Latest news with #Diver
Yahoo
15-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
University of Minnesota to return ancestral remains this fall
Melissa OlsonMPR News During an annual update to the University of Minnesota Board of Regents, senior advisor to the president on Native American affairs Karen Diver said the repatriation of the Mimbres collection could begin in October. 'We anticipate working with the Hopi as the lead tribe to repatriate their ancestors and funerary objects in the fall,' said Diver. Anthropologists at the university excavated more than 150 ancestral remains and thousands of Mimbres cultural items from the ancestral gravesites of Indigenous people in the southwest during digs that took place between 1928 and 1931. The Hopi Tribe is located in northeastern Arizona. 'They have been sending representatives here, giving us guidance on how to care for their ancestors and funerary objects,' Diver said. The update from Diver marks another phase in a process that has taken place over the past three years as the university stepped up repatriation efforts. The university's regents passed a resolution authorizing the collection's return in February 2022. 'It is the moral and ethical calling of our land grant university that inspires and guides us, demanding that we act justly by repatriating that which was never ours,' wrote former Board of Regents chair Ken Powell in 2022. The return of the Mimbres collection complies with requirements of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act — the 1990 law passed by Congress, which requires institutions that receive federal funds to return human remains and items of cultural patrimony to tribal nations and Native Hawaiian organizations. Diver said the Weisman Art Museum at the university has worked to build the necessary relationships with tribal nations to care for the collection as the repatriation process moves forward. 'The bottom line on this is that the tribes are happy with the way the process is going and the regard and concern that they've been given,' she said.
Yahoo
12-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
See it: Metal detector leads to silver surprise of ancient Romanian coins for man on nature walk
LETCA VECHE, Romania – A Romanian metal detectorist stumbled upon an extraordinary piece of history, unearthing a remarkable hoard of ancient silver coins. "I could feel my heart beating quite hard," Bebe Mangaec said in a social media post after the discovery of 1,469 Romanian coins (silver denarii). "I even thought about pinching myself to convince myself that I was not in a dream." Ancient Roman Treasure Trove Of 27 Rare Silver Coins Unearthed Likely By Heavy Rains On Sicilian Island The Izvoarele man told FOX Weather that the rare find was unearthed near Letca Veche in Giurgiu County on Holy Saturday before Easter. "A beautiful Saturday that foretold nothing of what was to come," he said. "I took my detector and went out alone as I often do, for exercise and to relax in the fields and forests." When his detector gave a strong signal, Mangeac certainly wasn't expecting anything about what was to unfold. "I did not think that this day would bring me a surprise that would put me face to face with history," he said. "I felt my heart beating pretty fast, and I really thought to pinch myself to convince myself that I am not in a dream." $1 Million In Stolen Gold Coins From 1715 Florida Shipwreck Recovered The sheer number of coins left Mangeac in awe. "I wonder to whom they belonged to and what were these coins intended for?" he questioned. Diver Discovers 50,000 Ancient Roman Empire Bronze Coins Off Italian Coast Over the following two days, Mangeac photographed each of the coins and handed over the collection to the local city hall. "I hope that one day I will go with my child to the museum where I can explain how I was lucky enough to discover a page of the history of our people," he article source: See it: Metal detector leads to silver surprise of ancient Romanian coins for man on nature walk
Yahoo
07-03-2025
- Climate
- Yahoo
What time will sun set in Portland after clocks change for Daylight Saving Time?
