July 26, 1994 |
A year ago, residents of Cedarbrook celebrated the closing of the raucous Ivy Hill bar. The patrons of the nuisance bar packed guns and drugs, and trashed the streets with beer bottles and crack vials. When the bar closed, residents did what they hadn't done in years: Sat outdoors in the summer. On Sunday, a little more than a year after their victory, the community celebrated again with the dedication of the Brand New Life Christian Center. Greg Wicks, of Wadsworth Neighbors Against Drugs, said his group, a nightly town watch that had worked with neighbors and law enforcement to close down the Ivy Hill, welcomes the church.
September 24, 1999 |
Burn Manhattan, the name of both the show and the group, wasn't exactly smoldering in its Fringe Festival debut Wednesday night. But, then again, it was struggling under a handicap: One actor, Jay Rhoderick, had to miss the show, leaving the other four to carry on, along with musical director Mark Levenson at the piano. Rhoderick was scheduled to return for remaining performances. Burn Manhattan has no script, just the inventiveness of these men in dark suits and skinny ties, who use a couple of bar stools as props.
June 3, 2010 |
Vincent Cervellero returned to his Tacony home one day in 2007 to find his two hot tubs, a yet-to-be-assembled gazebo, a grill, refrigerator, bar stools and other items taken from his yard. He later learned that members of the city's Community Life Improvement Program (CLIP), an anti-blight program, had taken his items without his permission. Cervellero, who filed a civil claim against the city, the Department of Licenses and Inspections and CLIP, was awarded a $7,000 settlement in the case earlier this year, his attorney, Coren J. Wise, said yesterday.
April 4, 2013
OF ALL THE topics that diners tend to fuss over, "authenticity" is the fussiest to understand. Just listen to one of the food scene's more talented over-thinkers run a restaurant through his or her analytical atom smasher and you might agree. The quantitative critiques - service, prices, vibe - are all there, but things get weird once culinary credibility undergoes cross-examination. Is it "authentic" to use this sauce? In that soup, is marjoram an "authentic" garnish? Was the pot used to braise tonight's pork wrapped in indigenous leaves, buried beneath loose earth and gently attended by a pitmaster with Taíno ancestry?
January 11, 1995 |
The vending machine inside the door of the Iron Gate Tavern has a small but clearly visible label on its glass front: "Sale of cigarettes to minors is forbidden by law. We support this law. Help prevent and report violations to us. The Management. " The sticker seems an added precaution, because minors are not allowed inside the Eagle Road bar. And if the township finally begins enforcing an ordinance adopted almost three years ago, cigarette vending machines will not be allowed in either.
August 25, 1989 |
Tom Messer, 49, a worker at the Campbell Soup Co. plant in Camden, had been drowning his sorrows at Hank's, a bar a few feet from the plant entrance, on and off all afternoon. He wasn't alone. Scores of other workers who got the ax yesterday lined the red bar stools sharing gossip and misery. Later, they milled around outside the plant entrance, as though they didn't know what else to do, talking about the looming shutdown. The company announced yesterday it will close its manufacturing plant by next July, eliminating 940 jobs.
November 1, 2001 |
A Bensalem man was shot dead by his former stepfather yesterday morning at the small Bristol Pike apartment building where both men lived. Eugene Creely, 38, was found dead with a .30-caliber rifle shot to the head about 9:40 a.m. outside the ground-floor apartment of Frank Petillo Jr., 62, who told police he shot Creely in self-defense. Police found two folding knives at Creely's feet. Petillo, a barber who operates Frank's Barber Shop in the same building, was taken to Frankford Hospital-Torresdale Campus complaining of chest pains.
June 21, 1986 |
Joe Houghton, an unemployed barber raised in Southwest Philadelphia, and his relatives and friends seemed to be jinxed. They said accidents and other mishaps followed them wherever they went. There were falls off bar stools, collisions in traffic, thefts from cars and hotels, lost baggage, slips on sidewalks, entanglements in dog leashes; but Houghton and friends had plenty of insurance to cover their back pain, bruises and lost valuables. So much insurance that Houghton and his wife, Donna, managed to scrape up enough cash to buy a $400,000 home in Plymouth Meeting, a $300,000 beachfront retreat in Sea Isle City, N.J., a Mercedes Benz, a $35,000 yacht, fur coats and more than $100,000 worth of jewelry.
December 22, 1989 |
The Grapevine Cafe is a can't-get-there-from-here outpost that fairly dares customers to find it. Located on a block of Vine Street in Old City, surrounded by "Road Closed" signs and the cratered treachery of the Vine Street project, it opened bravely two weeks ago. The name summons up a cozy wine bar with French lace curtains and a bounty of wines by the glass. Well, it's not that. Inside, the Grapevine is a cavernous club with a dance floor bathed in flashing multicolored lights and three commodious bars.
July 8, 1987 |
The menu offered a list of appetizers, but Lois Vederman was really in the mood to nibble on a neck. Luckily, Neal Cohen had one handy. So, Lois sat on his lap. Neal cocked his head. Night fell. The breeze picked up. The boats rocked gently. And they left, arms around each other. For a little something, there is the Waterside Cafe, an outdoor bar and restaurant that opened last August on the Delaware River, in the shadow of the Ben Franklin Bridge. With it's yellow-and-white striped tent, lanterns, and wooden deck, the Waterside Cafe is a popular evening hangout that holds 400 people, and frequently gets them.