
LA Times Today: Pope Leo XVI is the first pope from the U.S. in Catholic Church's 2,000 year history
Pope Leo XVI is the first American pope in the 2,000 year history of the Roman Catholic Church.
The CEO and publisher of National Catholic Reporter Joe Ferullo joined Lisa Mcree with his reaction.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
2 hours ago
- Yahoo
My home was destroyed by an everyday appliance — don't let the same tragedy happen to you
Tanya Bennett's life was literally left in ruins after she received a shocking call on June 9. 'I was at work and the neighbour called to say my house was on fire and she'd called the fire brigade,' Bennett told NeedToKnow. The 36-year-old had cleaned her home in Telford, England, the night prior to the fire, and unknowingly left a vacuum cleaner plugged in overnight. 'I couldn't believe it when the firefighters said it was caused by the vacuum cleaner.' After receiving the call from her eagle-eyed neighbor, Bennett raced home, concerned about her three dogs — French bulldogs Lewi, Monkey, and Cockapoo Luna. When she arrived, she found her house completely engulfed in flame and was distressed to learn that only one dog, who had been shut in the kitchen, had been recovered at that point. Bennett explained that the door to the kitchen had been shut, blocking the spread of the fire, and leaving it the only room in the house that wasn't damaged by flame, smoke, or soot. 'The other two dogs were trapped upstairs by the smoke,' Bennett recalled. 'It was heartbreaking. I was screaming and crying, and they brought the dogs out one by one.' 'I'm absolutely devastated, helpless and in shock,' she said. After the fire was put out, Bennett entered the house to assess the damage. 'All the furniture is covered in soot, the TV cabinet is melted, and all of my drawers of clothes are covered in soot. Basically, every single item in my house is covered by smoke. There's not one single item that is not. I need to replace everything, and it will cost thousands,' she said. 'The whole house needs specialist cleaning, and I can't go in without PPE.' While the Telford home is being repaired, cleaned, and inspected for safety, Bennett has been left homeless and is currently residing in a temporary accommodation. The three dogs, all alive and safe after the incident, have been left in the care of a friend in the meantime. 'I didn't think that a vacuum cleaner could even catch fire. How much damage it's caused is crazy. Apparently, the dust particles inside are very combustible,' Bennett reflected. 'Just turn everything off at the wall or unplug appliances,' she advised. 'Even though the electrics tripped and cut off, it didn't matter as the fire still continued once it had sparked.' While experts at the National Fire Protection Association (NFPA) advise unplugging motor-reliant appliances to avoid overheating and electrical fires, the agency also warns that battery-powered vacuums, which are becoming increasingly more common in American households, and appliances are often at risk of sudden ignition.
Yahoo
4 hours ago
- Yahoo
Commentary: Why nostalgia for the 1950s of ‘Leave it to Beaver' persists in America's religious right
Anyone looking to drench themselves in the 1950s nostalgia currently favored by the religious right in America should consider watching 'Leave It to Beaver' stoned. Which is what I did with an old friend in the 1980s while attending graduate school at the University of California-Berkeley. Nostalgia for the '50s — that land beyond time where Catholic traditionalists such as Notre Dame political theorist and post-liberal prophet Patrick Deneen dwell — idealizes imaginary communities of yore such as Mayfield, the setting for 'Leave it to Beaver,' where the values of faith, family, friends and flag all flourished. According to this narrative, late-stage liberalism and the globalization of markets, with their characteristic rootlessness, dissolve this communal existence. When I was at Berkeley in the 1980s, a large number of my childhood friends from Princeton, New Jersey, somehow found their way to the Bay Area. One afternoon, one of my Princeton buddies was house-sitting for an uncle in a Bay Area suburb. The uncle, whom I'll call Uncle Jim, had been my Cub Scout pack leader in Princeton when I was in elementary school. One sun-drenched afternoon, my friend and I settled into a couch, he rolled some joints and we flipped the TV to 'Leave It to Beaver' reruns. The series, on the air from 1957 and 1963, is a resonant symbol of '50s nostalgia, one to which conservative Catholics have returned as a template for modeling natural law. To Catholics who moved to the suburbs in the '50s and '60s, 'Leave It to Beaver' was a 'medieval morality play,' as Jerry Mathers, the Catholic actor who played young protagonist Theodore 'Beaver' Cleaver, put it. The show was a guide for young souls more tethered to television than to the suburban church. Michael De Sapio, writing in the online journal The Imaginative Conservative in 2017, states that, according to Mather, Beaver Cleaver 'repeatedly succumbed to temptation, suffered the consequences, and was guided back on the path of virtue.' In other words, these archetypal storylines and characters represent a moral imagination that 'elevates us to first principles as it guides us upwards towards virtue and wisdom and redemption,' in the words of American philosopher Russell Kirk. De Sapio continues: 'The emphasis on decorum and good manners in the Cleaver family conveyed a vision of the good, true and beautiful.' Mathers shared that the casting directors for the show selected him to play Beaver when they asked where he would prefer to be after they noticed he was uneasy at the audition. His guileless reply: his Cub Scouts den meeting. Notably, the mission of the Scouts is to 'prepare young people to make ethical and moral choices over their lifetimes by instilling in them the values of the Scout Oath and Law.' Which returns us to Uncle Jim, my former Cub Scouts leader. He was an electrical engineer who ended his first marriage and moved to California in the 1970s, where he married a woman several decades younger and shed the trappings of his formerly decorous identity. 'Leave It to Beaver' mirrored and shaped the aspirations of millions of Catholics moving to the suburbs after World War II, and it has lingered as an idealized — and exclusive — depiction of the American Dream. The only nonwhite characters to appear in the show's 234 episodes were a Black man exiting a dairy truck in the episode 'Eddie, the Businessman' (1962) and a Black actress who plays a maid in the 1963 episode 'The Parking Attendants.' Within months of its final episode in June 1963 — following the March on Washington, D.C., in August led by the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and the November assassination of President John F. Kennedy — 'Leave It to Beaver' had become a charming artifact of mid-century optimism, more a product of nostalgia and romantic imagination than a realistic model for America's future. _____ Peter H. Schwartz writes at the broad intersection of philosophy, politics, history and religion. He publishes the Wikid World newsletter on Substack. _____
