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Large crack reportedly forms in window of San Francisco's sinking Millennium Tower

 Officials with the City and County of San Francisco Department of Building Inspection are requiring Millennium Tower building engineers to evaluate the extent of repairs needed to fix the crack and investigate the condition of the glass panel and adjacent curtain wall system by Friday, Sept. 7, 2018. less Officials with the City and County of San Francisco Department of Building Inspection are requiring Millennium Tower building engineers to evaluate the extent of repairs needed to fix the crack and investigate ... more Photo: Courtesy Of City And County Of San Francisco Department Of Building Inspection Photo: Courtesy Of City And County Of San Francisco Department Of Building Inspection Image 1 of / 13 Caption Close Large crack reportedly forms in window of San Francisco's sinking Millennium Tower 1 / 13 Back to Gallery

 A new defect in San Francisco's sinking and tilting Millennium Tower has appeared.

 A large crack reportedly formed in a window on the 36th Floor of the building on Sunday, according to a resident.

 Department of Building Inspection spokesperson Bill Strawn says a correction notice was issued and building engineers have 72 hours to report back on what happened.

 "Our building inspector to the site...was not able to gain access to the unit and thus unable to see the alleged crack," Strawn said in an email. "The visit by the inspector was in response to a complaint."

 ALSO: New '60 Minutes' shows shocking footage of the cracks in the Millennium Tower basement

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 NBC Bay Area reports Millennium Tower residents heard a "creaking sound and then a large pop" before the crack appeared at 2:30 a.m. Sunday.

 Supervisor Aaron Peskin confirms there's a crack in a window and says, "Building management sent an email to all the owners saying they thought this crack [was related to] the ongoing problems with the building—i.e., the settling, sinking of the building."

 Peskin says the window system that's part of something called the "curtain wall" is designed to sustain hurricane force winds.

 "If a window failed entirely it would rain shards of glass hundreds of feet below down onto one of the busiest, most congested parts of the city. The city better take this seriously," Peskin continued

 Peskin says he asked the Building Inspection Department to consider closing the sidewalks below the cracked window.

 MORE, Millennium Tower keeps on sinking, but there may be a fix

 Rising 645 feet, the Millennium Tower at 301 Mission St. in the South of Market district became the tallest residential building in the city when it opened in 2009.

 Residents learned in 2016 that the 58-story building was sinking, and a flurry of lawsuits from owners of condos followed, including one from the homeowners association seeking $200 million.

 Residents paid anywhere from $1.6 million to $10 million for their units.

 The building has sunk some 17 inches since construction began in 2005 and its tilting about 14 inches.

 SFGATE reached out to Millennium Tower management and didn't hear back before publishing the story.

 This story was updated on Sept. 6, 2018, at 8:40 a.m. ||||| A large crack formed in a window at the sinking and tilting Millennium Tower over the Labor Day weekend, prompting officials there to block off part of the sidewalk on Mission Street as a precaution, NBC Bay Area’s Investigative Unit has learned. Investigative Reporter Jaxon Van Derbeken reports.

 A large crack formed in a window at the sinking and tilting Millennium Tower over the Labor Day weekend, prompting officials there to block off part of the sidewalk on Mission Street as a precaution, NBC Bay Area’s Investigative Unit has learned.

 More Concerns for Millennium Tower Due to Cracked Window

 We're getting our first look at the cracked window in San Francisco's sinking and tilting Millennium Tower that has a lot of residents worried. They are worried because it raises more concerns about stability of the high-rise that's now leaning 18 inches. When Investigative Reporter Jaxon Van Derbeken first broke this story on Tuesday, residents inside the tower did not want to talk. On Wednesday, several residents talked with him to discuss their concerns. (Published Wednesday, Sept. 5, 2018)

 City inspectors issued a notice of violation on Tuesday, giving the Millennium management 72 hours to report back on the extent of the problem and the soundness of the building’s façade in light of the failure.

 Residents started hearing creaking sounds followed by a loud popping noise at 2:30 a.m. Saturday. Soon afterward, one owner found the crack in his window in a 36th floor unit in the north western corner of the 58-story high-rise. The tower is currently tilting some 18 inches when measured at the top.

 A look at the crack on a window in a 36th floor unit of San Francisco's Millennium Tower.

 San Francisco City Supervisor Aaron Peskin notes the failed window was supposed to withstand hurricane force winds.

 “When you have a window at the 36th floor that cracks in the middle of the night that is a big wake up call,” says Peskin, who has held a series of hearings into why the tower has been sinking so dramatically.

 Video Millennium Tower Cited for Fire Safety Danger

 In a bulletin about the latest problem sent to owners on Labor Day and obtained by NBC Bay Area, building manager Michael Scofield assured them a team of experts would soon assess what he described as “a large piece of glass that cracked.”

 Scofield acknowledged it’s “possible that this incident is related to other issues in the building.”

 A string of problems may have been triggered by differential settlement of the structure -- everything from cracks in the basement walls to strange odors permeating some units.

 The issue of who is to blame has become mired in a legal morass. As the building continues to sink and tilt, NBC Bay Area has detailed concerns by experts about the possibility the façade of the building, known as the curtain wall, may be separating from the interior structure.

 That could pose a risk, they say, that a fire could spread through gaps between floors. The failure of the 36th floor window could be evidence of strain on the steel lattice that forms the façade.

 For now, Millennium manager Scofield told residents the barrier will remain out front along Mission Street until repairs are made.

 “This is a public safety hazard,” Peskin says of the window failure, adding that the city Department of Building Inspection must act immediately to assure the safety of thousands of people who walk by the building every day.

 “The real question is do we need to limit pedestrian access on the sidewalks beneath the Millennium?” he says. “I want our Department of Building Inspection to make that decision and pronto.”

