December 30, 2004-January 5, 2005
cover story
We revisit our biggest stories of 2004.
![]() GIANT STEPS: Abby Padilla says she's "75 percent there." Photo By: Michael T. Regan |
"Back to Life," Jan. 1, 2004
The Story: On June 29, 2003, Abby Padilla's life was forever changed. The beautiful 17-year-old, who had just weeks earlier graduated from George Washington High School in the Northeast, was driving to work when a car ran a red light and careened into her. The police found Abby unconscious. She was not bloodied or bruised. Her face had not a scratch. But, shaken fiercely in the accident, Abby had sustained severe brain trauma. Countless numbers of her brain tracks had been sheared in the accident. For 40 days, Abby lingered in a coma. Doctors were extremely grim about the chances of recovery. Abby's deeply religious mother prayed for a miracle and got one. On her 18th birthday, while doctors and family stood at her hospital bed singing, "Happy Birthday," Abby shed two tears and embarked on what many can only describe as a miraculous recovery.
What happened next: "People have the wrong idea about coma patients," explains Abby's mother Blanca. "It's not like on TV when a person wakes up and suddenly everything is honky dory. You have to start all over. Your brain is like an open book and needs to be reorganized." Abby had to learn to walk and talk again and relearn simple everyday tasks like combing her hair and crossing the street. She has succeeded at every step, in amazement of her doctors, who still cannot explain the speed and scope of her recovery.
"I am about 75 percent there," says Abby who, through fierce determination and courage, has learned to walk on her own and has regained full strength in most of her muscles. "My thinking is God started healing me," she says. "He's not going to leave me where I am now. He'll finish what he started."
After reading CP's original story on Abby, Dr. James Brady of Bensalem approached the Padilla family and offered his services free of charge. Brady has since outfitted Abby's basement with physical therapy equipment and continues to assist her on the road to recovery. "He has become a very important part of the family," says Blanca.
For her part, Abby will accept nothing less than a full recovery and is setting her sights on college.
"There have been many, many times when I've been sad," says Abby, "but I just try and concentrate on the good things." --Original story, Ralph Cipriano; Update, Mike Newall
The story: In January, local activist Susannah Park and the People for the Elimination of Racially Insensitive Language (PERIL) launched a grassroots campaign urging two Philadelphia establishments to change names that many considered racially insensitive: Chink's Steak Shop and Chink's Barber Shop. In June, Chink's Barber Shop legally became Wayne's Barber Shop. Still, the West Philly shop owners had difficulty finding a sign maker to formalize the change; most didn't want to get engulfed in the controversy.
What happened next: Barbershop owner Sandra Viola Nelson has finally found a sign maker who is willing to make the new sign and they'll do it for free. Glenn Hing the attorney who helped the shop legally change its name is a member of the Asian American Bar Association was asked to be a member of the Governor's Advisory Commission on Asian American Affairs. He plans on pushing state legislation that would make it illegal for corporations to use racially offensive monikers.
Chink's Steak Shop got a boost when Philadelphia magazine labeled Park's campaign the "Worst Complaint" in their Best of Philly 2004 issue. Meanwhile, the Torresdale steak-shop owner, Joseph Groh, remained steadfast. "I'm not changing nothing. And that's where I'm standing on it. I'm sticking to my guns." --Helen i-lin Hwang
![]() A REMINDER NO MORE: The Pete Kent crime scene was razed this year. Photo By: Michael T. Regan |
The story: On Feb. 28, 2003, a pair of homeless men foraging for scrap metal made a grisly discovery in the crumbling property at 1520 N. Eighth St. Face down under various debris was the body of 60-year-old Willie "Pete" Kent. When police turned the body over, what they found made for a horror mystery the likes of which Philadelphia has rarely seen. Kent's throat had been slashed, his chest was cut and ripped open from neck to stomach and many of his internal organs were missing. A year later, his family faced a double-pronged pain: Not only had the police not made an arrest, but they still had to see property in which Kent was found just about every day, even though they'd been told it would be demolished. City officials said the demolition was held up as an entire swath of dilapidated properties on that block would be simultaneously cleared.
What happened next: In late July, the Neighborhood Transformation Initiative made it's way to the 1500 block of North Eighth Street and removed the scene of the crime from the face of North Philadelphia, leaving nothing but a half-block long tract of smoothed-over dirt.
