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Rezo Hunchback
Rezo Hunchback

One Fateful Night [UPDATED]



"At the time of the robbery I had just dropped out of Berklee College of Music. I was playing in a band, and working night shift at the museum," Abath said during a recent visit to StoryCorps with his wife, Diana. "I was just this hippie guy who wasn't hurting anything, wasn't on anybody's radar and the next day I was on everybody's radar for the largest art heist in history."




One Fateful Night



"You know, most of the guards were either older or they were college students," 48-year-old Abath continued. "Nobody there was capable of dealing with actual criminals. But that night two cops rang the doorbell. They had hats, badges, they looked like cops, and I let them in. They said, 'Are you here alone?' And I said, 'I have a partner that's out on a round.' They said, 'Call him down.' And they said, 'Gentlemen this is a robbery.' "


This is how police found Rick Abath after the theft. The former night watchman will never forget the night he was tricked into letting two thieves into Boston's Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. He worries others won't forget it either. Courtesy of Boston Police Department hide caption


Following these threads to their tragic outcome in July 1960, and beyond, Belkin examines the coincidences and choices that led to one fateful night. The result is a brilliantly researched, narratively ingenious story, which illuminates how we shape history even as we are shaped by it.


Laylat al-Qadr, variously called the Night of Power, Decree, Value or Destiny, is the holiest night in the Muslim calendar. It is the night when the first verses were revealed to the Prophet Muhammad, and it has become the moment in the year when Muslims believe their prayers have maximum worth.


It is worth returning to that dramatic night three years ago. At the time, we were told that bin Nayef was stripped of all of his posts and MBS installed in a vote by Hayat al-Beyaa, the Allegiance Council set up by the previous King Abdullah. This happened at dawn. An awkward video was released of MBS kissing the hand of bin Nayef.


And so, that fateful night three years ago was to have been the first big test for the Allegiance Council. It failed miserably. The council had already lost its chairman, Mishaal bin Abdulaziz, who died in May 2017 and was not replaced. According to the rules of the council, it should only be considered quorate if two-thirds of its members turn up, if it has a chairman, and if a vote is passed by more than half of its members.


"Where is she?" he shouted from inside the suite. "Where is who dad?" Arnav answered. Amit walked back outside looking at his son directly into his eyes showing he was already furious and not to make him angrier. "Don't toy with me Arnav where is she?" "Who dad? I have no idea who you are talking about?" Arnav shot back trying to hold himself up while his head rested against the wall. "Where is the girl who you had here overnight like you always do every time you hold a party?" "Can you see anyone except you and me in here? No nah. So it is obvious there was no here with me last night." "Arnav you know I don't believe you. Knowing you, you must got rid of her before I got here. Like you always seem to." Arnav just smirked at this knowing full well how true it was. He titled his head forward and looked at his dad. "Dad if there was someone here wouldn't you have found them by now?" Arnav had so obviously pointed out. Amit just glared at his son. He walked towards him. Arnav and Amit just glared at one another neither looking away. "Your mum's worried" Amit said finally breaking the silence. "I'll be home soon" Arnav said after calming down. Amit gave one of his disappointed looks was about to walk out and turned back. "By the way your sister was here last night." "What?" Arnav looking shocked. "I told her not to come at any of them." "She's your sister. You're forgetting she worships you. Of course she is not going to listen. Look who she has as a role model" Amit pointed out. "Why can't you be more like your brother Akash?" Arnav hated that his dad always compared him to his elder brother. "Yeah well not all of us can be saint Akash now can we" with a hint of sarcasm. "Don't talk about your brother like that" Amit hissed. Arnav just smirked before moving away heading to pick up his other clothes of the floor. Amit left from there as soon as Arnav had walked away.


Arnav headed towards the cupboard, took out some clothes and towel and headed into the bathroom. He went and stood in front of the large mirror on one side of the wall behind the sink basin. His eyes were puffy like he hadn't slept and his hair tousled like someone had been rummaging through them but no one had been in his room and for the life of him he could not remember what had happened the previous night.


