Alcove

Maureen Ramsey gets many calls from desperate, drug-addicted high school students. Often, Ramsey, a substance-abuse counselor at Cherokee High School in Evesham, can handle the cases on her own. But she sends the most severe cases to the Alcove detoxification unit at West Jersey Hospital in Camden. But Alcove, the last inpatient detoxification unit in South Jersey, is closing next month. West Jersey officials said yesterday that they no longer could operate the unit, whose 31 beds are always full, because most health-insurance companies refused to pay for the treatment.

The spirit of Haverford College alumnus C. Christopher Morris has a splendid vantage point from which to watch over the love of his life. A full-length portrait of the dapper gentleman, his eyes peering straight into the room, hangs high on a fieldstone wall in a special alcove of the college library. From that view, Morris, nattily dressed in a white cable-knit sweater with the traditional tennis V-stripes, stands as quiet lord of all that can be seen - scads of books, pamphlets, records, photographs, uniforms and paraphernalia concerning the sport of cricket.

For years City Council President Joseph E. Coleman has stared at the gleaming portraits of past mayors that ring the City Hall Reception Room, and wondered why City Council has gotten the brushoff. Coleman has long held that City Council is every bit as important to the running of the city as the mayor's office. So he decided that at least some of the men who have presided over Council will be memorialized in oil and canvas along with the chief executives. In June, Coleman commissioned oil paintings of the five people, including himself, who have held the presidency of City Council since the city charter took effect in 1951.

For more than 20 years, an elegant alcove at Haverford College has been the repository of the C. Christopher Morris Cricket Library and Collection - a large, eclectic body of information about the game both in the United States and around the world. The walnut bookcases and cabinets are lined with silver trophies, scorebooks from the late 19th century, wooden bats and decades-old cricket blazers and cricket magazines. "We think it's the largest and most varied collection in this hemisphere," said Murray C. Haines, caretaker of the collection.

If home laundry centers were designed by working mothers, rather than male architects, builders and contractors, you can be sure there would be far fewer washers and dryers in basements, garages and mudrooms. Putting the laundry equipment in a basement makes about as much sense as putting the dishwasher down there. Imagine routinely lugging dirty dishes and pots and pans up and down a flight of stairs. But if that thought is ludicrous for dishes, why is it all right for blue jeans, bath towels and bedding?

Scandal! Intrigue! Wienies! At the end of the first full week of the burgeoning wienie war outside the Chester County Courthouse, the county commissioners made a move on Friday that could take the mustard out of things. In a letter from the commissioners delivered on Friday to newcomer Kathy Borrelli, one of two hot-dog hawkers set up outside the courthouse, Assistant County Solicitor Thomas Abrahamsen ordered her to vacate her spot outside the courthouse steps. "I spent the whole morning crying.

If in Yiddish mathematics the formula is, two Jews equal three opinions, then in Yiddish polemics, how many opinions can four Jews generate? An answer - well, maybe a million of 'em - can be gleaned from Arguing the World, a lively and most enjoyable account of four New York Jews - Daniel Bell, Nathan Glazer, Irving Howe and Irving Kristol - and how their opinions shaped intellectual and political life in America over the past half-century....

Beekman Place, Rittenhouse Square area, Philadelphia If you weren't looking for it, you might miss it - the semicircular, protected alcove, with its flagstone floor and heavy, wrought-iron entry gate that takes you from the row of residences along the 1700 block of Lombard Street into what feels like another place entirely: the courtyard of Beekman Place. "The courtyard is very charming, but even more important to me is the security factor," said Alice Marini, vice president of human resources for Comcast-Spectacor, and resident of Beekman Place for 18 years.

The curtain is poised to rise at the Anthony Wayne Theater, bringing life back to an art-deco landmark here that went dark when AMC left more than a year ago. Clearview Cinemas Group, the new tenant, has renovated the interior, uncovering and restoring much of the plaster ornamentation adorning the entryway and lobby walls. Outside, building owner Steve Bajus has given the twin-towered terra-cotta facade a face-lift. "Hopefully, sometime next week we'll be open and running," said John Halecky, a vice president with Clearview, based in Chatham, N.J. The renovations must still pass a final round of inspections for safety and handicapped access, Halecky said, preventing him from specifying an opening day. But contractor Peter Cimino, a vice president of Largo Construction in Bensalem, said his crew was intent on having work in the lobby and at least three, if not four, of the five movie auditoriums finished today.

A man with a handgun in his belt - a man later identified as an off-duty corrections officer - was tackled by Secret Service agents last night a few feet away from Democratic presidential candidate Jesse Jackson. Jackson, who at the time was speaking to 3,000 people in a huge housing complex in the Bronx, was pushed off the stage and into an alcove by security personnel. For several minutes he stood there, looking extremely shaken as he was shielded by the Secret Service. The man, whose gun became visible when he approached the stage and bent down to take a photograph, turned out to be a state corrections officer who was carrying the weapon legally, according to Delmarie Cobb, Jackson's acting press secretary.

