Word: courtyard
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...first Saturday that dares to show a shaft of sunlight between the thickly knit clouds, we drag out the grills and declare a barbeque. Eager and willing to celebrate this long-anticipated new season, impatient Winthropians don Hawaiian shirts and sun-glasses. Music comes blasting into the courtyard from some heavenly sphere--or is it really only that fourth floor window? Miraculously, a tire swing appears in a nearby tree. Idyllic, you say. Just exactly how a spring day should be, you say. Well, you're wrong. Something is amiss with this picture...
...Holiday Season Special Effects Oscar goes to the Adams House Teas. Normally pretty sedate affairs, held every other Friday from 4:30 to 6 p.m. at Masters Robert and Jana Kiely's house in the courtyard of Randolph Hall, the tea rouses itself from cultured calm whenever it tally on a holiday. The St. Patrick's day tea, which has included cases of Guinness and poetry readings by resident Bard Seamus Heaney, gets the biggest kudos. On ordinary Fridays, however, the Adams teas are the first choice for people after cucumber sandwiches and quiet conversation...
...COUNTRY BE PROUD OF HIM! Forkel's patriotic exhortation is inscribed on a plaque attached to the wall of Prince Leopold's castle in Cothen. But someone standing in the run-down Cothen castle courtyard--part of the building is used as a state prison today--would be hard pressed to imagine how Bach could have been inspired by his surroundings. The Saxon plain is as flat as Kansas, its tiny villages grim studies in brown and gray; the ferocious reforming spirits of Lutheranism and Communism have done their work well. Similarly, it is hard to reconcile Luther's tiny...
...whose gray beard had been forcibly shaved to a silver stubble by a mob wielding knives. "They came to my house. They dragged my sons out. They put petrol on them and set them on fire." Near by, Purani Kaur, 60, leaned against a wall in the dusty school courtyard, her eyelids almost swollen shut. "They came to my house with swords and bricks," she said as friends reached out to steady her. "All my five sons and my son-in-law were killed." In a dark corner of a corridor, Amrit Kaur sat with her head swathed...
...side of the courtyard women squatted beside a fire, making bread. "There is no food, no water here supplied by the government," complained Satpal Singh, a government stenographer. "Now the people who killed us are free." A 90-year-old man showed the wound across his forehead where gangs of rampaging toughs had ripped off his turban and almost scalped him while cutting the hair that Sikhs must by religion keep unshorn...