Motorcyclist dead after collision north of downtown Calgary: police
Police said the collision happened at around 4 p.m. at 12th Avenue and Centre Street N. in Crescent Heights.
The motorcyclist was taken to hospital in critical condition, before being pronounced dead, police said.
No information is available on the condition of the other driver.
Traffic at 12th Avenue and Centre Street N. was closed in both directions until further notice, and remained closed as of 7:30 p.m. Friday.
Police are investigating the incident.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Fox News
28 minutes ago
- Fox News
South Carolina Democratic gubernatorial candidate urged to drop out of race after shocking rant
Fox News correspondent Madison Scarpino has the latest on South Carolina Democratic gubernatorial candidate Mullins McLeod's arrest video on 'Fox Report.'


Washington Post
28 minutes ago
- Washington Post
Tensions soar in Serbia as angry protesters clash with police, set fire to party offices
BELGRADE, Serbia — Angry protesters clashed with police in a town in western Serbia and in the capital Belgrade on Saturday as tensions soared further in the Balkan nation following days of violent demonstrations. Wearing scarves over their faces and chanting slogans against President Aleksandar Vucic, a group of young men threw flares at his Serbian Progressive Party offices in Valjevo, some 100 kilometers (60 miles) from the capital Belgrade. They set fire to the party's offices before clashing with riot police in a downtown area.


New York Times
28 minutes ago
- New York Times
Fox News Warrior Takes on Prosecutor Role in Trump's D.C. Crackdown
Jeanine Pirro, the former Fox co-host who took over the U.S. attorney's office in the District of Columbia three months ago, has had a little trouble downshifting her high-rev New York motor to the flat-tire pace of bureaucratic Washington — as anybody within earshot knows. Ms. Pirro, a cable TV celebrity who has not run a prosecutor's office in the iPhone era, has vented her impatience over matters trivial and consequential, be it her difficulty getting free water for her office or grousing about federal and local laws limiting prosecution of young offenders, a consistent complaint of federal law enforcement for years. Like many big-shot outsiders who take on medium-shot government jobs, Ms. Pirro has been aggravated by red tape, particularly requirements that she obtain approval of other officials before taking actions she would have done unilaterally as Westchester County district attorney two decades ago. 'I'll call Bondi!' Ms. Pirro has told staff members when she is frustrated, according to people familiar with her remarks, referring to her friend and boss, Attorney General Pam Bondi. 'I'll call the president!' is what she says when she is really, really frustrated. Ms. Pirro, 74, a longtime friend of President Trump who tried and failed to secure a top Justice Department job during his first term, has embraced her new post with a gravelly gusto and a focus on street crime. For now, she has set aside the partisan bomb throwing that endeared her to the president in the first place, including anti-Muslim slurs and election lies. The tonal change is jarring. Few pro-Trump news personalities have talked more loudly or carried a bigger shtick than Ms. Pirro, whose in-your-face presence earned her a right-wing following and a leather-lunged, Merlot-sloshing caricature on 'Saturday Night Live.' Among her more memorable statements: suggesting Hillary Clinton had 'a lobotomy,' declaring that Biden-era Justice Department officials be 'taken out in handcuffs,' and asserting that voting machines were rigged to sink Mr. Trump's 2020 campaign. The exodus of experienced career prosecutors at the office has continued under her tenure, according to current and former department officials, but morale has stabilized somewhat after the departure of the interim U.S. attorney, Ed Martin, who purged lawyers involved in the Capitol riot prosecutions and targeted Trump enemies for investigations in part to embarrass them. Over the past week, Ms. Pirro has emerged as a central player in a confrontation that will do much to define her legacy and the role of the Justice Department in Mr. Trump's second term: the White House-mandated takeover of the District of Columbia's law enforcement, at a time when violent crime in the city is steadily decreasing but a persistent concern for residents. 'I see too much violent crime being committed by young punks who think they can get together in gangs and crews and beat the hell out of you,' said Ms. Pirro, standing next to Mr. Trump after he announced the takeover this week. The takeover represents the opening of a second political front for Trump-era federal law enforcement, alongside the campaign of retribution spearheaded by Mr. Martin and egged on by the president. In that sense, Ms. Pirro is filling the vacuum left by Rudy Giuliani, standard-bearer of a venerable and potent Republican law-and-order message that casts big cities as lawless war zones, Democrats as enablers of disorder, and conservatives as sensible saviors. It is a message with the potential to resonate beyond Mr. Trump's base: Many in Washington, particularly in communities of color otherwise hostile to the president, remain anxious about public safety. 'A lot of people on the ground still feel that crime is out of control,' said Anthony Coley, who served as a spokesman for Attorney General General Merrick B. Garland. 'That has created an opening for this president to pull off a raw political stunt.' Ms. Pirro's abrupt leap from a panelist on 'The Five' on Fox News, with a salary of $3 million a year, for a job that pays under $200,000 a year, came as little surprise to friends and associates, who say she is eager to return to her prosecutorial roots. Over the years, her hard-earned reputation as a prosecutor has taken a hit as her rhetoric became more vitriolic and on-air assertions more factually dubious. In 2019, she was suspended by Fox after she suggested Representative Ilhan Omar's wearing of a hijab was un-American. In 2021, her falsehoods about the 2020 election put her at the center of Dominion Voting Systems' defamation lawsuit against the network, which resulted in a $787 million settlement. When Republican senators rejected Mr. Martin as the permanent U.S. attorney, Ms. Bondi urged to pick Ms. Pirro, who had years earlier lobbied unsuccessfully to be named deputy attorney general. Soon after, the president called. Ms. Pirro said yes. It was not the first job in the administration she had been offered. Late last year, after Mr. Trump tapped Kash Patel, a podcaster with scant law enforcement experience, to be F.B.I. director, his aides approached Ms. Pirro about becoming his deputy. She told them she had no interest working for Mr. Patel, according to two people familiar with the exchange. If Ms. Pirro hopes to ascend in the department, she has not shared it with people in her orbit. She has defied expectations, common among staff before she arrived, that she would not take the job seriously, or spend her days kibbitzing at the White House. Ms. Pirro has been working long hours, fortified by candy and early-morning workouts; she lives in a rented apartment in Washington during the week and commutes back to her house in Rye, N.Y., on the weekends. She has made it clear she did not approve of Mr. Martin's practice of confining himself to his office and mostly avoiding career staff, whom he generally viewed as deep-state adversaries. 