Latest news with #Tonks
Yahoo
19-07-2025
- General
- Yahoo
A girl's death in Texas floods is her family's third loss this year. 3 mementos she left help her mom cope
The last time Lindsey McLeod McCrory saw her daughter Blakely alive, the young girl was heading to camp wearing a simple yet profound necklace – one that would later reconnect Blakely to her mother after she died. It was a green-and-white beaded Camp Mystic necklace – a tribute to the legendary Christian girls' camp in the foothills of Texas' Hill Country where Blakely was going. It's the same camp her mother and other women in the family had attended and forged lifelong memories. 'I gave this necklace to my daughter right before camp, and I advised her that if she didn't want to lose it – because she's 8 years old, and of course, they lose jewelry – I told her to wear it … during the whole time at camp,' McCrory told CNN on Friday. Blakely's new necklace served as a reminder of her mother's support at a time of immense loss. Blakely's father died from cancer in March. And just last month, she lost her uncle to illness. But Camp Mystic was a haven where Blakely's grief gave way to joy. 'She was so excited, and it came at such a good time since she lost her daddy,' McCrory said. 'It was a way for her to just heal with that sisterhood and her faith and just all of the fun activities.' Everything changed in the pre-dawn hours of July 4, when torrential rainfall and catastrophic flooding ripped through central Texas – claiming at least 135 lives, many near the Guadalupe River. At Camp Mystic, the cabins with the youngest campers were closest to the river. Blakely, along with 26 other Camp Mystic girls and counselors, perished in the deluge – forcing her family to endure yet another unfathomable tragedy. Despite the anguish, McCrory has found solace – thanks in part to letters that she received from Blakely after she died. Finding her tribe Even though Blakely was a new camper in a cabin full of strangers, she didn't seem nervous about going to camp. 'She loves the outdoors. She loves to fish, horseback ride,' her mother said. In a letter to her mother, Blakely said camp was 'amazing.' She was looking forward to playing tennis, going horseback riding and trying other sports, she wrote. The letter also said Blakely became a 'tonk' – something she had dreamed of. Every new girl at Camp Mystic draws a slip that tells them which 'tribe' they belong to – the Tonkawa or the Kiowa tribe. 'The tribe traditions, which have been handed down since Mystic's beginning' in 1926, 'help to emphasize team spirit, fun competition and good sportsmanship' during games, Camp Mystic's website says. 'After each game, the losing tribe commends the winning tribe who, in turn, compliments the losing tribe. Campers from opposite tribes pair up after each game and go up to Chapel Hill to pray.' Drawing a red slip meant the Tonkawa tribe. A blue slip signified the Kiowa tribe. Blakely 'wanted to be a Tonk really badly,' her mom said. 'Her two cousins are both Tonks. … So she wanted to be a Tonk so she could compete with her cousins' tribe.' The rituals instill 'sportsmanship and competition amongst the girls, which is so great for later on in life,' McCrory said. After Blakely drew a red slip, 'she was just ecstatic,' her mother said. In another letter, Blakely made an urgent request to her mother, who was getting ready to donate items because the family was preparing to move: 'PS. Please don't give my Barbie Dream house,' the 8-year-old scrawled on a colorful piece of paper. McCrory didn't receive those letters until after Blakely died. But the scribbled request forced a smile onto the grieving mother's face. 'It's just funny how a little girl's mind works. And that's why I laughed when I got the letter, because I could just hear her writing her thoughts down,' McCrory said. 'And it was just funny. … It was so Blakely.' 'I dropped the phone on the table, shaking' After sending Blakely off to camp, McCrory joined her sister and two nieces on a trip to Europe. It was the first such outing since the deaths of McCrory's husband, Blake, and her brother, Chanse McLeod – both within the last five months. When news trickled in overseas about some flooding at Camp Mystic, McCrory had no idea how bad it was. 'We were on a boat, and when we docked for lunch, we received some text messages' – including one reporting flooding at Camp Mystic. 'And so what popped in my mind – because we didn't have all of the full reports of the 30-foot surge – (was) that it was like the flood in 1987, when I was a camper.' Back then, 'you had to stay in your cabin for safety,' she said. 'They didn't want people walking in the mud and sliding around since there are so many hills. And they would bring food to us. And so that was what I first imagined it was.' McCrory then lost cell service and didn't receive a call from Camp Mystic. Eventually, she gained access to her voicemails and heard a horrid message: Blakely was missing. 'I just dropped the phone on the table, shaking,' she said. 