
Today in Chicago History: Italian Gen. Italo Barbo leads 24 seaplanes in splash down at Navy Pier
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Weather records (from the National Weather Service, Chicago)
1850: Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini — the first American saint — was born in Italy. The youngest of 13 children of Italian farmers, she dreamed of serving as a missionary. Her poor health, however, meant she was rejected by several orders. That's why Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini — who was born 175 years ago this month — founded her own, Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
Pope Leo XIII encouraged Cabrini to expand her mission to the United States.
Vintage Chicago Tribune: Mother Cabrini's Chicago milestones on her path to sainthood
When she arrived in America, Cabrini didn't speak English and was told by the archbishop of New York that her trip was a mistake. Yet Cabrini persisted and even became a naturalized citizen in 1909.
Before her death in Chicago at age 67, Cabrini founded 67 schools, orphanages, hospitals, convents and places of worship in North and South America. Her order has a presence today on six continents and Cabrini is revered by the faithful as patron saint of immigrants.
1875: Balloonist Washington Donaldson and his passenger, newspaper reporter Newton Grimwood, disappeared during an attempt to cross Lake Michigan in a balloon.
What became of them? 'Unless there shall arrive a speedy and convincing denial, it can be taken as the story of their doom,' the Tribune reported two days later.
1933: Twenty-four seaplanes, led by Italian Gen. Italo Balbo, landed on Lake Michigan near Chicago's Navy Pier for the Century of Progress exposition.
'Seagulls flew ahead of the planes as if to show them how to do it,' wrote a Tribune reporter who watched them pass over the site of Chicago's 1933 World's Fair and the Loop. 'One large gull circled and banked and soared near the planes as they came down lower and lower, facing North and heading for the shelter of the breakwater.'
2018: Sears closed its last store in Chicago.
The Six Corners store, on the edge of Chicago's Portage Park neighborhood, shut its doors for the last time two months shy of its 80th anniversary.
Sears timeline: Rise, fall and restructuring of a Chicago icon over 130 yearsSubscribe to the free Vintage Chicago Tribune newsletter, join our Chicagoland history Facebook group, stay current with Today in Chicago History and follow us on Instagram for more from Chicago's past.
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Business Insider
9 hours ago
- Business Insider
Growing up, I called myself Chinese. A high school project helped me understand the difference.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Ginny Wu, 32, a Taiwanese-American UCLA graduate living in Taiwan. Her words have been edited for length and clarity. For my dad's generation, the American dream was about building a better future for their kids. My uncle was the first in his family to get a green card. He eventually sponsored his siblings, including my dad, to leave Taiwan and move to the US. I was born and raised in the States, and never expected that, decades later, I'd end up moving in the opposite direction — back to Taiwan, where their journey had begun. I grew up in a small town Both of my parents are from Taitung, a rural county in southeastern Taiwan. My paternal grandpa was the county magistrate there, and my grandma ran a rice mill business. My dad moved to America in the late 1970s. A job opportunity brought him to Santa Clara, before he moved to Anaheim and then Texas, where he co-ran a motel and even managed an emu ranch. He traveled back to Taiwan to get married, and in 1988, my mom joined him in the US. I was born and raised in Norco, a small, rural town in Southern California. My dad loved the countryside and bought a house there. The town wasn't very diverse, and I was often one of just a few Asian kids in my class. I feel fortunate that I never really experienced racism growing up. At home, we spoke Mandarin. I hated studying the language as a kid, but now I'm grateful — I use Mandarin every day. An assignment changed the way I view identity Growing up, I didn't think much about what being Asian actually meant. I'd say I was Chinese — partly because we spoke it at home, partly because that's what teachers checked on school forms. That changed in high school, when I started the International Baccalaureate program. I wrote my extended essay on how Japanese colonization shaped Taiwanese identity. None of my previous history classes had covered that Taiwan was occupied by Japan for 50 years — my parents never went through it in depth either But the topic hit home. It helped explain why my dad said Japanese phrases before meals, and why my parents used Japanese loanwords without realizing. Exploring the Japanese influences helped me make sense of it all. Exploring that influence deepened my understanding of Taiwan's story, and my own. That essay planted a seed. A few months after graduating from UCLA with a degree in economics, I was hired by Northrop Grumman, an aerospace and defense company. Over the next four years, I worked as a financial analyst in a professional development program rotation. In my last rotation, I pivoted to a different track, taking on a role as a business process analyst in aerospace systems. Despite having a stable job, I started to feel boxed in. I'd never lived anywhere else, and I wanted to see what life outside Southern California could be like. The first move That desire led me to join Anchor Taiwan, a one-month startup immersion program, in 2018. I took time off work to attend, and it changed everything. Experiencing Taiwan as an adult, without my parents and surrounded by peers, helped me imagine building a life here. By the end of the year, I'd quit my job, packed up, and moved to Taipei. I didn't have a job lined up at first. I enrolled in Mandarin classes while job hunting and eventually landed a role at Taiwan Startup Stadium. That was my entry point into the local tech world. When I told my parents I was moving, my mom wasn't thrilled. Having grown up during financially unstable times in Taiwan, she valued career stability and didn't love the idea of me quitting. But she also knew I hadn't felt fulfilled. While they weren't exactly enthusiastic, they were supportive. I was lucky to have extended family in Taiwan — I stayed at my aunt's place while getting settled. I also applied for full Taiwanese citizenship so I could vote and now have my Taiwan ID. Taipei reshaped me I used to be a homebody, like my parents, but the city has drawn out a more social, spontaneous side. My closest friends are mostly locals who speak incredible English, and I feel more connected to my extended family than ever. Work-wise, the transition's actually been smoother than I thought. I'm not at a traditional local company, though — I've heard those can be pretty hierarchical and intense. Taipei has pushed me out of my bubble in the best way. It's clean, convenient, and safe. I walk or bike alone at night without a second thought. I take the bus to work, meet friends for dinner or to go rock climbing, and sometimes jog around the track near my office. Of course, there are things I miss about the US. My parents — now in their 70s and 80s — are still there, and they've never visited me in Taiwan. But I used to get anxious about the smallest things, like mailing a package or ordering a meal. Now, I navigate life in a new language, in a system I didn't grow up in. I've built something from scratch, and that feels like home. I dream of launching a business here one day.