'I'm not Ed Martin,' she pointedly told a local official who complained about her predecessor. She holds daily briefings with division chiefs in the office, circulates among staff and drops in on court proceedings of particular interest to her, including the trial of Shon Hopwood, a Georgetown Law professor convicted last month of assaulting his wife. While Ms. Pirro can be abrasive and distractible (she is prone to peering over the heads of visitors to her office to watch the TV), unlike Mr. Martin she has largely allowed officials to conduct their work without interference, according to several people briefed on her actions. She earned the wary respect of subordinates early in her tenure after a lone gunman fatally shot two Israeli Embassy employees in May outside the Jewish museum in downtown Washington. Ms. Pirro, donning tortoise shell glasses and discarding the flippancy of her persona on 'The Five,' was well briefed, professional and measured. But perception and performance are different things. And one of her biggest challenge is matching her confident public messaging with results, given the mass departures of career prosecutors and support staff. Some were fired by Mr. Martin, others fled. Current and former officials estimate the office has lost one-quarter to one-third of its career staff. Ms. Pirro estimated the losses at '90 prosecutors, 60 investigators and paralegals' during an appearance on Fox this month. She went on to make an extraordinary direct-to-camera pitch: 'If you want a job in the nation's capital in the premier office, the largest U.S. attorney's office, contact me,' she said. Ms. Pirro began her career as a young lawyer in New York City's northern suburbs, where she earned a reputation as a fierce — and politically moderate — prosecutor known for her focus on assaults and sexual offenses against women and children. She was elected Westchester County district attorney in 1993 as a Republican supporting abortion rights, and quickly became the darling of the tabloids and cable, combining a telegenic appearance with a penchant for blunt quotability. Ms. Pirro parlayed that into a successful TV career, first as a judge, then as a commentator, and finally an implacable defender of Mr. Trump, whom she has known for decades. Along the way she accrued a formidable fortune — her net worth is $11.5 million, according to financial disclosures — and some serious baggage. Her tough talk on crime does not necessarily extend to those she deems to be worthy of sympathy and reprieve, most notably her former husband, Albert J. Pirro Jr., who was convicted 25 years ago of illegal tax write-offs of expensive cars, paintings and even the fencing around a pig pen at the family mansion. During the waning hours of the first Trump administration, Ms. Pirro hit the phones after learning that Mr. Pirro, who had once served as Mr. Trump's real estate lawyer, was not one of those receiving a pardon. Her intervention succeeded. That relationship is double-edged. While she can pick up the phone and get Mr. Trump, it also makes it more likely that the president and his top aides will exert unmediated pressure her. The biggest question facing Ms. Pirro moving forward is whether she will have the latitude to focus primarily on basic law enforcement, or take a Martin-esque turn by targeting Mr. Trump's enemies at his behest. A potential moment of truth looms just over the horizon: Ms. Bondi's decision to authorize a grand jury investigation into accusations that Obama-era officials fabricated intelligence about Russian meddling in the 2016 election may extend to Washington, meaning prosecutors or support staff from her office could potentially be assigned to the case. When Benny Johnson, a far-right podcaster, recently asked Ms. Pirro if she would investigate Senator Adam B. Schiff, a California Democrat, for leaking information about Mr. Trump, she punted. 'The difference between me and some other people is that I don't talk about what I'm investigating,' she said. Ms. Pirro has embraced the administration's maximalist approach against those who defy federal crackdowns. In the past month, a federal grand jury in the district has twice rejected efforts by her office to indict a woman accused of assaulting an F.B.I. agent assisting in the transfer of immigrants. Jurors found evidence presented by Ms. Pirro's prosecutors, 'wanting,' the magistrate overseeing the case said. Her office is also bringing felony assault charges against a man who chucked a Subway sandwich at a heavily armed federal officer this week. (The officer was not injured.) 'So there, stick your subway sandwich somewhere else!' Ms. Pirro said in a video. Nonetheless, she is making effort to keep open lines of communication with local officials and has, at least initially, avoided criticizing individuals and confined her ire to city laws that limit prosecutions of offenders under 25. Her Democratic predecessors have also decried those laws as far too restrictive. Several Biden-era Justice Department officials, speaking on the condition of anonymity to avoid publicly criticizing their successors, say their biggest complaint about Ms. Pirro is not that she is too extreme, but that she is hyping routine actions and minimizing their work for the sake of self-promotion. Last Tuesday, when a reporter pressed her on that point — how could the administration declare an emergency in a city where violent crime has precipitously declined? — Ms. Pirro declared that one crime was still too many. Asked about recent cuts to criminal justice programs, Ms. Pirro, wearing a tailored navy-blue jacket and an expression of incredulity, took another high-heeled step toward the cameras. 'Oh, stop it!' she said. Kitty Bennett contributed research.