Situated between the American and Massachusetts flags, Boston Municipal Court judge Carol Ball listens to the defense attorney’s arguments. Empty except for several legal aids, the courtroom remains silent except for the attorney. His client watches over the proceedings in an equally vacant room, broadcast to the court via television set and web-cam.
Arrested on counts of shoplifting, repeat offender David Montgomery was denied a reduced bail today, April 13, 2009.
Originally taken into custody on Wednesday, April 8, Montgomery received a bail of 500 dollars for violating probation and 200 dollars for shoplifting. Defense attorney John Russell appealed the bail sentencing on grounds of insufficient funds, citing the defendant’s unemployment, tenth grade education and current residency at a halfway house.
According to Russell, Montgomery had suffered a drug relapse when arrested, and by Thursday, April 9, retained no recollection of the previous day. Russell explained his client’s diagnosis as manic depressive, and claimed his good behavior following his arrest merited the bail reduction.
The judge then directed the court to Montgomery’s additional offenses. Due in court again on April 22, Montgomery faces shoplifting charges from 18 months ago.
“What do we do?,” Ball asked. “We keep cutting him loose and he keeps doing drugs and shoplifting?”
Ball denied the bail reduction without prejudice, allowing Montgomery to bring his case forward again without a change in circumstances.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Boston.com: A Crash Course in Crash Diets
With bikini season fast approaching, some are turning to fasts for quick weight loss. Despite the popularity of these detoxification cleanses, doctors insist that they do little more than the body's own natural defenses. The best advice for the upcoming summer weather? Eating in moderation, and regular exercise.
Original story:
http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/fashion/articles/2009/04/09/crash_course/?page=1
Original story:
http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/fashion/articles/2009/04/09/crash_course/?page=1
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Obituary: Officer Alex Del Rio
After nine years of dedicated service to the Hollywood Police Department, Officer Alex Del Rio died in a car accident on Nov. 22, 2008.
Amidst bouquets of red and white roses, and a slideshow of smiling pictures, each family member wore a button in remembrance of Del Rio at his funeral. Miriam Fernandez, Del Rio’s mother, was the first to speak.
“You always dreamed of being a police man,” M. Fernandez said. She was supported at the podium by two officers. “You met your many goals and dreams; you served us well; you cared so much that you gave your life to protect us from harm. You gave to others without expecting anything in return.”
Out of the hundreds of friends, family and fellow police officers who attended the funeral, four family members and the Chief of Police spoke. Officer Saul Fernandez, Del Rio’s uncle, shared aspects of their relationship.
“If Alex were here today, he would give you a great big hug and say—and would say, ‘I love you,’” S. Fernandez said. “He gave me that hug in front of anyone, and he would also call me ‘Tío,’ [which means] uncle.”
Chief Chadwick E. Wagner of the Hollywood Police Department reflected on Del Rio’s personality, regarding him as an upbeat person.
“You can’t find anyone who would say a negative thing about Alex, and more importantly, you would never hear Alex say a negative thing about anyone or anything,” Wagner said. “He was a positive person. Alex lived as a role model and a hero, and we’re all better people for knowing him.”
This sentiment, while also expressed through the other speakers, reverberated through the crowd as they nodded their heads, and wiped their eyes.
“I really mean this, from the bottom of my heart, I truly don’t have a bad memory of Alex—only good ones,” S. Fernandez stuttered through tears. “He was not perfect…but he was caring, and a loving human being, who loved his family and friends. Please, in remembrance of Alex today, hug each other, no matter how old, young, or tough you are. And say, ‘I love you Mom, Dad, or friend.’ That would bring a smile to Alex, and to your hearts.”
In an effort to maintain his demeanor, Wagner shifted from side to side as he spoke from behind the podium.
“This is for the entire Del Rio family, I say this from the bottom of my heart,” Wagner said, pausing to compose himself. “When Alex became a part of the Hollywood Police Department family, you became a part of our family… We can’t take Alex’s place, that’s for sure, but we’ll always be here for you, for whatever you need. That, I promise.”
After losing control of his Ford Victoria cruiser, Del Rio slammed rear-first into a tree, and the car burst into flames. A one-car accident, Del Rio died at the scene.
Police are looking for witnesses.
Amidst bouquets of red and white roses, and a slideshow of smiling pictures, each family member wore a button in remembrance of Del Rio at his funeral. Miriam Fernandez, Del Rio’s mother, was the first to speak.
“You always dreamed of being a police man,” M. Fernandez said. She was supported at the podium by two officers. “You met your many goals and dreams; you served us well; you cared so much that you gave your life to protect us from harm. You gave to others without expecting anything in return.”
Out of the hundreds of friends, family and fellow police officers who attended the funeral, four family members and the Chief of Police spoke. Officer Saul Fernandez, Del Rio’s uncle, shared aspects of their relationship.
“If Alex were here today, he would give you a great big hug and say—and would say, ‘I love you,’” S. Fernandez said. “He gave me that hug in front of anyone, and he would also call me ‘Tío,’ [which means] uncle.”