"It feels good not to have to look at that anymore, but the pain never goes away," says Earthadine Christy, who had one child with Kent, the beloved "Mayor of Seventh Street." Making it more difficult to cope nearly two years later is the fact that despite the dogged work of investigators who've done everything from canvass the neighborhood to study up on voodoo rituals police still have no idea who killed Kent. --Brian Hickey
The story: When we last saw our fearless heros Tim and Eric, they were closing down one sweetly goofy epoch of their lives and about to embark on another one entirely. Having charmed the whole of the East Coast indie-comedy scene with their wildly eccentric short films (of both the sketch and spoof variety), screened at every hipster dive, and thoroughly driven a series of hapless employers crazy, they went west to try their hand at the big dog: Television. Aided and abetted by comedy biz mentor Bob Odenkirk (of Mr. Show fame), the pair were busy at work prepping one of their shorts, Tom Goes To The Mayor, as a new program for Adult Swim on The Cartoon Network.
What happened next: Well, it seemed like a long time coming, but Tom Goes To The Mayor debuted on Adult Swim this fall, featuring cameos from David Cross, Jeff Garlin and Jack Black. "We've been good," says Eric. "We're in the middle of our first season of Tom. The ratings have been good and the press loves the show! Keep your fingers crossed." Not content to stand still for even a moment, the dynamic duo also has their sights set on the next thing. "We're also pitching the "Tim and Eric Show' and getting some great interest." --Joey Sweeney
The story: In early February, an 8-year-old girl was nearly raped and murdered in the bathroom of the Free Library's Independence Branch near Seventh and Market streets. The perpetrator, Brian McCutcheon, a homeless man diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenic, turned himself in to police and pleaded guilty to a slew of charges, including attempted rape, attempted murder and sexual abuse. The child's mother was fired from her job as a waitress at a corner Chinese noodle restaurant when she left work to attend to her child on the day of the assault. The father of the victim spoke exclusively with City Paper about how the child and family was coping with the attack. He also expressed gratitude for the donations that have poured in from strangers.
What happened next: McCutcheon's sentencing is scheduled for Jan. 14. The little girl still sleeps by her mother's side and is struggling in school. Though she has physically recovered from the assault, her parents are thinking about taking her to see a counselor at Children's Hospital on the recommendation of a social worker who still comes to visit. She's still not the same as she was before the incident and has shown little improvement in recent months. According to the father, the girl's mother has been working as an office assistant in the elementary school the child attends. The father completed bartending school, hoping to make more money, but he returned to his restaurant server job since he couldn't find a job pouring drinks. The Support Fund is still in need of more donations to help the child now and in the future. Checks and donations can be mailed to Asian Bank The Support Fund, 1008 Arch St., Philadelphia, Pa., 19107. --Helen i-lin Hwang
![]() FULL AND VOID: The ICA show had "a life of its own." Photo By: Michael T. Regan |
The story: The Institute of Contemporary Art, a nationally recognized pioneer in vanguard exhibitions since 1963, launched a citywide conversation about nothing this summer, and managed to get 36 local arts and cultural organizations to come along for the ride. "The Big Nothing," anchored by an ICA exhibition of the same name, addressed issues of nothingness, emptiness, nihilism, even nonsense all with the firm belief that there was something there. Through painting, sculpture, installation art, film and performances, the festival of sorts managed to unite Philly's visual art community in a way that had been done only on smaller levels in exhibition-related programming over the years. Implicitly, too, there were a few loftier goals: to draw large numbers of both native Philadelphians and tourists to a show with a somewhat arcane theme (and during a rather dry season for the arts at that), and forge relationships among curators and programmers who often work in a vacuum, so that similar ventures in the future might not be so difficult to imagine.
