struck him on the bone of his left ankle, ricocheted off that and went straight across and struck his right ankle bone, then finally ricocheted up and struck him directly under his chin. This all happened in a fraction of a second. My father said he just flopped over on the ground in a semi-unconscious state, while the dugout emptied to see how badly he was hurt. He came-to right away and was able to finish the game, with the help of a slug of whiskey one of his teammates provided. Quote from my father: "Hell, son, I hobbled around for 3 or 4 days, my ankles hurt me so damn bad."

Days gone by in the game played "by gentlemen, in the summer, on the grass."

 
Vic Balshaw said:
This brings back memories of watching these races at Cadwell and Castle Combe in the 1950s and the way the sidecar rider used to throw themselves around to help balance the bike.
Click to expand...
I had a colleague who was a passenger in sidecars, after a meeting he was covered in bruises. After my first meeting at Cadwell I went down for a practice day, the sidecars were mixed with motorcycles, due to their geometry there is always one wheel (at least) slipping going around a corner, following them round was an experience, they are all over the place, obviously they know what they are doing, but they look as if something is loose or not aligned and always as if they are about to leave the track in a random fashion. There were a lot of man and wife/ girlfriend teams at club level. I dunno how a relationship survives that, but they loved it, I saw one guy leave his partner on the start line, I bet that caused a few words over breakfast.
 
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