'I was frozen when I heard that voicemail.' McCrory soon jumped on a plane back to Houston. At the same time, Blakely's half-brother and his mother scoured an evacuation center in Ingram, hoping to find Blakely. For two days, the family waited in anguish as crews trudged through thick mud and debris searching for victims and survivors. Then, on July 7, McCrory received the dreaded news: Blakely's body had been found. She was still wearing the Camp Mystic necklace her mom had given her – a piece of jewelry that helped identify her. Immense gratitude amid the grief For a widow who lost her husband, her only brother and her only daughter in just five months, McCrory is remarkably composed. She exudes an aura of calmness and even optimism. McCrory chalks it up to her faith, her family and her support network – all of which have ties to Camp Mystic. 'My faith is so strong. Actually, I was a camper at Camp Mystic, and I felt so close to my faith attending there as a camper,' she said. 'We had lovely devotionals on the waterfront where the Guadalupe River is, in the mornings, and then in the evenings, on Sundays, we went to Chapel Hill. And just the sisterhood, the faith – it just really brought me closer.' McCrory said she has learned how to cope after each tragedy and takes comfort in knowing her lost loved ones are together again. 'We lost my husband in March, and then my brother in June. So I think that prepared me for Blakely's loss,' she said. 'I'm coping very well. I have amazing love and support from people I know (and) from people I don't know. The mothers of the campers that were lost were on a group text, and were able to share stories and thoughts – and even funny moments.' As she prepared for Blakely's funeral Friday, McCrory wore the beaded necklace that she had given her daughter. 'My good friends from high school had it extended so that I could wear it, so I would have a touchstone close to my heart,' she said. She's also thankful for Blakely – and the fact that her final days were spent doing what she loved. 'She had the best time at camp. She went out on a happy note,' her mother said. And as the water started to rise, a counselor made a keen observation: 'Blakely was encouraging her cabinmates to not be afraid,' McCrory said. 'She was always a leader, encouraging others. So in my heart, I know it happened fast. And I'm just so grateful the life that she lived was so happy.'
Yahoo
12-05-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Mercyhurst University celebrates 2025 graduating class
Another batch of students made it to the finish line Sunday for a local college graduation. Students at Mercyhurst University walked the stage at Erie Insurance Arena Sunday afternoon to finish off their college careers. Gannon University hosts 2025 commencement ceremony Saturday Over 700 students received diplomas at the ceremony, as hundreds more cheered on the graduates from the stands. Mercyhurst also gave top honors to the recipient of the Carpe Diem Award, which goes to the student who made the most positive impact on the university. New Penn State Behrend grads hopeful as they enter uncertain job market 'I think Mercyhurst education and just Mercyhurst in general really helped us go out and do great things in the world, and I see a lot of potential in all of them, and I think we're going to go do great things,' said James Tonks, Carpe Diem Award recipient. As for what's next for Tonks, he said he will be finishing his master's degree at Mercyhurst while pursuing a job in college athletics. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
The Guardian
15-04-2025
- Business
- The Guardian
The rise of the digital fishmonger: how Covid helped customers buy fresh from the boat
The seafood chef and restaurateur Mitch Tonks recalls the moment things for him changed dramatically. It was March 2020, the start of Covid, when a local fishing boat skipper called him in a panic. 'Nick was having a tough time; nobody was buying his catch, so I emailed our customer network,' he says. Tonks asked people to bring cash and containers. The next morning, Nick landed his boat at Brixham, the south Devon port that is England's largest fish market by value of catch sold. 'About 150 people turned up to buy his fish. Many asked 'why can't we just buy fish straight off boats like this normally?'' 'That was my lightbulb moment,' says Tonks. 'The seafood retail industry is pretty broken: so much fish gets wasted; supermarkets are closing their fish counters. So I've worked backwards from the problems to streamline a very clunky supply chain.' Fortuitously, a year earlier he had built a dedicated premises at Brixham, next door to the fish market, to be able to bring fish direct to his own restaurants from the boats. But it was the pandemic that became the catalyst to enable home delivery – and now customers buy directly from the quayside through his company Rockfish's online seafood market, a digital fishmonger platform that supplies 12,000 homes with fish. Tonks is far from alone. Five years ago, with fish markets and restaurants closed, it looked like the end of the line for many fishers and fishmongers – then something changed. A combination of word-of-mouth and social media gave some of those who fish off the UK's shores the chance to reach new customers, resulting in new business models that have brought about a long-term shift in how some British fish is sold today. Mike Warner, a Suffolk-based seafood consultant, saw his business come to 'a grinding halt' during the pandemic, so he pivoted quickly. 