What happened next: ICA curator and "Big Nothing" creator Ingrid Schaffner said the idea of a show about nothing "started to have a life of its own," as dozens of organizations signed on to participate. As the shows popped up over the summer at venues as large as the Philadelphia Museum of Art and as small as the Edgar Allen Poe Museum, momentum built, bolstered by help from the Greater Philadelphia Tourism and Marketing Corporation and a clever marketing campaign, including an illustrated map by Abacus Studios. The show received international attention from the likes of Art Forum and the Financial Times, but reviews were mixed. The New York Times' Michael Kimmelman called it "an overstuffed mess of a survey, too long incubated in the minds of its curators and short on catchy visuals, but I'm glad to have come across it anyway." Though attendance was difficult to quantify, the ICA's report says 70,178 people took some part in the summer-long exhibitions and events, and more than 400 attended one of the more diverse programs, the Nothing Cabaret. "Curatorially speaking, [it] was a great success," Schaffner says. "The programming throughout the community was incredibly creative some of it created especially for the them, some already on the books and hooked into "nothingness.'" Her final word? "Could it happen again? Nothing happens all the time." --Lori Hill
The story: When we last left the worker-owned company, Phoenix Foods was about to become a swamp. The basil plants in the half-acre, state-of-the-art greenhouse were rotting on their floating rafts, as the fish below nibbled at their roots. The jobs created for the nearby West Philly neighborhood would be lost, and about $2 million in public and private funds would be wasted. And, Phoenix's founder, former CEPA consumer advocate Lance Haver, would be on the hook, personally, for several hundred thousand dollars. Hope was waiting in the wings, but it was on-again, off-again for a potential buyer who might save the farm. the buyer wondered if the state and other lenders would refinance the business or just foreclose on it.
What happened next: The lenders foreclosed, the Phoenix died and the buyer disappeared. But as the farm's high-tech assets were being sold, on the horizon appeared another, very large dark horse who wanted the land under the farm. And so out of the embers of Phoenix Food behold! a brand new Lowe's home improvement store will arise and Haver's personal financial woes will disappear.
"Sometimes you just have dumb luck," says Haver, now the Mayor's Director of Consumer Affairs. Haver started the fair-wage urban farm to offer an alternative to low-wage, dead-end jobs of giant corporate retailers. As it turns out, a "big box" saved Haver's bacon.
"I guess there's some kind of humor," says Haver, "that the very kind of jobs that we were trying to offer an alternative to will let me escape from financial disaster and total despair."
Meanwhile, as the city's consumer advocate, Haver says he recently worked on dedicated funding for SEPTA, fighting to lower Philadelphia car insurance rates and looking for a way to keep the heat in the homes of some 20,000 Philadelphia families who face being cut off this winter. --Bruce Schimmel
The story: Bread, potatoes, pasta and fruit were out; meat and low-carb snack bars were in, for the 10 million Americans who claimed to be going low-carb. Our big restaurant town reacted to the trend in different ways. Loie introduced a whole low-carb menu, mirroring the French cuisine it offered regularly but just leaving out potatoes; South Street Philly Bagels spent six months devising a bagel without white flour; and two young entrepreneurs started Trend Café, the first cafe and grocery spot to cater exclusively to the carb-conscious. The result was a dent in other businesses: Metropolitan Bakery's sales of loaves slumped 15 percent in early 2004, reflecting New Year's dieters.
What happened next: Seven months is a long time in food fads. "People are buying bread again," says Metropolitan's co-owner Wendy Born, noting that sales of whole-grain loaves have revived from the January and February slump. "We learned to weather the storm and consumers are again making high-fiber breads part of their diet." Sales in their whole-grain loaves rose from 5,842 units in October last year to 7,645 units in October this year.
Loie's offerings, which had taken half the space on the menu, have been removed. Chef Jeremy Duclut explains there's a menu note promising to de-carb any dish upon request. How many times is that request made per night? "Between five and none."
There have been some successes: The South Street bagel invention continues to be baked and bought. And Trend Café has expanded to its second location (inside Shapes Gym at 1420 Locust St.), with two more gym-based spots (in South Philly's Fitness Works and East Falls Fitness) opening in January. However, owner John Monte explains, "We've shifted from low-carb to more vegan foods, salads. The new places are more like juice bars."
A study, released this month by NPD Group, a marketing information company, announced that the percentage of Americans nationwide who claim to be low-carb has dropped from 9.1 percent in February to 4.9 percent by early November. That's tough on the businesses who designed no less than 930 low-carb products this year. Duclut philosophically says, "At one point, it was cool to do the diet. Now, it's not so much." Born, whose business took a big hit but survived, adds concern for the people who staked everything on the low-carb trend: "I'm sorry to see them go out of business because of a fad." --Juliet Fletcher
The story: Walter Ogrod is currently on death row in Pennsylvania for the 1988 murder of 4-year-old Barbara Jean Horn. Ogrod's original trial, in 1992, ended in a mistrial when the jury, presented with a disputed confession and no physical evidence linking Ogrod to the crime, voted 11-1 to acquit him. At his second trial four years later, Ogrod was convicted. The only "new" evidence at the second trial was the testimony of a jailhouse snitch, Jay Wolchansky. Wolchansky's testimony was the fabrication of another jailhouse snitch, John Hall, a friend of Wolchansky's who was pulled off the Ogrod case in order to testify in the equally high-profile "Jogger Murder" case. Hall was subsequently proven to have lied in the Jogger case, and in the fall of last year, he wrote a series of letters about the Ogrod case, outlining how he made up the story Wolchansky told and the deals both men got for their fabrications.
