What we know:
—The FAA says American Airlines Flight 383 blew a tire while taking off from Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport.
—Video posted on Twitter shows thick black smoke emerging from the aircraft. All passengers are reportedly safe.
—We’re live-blogging the news below. All updates are in Eastern Daylight Time (GMT -4).
A spokesman for American Airlines says seven passengers and one flight attendant were injured after their plane caught fire at O’Hare International Airport.
They were taken to the hospital. Their condition is unknown.
The rest of the passengers were given a new flight to Miami.
There apparently was a fire drill earlier Friday, which led to confusion initially about what was happening at O’Hare.
@juicereddi Our fire training center is active today. No need for alarm.
— O'Hare Intl. Airport (@fly2ohare) October 28, 2016
There’s now video of the plane:
Video of incident Involving an American Airlines flight at Chicago O'Hare ⚠ pic.twitter.com/k51a0kJ9Jc
— Flight Alerts ⚠ (@FlightAlerts777) October 28, 2016
The Federal Aviation Administration has more information on what happened:
✈ Traffic Alert: Runway Closed @fly2ohare (ORD) due to disabled aircraft - Expect Delays - check w/your airline for updated flight status.
— The FAA (@FAANews) October 28, 2016
FAA Statement: @AmericanAir Flight 383, B767, ORD>MIA, blew a tire at 2:35PM CT & aborted take off. Passengers deplaned. FAA Investigating.
— The FAA (@FAANews) October 28, 2016
@jmmccarthy2002 @AmericanAir There is a ground stop in effect for flights arriving into ORD - Disabled aircraft located on RWY 28R.
— The FAA (@FAANews) October 28, 2016
But earlier Friday authorities had planned a drill at the airport.
Don't be alarmed! The Chicago Fire Department at O'Hare is doing practice fires today on the airfield fire pit! @fly2ohare @Chicago_Scanner pic.twitter.com/Qfgr5RyMOI
— ORD Airport Insider (@ORDInsider) October 28, 2016
The fire department said an aircraft was down at O’Hare, the world’s busiest airport.
EMERGENCY AIRCRAFT DOWN AT OHARE 2 11 RESPONSE details to follow
— Chicago Fire Media (@CFDMedia) October 28, 2016
Amid a convulsive week in American politics, at one of the darkest rallies Donald Trump has ever held, his base showed up in force to tell the president he’s done nothing wrong.
GREENVILLE, N.C.—Before the rally began, I wanted to know why they’d come.
In the heavy, humid hours, I walked up and down the line winding through a parking lot at East Carolina University to interview some two dozen people who wanted to see the president. Many didn’t make it inside. About 90 minutes before Donald Trump took the stage, police announced that the 8,000-person basketball arena was full and those still waiting would have to watch on an oversize TV monitor set up outside. Rather than head home, they stuck around for a tailgate party of sorts.
Some cracked open beers and lit cigars, sitting on folding chairs in front of the TV. People walked by in shirts that read In Trump We Trust and Fuck Off, We’re Full. Earlier, in the 100-degree heat, a four-member family band called the Terry Train entertained the crowd with a song mocking CNN. Lying Wolf Blitzer and Lying John King. Don Lemon lies about everything … Erin Burnett, can you hear us yet? We’ll give you a story you can never forget. It built to this refrain: CNN sucks!
Despite changing norms, it’s still exceedingly rare for women to propose in heterosexual couples.
As public figures have often been known to do in the age of social media, Elizabeth Warren commemorated her wedding anniversary this past weekend by expressing her appreciation for her partner on Twitter. Warren shared a story that also appears in her 2014 memoir A Fighting Chance, about the day she realized she’d be with Bruce Mann, now her husband of 39 years, for the rest of their lives. “One day at the grocery store soon after we first met, I saw Bruce gazing at the strawberry display. I said, ‘We can get some if you want!’ He smiled, picked up a carton, and told me he was thinking about his family. ‘We didn’t eat things like fresh strawberries,’ he explained,” Warren’s tweet read. “It made me think about my family, too, how my mother would work her grocery list to squeeze out every last nickel. In that moment, I knew Bruce and I would be bound to each other forever.”
No one has done more to dispel the myth of social mobility than Raj Chetty. But he has a plan to make equality of opportunity a reality.
Raj Chetty got his biggest break before his life began. His mother, Anbu, grew up in Tamil Nadu, a tropical state at the southern tip of the Indian subcontinent. Anbu showed the greatest academic potential of her five siblings, but her future was constrained by custom. Although Anbu’s father encouraged her scholarly inclinations, there were no colleges in the area, and sending his daughter away for an education would have been unseemly.
But as Anbu approached the end of high school, a minor miracle redirected her life. A local tycoon, himself the father of a bright daughter, decided to open a women’s college, housed in his elegant residence. Anbu was admitted to the inaugural class of 30 young women, learning English in the spacious courtyard under a thatched roof and traveling in the early mornings by bus to a nearby college to run chemistry experiments or dissect frogs’ hearts before the men arrived.
If multiracial democracy cannot be defended in America, it will not be defended elsewhere.
The conservative intelligentsia flocked to the Ritz-Carlton in Washington, D.C., this week for the National Conservatism Conference, an opportunity for people who may never have punched a time clock to declare their eternal enmity toward elites and to attempt to offer contemporary conservative nationalism the intellectual framework that has so far proved elusive.
Yoram Hazony, the Israeli scholar who organized the conference, explicitly rejected white nationalism, barring several well-known adherents from attending, my colleague Emma Green reported. But despite Hazony’s efforts, the insistence that “nationalism” is, at its core, about defending borders, eschewing military interventions, and promoting a shared American identity did not prevent attendees from explicitly declaring that American laws should favor white immigrants.