Yahoo
10 hours ago
- Yahoo
Hear that big BOOM? It could be the Tooele Army Depot detonating aging munitions
RUSH VALLEY, Tooele County — U.S. Army Col. Luke Clover promised a van full of reporters Wednesday that they will never forget the shock waves propagated by the open detonations that they had gathered to observe. The explosions, as the colonel promised, were loud. They were teeth-rattling. As good soldiers say: 'That's affirmative, sir.' But Wednesday's media day at the Tooele Army Depot — aka TEAD — was about more than sending local journalists back to their newsrooms with a fun and 'detonating' dispatch. Clover and his associates are anxious to share the purposes behind the army depot's open detonations that folks across multiple Utah counties often hear — and feel. 'We want to share with the community what's going on out here … and to let everyone know what's going on out here in support of the national defense and the United States Military,' said Clover, who commands the 83-year-old depot. Tooele Army Depot personnel, the colonel added, are performing essential missions. First, as part of the U.S. Army's Joint Munitions Command, the ammunitions base conducts safe and environmentally responsible destruction of surplus or obsolete ammunition. 'We have a lot of World War II-era munitions that come through here for demilitarization that are no longer useful. Or there are munitions here that have been deemed hazardous or unsafe to use for our service members,' said Clover. Tooele Army Depot also maintains munitions — performing surveillance tests to ensure that the military weapons are safe for use. 'And when they're found to be unsafe, unstable or not operating in the way that they're supposed to, then they're deemed ready for demilitarization,' added Clover. Disposing of obsolete munitions also frees up storage space for modern munitions. Established in 1942 while World War II was raging, the Tooele Army Depot is tasked with receiving, storing, maintaining, shipping, modifying and, of course, demilitarizing conventional munitions. The depot also specializes in ammunition equipment prototype design, development and fabrication. The weather and dry conditions found in Utah's West Desert region seems factory-made for the work being performed at the base. Some depots in other, more humid areas of the country must deal with moisture seeping into their earth-covered magazines and storage areas. 'But the environment here is perfect for that mission … to help maintain the longevity of the stockpiles,' said Clover. The region's natural environmental features can also help mitigate disasters, said Erin Trinchitella, Tooele Army Depot's industrial operations director. 'Part of our environment here, as you could see today, is soil,' she said. 'So if there is an accidental explosion, the soil here … helps absorb that.' Wednesday's media day occurred at a historic moment for the American military: Saturday, June 14, is the 250th anniversary of the U.S. Army. 'We are extremely proud of the job that we do in support of not only the Department of Defense's munitions enterprise mission, but also the overall mission of the United States Army and the other uniformed services: The U.S. Air Force, Navy, Space Force, Marines and Coast Guard,' said Clover. 'We work with all of them, and we handle and maintain the munitions for all of those services.' Depot officials say they are eager to be good neighbors in the Tooele County community and beyond. To help keep local officials and residents abreast of daily detonation activities, Tooele Army Depot dispatches frequent emails alerting local jurisdictions of the day's operations. Subsequent posts are added to the base's social media platforms — including Facebook, Instagram and X. There's even a 'noise complaint' hotline: 435-833-3300. 'We give people as much notice as possible that we are going to be detonating that day — and, along with that notification, we also include information for people to provide us with a noise report,' said public affairs officer Wade Matthews. 'We're not afraid to take that information … we can use that information for making adjustments, if necessary.' Lonnie Brown, Tooele Army Depot's environmental management division chief, said the depot works 'hand-in-hand' with Utah's Department of Environmental Quality, the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and the Army to ensure environmental protections. 'We have several audits to verify that we meet within our permit standards — and we're being reviewed several times a year to make sure that those standards are met,' said Brown. The depot also performs ecological studies to help protect local wildlife — while sponsoring several projects to benefit species such as the Burrowing owls. Tooele Army Depot also works with the EPA to test and monitor groundwater wells. 'We find that there's no significant impact on these wells,' said Brown. On Wednesday, reporters were given a rare glimpse of the lunar-like landscapes that double as explosion pits — and the precise task of preparing obsolete munitions for destruction. Crews prepare the 'donor' munitions before burying it in the explosion pit under at least seven feet of soil. The range area is then cleared and firing lines are tied and finalized. Detonation specialists, safely housed in a 'shooter shack' located several hundred meters away from the blast site, manage all of the firing lines utilizing a lock box that's connected to a firing panel, which triggers the detonation. Specialists executed several detonations Wednesday, with the 'assistance' of several reporters.