PORTLAND, Ore. (KOIN) – If you're sick of the sun setting so early in the day, you're in luck: Daylight Saving Time is here, and it's bringing a new schedule to Portland. On Sunday, March 9, clocks will '' to shift the time that the sun rises and falls by one hour — that is, until next November. It means you'll lose an hour of sleep, but it also means your sunset will be an hour later than usual. Underwater search continues for car believed to belong to missing Martin family Before the shift to DST, Portlanders experience less daylight on winter evenings. On Wednesday, March 5, the with 11 hours and 25 minutes of total sunlight. But on Sunday, March 9, Portlanders will experience the The amount of sunlight through the day won't change much with 11 hours and 38 minutes of daytime, but the way you experience it will change considerably. Recently, to permanently remove DST in favor of permanent Standard Time. He had previously stated he would eliminate the '' practice. How did they find the Martin Family station wagon? Diver explains But polls frequently show that Americans prefer permanent Daylight Saving Time thanks to its ability to extend sunlight in the evening hours so that people can . In Oregon, lawmakers have introduced bills for both and permanent . However, both have struggled to come into practice due to a federal decision that would . For now, Daylight Saving Time is scheduled to end Sunday, Nov. 2, 2025. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
The Guardian
14-02-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Five Great Reads: Stuart Diver, life as a triple zero call-taker, and the best UFO pic of them all
Top of the weekend to you all. An Australian survival story is the centrepiece of this week's selection, which includes perhaps the most ripping yarn I've shared in this newsletter. To paraphrase the poster on Fox Mulder's wall: 'You'll want to believe.' When Bunny Banyai turned up to work as a triple zero call-taker, she learned she would get a 30-minute break every 90 minutes to help limit burnout risk. 'It seemed excessively generous,' she writes, 'until you've spent your first hour and a half on the phones.' Banyai learned that for every part of the job she loved, there were five that she hated – from pest callers to 'the grinding gravity of it all'. A police dispatcher's advice: 'You can't do this job for too long,' he said, 'or you'll wind up an absolute husk.' Banyai stuck it out for months. How long will it take to read: Two minutes. Having a song written about you sounds quite lovely, unless you're Drake – who was no doubt enjoying a lovely Monday morning while on tour in Australia – and Kendrick Lamar is taking you down in Not Like Us, a diss track watched simultaneously by hundreds of millions. How does the rapper recover from a Super Bowl moment in which even Serena Williams, a rumoured former flame, was on the dancefloor? Crisis PR experts weigh in on what Drake should do next. The Taylor Swift solution: Swift's response to a lengthy beef with Kanye West and Kim Kardashian was to disappear until the release of her Reputation album – on which she addressed the backlash in her own terms. How long will it take to read: Three minutes. In case you missed it: Our review of that Super Bowl show, which you can watch on YouTube here. The long-running How We Survive series has finally turned its attention to Australia and Stuart Diver, who in 1997 was caught in a landslide which destroyed a Thredbo lodge and killed everyone else in it – including Diver's first wife, Sally. 'I look at that 27 years on and I can't work out how I survived,' says Diver today. He recounts his 65-hour ordeal, why he sounded so calm when interviewed post-rescue and the trauma of losing his second wife, Rosanna, in great detail. Warning: this is read is not for the claustrophobic. 'You actually get an amazing feeling of calmness come over you.' – Diver on how he felt in his most extreme moments of helplessness beneath 4,000 tons of rubble. How long will it take to read: Five minutes. Sign up to Five Great Reads Each week our editors select five of the most interesting, entertaining and thoughtful reads published by Guardian Australia and our international colleagues. Sign up to receive it in your inbox every Saturday morning after newsletter promotion If you've never tried to do a plastic-free grocery shop, take a look at your list and see what you would have to scratch off. The first time we did this at home our minds were blown. Why go through the hassle? Reducing your footprint has to start somewhere. But as Emma Beddington discovered in week one of trying to go a month without single-use plastic, it instantly renders many aisles of the supermarket off-limits. Un-fun fact: According to the UN Foundation, there is already enough plastic in the oceans to fill 5m shipping containers. The holy grail: If anyone has found a plastic-free solution to corn chips outside of 'bake your own', my inbox is waiting for your email. How long will it take to read: Five minutes. As promised, the story that has everything – starting with a 1990 photo of what appears to be a giant diamond-shaped aircraft flanked by a Harrier fighter jet above the moors of Scotland. The Ministry of Defence was informed. A newspaper declined to run the story. The alleged photographers promptly disappeared. And debate rages over whether the photo was a prank, a hoax, an optical illusion or something else entirely. Memorable cameo: A wet night. A hotel car park. A black car. And two men in dark suits. How long will it take to read: Five minutes. Enjoying the Five Great Reads email? Then you'll love our weekly culture and lifestyle newsletter, Saved for Later. Sign up here to catch up on the fun stuff with our rundown of must-reads, pop culture, trends and tips for the weekend. And check out the full list of our local and international newsletters.