Dorothy may have thought that there was no place like her Kansas home, but Bernard and Audrey Johnson Thornton are positive that their two-bedroom apartment on the 10th floor of the Alden Park apartment complex is truly unique. The entrance to their home in the complex's Kenilworth Building is not unusual. A wreath hangs on the door and a welcome mat awaits those who enter. But once inside the large foyer, beneath a mahogany archway and vaulted ceilings, their home's special features are visible.

There's a whole season between September's Live Arts/Fringe Festival and us, but Stillpoint Productions' Quixote, a reimagining of Cervantes' 17th-century tale, brings some of that discipline-blurring fervor to town months ahead of schedule. When one cast member shouts down to the stage from a balcony, "Is this like that musical Man of La Mancha?", Kate Benson, as Cervantes' modern-day translator Edith, responds wryly, "No, a little different. " She's not kidding. Directed by New York-based up-and-comer Lear deBessonet and written by the similarly rising Lucy Thurber, Quixote is stuffed with a cast of 30 mixed professionals and amateurs; the Psalters, a nine-piece anarchist-gypsy-Christian-punk band (picture Gogol Bordello minus the bordello)

Eventually, I suppose, I'll figure out the light switches - which ones dim the high hats, or flip on the hanging light, or the under-cabinet strip, without which the dangling potholders and spatulas would spend their lives in perpetual darkness. Our kitchen makeover - hardwood floor to ceiling to knocked-out wall - took six months, about twice as long as we'd counted on, which seems about average. It's finished now, as much as these things ever are: I still want to have a Vermont blacksmith we know bend cast-iron hooks for the pot rack.

Eventually, I suppose, I'll figure out the light switches - which ones dim the high hats, or flip on the hanging light, or the under-cabinet strip, without which the dangling potholders and spatulas would spend their lives in perpetual darkness. Our kitchen makeover - hardwood floor to ceiling to knocked-out wall - took six months, about twice as long as we'd counted on, which seems about average. It's finished now, as much as these things ever are: I still want to have a Vermont blacksmith we know bend cast-iron hooks for the pot rack.

Villanova University remembers professor Mine Ener as a teacher, mentor and friend. But some say that naming a section of the library for a woman who killed her handicapped child and later herself would betray the Catholic school's teachings on the sanctity of life. This morning's ceremony to honor Ener may draw protesters upset that the university is dedicating an alcove to her memory. Ener said she was suffering from severe postpartum depression when she killed her 6-month-old daughter, who had Down syndrome, in 2003.

If home laundry centers were designed by working mothers, rather than male architects, builders and contractors, you can be sure there would be far fewer washers and dryers in basements, garages and mudrooms. Putting the laundry equipment in a basement makes about as much sense as putting the dishwasher down there. Imagine routinely lugging dirty dishes and pots and pans up and down a flight of stairs. But if that thought is ludicrous for dishes, why is it all right for blue jeans, bath towels and bedding?

Scandal! Intrigue! Wienies! At the end of the first full week of the burgeoning wienie war outside the Chester County Courthouse, the county commissioners made a move on Friday that could take the mustard out of things. In a letter from the commissioners delivered on Friday to newcomer Kathy Borrelli, one of two hot-dog hawkers set up outside the courthouse, Assistant County Solicitor Thomas Abrahamsen ordered her to vacate her spot outside the courthouse steps. "I spent the whole morning crying.

The curtain is poised to rise at the Anthony Wayne Theater, bringing life back to an art-deco landmark here that went dark when AMC left more than a year ago. Clearview Cinemas Group, the new tenant, has renovated the interior, uncovering and restoring much of the plaster ornamentation adorning the entryway and lobby walls. Outside, building owner Steve Bajus has given the twin-towered terra-cotta facade a face-lift. "Hopefully, sometime next week we'll be open and running," said John Halecky, a vice president with Clearview, based in Chatham, N.J. The renovations must still pass a final round of inspections for safety and handicapped access, Halecky said, preventing him from specifying an opening day. But contractor Peter Cimino, a vice president of Largo Construction in Bensalem, said his crew was intent on having work in the lobby and at least three, if not four, of the five movie auditoriums finished today.

Beekman Place, Rittenhouse Square area, Philadelphia If you weren't looking for it, you might miss it - the semicircular, protected alcove, with its flagstone floor and heavy, wrought-iron entry gate that takes you from the row of residences along the 1700 block of Lombard Street into what feels like another place entirely: the courtyard of Beekman Place. "The courtyard is very charming, but even more important to me is the security factor," said Alice Marini, vice president of human resources for Comcast-Spectacor, and resident of Beekman Place for 18 years.

Maureen Ramsey gets many calls from desperate, drug-addicted high school students. Often, Ramsey, a substance-abuse counselor at Cherokee High School in Evesham, can handle the cases on her own. But she sends the most severe cases to the Alcove detoxification unit at West Jersey Hospital in Camden. But Alcove, the last inpatient detoxification unit in South Jersey, is closing next month. West Jersey officials said yesterday that they no longer could operate the unit, whose 31 beds are always full, because most health-insurance companies refused to pay for the treatment.