Chief Chadwick E. Wagner of the Hollywood Police Department reflected on Del Rio’s personality, regarding him as an upbeat person.
“You can’t find anyone who would say a negative thing about Alex, and more importantly, you would never hear Alex say a negative thing about anyone or anything,” Wagner said. “He was a positive person. Alex lived as a role model and a hero, and we’re all better people for knowing him.”
This sentiment, while also expressed through the other speakers, reverberated through the crowd as they nodded their heads, and wiped their eyes.
“I really mean this, from the bottom of my heart, I truly don’t have a bad memory of Alex—only good ones,” S. Fernandez stuttered through tears. “He was not perfect…but he was caring, and a loving human being, who loved his family and friends. Please, in remembrance of Alex today, hug each other, no matter how old, young, or tough you are. And say, ‘I love you Mom, Dad, or friend.’ That would bring a smile to Alex, and to your hearts.”
In an effort to maintain his demeanor, Wagner shifted from side to side as he spoke from behind the podium.
“This is for the entire Del Rio family, I say this from the bottom of my heart,” Wagner said, pausing to compose himself. “When Alex became a part of the Hollywood Police Department family, you became a part of our family… We can’t take Alex’s place, that’s for sure, but we’ll always be here for you, for whatever you need. That, I promise.”
After losing control of his Ford Victoria cruiser, Del Rio slammed rear-first into a tree, and the car burst into flames. A one-car accident, Del Rio died at the scene.
Police are looking for witnesses.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Patrick Fahey
With large, thick-rimmed glasses and a black beanie perched lazily on his head, a quiet, scruffy-looking boy shuffles into class with two minutes to spare. Dropping his backpack, Emerson College freshman Patrick Fahey straightens his plaid button-up shirt and slouches in his chair.
Originally from Halifax, Mass., Fahey came to Emerson as a print journalism major.
“I loved that [Emerson] was close to home, because I didn’t want to leave Boston,” Fahey, 18 said. “And I felt it had a really good program for journalism and [I knew that] a lot of successful journalists have come from here; I really couldn’t picture myself somewhere else, especially at this point.”
Fahey’s friend and suitemate, Emerson freshman Patrick McDermott, says that he and Fahey hit it off immediately.
“My first impression of Pat was someone who is chill, funny, really into music, and overall just a nice guy,” McDermott said. “[It] was very accurate and hasn’t changed—just evolved. I now feel like Pat is a very genuine dude and I know when he says something, he really means it.”
Though he’s majoring in print journalism, Fahey’s love of music and film ultimately drive his future career goals, which include writing reviews for magazines such as “Rolling Stone” and “Spin.”
“If I could have it perfect, I would be living either in Boston or L.A. and doing something with music,” Fahey said. “Whether it was working management with bands, or setting up shows, or writing for a major magazine or publication actually making some money.”
His face lighting up at the question, Fahey’s passion for music is immediately evident as he struggles to name his favorite artists.
“I listen to—and I don’t mean to be one of those people that say it—but I really do listen to anything…that requires some serious thought behind it, something well-thought out,” Fahey said. “I would love to cover the Boston music scene because I feel like there are a lot of bands coming out of here that love what they do, and there’s a wide variety of music here that you can sort of mess with.”
One band emerging from Boston is Fahey’s himself, in which he plays the drums, though he did not go into detail.
“I play a lot of different instruments,” Fahey said. “I started when I was younger; I played the piano a little bit and, dorkily enough, played the clarinet, and then in high school I picked up the guitar and drums. I have a band in Boston and write my own stuff too; just stuff on the side—whatever gets done between classes. But [I mainly play] the drums.”
However, Fahey refuses to give up on a career in music journalism, despite his talent and devotion to music itself.
“I’d like to live an experience like the movie ‘Almost Famous,’” Fahey said. “That’s like the epitome of a music journalism story.”
These goals reassure Fahey in his choice of colleges, as well as the multitude of opportunities he believes that Emerson offers him, even outside of his major.
“My favorite thing [about Emerson] is that I feel like I’m never going to run out of interesting things that I could be a part of,” Fahey said. “In high school, when [Emerson representatives] showed us all the majors, I found myself being like, ‘Well, I kind of want to do all of these.’”
Though pleased with his current situation, Fahey laughs at thought of his uncertain future.
“I’ll probably be working my way up a newspaper, writing stories about people’s cats,” Fahey said. “But that’s okay; I can write on my death bed.”
Originally from Halifax, Mass., Fahey came to Emerson as a print journalism major.
“I loved that [Emerson] was close to home, because I didn’t want to leave Boston,” Fahey, 18 said. “And I felt it had a really good program for journalism and [I knew that] a lot of successful journalists have come from here; I really couldn’t picture myself somewhere else, especially at this point.”
Fahey’s friend and suitemate, Emerson freshman Patrick McDermott, says that he and Fahey hit it off immediately.
