Veterans Coming Home
To their children…
and to dogs.
Happy veterans day. More at Mental Floss. (via Alex)
Vestergaard-Frandsen
The company, begun in Denmark 51 years ago to make work uniforms, is now run by Mikkel Vestergaard-Frandsen, the grandson of the founder.
After finishing high school in 1991, he said, he had “no interest in growing the market for men’s shirts.” Instead, he went backpacking through India and Africa, entertaining thoughts of going to Kuwait to fight the oil-field fires set during the gulf war.
Stranded in Egypt, he met two Nigerians who told him he could make good money in their country importing used cars from Europe.
“When you’re 19, you don’t have much of a business plan,” he said. “So I ended up in Lagos, selling cars and truck engines and buses.”
But the chaos of a coup in 1993 sent him back to Denmark.
Meanwhile, his father, Torben, had struck a deal to buy a million yards of old olive-gray wool cloth from Sweden’s civil defense stockpiles.
“Sweden had mountain caves full of everything you need in case of World War III, but they decided the risk was not so great anymore,” the elder Mr. Vestergaard-Frandsen said. “This was for military uniforms. It was good quality, very expensive wool, but it looked so bad that no housewife would have it on her couch.”
Mikkel agreed to take a desk at the back of the factory and work on the next step: having it cut into blankets and sold to the Red Cross. Much of it, he said, ended up in Rwanda and Kurdistan.
From A Company Prospers by Saving Poor People’s Lives at the NY Times. Via Chris.
Mr. Rogers Was Genuinely Curious About Others
Mister Rogers was known as one of the toughest interviews because he’d often befriend reporters, asking them tons of questions, taking pictures of them, compiling an album for them at the end of their time together, and calling them after to check in on them and hear about their families. He wasn’t concerned with himself, and genuinely loved hearing the life stories of others.And it wasn’t just with reporters. Once, on a fancy trip up to a PBS exec’s house, he heard the limo driver was going to wait outside for 2 hours, so he insisted the driver come in and join them (which flustered the host).
On the way back, Rogers sat up front, and when he learned that they were passing the driver’s home on the way, he asked if they could stop in to meet his family. According to the driver, it was one of the best nights of his life the house supposedly lit up when Rogers arrived, and he played jazz piano and bantered with them late into the night. Further, like with the reporters, Rogers sent him notes and kept in touch with the driver for the rest of his life.
Via CNN
Central Washington offers the ultimate act of sportsmanship
Western Oregon senior Sara Tucholsky had never hit a home run in her career. Central Washington senior Mallory Holtman was already her school’s career leader in them. But when a twist of fate and a torn knee ligament brought them face to face with each other and face to face with the end of their playing days, they combined on a home run trot that celebrated the collective human spirit far more than individual athletic achievement.
Full story at ESPN
Post-Traumatic Psychedelic Grunge Jowl
Our new best friends Bradford Cox and Stephanie Macksey flew in from Atlanta and Brian Foote came up from LA and we jammed on some heavy psychedelic grunge that took me back to being in Yume circa 98, played poker, stayed up too late hanging with Rob Walmart, eating various burgers and in general having a blast. Our tour (AKA “Pery Ferral Solo Tour 2002”) is gonna to RULE.
Source: Adam Forkner (godfather of pevz.org)
Darryl C. Didier
Darryl C. Didier
April 29, 1966 — Oct. 31, 2007
[What] I noticed first was what was wrong with him: He walked with a severe limp, his speech was slurred, his face distorted, his motor skills were affected, and he couldn’t hear that well. Our hands missed on the first few handshake attempts.From Signal vs. Noise
But what I noticed next — and will always remember — was everything that was right about him. This guy was incredible. He had troubles, but they didn’t seem to trouble him. His life-is-wonderful outlook was piercing. His optimism became his defining trait. The guy was a fighter and didn’t let anyone tell him he couldn’t do something. He shared his inspiring story at schools, businesses, and prisons. He volunteered his time at his church and local hospital.
Darryl was about 39 when I met him. At 24 he was diagnosed with malignant, terminal brain cancer of the cerebellum and brain stem. The surgery would knock out his memory, movement, and speech. If he survived at all they said he probably wouldn’t walk or talk again. He was told he’d spend his time in a nursing home. But somehow about 15 years later I was meeting him at a coffee shop.
