Latest news with #Linares
Daily Mail
20-05-2025
- Daily Mail
Boy, three, dies in Spanish town after being found trapped in car in 27C heat
A three-year-old boy has died in a popular Spanish town after being found trapped in a car in 27C heat. Emergency responders dashed to the scene in Linares in the Andalucian province of Jaen, after a member of the public made a frantic 999 call just before 3pm on Tuesday. The car was parked on a street in a residential area of Linares, where temperatures soared to around 27C today. Rescue workers freed him from the vehicle where he was found without a heartbeat and attempted to revive him for several minutes. The child was then rushed to a local hospital where he was tragically declared dead. Police have now launched an investigation into the death in an attempt to clarify what happened. It was not immediately clear this afternoon if the person who called the emergency services was a passer-by who happened to spot the child in the car or if they were related to the youngster. It is also not known how long the three-year-old had been left in the vehicle before he was found. If police discover the youngster had accidentally been left in the car by a forgetful relative or friend, it will not have been the first tragedy of its kind. In April a three-year-old child died after his 39-year-old aunt 'forgot' to drop him off at nursery and left him sleeping on the back seat of her car in searing heat. She went to work and only realised six hours later what she had done when she returned to the vehicle on a lunch break - alerting police and firefighters who rushed the youngster 'in a bad way' to hospital where he suffered fatal cardiac arrest. Detectives said at the time they had launched a manslaughter probe. And on November 14, 2023, Apollo Gabriel Rodrigues, two, died after allegedly being forgotten about by his school minibus driver and the man's wife who worked as a monitor in an area called Villa Maria north of Sao Paulo's city centre. Flavio Robson Benes, 45, discovered the child unconscious on a back seat of the vehicle and rushed him to hospital but he was pronounced dead shortly after arrival. He and his partner, named at the time as 44-year-old Luciana Coelho Graft, were questioned by police as part of a homicide investigation ahead of the youngster's funeral. The minibus was part of a free school transport scheme operated by the city council. Apollo's mum Kaliane Rodrigues recalled at the time how her son had been crying when she handed him over so he could be taken to his nursery because he 'didn't want to go.' She told local media: 'Apollo usually went in the front but the driver's assistant put him on the back seat and forgot about him. 'Regardless of where she placed him in the van, she's been negligent and irresponsible because anyone who works with children has to always be attentive. 'I want justice. All I want is for justice to be done.' In September 2023 a baby girl called Madalena died after being left in a car on a Portuguese university campus for several hours in 26C heat. The 10-month-old child's father, described at the time locally as a lecturer and departmental head at the campus near Lisbon, is believed to have forgotten to drop her off at its creche before going to work and leaving her in the vehicle. He reportedly called 999 after realising his tragic error and discovering the youngster unconscious inside the car. Efforts to revive her proved unsuccessful and she was pronounced dead at the scene. The unnamed father is said to have parked the family SEAT Ateca car by the campus creche around 8am on September 12 before going to work at his office in the Nova School of Science and Technology, In August 2018 a 10-month-old baby girl died in the Majorcan town of Manacor after her grandfather left her in the back of his car for eight hours in temperatures of up to 30C after forgetting to leave her at a nursery school. He found her dead when he returned to the vehicle after running errands several hours later. The unnamed man accepted a year's prison sentence in March 2020.