 Investigative Test Drilling Launched at the Sinking Millennium Tower

 Department of Building Inspection spokesman William Strawn said in a statement late Tuesday that per the building engineer’s comments to the city inspector, “It does not appear to present any sidewalk safety issue at this time. We will be following up.” |||||

– More bad news for San Francisco's Millennium Tower. This time, it's a crack in a window on the 36th floor of the 58-story building, SFGate reports. It happened Saturday around 2:30am when residents heard "creaking noises" and a "loud pop," per NBC Bay Area. Later, a resident found a crack in his window. San Francisco Supervisor Aaron Peskin tells SFGate that if the window, which is designed to withstand hurricane-force winds, were to fail completely "it would rain shards of glass hundreds of feet below onto one of the busiest, most congested parts of the city." Opened in 2009, the 645-foot-tall Millennium Tower has reportedly sunk some 17 inches and is tilting (by 14 inches per SFGate, by 18 inches per NBC). In an email to residents, per Peskin, building management confirmed the window crack and said it was related to "ongoing problems with the building—i.e., the settling, sinking of the building." Other issues, according to NBC, include cracks in the basement wall and "strange odors" in some units. Units in the building sold for between $1.6 million and $10 million, per SFGate.


– George Washington’s name is synonymous with America—and of the people who bear his surname today, 90% of them are African-American, according to the 2000 census. How did “Washington” become, as Jesse Washington, writing for the AP calls it, the “blackest name" in America? It could be that blacks chose the name to honor George himself, an odd prospect when you consider that the first US president, while opposed to slavery on paper, owned 124 slaves and worked them hard. But perhaps not so odd when you realize that Washington also freed all 124 of those slaves upon his and his wife’s deaths; of the eight American presidents who owned slaves while in office, he was the only one to do so. Some of his former slaves may have chosen to take his surname as a mark of their community; others may have wanted to maintain a link to a powerful family after being freed. Or the choice could have been random: Booker T. Washington, for example, has never said why he chose his last name 60 years or so after George Washington’s death. Some may even have picked the name to signal their devotion to their new country: "There was a lot more consciousness and pride in American history among African-Americans and enslaved African-Americans than a lot of people give them credit for,” says one professor and author. But one black genealogy expert, who says 82% to 94% of Washingtons listed in the 1880 to 1930 censuses were black, disagrees. "As far as I'm concerned it's a coincidence." Click here for more from the article.

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george washington Washington the ‘Blackest’ Name in America

 On the eve of George Washington's birthday, Associated Press writer Jesse Washington investigates why the founding father's surname now belongs predominantly to African-Americans. The 2000 U.S. Census counted 163,036 people with the last name Washington, 90 percent of whom were black — a far higher percentage than any other name. Writes Washington:

 The story of how Washington became the "blackest name" begins with slavery and takes a sharp turn after the Civil War, when all blacks were allowed the dignity of a surname.

 By choosing the name, he says, Reconstruction-era blacks might have been showing pride in the nation's history, as George Washington, who died in 1799, was still hugely popular at the time. Alternately, the name could have been a way to maintain ties to plantation owners who continued to be powerful regional figures after the Civil War. Then again, "It's a myth," writes Washington, "that most enslaved blacks bore the last name of their owner."

 For instance, "only a handful" of George Washington's slaves had his name. According to Mary Thompson, a historian at Washington's Mount Vernon plantation, the president recorded most as having only a first name — and despite the abolitionist writings he left behind, he owned hundreds of slaves. "Washington was leading this schizoid life," says biographer Ron Chernow. "In theory and on paper he was opposed to slavery, but he was still zealously tracking and seeking to recover his slaves who escaped." (Martha Washington's maid, Oney Judge, ran away while the family was living in Philadelphia. Washington abused his presidential powers by asking the Treasury Department to kidnap Judge from her new life in New Hampshire, says Chernow, but the plot failed.)

 In the end, any assumption that the name is tied to George may be a faulty one. "There is no direct evidence," says Tony Burroughs, an expert on black genealogy. "As far as I'm concerned it's a coincidence."

 But the coincidence is a marked one. According to Jesse Washington, the name is so heavily African-American that many present-day Washingtons are "surprised to learn" that white Washingtons exist, having never met one. In 2000, only 5 percent (8,813) of Washingtons in the U.S. were white. (The surname study was not repeated in the 2010 Census.) By comparison, Williams was the sixteenth "blackest" name, at 46 percent black, even though the name is much more popular, and there were 716,704 black Williamses overall.

 Washington: The 'Blackest Name' In America [AP via HuffPo] ||||| George Washington's name is inseparable from America, and not only from the nation's history. It identifies countless streets, buildings, mountains, bridges, monuments, cities _ and people.

 In this Thursday, Feb. 17, 2011 picture, Ida and Larry Washington sit together in their living room in Weybridge, Vt. holding a clock with their surname printed on it. Larry Washington, who traces his... (Associated Press)

 In this Thursday, Feb. 17, 2011 picture, Ida and Larry Washington sit together in their living room in Weybridge, Vt. Larry Washington, who traces his family tree back to England in the 1700s, says he... (Associated Press)

 In this Thursday, Feb. 17, 2011 picture, Larry Washington stands next to silhouettes of George and Martha Washington in his home in Weybridge, Vt. Larry Washington, who traces his family tree back to... (Associated Press)

 In this Friday, Feb. 18, 2011 picture, Shannon Washington poses for a portrait in the Brooklyn borough of New York. George Washington's name is inseparable from America, and not only from the nation's... (Associated Press)

 In this Thursday, Feb. 17, 2011 picture, Ida and Larry Washington sit together in their living room in Weybridge, Vt. Larry Washington, who traces his family tree back to England in the 1700s, says he... (Associated Press)

 In this Friday, Feb. 18, 2011 picture, Shannon Washington poses for a portrait in the Brooklyn borough of New York. George Washington's name is inseparable from America, and not only from the nation's... (Associated Press)

 FILE - This undated picture shows Gilbert Stuart's portrait of George Washington. Washington inherited land and 10 human beings from his father, and gained more of both as he grew older. But over the... (Associated Press)

 Chart shows last names most likely to be held by African Americans (Associated Press)

 In this Friday, Feb. 18, 2011 picture, Shannon Washington poses for a portrait in the Brooklyn borough of New York. George Washington's name is inseparable from America, and not only from the nation's... (Associated Press)

 In a puzzling twist, most of these people are black. The 2000 U.S. Census counted 163,036 people with the surname Washington. Ninety percent of them were African-American, a far higher black percentage than for any other common name.