'With fish markets closed, nobody could get any fish. But the sea bass season was about to begin on 1 April – that's a premium catch so I started working with Felixstowe fishermen.' He borrowed a van, arranged a licence, then drove their catch to independent fishmongers in London. 'I'd arrive at Rex Goldsmith, the Chelsea fishmonger in Cale Street, or the Notting Hill Fish Shop with a load of bass or lobster at 9am. There'd be queues of people, all socially distanced, waiting for us – it was quite something,' Warner says. 'London was like the set of a disaster movie – there was nobody there. It was an odd time, but a very lucrative time.' Once fish markets reopened, Warner could not compete with the buying power of mainstream suppliers. As that 'golden time' of lockdowns ended, he switched to supplying local restaurants and opened a fishmongers in Woodbridge, but not all fish retailers adapted. 'Some have gone bust, wound down or sold out,' says Warner, who is closing his shop this month as his online sales and consultancy get busier. Warner noticed a move towards online retail during Covid. 'The fish-box scheme had been proven to work. We started supplying the Wright Brothers [a premium seafood supplier] in London and the Wild Meat Company – they stopped doing wholesale completely. With just online retail, their turnover dropped but margins increased, so they became more profitable.' Catches can now fetch good prices, partly thanks to digital innovation, says Warner. Newlyn in Cornwall and Brixham fish markets have 'electronic clock' online auctions, rather than traditional 'shout' sales, so the fresh catch can fetch competitive prices from a wider range of buyers. Jeremy Grieve buys fish from Brixham at 6am while drinking coffee in his home office, 180 miles away in Guildford, Surrey. When Grieve joined the Fish Society, an online fish-box retailer, in 2016, the 'tide was beginning to turn' for e-commerce. By 2019, the company had developed a more advanced digital platform, but customers were not convinced that fish sent by courier would arrive fresh. 'We had an online fish-selling Ferrari, we just weren't in the right race. Covid gave us the opportunity to flex our muscles,' says Grieve, now chief executive of the Fish Society. On 23 March 2020, the then prime minister, Boris Johnson urged people to stay at home and use food-delivery services. Overnight, the Fish Society turnover grew by 400%. 'Business changed considerably – we went seven days a week, 24 hours a day for an extended period. 'Our team grew from about eight people to 30,' says Grieve. 'Our turnover this year will be about 700% higher than the year leading into Covid.' As well as delivering 1,500 weekly orders to customers, fish portions are sold to recipe-box companies and cruise ships. That is only possible, Grieve says, because fish is sold frozen. This minimises waste – if kept refrigerated, it's more likely to get thrown away when it approaches its expiry date. Before Covid, food was couriered in polystyrene boxes but as e-commerce markets expanded rapidly, so too did sustainable packaging options. The Fish Society switched to cardboard packing formats; Rockfish uses recycled ocean plastic containers that can be returned to the company in exchange for a credit towards subsequent purchases. Covid has provided opportunities for consumers too. 'If you want to know the provenance of a catch, to know what you are buying, you can find out. The traceability is there,' says Warner. 'Not everyone can buy online yet [due to often restricted delivery areas] or visit a local fishmonger, but it's a nettle that the industry has grasped.' Forecasts suggest that 2.3 million people in the UK will use food subscription boxes – or meal kits – this year. The pandemic had a 'seismic' effect on how people consume food at home, according to Seth McCurry, UK and Ireland senior commercial manager for the Marine Stewardship Council, the organisation that sets globally recognised standards for sustainable seafood. 'The rising profile of e-commerce platforms has offered unique opportunities for the seafood industry to connect with consumers in new ways,' says McCurry. 'This has been particularly true since a number of major retailers permanently closed their fish counters in the years following the pandemic.' Meanwhile, Tonks is trialling a virtual fish counter – a touchscreen that displays fresh fish for sale – at Gloucester motorway services on the M5. Soon, that will be rolled out into his own Rockfish restaurants across the south-west. 'To have sustainable fisheries for the future, not only do we have to change practices on the water,' he says, 'we also have to change practices on land.'