Times
16-05-2025
- Times
Attacking magpies can't stand the rain in Spain, say dazed locals
In scenes reminiscent of Alfred Hitchcock's horror film, birds have been attacking people in the southern Spanish town of Linares. Indignant residents have taken to protecting their heads with umbrellas after numerous attacks in several parts of the town in Jaén province in the Andalusia region. The culprits have been identified as members of the Iberian magpie species. Authorities have tried to allay concerns by saying that the attacks are not malicious. • Visitors to Spain's tallest mountain will face 'eco-tax' The town council has issued a communiqué saying that they do not mean to cause harm but are 'an instinctive and temporary response typical of their breeding season'. The episode began with the occasional isolated peck but has become a regular battle, locals told
Reuters
14-05-2025
- Business
- Reuters
Judge sanctions CFTC over agency's conduct in My Forex Funds case
May 14 (Reuters) - A federal judge in Camden, New Jersey has thrown out a Commodity Futures Trading Commission lawsuit against a U.S.-Canadian trading firm after finding that the U.S. agency acted in bad faith and made false statements, according to a docket entry on Wednesday. U.S. District Judge Edward Kiel dismissed the CFTC's 2023 case against Traders Global Group, also known as My Forex Funds, and awarded the company attorney fees as a sanction. Lawyers for the trading firm and its CEO Murtuza Kazmi said in a statement that the case should never have been brought. "Our clients are — and always have been — compliant with the law and innocent of the allegations and claims brought against them," the statement from Quinn Emanuel Urquhart & Sullivan and King & Spalding said. Acting CFTC Chairman Caroline Pham said in a statement that the agency's conduct was "inexcusable." "The CFTC must now accept accountability so that appropriate corrective action can finally be taken to address the conduct issues, and the CFTC can put this behind us and move forward to restore the agency's credibility and reputation," Pham said. Kiel's decision adopted a report and recommendations, opens new tab by a court-appointed special master. The report, which was unsealed on Tuesday, found the CFTC "acted willfully and in bad faith on several occasions" during the litigation. The CFTC had accused My Forex Funds and Kazmi of fraudulently booking at least $310 million in fees from thousands of customers. The agency said My Forex Funds illicitly transferred C$31.5 million to an unidentified account outside of the United States. As a result, another federal judge froze the assets of both Kazmi and My Forex Funds. But CFTC employees received an email before the case was filed from the Ontario Securities Commission confirming the C$31.5 million transfers were legitimate tax payments to Canadian authorities, according to special master Jose Linares, a retired federal judge. Despite possessing the email, the CFTC proceeded with the lawsuit and alleged that the C$31.5 million transfers were evidence that Kazmi "may — and is likely to — transfer or dissipate" his assets. The CFTC did not disclose the email until four months after bringing its case, in a footnote in a court filing, the report said. "At multiple points in time, the CFTC also had the opportunity to correct the false statements and impressions that had been made, yet it chose to go a different route in violation of its duty of candor to the Court," Linares said in his unsealed report. An unidentified CFTC attorney also admitted his conduct was "careless and sloppy," Linares said. (Additional reporting by Chris Prentice)
Yahoo
04-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
A ‘Pedro Pan' uses memoir and Smithsonian donations to capture youth exodus from Cuba
It was a lot to ask of an 11-year-old boy. But José Linares survived, and so did the little crucifix affixed to sea shells and coral an old woman gave him when he knocked on her door in Miami, collecting scrap paper to help feed for his family. Today, both are telling one immigrant's story. Linares, a retired computer programmer and project manager who lives in the Feeding Hills section of Agawam, is completing a memoir of the crisis his family faced in Havana in 1961, as they and others alienated by Cuba's 1959 socialist revolution looked for ways out. That little crucifix? Linares delivered it personally to the National Museum of the American Latino in Washington, D.C., where it will help visitors picture the lives of Linares, his brother Raúl and the more than 14,000 Cuban children whose parents sent them from the island in what became known as the 'Pedro Pan' migration. 'It used to glow in the dark,' Linares, now 74, said of the crucifix. 'It doesn't any more. It's been a long time.' Amid the revolutionary fervor, families became convinced – wrongly, it turned out – that in the interests of his emerging socialist government, Fidel Castro planned to terminate parental authority ('patria potestad') and send young men to live with the country's new allies in the Eastern Bloc. 'Word spread like crazy,' Linares said of the feared exodus. 'The rumors were crazy. Everyone believed it was imminent. It scared a lot of people, including my parents. It became a flood. Time was not on our side. It never did come to fruition.' But in the fall of 1961, his parents, Manuel V. Linares and Onelia J. Ortiz, paid a fellow Cuban living in Miami $4,000 to help care for their two sons ($42,780 in today's dollars). Tey Marianna Nunn, associate director of content and interpretation at the new museum, said she's grateful to Linares for sharing his story with the public. 'We all play a role in history, so there are no small stories,' Nunn said. 