March 26, 2000 |
Author Tom Clancy has given his ex-wife half of his interest in the Baltimore Orioles as part of their divorce agreement. Clancy, who penned such military thrillers as The Hunt for Red October and Patriot Games, and ex-wife Wanda each now own about 12 percent of the team. Clancy was part of an investment group that paid $173 million for the Orioles in 1993. He and his ex-wife are the second-biggest shareholders in the team, behind lawyer Peter Angelos. Wanda Clancy's attorney, Sheila K. Sachs, said her client was always the baseball fan in the Clancy household.
May 14, 1999 |
Thousands of schoolkids and camera-happy tourists flock each year to Carpenters' Hall, the Georgian treasure in Independence National Historical Park, and many of them have the same question: Is this what it looked like when the First Continental Congress made history there in 1774? From the outside, yes. But on the inside, Patrick Henry and the other colonial-era VIPs wouldn't recognize the place. "This building started as a plain meeting hall that was just about finished when the Continental Congress walked in the front door," curator Ruth M. O'Brien says.
July 16, 1998 |
It took less than 100 days. Ten percent of Philadelphia's population died in the yellow fever epidemic that devastated this city in 1793. Memories of that disaster spurred Congress to create the Public Health Service 200 years ago: July 16, 1798. The small corps of physicians - the first group of federal employees who had to meet testing requirements to be hired - was charged with caring for merchant marines. We've relegated yellow fever to the history books, but the Public Health Service continues to be a not-so-silent partner in our challenge to the hazards that put our lives at risk every day. Across the street from Independence Hall, not far from the final resting place of many victims of that long-ago epidemic, the PHS wages its battle from the regional office of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.
June 29, 1998 |
Anita Batman says she takes patients with her when she attends meetings as the mid-Atlantic region's top public health official. Not literally, of course. But memories of them. There's the 12-year-old prostitute whose first three babies were delivered by Batman, who worked for years as a Mississippi country doctor. There's the mentally retarded girl who was molested by her father. There's the mother and daughter whose legs were severely injured by the woman's husband. She has happier memories, too, such as the premature baby who thrived and came to think of the "M.D.
June 14, 1994 |
DOLLEY Rita Mae Brown (Bantam / $22.95) Philadelphia, the City of Firsts, has yet to send a native son to the White House. But one of its adopted daughters, Dolley Madison, has more than compensated for that deficit. The first lady from Philadelphia, by way of Virginia, is brought to life in a vivid novel by Rita Mae Brown. The book is the product of Brown's lifelong fascination with the early American heroine. "I think my affinity for Dolley started because of her incredible courage," Brown said in a recent interview.
November 2, 1993 |
That chill wind that howled through window and tree all day yesterday was more than just a harbinger of winter. It was an echo of another cold snap 200 years ago - a frost that ended three months of disease and death in the City of Brotherly Love. The yellow fever epidemic of 1793 laid waste to the young republic's capital and largest city. It killed 5,000 of the Philadelphia area's 50,000 residents and sickened thousands more. About half the rest fled, including George Washington, Pennsylvania Gov. Thomas Mifflin, and others who could afford to leave.
November 1, 1993 |
Philadelphia has endured a lot of trauma: British occupation, anti- Catholic bloodshed, Spanish flu, Red scares, race riots, Mafia wars, MOVE wars, AIDS. But nothing approaches the devastation, drama and threat to the city's existence as the great yellow-fever epidemic of 1793. During late summer and fall of that year, commerce and government practically ceased. Half the population fled while 5,000 died. Just burying the victims was a challenge in a city paralyzed by fear.
September 27, 1993 |
Laid up? Feeling weak, nauseous? Got a splitting headache? Vomiting dark matter? Gums bleeding? Eyes and skin taking on a yellow tinge? If this were 200 years ago in Philadelphia, the diagnosis would be easy. You had yellow fever like everyone else. What to do? Well, if this was 1793 you might call in Dr. William Currie with his cautious, conservative treatment: Take tartar emetic in tea or barley water every half hour until you vomit. Take salt of tartar in lime juice and barley water or laudanum and ammonia to encourage sweating.
February 1, 1993 |
It was the deadliest, most catastrophic, gut-wrenching event in Philadelphia history. For four months, just about everything else in what was then America's largest city - the capital of a new nation - stopped while the populace either fled in terror, died or fought for their lives. This year marks the 200th anniversary of the worst yellow-fever outbreak on the East Coast. Many local historians find the late summer and fall of 1793 the most fascinating and dramatic period in city history.
April 7, 1989 |
It's the 18th century and we're taking a walk down Walnut Street from - oh, say, around the Penn Mutual Building to the Ritz Five theaters, then on to Penn's Landing. We've rented a tape cassette for Nancy Gilboy's do-it-at-your-own-pace AudioWalk & Tour, so we know that we're walking on cobblestones, through horse manure and garbage (the habit being to throw waste in the streets, a tradition that will continue), and past a peach orchard in Independence Square, known as State House Yard.