The Guardian
16-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘Fishing in Cornwall is like a metaphor for life': photographer Jon Tonks on landscape, community and the perfect catch
Two figures bend over a ship's gunwale, busy with a net, their bright yellow oilskins in brilliant contrast to the inky night. A flock of gulls, eerily spectral in the camera flash, frenzied by the impending catch, flap and wheel in a void so black that sea and sky are one. With their backs turned, it is unclear exactly what the figures are doing, but their straining forms and the intensity of the scene suggests swift, coordinated action. Unlike the quiet serenity that characterises many other photographs in this series, made among fishing communities in Cornwall by Birmingham-born photographer Jon Tonks, this image reflects a precarious – and occasionally perilous – livelihood. 'Being out on the boat, you don't think you're in a dangerous situation, but you realise just how quickly it could all go wrong,' says Tonks, whose project A Fish Called Julie is the result of 18 months spent on the coast and at sea, between Newlyn, the Isles of Scilly, Mousehole and Cadgwith. 'If you slipped over, went overboard, or got your foot caught in a line, it could be really dangerous.' Fortunately, Tonks avoided any such calamity during his time at sea, his most severe injury sustained from long stretches holding his medium-format camera aloft. 'It felt hilarious at times, being on a fishing boat that's rolling around in the dark, trying to change a roll of film or make my flash work. And, of course, using a Hasselblad – it's a mirror, so what I'm looking at is inverted. It's amazing I didn't get seasick … ' The project, which goes on show at the Martin Parr Foundation, Bristol, next month, is part of We Feed the UK, a nationwide storytelling campaign by biocultural diversity organisation the Gaia Foundation, tasking photographers and poets to raise awareness of sustainable food producers across soil, seed and sea. From August 2023, Tonks made more than a dozen visits to the coast from his home in Bath. 'Fishermen are really hard to get hold of,' says the 44-year-old with a wry smile. 'It's not an email situation, it's a turn up at the harbour situation.' Relying on word of mouth and personal recommendations, Tonks quickly discovered a community willing to collaborate. 'First, I went down and had a really good meeting with some people working in the sustainable fishing world to discuss what is considered sustainable,' says Tonks. 'Some of the early conversations were about the size of the boat – people suggested sustainability is about a boat that's under 10 metres.' Deliberately choosing to avoid big trawlers – which with their superior size, manpower and technology can remain at sea longer, cast nets wider and locate fishing grounds more accurately – Tonks instead focused on smaller boats. These vessels supplied less than 15% of all fish landed in Cornish ports in 2021, yet represent a more sustainable alternative. Not only does their size dictate they pay greater heed to the elements, allowing fish stocks to replenish in bad weather, but with their ability to change quickly between fishing gear – from nets, to lines, dredges and traps – they land a more selective and sustainable catch. 'Fishing in Cornwall is like a metaphor for life,' explains Tonks. 'I love the notion that fishermen are completely governed by what the sun and wind are doing, what's in season and what type of boat they're going out on.' Working in harmony with the seasons and weather lends the series its rhythm. All-action shots at sea contrast with quieter moments on land; fishermen chewing the fat; Christmas lights in Mousehole on Tom Bawcock's Eve, the annual festival celebrating a fisherman who braved stormy seas to alleviate his village's hunger. This causal relationship between environment and culture has been at the heart of Tonks's practice since completing his masters at London College of Communication. While studying, Tonks visited Ascension Island, the British-governed territory, roughly the size of Disney World, in the middle of the South Atlantic. That trip became the catalyst for Empire, his 2013 book exploring vestiges of British colonialism on four remote islands. Tonks's second book, The Men Who Would Be King (2021), saw him once again investigating the legacy of imperialism via ancestral belief systems and the assimilation of Anglo-American ideals on the archipelago nation of Vanuatu in the South Pacific. Though local by comparison, A Fish Called Julie represents a similar dialogue between landscape and community, a place where, 'you'd wake up in the morning, open your curtains and look at what the sea's doing'. Indeed, the project's title stems from this close proximity: 'I'd been watching these guys off-load their catch all day, and there was this one box with two sea bass with a label on it that read 'Julie'. It just made me laugh,' explains Tonks. 