Latest news with #SouthEnd
CTV News
4 days ago
- Climate
- CTV News
DEVELOPING: Active fire in south Barrie
There was a large-scale emergency response in the south end of Barrie around noon on Sunday, as crews responded to an active fire. Sirens were heard continuously throughout the area and nearby witnesses told CTV News they observed thick black smoke in the sky. Note: This is a developing news story. We will provide updates as they become available.
Yahoo
09-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Heard of ‘Tacoma's skinniest park'? It brought this neighborhood together
An unexpected sight is nestled behind a Fred Meyer in Tacoma's South End. In between the grocery store and a row of homes, passersby will see color. And lots of it. The intersection of South 72nd and South D streets has for the last two years been home to about 700 feet of murals, community art space and gardening plots – affectionately referred to as 'Tacoma's skinniest park.' Part of the South End Neighborhood Council's effort to beautify the once-blighted area that began two years ago, some say the community space has had an outsized impact. 'The kids in the neighborhood can play in their yards. That's huge,' South End Neighborhood Council vice chair Rachel Kunze told The News Tribune. 'That was not possible three years ago, and that is amazing.' Before the beautification effort kicked off, Kunze said, the area was known for drug activity, overdoses and crime occurring out in the open, which kept parents from letting their kids spend time outdoors. Some were considering moving out, not to mention the rumors that the neighboring Fred Meyer, one of few grocery stores in the area, was on the brink of closing because of the crime. After the neighborhood council put about $140,000 and hours of volunteer labor into the beautification effort, it's now a thriving highlight of the community. You can even find the occasional monkeyshine in the area, South End Neighborhood Council chair Andrea Haug said. 'The first day that we had a community planting party to come in and plant the trees, we just put out a general call to see who showed up,' Kunze said. 'We had some sign ups. It was starting to hit 30. But on the day, 80 people parked in our parking lot and walked around the corner, and we all planted trees that day.' The beautification effort has helped the neighboring Fred Meyer stick around. It donated $2,500 for a community block party in the space in 2023, The News Tribune reported that year. 'People could go to the store because they could walk down the street to get there, and they hadn't been able to in a long time,' Kunze said. Jamese Williams, co-founder of Together Tacoma, which provides mentorship to local youth, most recently brought a group of high-risk kids from the Salishan area to paint their own murals in the space. She didn't give them a specific assignment, and the kids painted whatever they wanted – including Williams, sporting her red hair. 'I don't put the kids in a box,' she said. 'I want to be able to be free in who they are.' Especially with the recent surge in homicides that have often involved youth in Tacoma, she wanted them to feel like they could contribute to their neighborhood and literally be a part of it. 'They weren't anywhere else but there – they were present,' Williams told The News Tribune. 'Some of these kids, they're around a lot. They're seeing too much. Their regular environments are toxic.' The green space isn't technically a park, but its impact has registered on the community regardless. Kunze said the tenor of the 311 calls that come from the surrounding neighborhood changed drastically once the park was established. Instead of neighbors calling authorities to have homeless people arrested, she said, they're calling to see if they can help connect them to resources that will get them shelter indoors. The park did see an influx of homeless people around the time that the city of Lakewood implemented its overnight camping ban, which meant the skinny park was briefly home to another encampment for a little over a month in 2023. With the help of nearby residents and the neighborhood council, the encampment has slowly faded and its residents have been directed to resources to get them into permanent housing, Kunze said. 'Neighbors who know neighbors know who's struggling, and they can kind of pitch in to help each other,' she said. 'Neighbors who are completely disconnected from each other fall through the cracks, and that's where evictions start to happen.' 'It's born out of love,' Haug told The News Tribune.