 The story of how Washington became the "blackest name" begins with slavery and takes a sharp turn after the Civil War, when all blacks were allowed the dignity of a surname.

 Even before Emancipation, many enslaved black people chose their own surnames to establish their identities. Afterward, some historians theorize, large numbers of blacks chose the name Washington in the process of asserting their freedom.

 Today there are black Washingtons, like this writer, who are often identified as African-American by people they have never met. There are white Washingtons who are sometimes misidentified and have felt discrimination. There are Washingtons of both races who view the name as a special _ if complicated _ gift.

 And there remains the presence of George, born 279 years ago on Feb. 22, whose complex relationship with slavery echoes in the blackness of his name today.

 ___

 George Washington's great-grandfather, John, arrived in Virginia from England in 1656. John married the daughter of a wealthy man and eventually owned more than 5,000 acres, according to the new biography "Washington: A Life," by Ron Chernow.

 Along with land, George inherited 10 human beings from his father. He gained more through his marriage to a wealthy widow, and purchased still more enslaved blacks to work the lands he aggressively amassed. But over the decades, as he recognized slavery's contradiction with the freedoms of the new nation, Washington grew opposed to human bondage.

 Yet "slaves were the basis of his fortune," and he would not part with them, Chernow said in an interview.

 Washington was not a harsh slaveowner by the standards of the time. He provided good food and medical care. He recognized marriages and refused to sell off individual family members. Later in life he resolved not to purchase any more black people.

 But he also worked his slaves quite hard, and under difficult conditions. As president, he shuttled them between his Philadelphia residence and Virginia estate to evade a law that freed any slave residing in Pennsylvania for six months.

 While in Philadelphia, Oney Judge, Martha Washington's maid, moved about the city and met many free blacks. Upon learning Martha was planning one day to give her to an ill-tempered granddaughter, Judge disappeared.

 According to Chernow's book, Washington abused his presidential powers and asked the Treasury Department to kidnap Judge from her new life in New Hampshire. The plot was unsuccessful.

 "Washington was leading this schizoid life," Chernow said in the interview. "In theory and on paper he was opposed to slavery, but he was still zealously tracking and seeking to recover his slaves who escaped."

 In his final years on his Mount Vernon plantation, Washington said that "nothing but the rooting out of slavery can perpetuate the existence of our union."

 This led to extraordinary instructions in his will that all 124 of his slaves should be freed after the death of his wife. The only exception was the slave who was at his side for the entire Revolutionary War, who was freed immediately. Washington also ordered that the younger black people be educated or taught a trade, and he provided a fund to care for the sick or aged.

 "This is a man who travels an immense distance," Chernow said.

 In contrast with other Founding Fathers, Chernow said, Washington's will indicates "that he did have a vision of a future biracial society."

 Twelve American presidents were slaveowners. Of the eight presidents who owned slaves while in office, Washington is the only one who set all of them free.

 ___

 It's a myth that most enslaved blacks bore the last name of their owner. Only a handful of George Washington's hundreds of slaves did, for example, and he recorded most as having just a first name, says Mary Thompson, the historian at Mount Vernon.

 Still, historian Henry Wiencek says many enslaved blacks had surnames that went unrecorded or were kept secret. Some chose names as a mark of community identity, he says, and that community could be the plantation of a current or recent owner.

 "Keep in mind that after the Civil War, many of the big planters continued to be extremely powerful figures in their regions, so there was an advantage for a freed person to keep a link to a leading white family," says Wiencek, author of "An Imperfect God: George Washington, His Slaves, and the Creation of America."

 Sometimes blacks used the surname of the owner of their oldest known ancestor as a way to maintain their identity. Melvin Patrick Ely, a College of William and Mary professor who studies the history of blacks in the South, says some West African cultures placed high value on ancestral villages, and the American equivalent was the plantation where one's ancestors had toiled.

 Last names also could have been plucked out of thin air. Booker T. Washington, one of the most famous blacks of the post-slavery period, apparently had two of those.

 He was a boy when Emancipation freed him from a Virginia plantation. After enrolling in school, he noticed other children had last names, while the only thing he had ever been called was Booker.

 "So, when the teacher asked me what my full name was, I calmly told him, 'Booker Washington,'" he wrote in his autobiography, "Up from Slavery." Later in life, he found out that his mother had named him "Booker Taliaferro" at birth, so he added a middle name.

 He gives no indication why the name Washington popped into his head. But George Washington, dead for only 60-odd years, had immense fame and respect at the time. His will had been widely published in pamphlet form, and it was well known that he had freed his slaves, Thompson says.

 Did enslaved people feel inspired by Washington and take his name in tribute, or were they seeking some benefits from the association? Did newly freed people take the name as a mark of devotion to their country?

 "We just don't know," Weincek says.

 But the connection is too strong for some to ignore.

 "There was a lot more consciousness and pride in American history among African-Americans and enslaved African-Americans than a lot of people give them credit for. They had a very strong sense of politics and history," says Adam Goodheart, a professor at Washington College and author of the forthcoming "1861: Civil War Awakening."

