The Caesar Salad Is Not an American Creation
From Nation, For Nation - Pulse of the Nation
Black Holes Are Neither Black, Nor Holes; So What Are They?
Pele's Curse: The Hawaiian Goddess Punishes Thieves
The Curse of Goddess Pele
“My life literally fell apart,” he said. One minute, he was an employed, law-abiding citizen and the next, he was sitting in a federal penitentiary. He couldn’t figure out what had happened.
The FBI agents who questioned him said they never arrest people for what he did. They told him, “You really must have upset someone.”
He had. Timothy Murray of Florida had gone to Hawaii to accept a new job. When the job fell through, he took a trip to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island. Like thousands before him, Mr. Murray was captivated by the black sand beaches and did what many other tourists often do…take some of that beautiful sand home as a souvenir.
Over the next three years, Mr. Murray’s life began to unravel. His beloved pet died. He and his fiancé broke up. He began to drink too much and finally, FBI agents, who said they had been tracking him from Hawaii, arrested him in a computer copyright infringement case.
Mr. Murray blames Pele-the Goddess of Volcanoes and Fire-who is renowned for her violent temper. Legend has it that her home, Mount Kilauea, is one of the Earth’s most active volcanoes. Pele considers volcanic rocks, black sand, and pumice to be her children and casts the weight of her wrath on those who remove any from the islands.
All Kinds of Stuff
Each year, postmasters at the Hawaii Volcanoes National Park station and other local post offices receive thousands of pounds of mail often addressed to Queen Pele. It comes from people all over the world who write that they’ve had bad luck or calamities since returning home with their Hawaiian treasures and now want to return the offending items. They often ask for forgiveness and pray that once they send the items back to Pele, she will lift her curse so they can have their lives back.
One postmaster who opens Pele’s mail says much of what is sent back is not even from Hawaii! Once they received what looked like a slag from someone’s furnace. They’ve gotten ceramic tiki heads, as well as bottles and containers filled with assorted wares and whatnots.
“Please take this sand and put it back somewhere on your island,” Mr. Murray wrote when he returned his sand. “I’ve had very bad luck since it came into my life and I am very sorry I took it. Please forgive me and I pray that once I send it back where it comes from, my bad luck will go away.” Letters like this arrive every month.
A Wrath or a Myth?
According to a park ranger at the Kilauea Visitor Center, the “curse” has no basis in Hawaiian culture. The claim is traced back to early tour guides and park rangers who wanted to discourage visitors from removing rocks. Some say it is the power of suggestion. That people get sick or experience a misfortune and then remember at some point, years earlier, they took a rock from the volcano.
But then again…is it simply just a myth? A mere claim by workers tired of visitors depleting Hawaii’s beautiful strands of rock and sand? Or is the curse for real?
Either way, would you be willing to take the chance of upsetting Pele, the notorious Goddess of Fire? I believe not.
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From Globe, For Globe - Pulse of the Planet
They refused to sell, even if they were only left with half a house!
In a town with intriguingly built structures like the Cube House, the Elephant House, and the Doll House, it could be said that nothing is as odd as the appropriately-named Half House.
Built sometime in the late 19th century, a Victorian-era row house was constructed on St. Patrick Street in the middle of Toronto. The house was one of six identical and connected homes on what was then called Dummer Street, and they were numbered like this: 52 1/2, 54, 54 1/2, 56, 58, and 60.
It seemed as if the planners were predicting the future. Because when the rest of the buildings were torn down, only one remained: 54 ½-which really just looks like half of a building anyway.
Built between 1890 and 1893, the street was originally blighted with poverty. But over the next five decades, developers bought up most of the structures and the roads were given new names. Owners complained of the aggressive tactics used to obtain the properties, as one told the local newspaper he had received as many as 300 requests in a year.
Little by little, each of the houses were demolished as owners gave in and sold. But one owner-the Valkos family at 54 ½ St. Patrick-never did.
So, when the time came, developers tore down the surrounding (and connected) properties, which meant they literally sliced and diced, disconnecting the 54 ½ property from the rest, giving it a look like one whole house had been cut in two.
And it was all a very dangerous undertaking. Because of load-bearing walls dividing the neighbors’ bedrooms, it was said that just one miscalculation on the part of the demo team could have resulted in the destruction of the Half House as well.
It also wasn’t a perfect job. The owners at the time-Emily Brown, daughter of the Valkoses, and her husband-wrote letters to city officials complaining that rain would seep into their homes due to the demolition. There were also arguments over the insulation, as well as the finish on the outside of their home.
But when it was all said and done, only one structure remained-theirs.
By 1975, The Village by the Grange Housing Project opened just next to the Half House, giving it another odd appearance-a half of a house next to a full housing project. And that’s the way it has stayed for decades.
Emily Brown eventually moved into a nursing home in 2012, and she sold the property to Albert Zikovitz, who worked in an adjacent office building. Brown passed away last year at the age of 82. Neighbors said the Browns were well-known and liked throughout the neighborhood.
Today, the building is still privately owned and vacant, still looking like some kind of casualty from a messy divorce. The current assessed value, according to city officials, is $648,000.
City officials confirmed with the local newspaper that demolitions of semi-detached houses can still be carried out today, providing the right permits are issued, walls are repaired and insulated, and basements are waterproofed.
No matter what, it’ll still look like a job that’s half-finished.
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