Matt Potter 4 p.m., Sept. 21
Stories for September 1984
Thursday, September 27
Two hours before the fights begin, the boxing ring is a clean canvas framed by loose ropes and illuminated from above by stars of blue neon. Surrounding the ring, the wooden floor at the Palisades ...
Constant war zone, then good-byes to San Diego's Metropolitan Correctional Center
People inside here make believe they are betting on all things. There are pools. Pools on who will get beat up next, turn gay, escape, go to bed first, make the longest phone call, have the shortest visit,
Thursday, September 20
Runners stand at every base. The pitcher glances at them one by one from his vantage point on the mound, as if he is hoping they will evaporate, will reveal themselves to be characters in ...
A six-month inmate writes from the Metropolitan Correctional Center, downtown San Diego
The author was sentenced to six months in prison on federal drug charges involving cocaine. While incarcerated at downtown's Metropolitan Correctional Center, he wrote to his friends. These are his letters. Boys, I've finally found ...
Thursday, September 13
Thursday, September 6
“In the wild,” Roocroft says, “an elephant will be moving at least eighteen hours each day. The feet, then, will take care of themselves.” But in a zoo, elephants develop overgrown toenails and overthickened foot pads.