 "They were thinking about how they could be Americans," Goodheart says. "That they would embrace the name of this person who was an imperfect hero shows there was a certain understanding of this country as an imperfect place, an imperfect experiment, and a willingness to embrace that tradition of liberty with all its contradictions."

 Many black people took new names after the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, and the black power movement, says Ira Berlin, a University of Maryland history professor who has written books on the history of African-Americans.

 "Names are this central way we think about ourselves," Berlin says. "Whenever we have these kinds of emancipatory moments, suddenly people can reinvent themselves, rethink themselves new, distinguish themselves from a past where they were denigrated and abused. New names are one of the ways they do it."

 But for black people who chose the name Washington, it's rarely certain precisely why.

 "It's an assumption that the surname is tied to George," says Tony Burroughs, an expert on black genealogy, who says 82 to 94 percent of all Washingtons listed in the 1880 to 1930 censuses were black.

 "There is no direct evidence," he says. "As far as I'm concerned it's a coincidence."

 ___

 Coincidence or not, today the numbers are equally stark. Washington was listed 138th when the Census Bureau published a list of the 1,000 most common American surnames from the 2000 survey, along with ethnic data. The project was not repeated in 2010.

 Ninety percent of those Washingtons, numbering 146,520, were black. Only five percent, or 8,813, were white. Three percent were two or more races, 1 percent were Hispanic, and 1 percent were Asian or Pacific Islander.

 Jefferson was the second-blackest name, at 75 percent African-American. There were only 16,070 Lincolns, and that number was only 14 percent black.

 Jackson was 53 percent black. Williams was the 16th-blackest name, at 46 percent. But there were 1,534,042 total Williamses, including 716,704 black ones _ so there were more blacks named Williams than anything else.

 (The name Black was 68 percent white, meaning there were far more white Blacks than black Blacks. The name White, meanwhile, was 19 percent black.)

 Many present-day Washingtons are surprised to learn their name is not 100 percent black.

 "Growing up, I just knew that only black people had my last name," says Shannon Washington of New York City. Like many others, she has never met a white Washington.

 She has no negative feelings about her name: "It's a reflection of how far we've come more than anything. I most likely come from a family of slaves who were given or chose this name."

 As the creator of advertisements, events and http://www.parlourmagazine.com, she works with many Europeans, who often ask how she got her name. She plans on keeping it when she gets married, and likens her attachment to that of some black people for racist memorabilia like mammy dolls and Jim Crow signs.

 "I don't exactly love it," she says of her name, "But I have to respect it."

 Marcus Washington never thought much about his name as one of the few black people working in the overwhelmingly white William Morris talent agency. That changed after he filed a $25 million lawsuit in December accusing William Morris of racial discrimination.

 "I'm sure that for some people there, my name triggered the thought that I was African-American, and automatically triggered biases that resulted in me not being given a fair shot," he says.

 One 2004 study conducted by researchers at the University of Chicago Graduate School of Business found that job applicants with names that sound white receive 50 percent more callbacks than applicants with "black" names.

 The study responded to real employment ads with more than 5,000 fictitious resumes. Half the resumes were assigned names like Emily Walsh; the other half got names like Lakisha Washington. After calculating for the difference in resume quality, the study concluded that "a white name yields as many more callbacks as an additional eight years of experience on a resume."

 But what about those 8,813 white Washingtons? What is their experience?

 For the family of 85-year-old Larry Washington, who traces his family tree back to England in the 1700s, the experience has changed over the years. (He says he is not related to George, who had no children.)

 When he moved to New Jersey in 1962 to teach at a college there, Larry Washington's family tried to scout housing over the phone, but nothing was ever available. "When we showed up, there were plenty of houses," he recalls. After that, he taught his six children to always apply in person.

 Over the years, his name made him sensitive to racism: "We just simply recognized these things, and had full sympathy with the people who were really black and getting the real treatment."

 His son Paul, who in the 1970s worked for a temporary agency in Long Island, NY, says people in the offices where he was assigned always betrayed their relief when he turned out to be white. He experienced housing discrimination into the '80s, but says that no longer happens.

 He is now a geology professor who has lived in ten states from Louisiana to Pennsylvania. Sometimes he wonders if his name helps him get interviews at colleges looking to recruit a rare black geologist, and if it hurts him when the college discovers that he is white.

 Paul's children have had much different experiences _ like his 25-year-old daughter, an English professor who teaches foreign students, whose new pupils are always amazed to meet someone with "the ultimate American name."

 When Paul's brother Larry Jr. was recently traveling through customs in Japan, the inspector looked at his passport and said, "Oh, Mr. Washington!"

 "His politeness and the number of times he bowed clearly indicated that he thought I was the member of a very important family," Larry Jr. recalls.

 His sister Ida, a veterinarian who lives in Seattle, says she has never experienced discrimination due to her name as an adult. She is married, but uses Washington as her professional name.

 "It's very distinctive. I use it with a certain amount of pride," she says.

 Back in high school, she became fascinated with black history. "I think my name has made me much more aware of what African-American folks struggle with. I feel in tune with them."

 Perhaps her sentiments bring the name full circle _ from blacks making a connection to the greatest white Washington to a white person choosing a name associated with blackness.

 "I find it touching that freed blacks wanted to identify with the American tradition and the American dream," says Chernow, the biographer. "It makes a powerful statement."

 "I have to think," he says, "that George Washington would be very pleased that so many black people have adopted his name."

 ___

 Jesse Washington covers race and ethnicity for The Associated Press. He is reachable at jwashington(at)ap.org or http://www.twitter.com/jessewashington.