“My first impression of Pat was someone who is chill, funny, really into music, and overall just a nice guy,” McDermott said. “[It] was very accurate and hasn’t changed—just evolved. I now feel like Pat is a very genuine dude and I know when he says something, he really means it.”
Though he’s majoring in print journalism, Fahey’s love of music and film ultimately drive his future career goals, which include writing reviews for magazines such as “Rolling Stone” and “Spin.”
“If I could have it perfect, I would be living either in Boston or L.A. and doing something with music,” Fahey said. “Whether it was working management with bands, or setting up shows, or writing for a major magazine or publication actually making some money.”
His face lighting up at the question, Fahey’s passion for music is immediately evident as he struggles to name his favorite artists.
“I listen to—and I don’t mean to be one of those people that say it—but I really do listen to anything…that requires some serious thought behind it, something well-thought out,” Fahey said. “I would love to cover the Boston music scene because I feel like there are a lot of bands coming out of here that love what they do, and there’s a wide variety of music here that you can sort of mess with.”
One band emerging from Boston is Fahey’s himself, in which he plays the drums, though he did not go into detail.
“I play a lot of different instruments,” Fahey said. “I started when I was younger; I played the piano a little bit and, dorkily enough, played the clarinet, and then in high school I picked up the guitar and drums. I have a band in Boston and write my own stuff too; just stuff on the side—whatever gets done between classes. But [I mainly play] the drums.”
However, Fahey refuses to give up on a career in music journalism, despite his talent and devotion to music itself.
“I’d like to live an experience like the movie ‘Almost Famous,’” Fahey said. “That’s like the epitome of a music journalism story.”
These goals reassure Fahey in his choice of colleges, as well as the multitude of opportunities he believes that Emerson offers him, even outside of his major.
“My favorite thing [about Emerson] is that I feel like I’m never going to run out of interesting things that I could be a part of,” Fahey said. “In high school, when [Emerson representatives] showed us all the majors, I found myself being like, ‘Well, I kind of want to do all of these.’”
Though pleased with his current situation, Fahey laughs at thought of his uncertain future.
“I’ll probably be working my way up a newspaper, writing stories about people’s cats,” Fahey said. “But that’s okay; I can write on my death bed.”
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Scene
Amidst a sea of sturdy wood tables and plush gray armchairs, only the soft clacking of laptop keys and the occasional turning of a page can be heard in the Emerson College Iwasaki Library. Students sit engrossed in their work, buried under headphones and behind textbooks. One student, his book bag lying forgotten on the floor beside him, dozes in the mid-afternoon sun.
A couple sits a few tables away, the girl on her laptop with large headphones, the boy reading. Head bent, he doesn’t notice when she giggles at her computer screen. Her body leans towards him, chin resting in her left hand.
A boy quietly strides into the room. Carrying only a newspaper, he heads for the nearest armchair and settles in noiselessly. He sits upright, and bounces his foot without rhythm, the movement reverberating through his thin frame and lightly shaking the pages of his paper.
He inhales sharply every once in a while, not quite like a sniffle, but with similar frequency, and appears oblivious to the few students who noticed him. Taking great care, the boy gently folds his paper, and shifts his body slightly.
A Blackberry interrupts—three consecutive, high-pitched notes.
He bounces his foot only to stop, ruffle his paper, and bounce again. Absent-mindedly, he runs his free hand through unwashed, curly brown hair. Does the news of the world distress him? His mouth bears a displeased curl, and his jaw is set firmly to an under bite that appears to have formed out of habit. Scruff ages an otherwise young face, but his mannerisms and posture make his age indeterminable.
Holding his paper up with both hands, he hides behind it. A sharp inhale gives him away.
A Blackberry chirps again, this time a series of descending notes.
The boy does not look up.
A couple sits a few tables away, the girl on her laptop with large headphones, the boy reading. Head bent, he doesn’t notice when she giggles at her computer screen. Her body leans towards him, chin resting in her left hand.
A boy quietly strides into the room. Carrying only a newspaper, he heads for the nearest armchair and settles in noiselessly. He sits upright, and bounces his foot without rhythm, the movement reverberating through his thin frame and lightly shaking the pages of his paper.
He inhales sharply every once in a while, not quite like a sniffle, but with similar frequency, and appears oblivious to the few students who noticed him. Taking great care, the boy gently folds his paper, and shifts his body slightly.
A Blackberry interrupts—three consecutive, high-pitched notes.
He bounces his foot only to stop, ruffle his paper, and bounce again. Absent-mindedly, he runs his free hand through unwashed, curly brown hair. Does the news of the world distress him? His mouth bears a displeased curl, and his jaw is set firmly to an under bite that appears to have formed out of habit. Scruff ages an otherwise young face, but his mannerisms and posture make his age indeterminable.
Holding his paper up with both hands, he hides behind it. A sharp inhale gives him away.
A Blackberry chirps again, this time a series of descending notes.
The boy does not look up.
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