Hamilton Spectator
11 hours ago
- Hamilton Spectator
Award-winning AP photographer Bob Daugherty captured history with speed and persistence
SPRINGFIELD, Ill. (AP) — Robert A. Daugherty, whose four-decade career with The Associated Press captured history including President Lyndon B. Johnson writing the speech in which he declined reelection, Richard Nixon flashing 'V for Victory' signs before leaving the White House in disgrace and Jimmy Carter clasping hands with Middle East leaders after cementing a peace treaty, has died after a lengthy illness. He was 86. Daugherty, the son of sharecroppers who shined shoes for spare change in his youth, died Monday in Noblesville, Indiana, his wife Stephanie said. He was born Jan. 16, 1939 in a three-room wooden house in rural Kentucky. In a 43-year career, he covered nine presidents, 22 political conventions, the Watergate hearings, the Paris Peace Talks over the Vietnam War, the Gulf War and presidential trips overseas. He also covered dozens of high-stakes sporting events including the Olympic Games, Masters Tournaments, and Kentucky Derby races. J. David Ake, who retired as AP's director of photography, said Daugherty — who went by Bob — also became a 'tack-sharp leader' focused on helping AP photojournalists do their best work. 'His goal was to make everyone who worked with him or for him better,' Ake said. 'Because he understood what it took to make a good frame and get it on the wire, no matter what, he was always there to lend a hand, make a suggestion, or just run interference. And it didn't hurt; he was the kindest man you will ever meet.' Daugherty learned the power of photography early as he distributed a community newspaper to local farmers. He later recalled one of the recipients telling him, 'You know I can't read, but I sure like the pictures.' After the family moved to Marion, Indiana, Daugherty shot pictures for his high school yearbook, which led to a job with the local Marion Chronicle-Tribune. He next worked at the Indianapolis Star, where he met Stephanie Hoppes, a staff writer. They were married on Dec. 7, 1963. With no money to pay for college, Daugherty later said, 'I earned my junior college degree at the Marion Chronicle, bachelor's degree at the Star and master's with The Associated Press.' Although the couple traveled extensively in retirement, Stephanie Daugherty said she never accompanied her husband on his overseas work trips, such as Nixon's groundbreaking visit to China in 1972. 'He was very dedicated to doing his best and he didn't want me as a distraction,' she said. Persistence, timing and speed were keys to Daugherty's success in Washington with the AP. Hearing that Johnson was writing a speech on a Saturday in the spring of 1968, Daugherty badgered a press aide until he was let in to shoot a haggard, open-collared LBJ writing the speech declining his party's nomination. Daugherty positioned himself for a straight-on view of Nixon flashing 'V for victory' hand signs at the door to a helicopter on the White House lawn, minutes after becoming the first president to resign in 1974. When Carter grasped the handshake of Israel's Menachem Begin and Egypt's Anwar Sadat after the signing of a 1979 peace treaty between the two countries, Daugherty captured the moment in nearly identical color and black-and-white images. At the time, this required him to use two separate cameras. When Carter visited Kentucky in July 1979, other photographers ditched what was expected to be a routine motorcade to an event at a school. But Daugherty stayed, catching the normally staid Carter seated on top of the presidential limousine to greet well-wishers. He later said that photo was a favorite among all the images he made of U.S. presidents. 'You must stay alert when you're with the president,' Daugherty said. 'You must be prepared.' 'Bob was a legend,' said Pablo Martínez Monsiváis, assistant photo chief for AP's Washington bureau. Asked about an iconic photograph, Daugherty would describe all the planning that went into the shot or simply say, 'I got lucky.' 'If anyone was lucky, it was me who got to work with him,' Monsiváis recalled. Among other awards, Daugherty won the Oliver S. Gramling Award, AP's highest journalism honor, in 1999. In 2009, the White House News Photographers Association presented him with a Lifetime Achievement Award and in 2015 he was inducted into the Indiana Journalism Hall of Fame by the Indiana Chapter of the Society of Professional Journalists. He was also a soccer coach and swim-meet official for his son John, said his wife, and in retirement never missed a chance to watch the sun set over the Morse Reservoir, where the couple lived. Error! Sorry, there was an error processing your request. There was a problem with the recaptcha. Please try again. You may unsubscribe at any time. By signing up, you agree to our terms of use and privacy policy . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google privacy policy and terms of service apply. Want more of the latest from us? Sign up for more at our newsletter page .