 ___

 On the Web:

 Census surname study: http://www.census.gov/genealogy/www/data/2000surnames/index.html |||||


Midday Sunday at Audubon Zoo, parked cars spilled from the asphalt parking lots into the surrounding grass. People slathered on sunscreen, pushed strollers and toted bathing suits. It was like any other weekend summer day at the zoo, except for dark reminders of the previous day.

 Just over 24 hours prior, 3-year-old Valerio the jaguar escaped his enclosure and mauled nine animals. Six animals were dead by the time zoo staff regained control of the jaguar Saturday morning. Two more animals, an alpaca and a fox, eventually died from their injuries, leaving a single fox as the lone survivor of Valerio's hunt.

 Despite a concerted attempt to resume normal operation, the zoo could not shake the news of the attack. Throughout the zoo, parents could be heard lecturing children on the circle of life. Audubon staffers fielded questions about Valerio. And much of the Jaguar Jungle exhibit was empty.

 At the entrance, Sean Brown asked the ticket seller if he'd get a chance to see a jaguar today. The seller responded with a polished announcement that the exhibit was closed for the time being as the staff grappled with yesterday's incident. Brown is from Jamaica and, despite being in his 30s, this was his first time at a zoo. He had bought a ticket for yesterday, but the zoo closed the facility following the attack.

 "I suppose this doesn't happen often, but he's just an animal," Brown said, his eyes surveying a map of the sprawling zoo. "He didn't know they were his colleagues."

 Many, including Audubon staffers, shared Brown's sentiments about Valerio's lethal attack, which left five alpacas, two foxes and one emu dead.

 In a news conference Saturday (July 14), Joe Hamilton, vice president and general curator at the zoo, called Valerio "a normal jaguar" just "doing what jaguars do."

 Still, there was no shaking the reality of previously filled enclosures missing some or all of their typical inhabitants. The alpaca paddock, positioned only yards from the jaguar exhibit, was empty. A sign identifying the species had been removed. The zoo acquired the alpacas in March from farms in Mobile, Alabama, and south Mississippi. All five of them were killed during Valerio's escape. A white sign was zip-tied to the jaguar enclosure, explaining that the exhibit was "under repair" due to "the recent incident."

 Jessica Netterville and Jessica Danby are friends and Audubon Society members, who often make the trek across Lake Ponchartrtain to bring their young boys to the zoo. They booked their Sunday trip long before news of the escape broke, but the recent event put their longstanding weekend tradition into question.

 "It definitely opened up the question of whether or not we should even have zoos and if we feed the zoo industry by bringing our kids here," said Danby.

 The two mothers also expressed concern about zoo employees who worked with the killed animals or had to clean up the aftermath of the attack. These workers signed up to be caretakers and their day included so much gore, they said.

 Audubon officials announced that the zoo would bring in grief counselors to meet with impacted staffers.

 Sunday afternoon crowds continued to roll in despite the day's sweltering temperatures and high humidity. Just outside the ticket booths, a crowd of children and parents gathered near the gift shop. Two kids knelt over a stuffed alpaca toy and a handwritten letter left by a young girl named Lily.

 The letter read: "To all the animals killed or injured in the jaguar accident, especially the guanacos ("alpacas"): Your hearts will always be in our memories, even if not many people noticed you over the capyberas and gators and turtles. It hurts my heart to say goodbye to you." ||||| The Audubon Zoo closed after a jaguar escaped from its habitat and killed six animals, according to a release from zoo officials, Saturday, July 14, 2018 in New Orleans. (Brett Duke/The Times-Picayune... (Associated Press)

 The Audubon Zoo closed after a jaguar escaped from its habitat and killed six animals, according to a release from zoo officials, Saturday, July 14, 2018 in New Orleans. (Brett Duke/The Times-Picayune via AP) (Associated Press)

 NEW ORLEANS (AP) — Eight animals have now died after a jaguar escaped from its habitat at the Audubon Zoo in New Orleans.

 NOLA.com reports an alpaca and fox died Sunday, the day after the male jaguar killed four alpacas, one emu and one fox Saturday morning. The jaguar was captured and returned to its night house after being sedated by a vet team.

 No people were hurt and the zoo was reopened Sunday.

 The zoo acquired the alpacas in March from farms in Alabama and Mississippi. The alpaca that died overnight Sunday was the zoo's last living alpaca.

 One injured fox continues to be monitored.

 It's not immediately clear how the animal escaped. Zoo officials say inspections found that the roof was "compromised," but initial findings concluded that keeper error was not a factor. |||||

Write a summary.

– Eight animals have now died after a jaguar escaped from its habitat at the Audubon Zoo in New Orleans. NOLA.com reports an alpaca and fox died Sunday, the day after the male jaguar killed four alpacas, one emu, and one fox Saturday morning. The jaguar was captured and returned to its night house after being sedated by a veterinary team. No people were hurt and the zoo was reopened Sunday. The zoo acquired the alpacas in March from farms in Alabama and Mississippi. The alpaca that died overnight Sunday was the zoo's last living alpaca. One injured fox continues to be monitored. It's not clear how the animal escaped, the AP reports. Zoo officials say inspections found that the roof was "compromised," but initial findings concluded that keeper error was not a factor.


Summarize this article:

Wolff on Media

 At home in Beverly Hills, the candidate talks Murdoch, what he's reading, how he'll redo electoral math and Ari Emanuel's offer to script his convention.

 The long day is ending for Donald Trump with a pint of vanilla Haagen-Dazs ice cream. We're settling in for a late-night chat at his Beverly Hills house, a 5,395-square-foot Colonial mansion directly across from the Beverly Hills Hotel. He's here for the final presidential primary, a California coronation of sorts, after rallies in Orange County (where violence broke out and seven people were arrested). He is, as he has been for much of our conversation — and perhaps much of the last year — marveling at his own campaign. "You looked outside before, you see what's going on," he boasts about the police surrounding his house, and the Secret Service detail cramming his garage and snaking around the pool at the center of the front drive. And he's just returned from a big donor fundraiser in Brentwood for the Republican Party at the home of Tom Barrack, the investor and former Miramax co-owner. "There had to be over a thousand policeman. They had a neighborhood roped off, four or five blocks away from this beautiful house. Machine guns all over the place."