'Local, regional, and national experiences combine to convey a greater shared history.' The crucifix and other objects donated by Cuban children who were part of the Pedro Pan movement will be used for rotating displays, according to Ranald Woodaman, the museum's assistant director of exhibition development. Woodaman says the Pedro Pan story is an important part of both U.S. immigration history and the Cuban American experience. 'It allows us to explore the refugee experience from the perspective of children, he said. José Linares isn't thinking only of the past. 'People need to know what happens to immigrants when they get here,' he said. 'The majority of us are just looking for freedom, for a better place to live.' Linares describes the fear of family separation this way in the memoir he is now completing: 'The horrific possibility that [parental authority] was about to be abolished proliferated like a wildfire powered by a windstorm of lies over a land devoid of truth. Fear of losing one's children, of seeing them shipped to a communist bloc country, was on everyone's mind. My parents were beside themselves. The atmosphere became one of desperation.' José and Raúl became two of the estimated 14,048 young Cubans whisked away on commercial flights to Miami. Their parents, who initially supported the overthrow of Cuba's longtime dictator, Fulgencio Batista, thought Castro's revolution would falter and the family would reunite in Cuba. A small exhibit about the Pedro Pan children is already part of the new American Latino museum, temporarily housed in a gallery within the Museum of American History as part of the Smithsonian Institution. 'It needs to be told. This is an immigrant story akin to the Kindertransport,' José Linares said, referring to the rescue of about 10,000 children, most of the Jewish, from Nazi Germany from 1938 to 1940. 'I can identify because this is my story.' Raúl Linares, now 79, gave the museum the duffel bag he carried when he flew to Miami on Oct. 25, 1961. That type of satchel was known as a 'gusano,' the Spanish word for worm, because of its shiny surface; the term is also the pejorative used against Cubans who did not support the revolution. 'That duffel bag? It's a small way that my brother and I can pass a message on to people about what happened and the trials we went through for no reason,' he said in a phone interview from Lawrenceville, Georgia, where he lives after retiring from building and repairing medical equipment. 'It is as real as the history behind it and all the emotions attached to it. It's important that America understand what happens when certain philosophies and agendas get ahold of a country.' The D.C. museum's collection now includes the passport (No. 64603) that José Linares carried with him to Miami. He stood 4-feet, 3-inches tall with brown eyes. As he researched his memoir, Linares obtained copies of the visa waiver that he and other Pedro Pan children obtained through the U.S.-based Catholic Welfare Bureau, an essentially one-man effort led by a priest, the Rev. Bryan O. Walsh. He found the manifest for KLM Flight 977 (48 passengers, only nine of them U.S. citizens) and his customs entry form, stamped 'STUDENT.' When Castro arrived victorious in Havana on Jan. 1, 1959, the Linares family was running a gumball vending machine business. But as Cuba's trade relations with the U.S. frayed, the family could no longer get gum, toy charms or parts for the machines. The Linares switched to stocking their machines with candied peanuts, but those fused in the Cuban heat. José recalls being puzzled by the shutdown in trade, imposed by the U.S. ''Mima,'' he said he asked his mom. ''Why are the Americans our enemies now?'' To celebrate the revolution, the family's vending machines had for a time dispensed little pictures of Fidel and Ché Guevara. A sign on the family's home, reading 'Esta es tu casa, Fidel,' told the new Cuban leader he was welcome to visit. Onelia believed for a time that Castro would fix Cuba's problems, her son says, after the long Batista dictatorship and an ever longer tradition of outside business interests extracting value from the island without benefiting the Cuban people. The family's view of the revolution changed as their business struggled. Fearing counter-revolution after the failed CIA-guided Bay of Pigs attack in April 1961, the Castro government set up neighborhood watch units. In his memoir, Linares captures the routine of sharing a family business – counting and wrapping pennies from those gumball machines, his father's love of chess and trips into the interior to visit relatives, where he remembers anole lizards feasting on ants in areca trees. Then the moment came when his parents decided to act. 'My brother and I, on a trip, just the two of us! It would be our adventure, I thought,' he writes. 'How innocent we were! … Our departure date, October 25th, was now like those sugar cane trains in [the rural town of] Vegas, fast approaching, roaring, unstoppable and laden with sadness. The drive to the airport was gut-wrenching, and the dread of separation filled my very being. The air felt thick. Decades later, I still have just glimpses of that part of our trip as if I am outside of the car looking in and watching our final moments together.' Because Christmas was coming, his mother had snuck a Zorro hat and mask into his luggage. The brothers had been told the separation was temporary. Today, José Linares has 62 years of perspective. 'You're leaving your country, your language, your innocence behind,' he said at his kitchen table in Feeding Hills. 'Terrifying was a mild word.' Raúl Linares, who was 16, says his mother had asked him to look after his little brother. But after landing in Miami on the KLM DC-6 propellor plane, the brothers were separated and taken to different transit camps. 'When we left customs, we went to a covered parking lot and my brother went with a group of children his age. I had thought that we were going to stay together,' Raúl Linares said. 