What happened next: After my article came out, my hope that the evidence I presented of convictions based on the word of an admitted liar would be an important story in Philadelphia that would prompt bigger news organizations to look into the cases proved baseless. I was contacted by family members of two other men Hall helped put away (in his letters he refers to several cases, in addition to Ogrod, in which he fabricated information for prosecutors) and by a juror from the second Ogrod trial, who expressed some concern about the information that had been put before them. Efforts to find Ogrod a new lawyer are ongoing, and I am still working on a book about the case. --Tom Lowenstein
![]() LOVES IT: Sarah Dunn's first novel was one of the year's hottest debuts. Photo By: Michael T. Regan |
The story: In July, former City Paper columnist Sarah Dunn published her first novel, The Big Love, a look at life and love from the perspective of a neurotic but affable evangelical Christian-turned-Philadelphia alternative newsweekly writer. While at CP, Dunn wrote The Official Slacker Handbook, which catapulted her onto talk shows as a Gen-X spokeswoman. Dunn then delved into the world of television sitcom writing, bouncing between Los Angeles and New York for years on shows like Murphy Brown and Spin City. But with The Big Love, she released the novel she always knew was waiting to get out.
What happened next: Dunn is still living in New York with her own big love. Meanwhile, the book's sold thousands of copies, rights have been sold in 20 countries and the paperback's due in June. Publishers Weekly called the book one of this year's hottest debuts, and Entertainment Weekly named Dunn a "Future Breakout," saying, "The Spin City scribe wooed critics with The Big Love, a witty, chick-literate take on the single life." Universal Pictures has optioned the book, with Stephen Sommers (Van Helsing) on board to produce. "I'm really happy about the Universal option, although my whole strategy at the moment involves not thinking about it or anything else while I'm working on a new novel. They seem to be very excited about it," Dunn says. "But, you know, I'm not exactly shopping for a dress to wear to the premiere just yet." --Lori Hill
The story: Two former produce-department employees of the Whole Foods Market at 10th and South streets charged the organic-grocery giant with unfair labor violations. Their accusations led to a protest, punctuating months of labor unrest. After both cases were settled out of court, workers talked about unionizing while the union-busting conglomerate waged a war of attrition against sympathizers.
What happened next: An anonymous employee says about 25 percent of the store's workers have been fired, including nine of 15 in the produce department since the story appeared in City Paper. (While calls to the supermarket for comment went unreturned, the chain's regional marketing director, Sarah Kenney, noted "there have been no problems and everything is running as efficiently as ever.")
The issue, however, spread beyond the supermarket itself. Several months ago, South Street workers were in contact with the Philadelphia branch of the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW). From there, some banded together to form the South Street Workers Union (SSW), which currently has 20 members in seven South Street businesses. "We had been researching and surveying different employers along South Street and found out that the chains pay less on South Street," says Alexis Buss, IWW spokeswoman. "I think employers want to try and sell the mystique of the corridor and get away with trying to pay less." SSW organizers hope to double its membership within a year. They've already staged free health-clinic days and hope to establish a worker-abuse hotline. --Dan Keashen
The story: About four years ago, little-known Center City attorney Chris Warren got the career break of a legal lifetime. Having made a good impression on a U.S. district judge while representing a South Philadelphia man on shooting charges, Warren was handpicked to represent Angelo "Fat Ange" Lutz in the mob trial that ultimately sent Joey Merlino and a slew of his compadres to prison for a spell. During that trial, however, Warren made a name for himself as one of the city's premier go-to attorneys. As such, it made perfect sense that he was drafted to co-represent power broker Ronald A. White in the City Hall corruption case.