 One thing to understand about Trump is that, rather unexpectedly, he's neither angry nor combative. He may be the most threatening and frightening and menacing presidential candidate in modern life, and yet, in person he's almost soothing. His extreme self-satisfaction rubs off. He's a New Yorker who actually might be more at home in California (in fact, he says he usually comes to his home here — two buildings on Rodeo Drive — only once a year). Life is sunny. Trump is an optimist — at least about himself. He's in easy and relaxed form campaigning here in these final days before the June 7 California primary, even with Hillary Clinton's biggest backers and a city that is about half Latino surrounding him.

 Earlier in the day, I'd met with Trump at a taping of ABC's Jimmy Kimmel Live! at the El Capitan Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard, where he was the single guest for the evening (musicians The Weeknd and Belly canceled upon learning of his appearance). "Have you ever seen anything like this?" he asked. He meant this, the Trump phenomenon. Circumventing any chance that I might dampen the sentiment, he quickly answered his own question: "No one ever has."

 His son-in-law, New York Observer owner Jared Kushner, married to his daughter Ivanka and also a real estate scion — but clearly a more modest and tempered fellow, a wisp next to his beefsteak father-in-law — offered that they may have reached 100 percent name recognition. In other words, Trump could be the most famous man in the world right now. "I may be," says Trump, almost philosophically, and referencing the many people who have told him they've never seen anything like this. "Bill O'Reilly said in his lifetime this is the greatest phenomenon he's ever seen."

 That notion is what's at the center of this improbable campaign, its own brilliant success. It's its main subject — the one you can't argue with. You can argue about issues, but you can't argue with success. Hence, to Trump, you're really foolish to argue with the Trump campaign. "I've spent $50 million of my own money to go through the primaries. Other people spent $230 million and they came in last. You know what I'm saying?" And this provides him the reason to talk endlessly and repetitively about the phenomenon of the campaign. That phenomenon is, of course, Trump himself, about whom Trump spends a lot of time talking in the third person.

 You can try, but it's hard to resist this admiration for himself. The certainty of it, the enthusiasm for it and the lack of not just doubt, but of any negativity. It's all upbeat and positive. The dark, scary, virulent heart of American politics is having the best time anyone has ever had.

 Trump at a May 25 rally in Anaheim. Violent clashes between protesters and police followed him through California.

 If onstage he calls people names, more privately he has only good, embracing things to say about almost everybody. (For most public people I know, it is the opposite.) He loves everybody. Genuinely seems to love everybody — at least everybody who's rich and successful (he doesn't really talk about anyone who isn't). Expressing love for everybody, for most of us, would clearly seem to be an act. But with Trump, it's the name-calling and bluster that might be the act.

 I offer that there are quite a number of people in New York, some we know in common, who are puzzled that the generous, eager-to-be-liked and liking-everyone-in-return Donald has morphed into a snarling and reactionary public enemy, at least a liberal enemy. This, I suggest, might be a source of the continuing dialectic — or to some, wishful thinking — that he does not necessarily believe what he says.

 I might detect the most mild sort of annoyance here. Trump says it's that he just never talked about his beliefs in the past — after all, he wasn't a politician. "Who thought this was going to happen?" But his larger point seems to be that such a topic — what he says — is a silly thing to focus on. The point is not about politics, or policies, but about how people, about how many people, have responded to him. It's too big to ignore the bigness. "You heard Jimmy announce tonight that I have the most votes in the history of the Republican Party," he says by way of explanation for the larger issues at hand — i.e., him.

 In a way, what this evening's Kimmel show was about was treating Trump's positions as though they are, well, Trump's positions, qualitatively different than other politicians' positions. In fact, you might logically see the Kimmel show as a devastating attack on Trump's views and claims. Kimmel flat out doesn't believe him. That recording of the PR person alleged to be Trump sounding like a PR person? Trump: "It didn't sound like me." Kimmel: "No. Sounded like you." (An exchange repeated similarly several times, with no rancor from either Trump or Kimmel.) "And oh," says Kimmel, "remember when you liked Hillary?" Trump: "I just said I like her. I say I like everybody." And there was Kimmel, at every opportunity, happily mocking Trump, the overexposed media whore.

 The effect is not only not damaging, it's fun-loving, comic, even joyous. Kimmel is tickled to have such a good sport to poke fun at, and Trump is tickled that Kimmel is tickled. Everybody's in on it. There are no phonies here. Or everybody here is honest about being a phony. Nobody is taking anyone very seriously — forget what might be at stake in a presidential election. If Trump is the subject of the conversation, then Trump is happy. If Kimmel has Trump as a guest, he's happy. Everybody's happy. (Trump has a staffer take a picture of another picture of Trump when he was previously on the Kimmel show that's now hanging on the studio wall.)

 It is this media frisson that, with countless other professional and amateur analyzers, I'm trying to plumb. Surely a big part of the answer lies in the nature of Trump's performance, an unself-consciousness so extreme that he has passed through hurdles of humiliation that would have destroyed nearly all others to emerge as though free of a private self. Trump is only fully alive in public. But another aspect is that, differentiating himself from every other candidate, he has a long, intimate relationship with nearly every significant player in the media and, indeed, lavishes copious praise on almost all of them. He may know few people in Washington, and care about them less, but he knows his moguls and where they rank on the modern suck-up-to list.