'We had landed in a strange country and it was all a big shock. I had no idea where he was going.' José was driven to what he later learned was a former dormitory for Black children called Camp Kendall. Raúl was taken with older teens to Camp Matecumbe in southwest Dade County, still wondering what had become of his brother. Camp Matecumbe was a former summer youth camp run by the local Catholic diocese. It offered high school classes to the arriving Cubans, but Raúl says he was too preoccupied with finding his brother to attend. He remembers spending days up in a tree, thinking, and missing his girlfriend in Cuba. On his first Sunday in the camp, Raúl and others were driven to Bayfront Park in Miami to spend the day. The next Sunday, instead of returning from the park to Matecumbe, he used a few dollars his mother had given him to take a cab to the address of the man who was supposed to be helping the brothers. Raúl had heard that the younger Cuban children might be put up for adoption. He managed to make a phone call to his mother in Havana. He explained he wasn't with José. 'It was devastating for everyone, especially my mom, who was very protective,' Raúl said. 'I had to do something quickly.' With the man's help, Raúl found his way to Camp Kendall. After 12 days apart, José and Raúl were reunited. 'I don't forgive them for separating us, but I know why now,' José said. 'They were overwhelmed with so many kids.' Freed from transit camp life, the boys stayed for a time with the man and his family. In his memoir, José Linares identifies that person only as the Ogre. In conversation, he calls him the swindler and believes he exploited his parents' fears, charging them for a visa waiver that was free from Walsh's Catholic welfare group and the Department of State. Raúl refers to the man as 'that drunken, parasitic person.' The boys' parents arrived in Miami later that year with their sister Marta, 20. 'They didn't know if they would see us again,' José said of his parents. 'I got lucky. We got lucky.' The family lived in Miami into 1963, making money any way they could. Raúl and his father picked beans with migrant workers in Homestead. Both boys canvassed neighborhoods, knocking on doors to ask people to give away old paper. The Linareses sold them for 50 cents for every hundred pounds collected. Their English was coming along, slowly. Asked if he remembered his pitch when he knocked on doors, José says it was something like this: 'Do you have newspapers and magazines, old?' 'We had found this old Flyer wagon. We fixed it up. My father called it the 'Cuatro Vientos,' the Four Winds. My dad christened it,' José said. Raúl remembers that they pulled it with a rope. It was on those rounds that José, on a hot summer day in 1962, came to the door of the woman who gave him the crucifix. She didn't have any old paper, but asked him to wait while she fetched a container of lemonade and the homemade crucifix display – five shells and five small pieces of coral – that now lives at the Smithsonian museum. In 1963, the family moved to Frederick, Maryland, through a sponsorship program. 'That's where the doors of opportunity opened up,' José said. 'That's when we got back on our feet again.' His brother and father took jobs in construction, though José thinks his dad was too old for that. 'It was rougher for him because he was past 50,' Raúl said. Manuel Linares later found work as a night janitor. Mother Onelia and sister Marta worked in restaurants. Both parents died decades ago. José says his mother was bitter the family had to leave Cuba and wanted for years to return, at least until an American grandchild came along. His father didn't share the dream of going back. José says he once asked his father how he coped with losing his business and his life in Cuba. 'He said, 'I decided never to look back, because you would go insane.'' Raúl said the promise of the early revolution failed people like his family. 'It was the devil in sheep's clothing. We do know now.' José hasn't been back to Cuba and pledges he never will. 'I will not drop any money in the country that kicked us out and destroyed our lives.' Read the original article on MassLive. Read the original article on MassLive. Read the original article on MassLive. Read the original article on MassLive. Read the original article on MassLive. Read the original article on MassLive. Read the original article on MassLive. Read the original article on MassLive.
Yahoo
04-05-2025
- Yahoo
Man arrested for allegedly selling illegal narcotics to Ventura County residents
A man was arrested for allegedly selling illegal narcotics to residents across Ventura County. Ventura County sheriff's deputies had been investigating Richard Edward Linares, 48, of Oxnard, on suspicion of illicit substance sales. On April 29, a search warrant was served at his Oxnard home on the 1400 block of Cedar Street. During the search, detectives seized over eight ounces (236 grams) of cocaine, over one ounce (35 grams) of methamphetamine, psilocybin mushrooms, Adderall pills and other unidentified substances. Detectives also reportedly found a significant amount of packaging material that indicated the selling of illegal narcotics. Over $74,000 worth of U.S. currency was found, which deputies believed was proceeds from drug sales. Linares was arrested for the possession of a controlled substance for sale. He remains in custody and is awaiting trial. 'The Ventura County Sheriff's Office would like to thank members of the public for their ongoing support and due diligence in providing information to assist our agency in solving crimes,' the sheriff's department said. 'We are better at what we do because of our community partnerships.' Anyone with additional information on the case can call the Ventura County Sheriff's Office at 805-654-2380. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
