Month: October 2016

It’s only going to be a small section in my book, but I looked into the story of Mary Ellen Wilson, a child who was taken from Blackwell’s Island and put into an abusive situation. Investigation of her treatment ultimately led to the creation on the New York Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. I went uptown to the New-York Historical Society to see if I could find the original papers for Mary Ellen’s indenture. It was my understanding that she was indentured and not adopted. An indenture is a contract entered into with, in this case, the Department of Charities and Correction. A child was bound out as a servant or an apprentice, and in return the child had to be fed, cared for, educated, and taught a skill. Anyone taking a child was to report on the child’s condition and progress once a year, but follow-up at the time was lax. At the end of the indenture period the now grown child had to be supplied with a set of clothes, a pair of shoes and a small amount of money.

I was only looking into it because it was insane how easy it was to get children who essentially became slaves. Which is not to say that all people who indentured children treated them that way, or badly.

As you can see from Mary Ellen’s contract, from the couple’s point of view it was an adoption. All terms referring to the indenture were crossed out and filled with in terms describing an adoption, ie, Apprentice was crossed out and they wrote in “Child,” and Master was crossed out and they wrote in “Parent. Thomas McCormick would later claim that Mary Ellen was his daughter with another woman. But I looked through the logbooks and many of the indentures had the same cross-outs. It’s telling that indenture and adoption were handled the same way.

Okay, I watched maybe five minutes. Based on my one brief snapshot, they both did well by their candidate. I wish that every time Pence lied and said that Trump hadn’t said what Trump most assuredly did say, Kaine had said, “What’s almost as disturbing is your lying to my face, the moderator’s face, and to the faces of every American, because we know you know that Trump said X.”

Passed by on my way to the dentist. It does seem like a horribly barbaric practice.

Regardless of whatever his diagnosis turns out to be, Finney is still acting as he always does. He’s certainly feeling up to stalking mice, which is what he’s doing in the picture here. (Our building has a mice problem, which is not problem from the cat’s point of view, of course.) That’s the biopsy site on his right hip. It’s a sad, lumpy mess even though they removed a ton of the mass that was there, so I’m not feeling particularly hopeful. But I’m curling up with him and enjoying the time we have now. Oh God, I sound so pathetic, but I do love them so.

It’s hard to see, but I loved this sign in a window in the West Village. It says: Hill Yeah! I don’t know how we can face the rest of the world if we don’t elect her.

I used to drum in a band called Manhattan Samba. The band still exists, and most of the people in the photo still drum, but it’s been a while for me. I still love my former bandmates though, thank you Maddie and Hamilton for hosting this dinner party! (Damnit, I think I’m kinda tall, but once again, here is proof that I am not. Not that it matters, but it’s always a surprise.)