'I don't know who Julie is – it could be the name of a boat – but it made me think the fish is for someone called Julie who asked, 'If you've got any sea bass, I'll take them.'' This emphasis on local, seasonal fishing and consumption represents the urgent policy required by the industry to safeguard its longevity. 'We shouldn't be able to walk into our local supermarket and say, 'What do I fancy today?'' says Tonks. 'You should be asking, 'What do you have?' We're too attuned to having everything we want, whenever we want it.' Yet in spite of prevailing customer habits, which Tonks hopes will change with rising awareness, the past 18 months have left the photographer with more reasons for optimism than concern. 'A lot of the younger guys I've been out with are really conscious about longevity,' says Tonks. 'They're very mindful about not catching something because they know it needs time to replenish.' 'I really didn't want this to be a series of weathered fishermen. Of course, there's a couple of weathered-looking chaps in there, but there's also signs of youth coming through. I think it's important for people in their 20s to see that it's a viable career option, and there's enough information and energy for a good future.' A Fish Called Julie by Jon Tonks is at the Martin Parr Foundation, Bristol, from 3 April to 22 June
Yahoo
29-01-2025
- Climate
- Yahoo
More Than 100 Sea Turtles Rescued In Florida Cold Snap
People weren't the only ones feeling the chill during a recent winter storm that froze parts of the Sunshine State. Dozens of cold-stunned sea turtles were rescued after temperatures plunged. An 'exhausting and relentless' five days: In one case, two officers with the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission, or FWC, rushed to pull 30 turtles from the waters around Apalachicola Bay and the Gulf of Mexico in the Florida Panhandle. In another, the University of Florida Sea Turtle Hospital at Whitney Laboratory received 100 patients from Jan. 22 through Jan. 26. The facility is located in St. Augustine, on Florida's Atlantic Coast. "Our hospital shifted into full emergency mode to triage cold-stunned green sea turtles," a social media post from the lab read, calling the mission "exhausting and relentless." Each morning, FWC personnel arrived to take the turtles to other facilities in order to make room for more. The lab noted the uptick in rescues was expected based on the weather forecast. Cold water is dangerous for sea turtles: Winter Storm Enzo brought frigid air into the Southeast, causing the northern Gulf Coast of Florida to reach lows well below freezing. When the water temperatures drop even as low as the 50s, sea turtles are susceptible to becoming "cold-stunned," digital meteorologist Sara Tonks, who also holds a masters in marine science, said Wednesday. When that happens, they can become lethargic and unable to swim. "When a turtle becomes cold-stunned, the most important thing is to get the turtle out of the cold water as quickly as possible," Tonks said. "Rescue teams have to act fast to get as many turtles into controlled environments so that they can be safely warmed back up.' The turtles rescued following Winter Storm Enzo were taken to facilities where trained sea turtle veterinarians can take care of them until they are healthy enough to be released back into the wild. Winter Storm Enzo was historic for Florida: The state's all-time 24-hour snowfall record was shattered when more than 9 inches of snow was measured on Jan. 22 in the Florida Panhandle town of Milton. The previous record was 4 inches set in 1954 in the same area. Beaches were covered in snow, as was Interstate 10, the main east-west corridor across North Florida. Nearly half of the state's 67 school districts were shut down for at least one day because of the storm. Some were closed for the entire week. -Florida Manatee Rebound Continues, But It's Not All Good News -Storm Takes Out Hundreds Of Florida Sea Turtle Nests -Saving Dogs And Cats From Asheville's Ruins 'Is Just Everything' staff writer Jan Childs covers breaking news and features related to weather, space, climate change, the environment and everything in between.