 On Murdoch: "Rupert is a tremendous guy. I think Rupert [who for several years lived in the Trump building on 59th and Park Avenue in Manhattan] is one of the people I really respect and like. And I think Rupert respects what I've done." But what about Murdoch's grumpy Trump tweets? "When I got into the world of politics, that was a different realm for me and maybe he felt differently. But I think he respects what I've done and he's a tremendous guy and I think we have a very good relationship."

 On Redstone: "Sumner, well, he's had a good run. Good run. Terrible it comes to this, but a good run. He'd give me anything. Loved me."

 On Leslie Moonves: "Great guy. The greatest. We're on the same page. We think alike."

 These are the bulls of his real party.

 The party whips, to strain this metaphor, are the news heads: Roger Ailes at Fox News, Jeff Zucker at CNN (who previously at NBC bought The Apprentice and launched Trump as a national TV star) and Andy Lack, now the head of NBC News. Despite his tweets about the "dishonest media," Trump is lavish in his praise of all of them. I ask him to rate them. "That's an unfair question," he says, making a rare grab for politesse. "I know Jeff very well. I know Roger very well. And, less well, but I think Andy has done a very good job."

 Among his frequent media and now political confidants is WME co-CEO Ari Emanuel — whose brother, Rahm, the mayor of Chicago, was once Obama's chief of staff — whom Trump says has offered to take charge of the Trump celebratory convention film. Emanuel and Trump, while at seeming odds politically, might in fact be even better united in a kind of hyper salesmanship. "He's a very good friend of mine," says Trump. "He calls me a lot. I call him a lot and we talk. He's very political. Even though he's not political, he's political. He gets it. You're shocked to hear that, right? [About the movie.] But yeah, I might do something with Ari. Does he represent you?"

 Sanders called a Trump win a "real danger to the entire world" on May 27.

 Trump will turn 70 on June 14, but he shows no sign of fatigue even as our conversation drifts toward 11 p.m. He's been at this since either 4 a.m. or 6 a.m. (he offers different times at different moments). "Today, I'm up at six in the morning, I'm meeting some of the biggest people in the world. I then had to give a speech to a big group, then I had to give a speech at 12 to [Dole Food mogul] David Murdock, [real estate magnate] Donald Bren, tremendous guys. Then I had to drive to Anaheim and give a speech in front of thousands of people. Then I came back and did more meetings, then I did a fundraiser tonight, then I did Kimmel. And now you. You're not a two-minute interview guy."

 He hands me a water bottle from the refrigerator (it only contains water and about a dozen pints of ice cream), and we walk through the dark house decorated with hotel-like furniture (a four-star rather than a five-star hotel lobby). He reclines, still in his standard boxy suit, tie slightly loosened, with his Haagen-Dazs on an overstuffed couch in the living room (he asks me not to put my water bottle on the fabric-covered ottoman).

 If there's any pattern to his conversation, it's that he's vague on all subjects outside himself, his campaign and the media. Everything else is mere distraction. But I press him about Peter Thiel, the Silicon Valley billionaire who, earlier in the day, has admitted to funding the $140 million Hulk Hogan lawsuit against Gawker. Thiel also is his most prominent Silicon Valley backer and will go to the convention in July as a pledged delegate. But Trump needs reminding who he is, and then concludes he must be a friend of his son-in-law Jared. ("Wow, I love him! So he funded it for Hulk Hogan? You think Hulk Hogan would have enough money, but he probably doesn't.") Indeed, Trump doesn't appear to be interested in Silicon Valley, except to roll off his numbers on each social media platform. ("On Facebook, I have close to 8 million people. On Twitter, I have 8.5 million. On Instagram, I have over a million people. I'm inching on 20 million people. I have friends, somebody that's a great writer, where they write a book and call me up and say, 'Can you do me a favor, can you tweet it?' " "Can you," I interject, "tweet my book, please?" "I will!")

 Finishing his pint, he reflects again on the remarkableness of the campaign, asking his traveling staffers, Corey Lewandowski and press secretary Hope Hicks, as well as his son-in-law, to confirm again how remarkable it is. Lewandowski recites the latest polls (as of press time, they show Trump inching to within a few percentage points of Clinton in a head-to-head matchup), and Trump, with something beyond confidence, seems to declare de facto victory.

 I broach his problems with women and Hispanics and the common wisdom that he'll have to do at least as well with these groups as Mitt Romney did in 2012. The "pivot" is the word more politico pros are using to refer to his expected turn to the center. "Unless," I offer, "you think you can remake the electoral math." He says he absolutely can. So no pivot. "It'll be different math than they've ever seen." He is, he says, bigger than anything anyone has ever seen. "I have a much bigger base than Romney. Romney was a stiff!" And he'll be bigger with the people he's bigger with, but also he'll be bigger with women and Hispanics and blacks, too. He believes, no matter what positions he holds or slurs he has made, that he is irresistible.

 I ask if he sees himself as having similarities with leaders of the growing anti-immigrant (some would say outright racist) European nativist movements, like Marine Le Pen in France and Matteo Salvini in Italy, whom The Wall Street Journal reported Trump had met with and endorsed in Philadelphia. ("Matteo, I wish you become the next Italian premier soon," Trump was quoted as saying.) In fact, he insists he didn't meet Salvini. "I didn't want to meet him." And, in sum, he doesn't particularly see similarities — or at least isn't interested in them — between those movements and the anti-immigrant nationalism he is promoting in this country.

 "And Brexit? Your position?" I ask.

 "Huh?"

 "Brexit."

 "Hmm."

 "The Brits leaving the EU," I prompt, realizing that his lack of familiarity with one of the most pressing issues in Europe is for him no concern nor liability at all.

 "Oh yeah, I think they should leave."