The Guardian
11-02-2025
- General
- The Guardian
I was trapped for three days under 4,000 tons of rubble – the sole survivor of the landslide that killed my wife
Stuart Diver woke up to a roar that sounded like a low-flying plane. The floor was shaking. The windows rattled. It was 11.35pm and 4,000 tons of mud, building and debris was hurtling down the mountainside in Thredbo, New South Wales, towards Bimbadeen Lodge, where he had been asleep with his wife, Sally. In a few short seconds, the ceiling of their apartment caved in and they were entombed by the concertinaed building. Diver fumbled around in the pitch black room for a way out, cutting his hands and feet on broken glass. But there was nowhere to go. 'I heard the noise and put my head up, but as I rolled forward the wrought iron headboard came down and pinned Sally to the bed.' Freezing cold water from a broken mains water pipe on the road above them soon started 'flying around'. Diver, found a small pocket of air to breathe by arching his back and tilting his head up. He tried to cover Sally's mouth to stop her from drowning but he couldn't save her. 'Sal dying in my hands will stay in my mind forever,' he wrote in his 2012 book, Survival. Once he knew there was nothing he could do for Sally, the 27-year-old ski instructor started to fight for his own life. It was the middle of winter and he was lying on a slab of concrete with a rock puncturing his back, wearing only his boxer shorts. 'I was wet, cold, muddy,' he says. For the next few hours, he was intermittently tortured by the icy water laced with diesel and sewage that would ebb and flow through the concrete tomb in which he was trapped. 'Before then, I would have said I was claustrophobic.' But trapped in the darkness, with only 3cm of room between his face and the concrete for the next 65 hours, he found that in situations of complete helplessness 'you actually get an amazing feeling of calmness come over you'. Diver was raised in Melbourne with his intrepid, no-nonsense Glaswegian parents, Annette and Steve, and his brother, Euan, who was one of the first-responders on the scene. They hiked the Thredbo mountains at weekends, and sailed, swam and fished. At just six weeks old, in terrible weather, Diver ascended Mount Kosciuszko, the highest mountain in Australia, strapped to his mum. 'I wonder how we survived,' he laughs, recalling a photograph he recently found from a holiday in Nepal, where he's teetering on the edge of a glacier beside roaring, class-five rapids. Alone. 'We were in places that kids probably should never have been. 'Walking nine hours a day is not a young person's idea of fun but where we went and what we did definitely made me who I was.' The pain of trekking in the rain, carrying heavy bags 'did make me a much more resilient person as an adult.' By the time he started university, Diver knew he wanted to be a ski instructor but decided the sensible thing to do would be to get a degree in hotel management. At The Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology, he met Sally, a beautiful blond woman with an infectious smile. 'I'd always had this old fashioned vision that I was going to meet someone who had similar outdoor interests and we were going to get married and have a family and live happily ever after.' After dating for four years, he proposed in Sydney and they celebrated their engagement on Bondi beach with fish and chips and a bottle of red wine. They got married in November 1995, then moved to Canada, where they both found jobs in the hospitality industry at the SilverStar mountain resort in British Columbia – Sally as a restaurant manager and Diver as a ski instructor. Six months later, they returned home. They arrived back in Australia in the winter, where Sally lined up work at the Thredbo Alpine Hotel – the European-style ski resort in the Snowy Mountains of New South Wales that Diver now manages – and Diver completed his second season on the slopes. Eight weeks before the landslide, they moved from a rented property in town to Bimbadeen Lodge, the staff block for the Thredbo alpine village that was available thanks to Sally's job. 'If I could have made that decision slightly differently, then the world would be a different place.' The day of the landslide had been like any other. Diver finished work on the slopes at 4.30pm and met Sally at the hotel so they could do their weekly shop in Jindabyne, a larger town half an hour away. They bought some takeaway noodles at Nuggets Crossing shopping centre before driving back to the lodge, watching TV and falling asleep early. A little before midnight on 30 July 1997, the 108km road embankment holding up Alpine Way began sliding down the hillside of Thredbo. A leaking water main had saturated the space below the road, causing a landslide that pushed the two-storied timber Carinya Lodge from its foundations down the mountain and on to the four-storey Bimbadeen Lodge, which was made from reinforced concrete, at high speed, burying 19 people. 'I look at that 27 years on and I can't work out how I survived,' says Diver. He was trapped in the rubble for three days, during which: 'I was in so much physical pain from the cold.' He started urinating on his frostbitten feet to keep them warm. He's not sure if he was hallucinating or dreaming, but towards the end of the ordeal his mind took him to warmer places. At one point, he was an actor on a movie set somewhere in the desert, at others his mum would be rubbing his feet to warm them up, just as she did when he was a child on the ski lifts. But loud noises would bring him back to reality, which was getting more grim by the minute. Outside, there were more than 600 rescuers working tirelessly in overnight temperatures of -12C with a wind chill of -30C to find signs of life. The cutting equipment and chainsaws kept freezing, while the lodge itself was on a steep incline of the hill and the instability of the land was making the operation particularly perilous. Any sudden movement could trigger another landslide and further endanger the rescuers, as well as any survivors trapped underneath. 'I knew there were all these other people in the building above me and I thought that they had been rescuing them,' Diver says of the 15 to 20 people who lived in the lodge. 