This picture says it all.
… Well, at least the three words visible to the right of Jay Carney’s head say it all.
And we wonder why kids nowadays have little interest in science – if their experiments result in anything more spectacular than a popped soap bubble, they’re treated like Ted Kaczynski.
From Miami New Times:
Kiera Wilmot got good grades and had a perfect behavior record. She wasn’t the kind of kid you’d expect to find hauled away in handcuffs and expelled from school, but that’s exactly what happened after an attempt at a science project went horribly wrong.
On 7 a.m. on Monday, the 16 year-old mixed some common household chemicals in a small 8 oz water bottle on the grounds of Bartow High School in Bartow, Florida. The reaction caused a small explosion that caused the top to pop up and produced some smoke. No one was hurt and no damage was caused.
According to WTSP, Wilmot told police that she was merely conducting a science experiment. Though her teachers knew nothing of the specific project, her principal seems to agree.
“She made a bad choice. Honestly, I don’t think she meant to ever hurt anyone,” principal Ron Pritchard told the station. “She wanted to see what would happen [when the chemicals mixed] and was shocked by what it did. Her mother is shocked, too.”
After the explosion Wilmot was taken into custody by a school resources officer and charged with possession/discharge of a weapon on school grounds and discharging a destructive device. She will be tried as an adult.
She was then taken to a juvenile assessment center. She was also expelled from school and will be forced to complete her diploma through an expulsion program.
Polk County School released the following statement:
Anytime a student makes a bad choice it is disappointing to us. Unfortunately, the incident that occurred at Bartow High School yesterday was a serious breach of conduct. In order to maintain a safe and orderly learning environment, we simply must uphold our code of conduct rules. We urge our parents to join us in conveying the message that there are consequences to actions. We will not compromise the safety and security of our students and staff.
The entire arrest report can be found here. However, I found this little snippet particularly interesting:
I THEN CONTACTED ASSISTANT STATE ATTORNEY TAMMY GLOTFELTY VIA TELEPHONE. I ADVISED A.S.A. GLOTFELTY OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF THE CASE AND SHE ADVISED THIS OFFICER TO FILE THE CHARGES OF, POSSESSING OR DISCHARGING WEAPONS OR FIREARMS AT A SCHOOL SPONSORED EVENT OR ON SCHOOL PROPERTY F.S.S. 790.115 (1) AND MAKING, POSSESSING, THROWING, PROJECTING, PLACING, OR DISCHARGING ANY DESTRUCTIVE DEVICE F.S.S. 790.161 (A).
WILMOT WAS CHARGED WITH THE ABOVE CHARGES VIA AFFIDAVIT AND TAKEN TO THE JUVENILE ASSESSMENT CENTER WHERE SHE WAS TURNED OVER TO STAFF. I COMPLETED A COST AFFIDAVIT AND PROPERTY RECEIPT FOR THE PLASTIC BOTTLE. THE BOTTLE WAS IMPOUNDED AS EVIDENCE. (Emphasis mine)
Glotfelty… Hmm. Why does that name seem familiar?
Ah, yes. She was the prosecutor in an accidental death case, just one month before.
From The Ledger:
Taylor Richardson, 13, who shot and killed his 10-year-old brother, Skyler, with a BB gun, will not face criminal charges.
The prosecutor who reviewed the case calls it “a tragic accident.”
The boy’s mother and her boyfriend also will not be charged in the March 13 shooting.
“Our office has considered this case, keeping in mind that (Taylor) is 13 years of age and is a student at Roosevelt Academy,” a letter forwarded Thursday from Assistant State Attorney Tammy Glotfelty to Polk County Sheriff’s Detective Ernest Fulcher said. Fulcher investigated the shooting.
“After a thorough review of the facts, available to our office at this time, it is our opinion that this case can only be seen as a tragic accident,” Glotfelty wrote.
So let me get this straight:
A child points a gun six inches away from his brother’s head and pulls the trigger, resulting in his death, and it’s a tragic accident. I agree. It’s something no one ever wants to happen.
But a child with a hitherto perfect behavior record mixes together two chemicals that shouldn’t be, resulting in an explosion no greater than a bottle rocket, with no injuries and no property damage, and it’s a criminal offense.
Welcome to Bizzaro World.
If you are familiar with the name Kermit Gosnell, then you know what this photo represents.
If you have never heard of Kermit Gosnell, this photo explains why.
Kermit Gosnell is a “doctor” who has operated two abortion practices in the Philadelphia area from 1972 to 2011 (effectively, ever since Roe v. Wade), and is currently on trial in Philadelphia. He has been charged with eight counts of murder resulting from his practice – one was a patient who died under his care, and seven others were infants said to have been killed after being born alive.
The details coming from this trial are incredibly gruesome. Nurses who have worked in his practice have come forward, calling his clinic a “House of Horrors”, describing in horrifying detail brutal methods they witnessed Gosnell use to end the life of unwanted children. Photos have been released depicting the aftermath of such procedures.
This trial has prompted the investigation of other such abortion clinics. Many of these other clinics have been found to use these same or similar gruesome procedures. A once apathetic public has begun to shine a new, brighter light on the abortion industry, exposing a brutal side that pro-choice supporters don’t want seen.
So, to answer your question, the above photo shows the “media row” at the Gosnell trial. It’s where members of news organizations like the Associated Press, Reuters, NY Times, ABC, NBC, CBS, CNN, and MSNBC normally would appear in order to provide coverage of a trial. At the trials of Jared Lee Loughner and James Eagan Holmes, media row was filled to capacity.
For this trial, media row is empty. And although it doesn’t surprise anyone, it is still shocking to see.
A blurry blob on a hospital screen is the first view most expectant parents get of their child.
But new state-of-the-art imaging software is now able to map a fetus in incredible detail.
The software takes a conventional 3D ultrasound scan and adds color, skin texture, lighting and shadows.
See move of these incredible pictures here.
A New York city taxi driver recalls a ride that changed his life:
I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes, I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift, I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.
“Just a minute”, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90′s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940′s movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.
There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.
She kept thanking me for my kindness. “It’s nothing”, I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.”
“Oh. you’re such a good boy,” she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, “Could you drive through downtown?”
“It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.”
I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. “I don’t have any family left,” she continued in a soft voice. “The doctor says I don’t have very long.” I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
“What route would you like me to take?” I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.”
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home with a driveway that passed under a portico.
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.
“Nothing,” I said.
“You have to make a living,” she answered.
“There are other passengers,” I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”
I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life…
I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.
We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us unaware – beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.