On the shores of Lake Michigan, the tiny town of Ludington, Mich., is home port to the last coal-fired ferry in the U.S. The SS Badger has been making trips across the lake to Manitowoc, Wis., during the good-weather months since 1953. And as it runs, the 411-foot ferry discharges coal ash slurry directly into the lake.
An Environmental Protection Agency permit allows the Badger to dump four tons of ash into the lake daily. But now, the agency has put the permit under review — and that means the Badger could stop sailing.
Though the thought of horse meat in British lasagna or Ikea meatballs may be stomach-churning to some people, in some cultures the practice of eating horse meat is not just acceptable, it's a treat. NPR's Peter Kenyon just returned from the Central Asian republic of Kazakhstan and checked out the meat market at the Green Bazaar in Almaty.
For years, Canada has welcomed waves of newcomers from Latin America and the Caribbean. A thriving music scene has grown out of this migration — like the one at Lula Lounge, a nightclub in a working-class neighborhood of Toronto. The club's co-founder, Jose Ortega, cut his teeth in New York's legendary Latin scene. When he came to Toronto, he found the vibe fresher, more open to experimentation. And he found talent. It was just a matter of time before the country produced great Latin bands.
Boston-based R&B singer-songwriter Jesse Dee has opened for concerts by soul legends Etta James and Al Green, among others. Released last month, his debut album On My Mind, In My Heart is an energetic collection of funky, feel-good grooves.
This is TALK OF THE NATION. I'm Ari Shapiro in Washington; Neal Conan is away. Year by year, cities are raising fees and cutting public services to stay out of financial trouble. For some cities, that's just not enough. Detroit projects a $200 million deficit this year, and the city owes $14 billion in long-term obligations. The state's Republican Governor Rick Snyder says there's probably no city more financially challenged in the entire United States.
And now for the Opinion Page. Technology has always promised to fix our imperfections. In this 1950s TV ad, G.E. swore that a new refrigerator-freezer combo would make a housewife's problems disappear.
(SOUNDBITE OF ADVERTISEMENT)
UNIDENTIFIED MAN: We didn't have all this storage space in the door or conveniences like a butter conditioner, sliding shelves.
As early as silent film, directors attempted to create widescreen images. But in the 1950s it became a commercial necessity to give the multitude of new TV watchers what they couldn't get on a small screen. So even before CinemaScope, VistaVision, Todd-AO and Panavision, there was Cinerama — a process in which three projectors threw three simultaneous images onto a gigantic curved screen. Cinerama offered what no TV or movie screen could provide before — peripheral vision, which could make you feel as if you were really in the midst of the action.
Ed. Note: This article was originally published Nov. 2, 2011.
Photographer Jon Crispin has a fascination with things that are left behind. Those are his exact words. "Even as a kid I was trying to get into places I shouldn't go," he says on the phone.
In the '80s he was basically given free rein to document abandoned asylums in New York state. He has also worked closely and often with the New York State Museum, including on some Sept. 11 preservation projects.