'I kept thinking: 'That's OK, get everyone else. I'll be down at the bottom.'' Amid the din of saws hacking through concrete, firefighter Steve Hirst heard a sound at the 54-hour mark. Stuart remembers him shouting: 'Rescue party above. Can you hear me?' The sound of the man's voice gave him new energy after what had felt like a lifetime of being trapped, but it would take another 11 hours to free him – and it was just the start of an intense emotional rollercoaster. Diver realised that the first responders might not be able to get him out. He was trapped 2 metres underground, under three concrete slabs, so the team had to dig a tunnel sideways to reach him. It was paramedic Paul Featherstone's job to keep him positive, assessing his medical condition and talking to him about the mountains – his happy place – before he was dug and drilled out in 20 minute shifts. After 65 hours, they managed to get a stretcher to Diver, carving a hole large enough to hoist him out. He was passed down a line towards the ambulance, eventually emerging into the light. It was a feeling of 'absolute elation,' he says. 'I felt really good because obviously adrenaline is pumping through your body and I thought: 'Great, I'll just go down to the pub and have a beer.'' But it wasn't going to be that way. 'When they finally got to me, they reckoned that, by the physical state I was in, I only had a few hours to live. My energy was completely depleted. I had nothing left. I'd lost 15kg during that 65 hours,' he says. 'I was very, very close to the end.' Diver was airlifted to a hospital in Canberra, where he spent a week recovering. He still has some issues with his left foot – the frostbite had affected his circulation and the muscles were wasted, making it ache – but overall he made a complete and speedy recovery. It wasn't until four days later that he found out he was the sole survivor. 'There were 18 people who died, so you can't just go, 'Yeah, I'm the survivor!'' he says. 'I already had my own loss with Sally but when you magnify that with all the other people that was a big burden.' His rescue made him a nationwide celebrity overnight. The landslide had been one of the first incidents where the aftermath was broadcast live for the world to see and a media circus quickly began. 'That first six months definitely took a toll on my mental health,' he says. 'I never got a chance to grieve properly.' At the time, Diver was criticised for coming across as cold and unemotional when he was talking about the accident because his voice never wavered nor did he cry. He says now that he was trying to be positive in the name of those that had died. 'For me, that emotional side, at that point, was very much a personal thing. If I wanted to cry, that was for me to cry.' And that's exactly what he did – the minute he got home, he would break down. In those early days, Diver self-medicated with alcohol. 'I was a 27-year-old man and I was going to do it all myself,' he says. 'When you drink and you have a really bad hangover, the only thing you need to think about the next day is the hangover. I joke about it now but you know that's the cycle some people get into and never get out. Luckily, I had enough good people around me.' One of those good people was Rosanna Cossettini, who had been part of Thredbo's tightknit community for a decade, and who Diver started dating two years after the landslide. She was strong and 'in some ways my protector', going through the emotional struggles of that period with him. 'How long are you meant to grieve is always the question,' he says. 'It's farcical. Some people can grieve for two weeks and some people grieve for ever. I think you do grieve forever, it's just on levels and scales. But I was lucky enough to meet Rosanna.' They married three years later, but, in 2004, shortly after they returned from an extended honeymoon that took them to the UK, Europe and Thailand, Rosanna was diagnosed with breast cancer. There were operations, chemotherapy and three months of radiation, then five years of hormone therapy before she went into remission. The harsh drugs sent her body into early menopause. Rosanna had always wanted a child but a family didn't seem to be on the cards for the couple. Miraculously, she did fall pregnant, but at the 10-and-a-half-week scan the baby had no heartbeat. 'That was really devastating.' Diver gave up on the idea of having children but six months later Rosanna became pregnant again and this time they had Alessia. Soon after, Rosanna received a metastatic cancer diagnosis that had no chance of survival. 'Surviving the landslide definitely gave me a lot more compassion for others. It gave me a better understanding of people who are going through pain,' Diver writes in his book. 'I think the best way to describe it is that it matured me.' 'With Sally, I went through a hugely traumatic death, where I wasn't able to say goodbye to someone,' he says. With Rosanna, he had 'a whole different experience.' It was slow, caring for her for 11 years through the treatment, but there was time. Together, they were able to prepare for her death. 'There was only one night that Rosanna and Alessia weren't together.' Diver says the landslide does not define him, and he doesn't want Rosanna's death to define Alessia. He tells his daughter: 'We're going to live our lives as loving, caring, strong people so that we can keep mum's memory alive.' He is thankful to have experienced so much love from Sally and Rosanna; and 14-year-old Alessia is his greatest joy. 'The great opportunity of my life – coming through these multiple traumas – is that they've all taught me so much.' He is a huge advocate for men's mental health and seeking help from professionals. 'Everyone wants to be resilient, it's the buzzword.' But Diver wants people to know that it takes hard work to be able to adapt to change, and the process is always individual. It might come as a surprise that Diver has chosen to stay in Thredbo after so much pain but the community and the mountains he grew up in are his 'spiritual place'. It's where he goes to clear his mind, and he believes that this environment has been fundamental to his recovery. 'Everything that you do in the mountains, whether it's physical activity, whether it's the extremes of weather, just adds to a place that brings me a lot of calmness,' he says. 'When you look at the mountains, there are just so many possibilities.'