Support for Trump comes at a high cost for Christian witness.
Last week, Ralph Reed, the Faith and Freedom Coalition’s founder and chairman, told the group, “There has never been anyone who has defended us and who has fought for us, who we have loved more than Donald J. Trump. No one!”
Reed is partially right; for many evangelical Christians, there is no political figure whom they have loved more than Donald Trump.
I recently exchanged emails with a pro-Trump figure who attended the president’s reelection rally in Orlando, Florida, on June 18. (He spoke to me on the condition of anonymity, so as to avoid personal or professional repercussions.) He had interviewed scores of people, many of them evangelical Christians. “I have never witnessed the kind of excitement and enthusiasm for a political figure in my life,” he told me. “I honestly couldn’t believe the unwavering support they have. And to a person, it was all about ‘the fight.’ There is a very strong sense (I believe justified, you disagree) that he has been wronged. Wronged by Mueller, wronged by the media, wronged by the anti-Trump forces. A passionate belief that he never gets credit for anything.”
The classic rom-com invented the “high-maintenance” woman. Thirty years later, its reductive diagnosis lives on.
There’s a scene midway through When Harry Met Sally that finds the rom-com’s title couple, one evening, in bed—separate beds, each in their respective apartments, shown on a split screen. The will-they-or-won’t-they best friends, currently in the won’t-they stage of things, are talking on the phone as they watch Casablanca on TV. “Ingrid Bergman,” Harry muses. “Now she’s low-maintenance.”
“Low-maintenance?” Sally asks.
“There are two kinds of women,” Harry explains, anticipating her question: “high-maintenance and low-maintenance.”
“And Ingrid Bergman is low-maintenance?”
“An L-M, definitely,” Harry replies.
“Which one am I?”
Harry has anticipated this question, too—of course Sally would wonder. “You’re the worst kind,” he says, coolly. “You’re high-maintenance, but you think you’re low-maintenance.”
The American flag is bleached white. But some of the boot prints could remain undisturbed for tens of thousands of years.
About 4.5 billion years ago, according to the most popular theory of the moon’s formation, a mysterious rocky world the size of Mars slammed into Earth. From the fiery impact, shards swirled and fused into a new, airless world, itself bombarded with rocky objects. In the absence of the smoothing touch of weather and tectonic activity, every dent remained. And then, one day, among craters both microscopic and miles-wide, two guys came along and stepped on the surface, carving new hollows with their boots.
Buzz Aldrin, seeing the moon from the surface for the first time, described it as “magnificent desolation.”
It was not so desolate when they departed. The Apollo 11 astronauts discarded gadgets, tools, and the clothesline contraption that moved boxes of lunar samples, one by one, from the surface into the module. They left behind commemorative objects—that resplendent American flag, mission patches and medals honoring fallen astronauts and cosmonauts, a coin-size silicon disk bearing goodwill messages from the world leaders of planet Earth. And they dumped things that weren’t really advertised to the public, for understandable reasons, such as defecation-collection devices. (Some scientists, curious to examine how gut microbes fare in low gravity, even proposed going back for these.)
America’s urban rebirth is missing something key—actual births.
A few years ago, I lived in a walkup apartment in the East Village of New York. Every so often descending the stairway, I would catch a glimpse of a particular family with young children in its Sisyphean attempts to reach the fourth floor. The mom would fold the stroller to the size of a boogie board, then drag it behind her with her right hand, while cradling the younger and typically crying child in the crook of her left arm. Meanwhile, she would shout hygiene instructions in the direction of the older child, who would slap both hands against every other grimy step to use her little arms as leverage, like an adult negotiating the boulder steps of Machu Picchu. It looked like hell—or, as I once suggested to a roommate, a carefully staged public service announcement against family formation.
What new research reveals about sexual predators, and why police fail to catch them
Robert Spada walked into the decrepit warehouse in Detroit and surveyed the chaos: Thousands of cardboard boxes and large plastic bags were piled haphazardly throughout the cavernous space. The air inside was hot and musty. Spada, an assistant prosecutor, saw that some of the windows were open, others broken, exposing the room to the summer heat. Above the boxes, birds glided in slow, swooping circles.
It was August 17, 2009, and this brick fortress of a building housed evidence that had been collected by the Detroit Police Department. Spada’s visit had been prompted by a question: Why were police sometimes unable to locate crucial evidence? The answer lay in the disarray before him.
50 photos of the historic Apollo 11 mission on the 50th anniversary of that “giant leap”.
On July 20, 1969, astronaut Neil Armstrong became the first human being to walk on another world, famously marking the moment with the phrase: “That’s one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind.” After months of preparation, preceded by years of development and testing, the crew of NASA’s Apollo 11 lifted off from Florida on July 16, arriving at the moon on July 19. While Command Module Pilot Michael Collins remained in lunar orbit, Armstrong and Lunar Module Pilot Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin descended to the surface and spent two and a half hours on the moon, setting up experiments, taking photos, and gathering samples. After their safe return home, the crew were celebrated by politicians and the public as they embarked on a 45-day goodwill tour, visiting a total of 27 cities in 24 countries. Below, 50 photos of the historic Apollo 11 mission, on the 50th anniversary of that giant leap. Editor’s Note: This article is part of a series reflecting on Apollo 11, 50 years later.
A man is tormented by a low-frequency humming sound emanating from his house, which he believes is caused by a nearby gas pipeline.
NASA employees and civilians remember the 1969 lunar landing.
In a series of emotionally charged group therapy sessions, convicted batterers reflect on the beliefs and attitudes that underlie their behavior.