The Herald
08-05-2025
- The Herald
The golden era of South End
There are tears for a long-lost era — and then there are the vibrant memories. Happy ones. Of children playing in the Baakens Valley and its quarry. The kind of outdoor games kids played and loved back in the 1960s. But there is a difference. Something unique to a divided country which is slowly heading towards its date with its democratic destiny. The difference then were the dark shadows of members of the apartheid government police's dreaded Security Branch, keeping an ever-watchful eye over their fun activities. But children and security policemen are not a good fit. Why should they be? Then again, this is what was then Port Elizabeth's (Gqeberha) South End in the mid-1960s. A vibrant, colourful and densely populated suburb of cross-cultural homes and tight-knit families which, like Cape Town's District Six, had defied the draconian rules of an unnatural and menacing social system. Apartheid ruled its racist roost throughout the land. But not here. And South End — with its beloved food shops, greengrocers, clothing outlets, hairdressers and candy stores — thrived. It is, in the nature of history, a brief shining moment. In 10 years hence, all this will be gone. A wasteland. With only its memories swirling about the demolished buildings and dusty rubble of the city's notorious northwesterly gusts. 'But it didn't really bother us — the Security Branch guys,' says Yusuf 'Mannetjie' Cassem, 81 this month, who — with two of his older brothers — was earlier this year visiting the now very changed playground of their youth. 'We were so used to having them [security police] around all the time.' And The Herald was there in 1965,to reflect the news, the views and the happenings of the old South End, and its eventual demise. 'The Herald played a very important role in our daily lives,' Yusuf's brother, Addie, 86, recalls. 'There was a lot of coverage of what was happening in South End. And of course, we loved the sports pages. Sport — all kinds of sport — was a big part of our lives. 'It was the paper for the people,' the brothers recalled. 'And the stories of South End and what happened to it were recorded.' Yusuf is moved to tears as he sits alongside his brothers in the South End Museum. They immigrated to the UK as young adults when the Group Areas Act became the ruling National Party's chief weapon — one of social mass division and inequality — to enforce its segregation policies. But in South End, the population of Malay, Asian, Chinese, black, coloured and white residents couldn't have cared less about the race of their neighbours; the members of the large Cassem clan and other families got along famously. On their first visit back in 30 years, it has been a roller-coaster journey. 'It has been very emotional, to hug and see old friends,' Addie said. He grew up with his family — six brothers and four sisters — at 29 Fairy Street. 'You could see the docks. We all helped my dad work-wise. He was a builder, home decorator, working on art interiors: a real all-rounder.' Anwar Cassem, 83, said their father had a motor workshop in their backyard where the brothers would help their father fix cars. 'You could fit 21 cars in there. And we would spend most of our time helping him with this after school. 'He was strict because he didn't want us hanging out on the street corners with the so-called 'skollie boys',' Anwar said, chuckling. While the brothers' father, Omar, may have been a talented artist, decorator, builder and mechanic, the Cassem brothers said he was — foremost — a vocal and tireless anti-apartheid political activist and campaigner, who was also a close associate of renowned educator, journalist and poet professor Dennis Brutus. 'It was quite normal to have people like Helen Suzman (of the then Progressive Party) and Dennis Brutus coming through our front door,' the brothers said. The Security Branch was checking on their father all the time and taking note of what he was saying at rallies — taking him in for questioning, but never arresting him on any charge related to his political activism, they said. All three of them smile wryly when they remember how security police even went as far as to suggest that the Cassem home's workshop was big enough 'to be a bomb factory' and they would be searching behind panels for evidence of any such 'bomb-making'. But for the Cassem boys in their teens, such interference in their lives did not matter. They did what teens did in the 1950s and 1960s. They went to the movies, drew pictures of James Dean and Elvis Presley on the backs of their jackets, painted flames on their scooters, and chatted about girls. Today, they look at the huge mural in the museum hall, depicting a carefree, sunlit street scene. 'That's exactly how it was,' Addie said. 'We were barefoot, in shorts and playing happily. And it was beautiful.' The Herald Page 2
The Herald
08-05-2025
- General
- The Herald
Carefree days growing up in South End
It was, in every sense, a melting pot of cultures and faiths — be it coloured, black, white, Indian and Malay, from the Christian to Muslim, Hindu and Jewish faiths, and then also the large contingent of Italian, Greek and Chinese shopkeepers. 'There was so much harmony,' Brink said. 'Everyone knew each other. 'These days, people often don't even know their own neighbours. Moodley added: 'I think the big word here is 'respect'. 'And I so wish that in SA , we had much more of that. 'The time we grew up was a time of apartheid, and yet we could all communicate with each other and we respected each other. 'It proved that in spite of government policy, people of all backgrounds and cultures can get on with each other.' Arab countries had taken a stand when it came to the preservation of the Muslim mosques — the two which still stand at the site today — even going as far as taking the issue to the UN, Brink and Moodley said. 'In spite of apartheid, these were happy days for us,' Moodley said. 'People didn't need any government policy [controlling them], we proved in South End that people can get along.' Brink said there had been 'gangs' — such as the 'Black Shirts' — but these had been worlds apart from the sort of violence and bloodshed which permeates some of the gang-ridden sections of the northern areas today. These groupings had been more along the lines of school gangs which gave young people a sense of belonging. And sporting talent thrived in this community. ' There was football, cricket, rugby and softball — and there was fantastic talent coming out of that.' Both Brink and Moodley recall the forced removals as being traumatic for the families involved. 'Today some people don't understand the hurt and suffering we experienced.' South End was known for its home industry operations and what Moodley and Brink remember most vividly were the delicious samosas and koeksisters which they enjoyed as children. One of the saddest things for these South End veterans is the loss of a visible childhood landscape. 'We don't have an area where we can go to and say: 'This is where I grew up',' Moodley said. 'And that is so sad.