Washington Post
11 hours ago
- Washington Post
Award-winning AP photographer Bob Daugherty captured history with speed and persistence
SPRINGFIELD, Ill. — Robert A. Daugherty, whose four-decade career with The Associated Press captured history including President Lyndon B. Johnson writing the speech in which he declined reelection, Richard Nixon flashing 'V for Victory' signs before leaving the White House in disgrace and Jimmy Carter clasping hands with Middle East leaders after cementing a peace treaty, has died after a lengthy illness. He was 86. Daugherty, the son of sharecroppers who shined shoes for spare change in his youth, died Monday in Noblesville, Indiana, his wife Stephanie said. He was born Jan. 16, 1939 in a three-room wooden house in rural Kentucky. In a 43-year career, he covered nine presidents, 22 political conventions, the Watergate hearings, the Paris Peace Talks over the Vietnam War, the Gulf War and presidential trips overseas. He also covered dozens of high-stakes sporting events including the Olympic Games, Masters Tournaments, and Kentucky Derby races. J. David Ake, who retired as AP's director of photography, said Daugherty — who went by Bob — also became a 'tack-sharp leader' focused on helping AP photojournalists do their best work. 'His goal was to make everyone who worked with him or for him better,' Ake said. 'Because he understood what it took to make a good frame and get it on the wire, no matter what, he was always there to lend a hand, make a suggestion, or just run interference. And it didn't hurt; he was the kindest man you will ever meet.' Daugherty learned the power of photography early as he distributed a community newspaper to local farmers. He later recalled one of the recipients telling him, 'You know I can't read, but I sure like the pictures.' After the family moved to Marion, Indiana, Daugherty shot pictures for his high school yearbook, which led to a job with the local Marion Chronicle-Tribune. He next worked at the Indianapolis Star, where he met Stephanie Hoppes, a staff writer. They were married on Dec. 7, 1963. With no money to pay for college, Daugherty later said, 'I earned my junior college degree at the Marion Chronicle, bachelor's degree at the Star and master's with The Associated Press.' Although the couple traveled extensively in retirement, Stephanie Daugherty said she never accompanied her husband on his overseas work trips, such as Nixon's groundbreaking visit to China in 1972. 'He was very dedicated to doing his best and he didn't want me as a distraction,' she said. Persistence, timing and speed were keys to Daugherty's success in Washington with the AP. Hearing that Johnson was writing a speech on a Saturday in the spring of 1968, Daugherty badgered a press aide until he was let in to shoot a haggard, open-collared LBJ writing the speech declining his party's nomination. Daugherty positioned himself for a straight-on view of Nixon flashing 'V for victory' hand signs at the door to a helicopter on the White House lawn, minutes after becoming the first president to resign in 1974. When Carter grasped the handshake of Israel's Menachem Begin and Egypt's Anwar Sadat after the signing of a 1979 peace treaty between the two countries, Daugherty captured the moment in nearly identical color and black-and-white images. At the time, this required him to use two separate cameras. When Carter visited Kentucky in July 1979, other photographers ditched what was expected to be a routine motorcade to an event at a school. But Daugherty stayed, catching the normally staid Carter seated on top of the presidential limousine to greet well-wishers. He later said that photo was a favorite among all the images he made of U.S. presidents. 'You must stay alert when you're with the president,' Daugherty said. 'You must be prepared.' 'Bob was a legend,' said Pablo Martínez Monsiváis, assistant photo chief for AP's Washington bureau. Asked about an iconic photograph, Daugherty would describe all the planning that went into the shot or simply say, 'I got lucky.' 'If anyone was lucky, it was me who got to work with him,' Monsiváis recalled. Among other awards, Daugherty won the Oliver S. Gramling Award, AP's highest journalism honor, in 1999. In 2009, the White House News Photographers Association presented him with a Lifetime Achievement Award and in 2015 he was inducted into the Indiana Journalism Hall of Fame by the Indiana Chapter of the Society of Professional Journalists. He was also a soccer coach and swim-meet official for his son John, said his wife, and in retirement never missed a chance to watch the sun set over the Morse Reservoir, where the couple lived.