What happened next: When White succumbed to pancreatic cancer in early November, Warren lost his opportunity to, in his words, put "Philadelphia politics on trial." While preparing for that case an effort that involved sifting through some 25,000 audiotaped conversations and reams of documents Warren backed up his mentor, Dennis Cogan, on the defense team for Leonard "Pooh" Paulk, the stepfather of local hoops standout Dajuan Wagner. In federal court in Camden, Paulk was found guilty of participating in a massive crack-cocaine and heroin sales network, but the jury deadlocked on money laundering charges. With Paulk facing life in prison, Warren says he doesn't have any other big cases on the horizon but, always the litigator, says he'll be busy anyway. Referring to the Paulk verdict, he says, "there are real viable issues for an appeal." --Brian Hickey
The story: In late summer, School District CEO Paul Vallas issued a "Declaration of Education," an ambitious reform package for the city's public school system. Vallas outlined plans to restructure the system by eliminating all middle schools and push through a new initiative that would allow principals to handpick their teachers, rather than allowing teachers to select their school assignments based on seniority. He also wants to assign a police officer to every one of the district's 276 public schools. Police Commissioner Sylvester Johnson and Mayor Street did not support the plan.
What happened next: Vallas still plans to convert all schools to house grades K-8 or 9-12 by 2008; about 14 schools will be closed in the process, but none have been identified yet. Principal authority to handpick teachers is part of the new Philadelphia Federation of Teachers union contract. Teacher selection should begin at the end of this school year. As for uniformed officers in schools, Vallas has lost that battle. At a press conference announcing the new Safe Schools program earlier this month, he said that he and the mayor had "agreed to disagree" about the matter. The new program will assign a task force of 10 officers to investigate and respond to calls to the school system's safety hotline, (215) 299-SAFE. --Original story, Amy L. Webb; Update, Doron Taussig
The story: Since the city has become very concerned with luring tourists and residents to its metro area, City Paper offered officials a "crash course in making a good city great." In the wake of numerous campaigns by groups including the Greater Philadelphia Tourism and Marketing Corporation (GPTMC) and Innovation Philadelphia (IP), and with expenditures in this area expected to increase, we decided it was our duty to pipe up with our plan for taking Philadelphia one step beyond the status quo. We imagined marketing proposals designed to highlight the benefits and kinds of people we believe Philadelphia can only use more of, from brewers and immigrant entrepreneurs to pet owners and parents.
What happened next: The day the issue hit, Meryl Levitz, president and CEO of the GPTMC, called to praise the package's ideas and presentation. She also hinted that she'd share the issue with their board. A call to Levitz in early December revealed that it was no idle gesture.
"We distributed the City Paper and discussed it with [our executive staff] at our weekly breakfast meeting." According to Levitz, we were in good company, as our package and articles from publications including Business Week and Forbes were referenced as the GPTMC's evolving strategy was evaluated. Adds Jeff Guaracino, GPTMC's director of regional communications, the issue "did create some buzz" as he received calls from people in the industry discussing "everything from how creative the cover is to the ideas inside. It got people around town talking."
And marketing Philadelphia will continue to be a hot topic. New numbers reveal that total visitation to the region in 2003 was up 12 percent over 2002 versus a national average increase of 1 percent (according to a study by V.K. Shifflet). Visitor spending here was also up 19 percent in the same time period versus a national 2.6 percent increase (study by Global Insight). While we certainly can't take credit for the trend, marketing Philadelphia is becoming a hotter and hotter topic.
In early December, IP unveiled its Creative Economy Conference, a one-day event focused on strategies for luring young, creative workers to the region. The conference featured the results of a study of Philadelphia's attractiveness to 25- to 34-year-olds and a presentation from Temple alum Dennis Alter, chairman and CEO of Advanta a Spring House, Pa.-based issuer of small-business credit cards featuring comments from some of the company's employees who fit the demographic profile.
"I think the most interesting thing is that it wouldn't have happened five years ago," says Levitz. "People are talking about the need to attract young people."
Looming on the horizon is Philadelphia's ballyhooed citywide WiFi initiative which, if realized, would further boost the city's standing and appeal to the young, creative types Marketing 215 would like to attract. --Brian Howard
![]() BLOWN AWAY: "We did horribly at the polls," says an understated Chris Randolph. Photo By: Michael T. Regan |
The story: Chris Randolph overcame a Kafkaesque obstacle course to get his name on the ballot as an Independent in Pennsylvania's First Congressional District. He insisted that when it came to unseating Democratic incumbent Bob Brady, Republican Deborah Williams was the long shot.