"Arnav so what time is your party tonight" Rohan asked over the phone while Arnav had been getting ready to go. "Usual time as always but if you still need clarification eight o'clock at the guesthouse" Arnav answered exasperated at his friend. Rohan wasn't bad but had a habit of annoying Arnav from time to time. "So who you bringing tonight?" Rohan asked with a glint in his voice. "Annika" came the reply. "Nooo! She is hot. How'd you manage that?" surprise in Rohan's voice. "If I told you, you may just start using my techniques to get the girls and as you know in that department Arnav Singh Raizada does not share anything except of course the after details" he replied while laughing. "Yeah well with Arnav Singh Raizada around none of us get a look in anyway. All the girls are too busy eyeing you up" Rohan said with a hint of jealousy. "Jealous are we Rohan. I did tell you not to commit with one girl didn't I?" Arnav could not keep his laughter at bay. "Oy! You can say whatever you want about me but do not bring Priya into this. Anyhow she did reject you remember." Arnav cringed at the thought. He had never had a girl reject him which hurt slightly but he got over it pretty soon afterwards seeing how Priya's elder sister Rohini was taking interest. He grinned at the thought remembering how that turned out. "Listen Rohan I got to go I do of course need to be late for my own party" smirking at his own words. Arnav put the phone down finished putting his laptop away. Looked around his office to make sure nothing else needed to be done and went. He avoided speaking to his father and brother as he knew they would make him stay and he just didn't need the hassle.


This paper presents a story that captures forever a 'difficult', 'horrible' but in many respects totally 'normal' nursing moment. It is a short story of only one person's reality. On that fateful night in which many lives were changed forever, there were, of course, many realities, all of which hold their own truth. This tale is offered in the spirit of sharing and in the hope that others may find it useful. I believe that 'story telling' allows us to revisit and review our practice. In doing so, stories facilitate the discovery of nursing knowledge and the self. Ultimately this contributes to the development of expert practice. Nursing stories, then, become an excellent medium for nursing inquiry, from both an academic and a clinical perspective.


Spence Ingerson is a superhero. Over her thirty years of singing with the May Festival, there have been many occasions when she has rushed to her car just as the first claps of applause began, did a quick change into her scrubs in the parking lot, and made it to her night shift at Good Samaritan Hospital just in time.


Tina continues, "I said, 'You know what? I'm just going to do it.' " So she picked up a used projector at one estate sale and a box of slides at another. Both wound up in their back room untouched - until one fateful night.


Fast forward past a successful open-mike-night presentation and a talent show win, and suddenly The Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players became Seattle darlings. That's when Tina packed everyone into the '84 Chevy van and moved them to New York in pursuit of a bigger audience. Once again, her vision proved wise.


The story of Ida Scudder's visionary mission begins in the late1800's when she was a young American girl reluctantly visiting her medicalmissionary father, John Scudder, at his post in Tamil Nadu, South India.One fateful night, Ida was asked to help three women from differentfamilies struggling in difficult childbirth. Custom prevented theirhusbands from accepting the help of a male doctor for them and beingwithout training at that time, Ida herself could do nothing. The nextmorning she was shocked to learn that each of the three women had died.She believed that it was a calling and a challenge set before her by Godto begin a ministry dedicated to the health needs of the people of India,particularly women and children. Consequently, Ida went back to America,entered medical training (practically unheard of for women at that time)and, in 1899, was one of the first women graduates of the Cornell MedicalCollege.


Julien staggered down the streets of South Beach trying to figure out where he had parked. He wasn't as much drunk as he was exhausted. It had been a heavy night of partying and he was drained. Just moments ago he realized it was past 3am and decided to call it a night. He parted company with his friends and exited the smoky confines of a nightclub, into the open streets of the early morning. The south Florida air was unseasonably cool; the winds coming off the water rushing against his face were a great refresher. Squinting his dark brown eyes, Julien breathed a sigh of relief as he recognized the side street where he had parked up ahead.


He made his way along the street admiring the wonderful scenery that was the South Beach strip at night. Just as he approached the side street he took notice of a young girl sitting on the sidewalk. She was sat on the curb in front of a restaurant which, by the look of things, had closed up hours ago. Julien also noticed that this section of the strip was unusually desolate. The girl had her head hung between her knees and as Julien made his way past her, he could clearly hear her sobbing. Julien had reached the corner. He looked down the street and saw the parking lot where he had parked. It was the opposite direction however, that he headed. His good conscious kicked in and he walked back over to the girl. Standing in front her, he looked down and saw only her brunette hair. He cleared his throat to announce his presence, 041b061a72


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