What happened next: Randolph received 857 votes to Brady's 214,362, placing third well behind Williams (who was also a landslide loser). "We did horribly at the polls," Randolph offered by way of understatement. His opponents declined to debate him, and he says it didn't help to be left out of the South Philly Review voter guide. But the hardest pill to swallow was an unexpected one: Many of Randolph's volunteer staff abandoned him for the Kerry campaign. "They were effectively working for Brady," Randolph laments. By turning out Democrats to punch the straight-ticket button, his supporters hit him with an Anybody-But-Bush sucker punch, bolstering the very sort of machine politics Randolph so passionately loathes. Despite the outcome, he's glad he ran. Negotiating some of the toughest ballot access laws in the nation, he learned lessons he'd like to use to help outsiders run in the future. Will he pursue office again? It's too soon to say, but he'll soon meet with Green Party officials. If they ask him to run under their banner in 2006, he says he'll do it. --Trey Popp
The story: When the U.S. Army's Newport, Ind., chemical weapons facility wanted to find a place to distribute 1,269 neutralized tons of VX nerve agent wastewater, they targeted Dupont Chamber Works plant in Deepwater, N.J. U.S. Rep. Rob Andrews (D-NJ) was mad as hell at the prospect of the Army dumping weapons of mass destruction into the Delaware River. Thanks to pressure from Andrews and other local legislators, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the Environmental Protection Agency halted the move until further testing could be done.
What happened next: In mid-November, Dupont introduced new technology to sweeten the deal for treatment of 900 truckloads of VX wastewater. "The new cleansing process will remove all harmful phosphonates from the VX hydrolysate before it's distributed into the Delaware River. The initial results are promising and the company has already applied for patents on the technology," said Dupont spokesman Anthony Farina. He cautioned that Dupont will still only be involved in the proposed plan if it can be accomplished safely without any adverse impact on the environment. Andrews et al, though, want that process investigated before anything else happens. "Nothing has swayed me from my original opinion. I still think this idea puts people at risk along the Delaware River," says Andrews, noting that the Academy of Natural Sciences rated the current proposed method of neutralization last as a treatable resource for the deadly liquid. The Army has still has not awarded a contract for the disposal work for the deadly agent. "The states are continuing to investigate the technology that Dupont has introduced, so we're still waiting," says Army spokesman Jeff Lindblad. --Dan Keashen
The story: The home of abolitionist and Underground Railroad figure Robert Purvis, located at 1601 Mt. Vernon St., had fallen into disrepair. The current owner, Miguel Santiago, got permission from the Historical Commission to transform the historic property into a condominium.
What happened next: While Purvis' home is a goner, his burial site at the Fair Hill Burial Ground a one-time drug haven at Ninth and Cambria that's been restored as a historical visitors site is currently undergoing an intensive restoration, says Purvis biographer Margaret Hope Bacon. The Fair Hill Burial Ground Corp. has commissioned a new granite headstone to mark Purvis' grave and expect to have it ready for a Black History Month ceremony in February. --Cory Frolik
The story: Last time we spoke to The Dead Milkmen, Philly's legendary '80s punk satirists were planning and practicing for their final shows. They reunited to pay tribute to bassist Dave Schulthise (aka Dave Blood), who committed suicide in April.
What happened next: Both sold-out nights at the Trocadero featured rowdy, sincere performances from the Milkmen and enthusiastic, supportive audiences composed as much of young punks as oldheads. Was Rodney Linderman (aka fiery frontman Rodney Anonymous) surprised to see all those young kids moshing and shouting the lyrics to "Tiny Town" and "Takin' Retards To The Zoo?"
"I was more surprised that I knew all of the words," he jokes. "It's easy for young people to memorize things, but for an old fart like me, re-learning all of those words was like memorizing The Iliad."
All told, the two shows raised some $40,000, half of which went to the Studenica Monastery, an institution beloved by Schulthise. (For more information, see http://www.suc.org/culture/history/Serb_History/Monasteries/Studenica/.) The remaining was divided among Mpower: Musicians for Mental Health, Mental Health Association of Southeastern Pennsylvania and Folcroft Survivors of Suicide, Inc.
So, the shows were a financial success, but was it a cathartic experience?
"Oddly, it was," says Linderman. "I didn't think that it would be mainly because I'm a cynical bastard but even I can be wrong on rare occasions. Sunday night's show was enveloped in an air of sadness, not just for us, but for the audience as well. There were a lot of people in that crowd who were thinking about loved ones that they'd lost. Once we managed to exorcise that collective sadness, it was like a whole new world opened before our eyes." --Patrick Rapa
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