 It is hard not to feel that Trump understands himself, and that we're all in on this kind of spectacular joke. His shamelessness is just so … shameless. So how much, I ask — quite thinking he will get the nuance here — is the Trump brand based on exaggeration? He responds, with perfect literalness, none at all. I try again. He must understand. How could he not? "You've talked about negotiation, which is about compromise and about establishing positions that you can walk back from. How much about being a successful person involves … well, bullshitting? How much of success is playing games?"

 If he does understand, he's definitely not taking this bait. I try again: "How much are you a salesman?"

 Salesman, in the Trump worldview, is hardly a bad word, and he is quite willing to accept it, although, curiously, he doesn't want to be thought of that way when it comes to real estate. But as a politician, he's OK as a salesman.

 Trump says he's reading Edward Klein's book Unlikeable: The Problem With Hillary.

 In this, he sees himself — and becomes almost eloquent in talking about himself — as a sort of performer and voter whisperer. He is, he takes obvious pride in saying, the only politician who doesn't regularly use a teleprompter. With a prompter, he says, you can't work the crowd. You can't feel it. "You got to look at them in the eye. Have you ever seen me speak in front of a large group of people? Have you ever watched?" He reflects on the lack of self-consciousness that's necessary to make spontaneous utterances before a crowd. He cites a well-known actor (whose name he asks me not to use, "I don't want to hurt anybody"), who had wanted to run for office but, without a script, was a blithering idiot. Trump was never fed lines on The Apprentice, he says. It was all him: "You have to have a natural ability."

 I ask if he'll use a teleprompter for his acceptance speech at the convention and, almost sorrowfully, he says he probably will. I find myself urging him not to, precisely for the theater of it all. The spontaneity. Who would want to miss that? Let Trump be Trump.

 "Very interesting. What he's saying is very interesting," he notes to Lewandowski.

 He's punted on Hillary as a topic since we started our conversation, as though to talk about her was not to talk about him. If in public he needs to treat her as his cause, in private he doesn't want her taking up his time. But I sneak it back.

 "Did you ever vote for Bill?" I ask, thinking that both men have as much in common as they have that separates them.

 "Let's see … did I ever? Eh, I don't want to say who I voted for."

 Indeed. These two '80s guys were undoubtedly once quite in sync.

 The anti-Christ Trump, the Trump of bizarre, outre, impractical and reactionary policies that most reasonable people yet believe will lead to an astounding defeat in November, is really hard to summon from Trump in person. He deflects that person, or, even, dissembles about what that person might have said (as much, he dissembles for conservatives about what the more liberal Trump might have said), and is impatient that anyone might want to focus on that version of Trump. It does then feel that the policies, such as they are, and the slurs, are not him. They are just a means to the end — to the phenomenon. To the center of attention. The biggest thing that has ever happened in politics. In America. The biggest thing is the theme. It's what he always wants to come back to. Bigness is unavoidable and inevitable. Bigness always wins.

 Before Trump trundles off to bed — actually, before that, never too tired, he plans to watch himself on Kimmel — I ask that de rigeur presidential question, which does not seem yet to have been asked of him. "What books are you reading?"

 He knows he's caught (it's a question that all politicians are prepped on, but who among his not-bookish coterie would have prepped him even with the standard GOP politician answer: the Bible?). But he goes for it.

 "I'm reading the Ed Klein book on Hillary Clinton" — a particular hatchet job, which at the very least has certainly been digested for him. "And I'm reading the book on Richard Nixon that was, well, I'll get you the exact information on it. I'm reading a book that I've read before, it's one of my favorite books, All Quiet on the Western Front, which is one of the greatest books of all time." And one I suspect he's suddenly remembering from high school. But what the hell.

 Donald Trump simply believes he is a unique individual, one whose singular conviction that he is special makes him appealing. And pay no attention to everything else.

 A version of this story first appeared in the June 10 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe. ||||| Why it matters: A funding freeze could be seen as a slap against the organization — which the U.S. and Israel consider to be biased against Israel and too politicized — and an attempt to pressure the Palestinians to return to peace talks with Israel. But a State Department official said that the fact the money wasn't transferred on Jan. 1 doesn't mean it was frozen. "There are still deliberations taking place, and we have until mid January to decide what we are going to do,” the official said.

 The Trump administration has frozen $125 million in funding for the United Nations Relief and Works Agency, which provides aid to Palestinian refugees, according to three Western diplomats who were informed of the move. They said the funding, one third of the annual U.S. donations to the agency, was supposed to be transferred by Jan. 1 but was withheld.

 The details: The diplomats, who asked to speak on conditions of anonymity due to the sensitivity of the matter, said the funding was frozen until the Trump administration finishes its review of U.S. aid to the Palestinian Authority.

 The move comes after the Palestinian Authority suspended their contacts with the Trump administration in response to its decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel. A senior White House official said no decision have been made yet, but confirmed that a review of the U.S. assistance to the Palestinians is underway "in light of the Palestinians' recent conduct."

 The diplomats added that U.S. officials told U.N. officials in the last two days that President Trump is considering totally cutting the part of the funding which was frozen, and is even considering cutting up to $180 million, which amounts to half of the U.S. funding to UNRWA.

 The impact: The Western diplomats said freezing or cutting of such a big part of the U.S. funding would be catastrophic for the organization, would hamper its work and might lead to negative consequences for the Palestinian refugee camps in Gaza, the West Bank, Jordan and Lebanon.

 U.N. secretary general António Guterres has spoken with senior U.S. official about the UNRWA funding and also consulted with foreign ministers from other donor countries, according to the diplomats.

 The Israeli security establishment and the Coordinator of Government Activities in the Territories — the Israeli organization that oversees government activities in the West Bank and Gaza — are concerned about possible freezing or cutting of U.S. funding to UNRWA, fearing the escalation of the humanitarian crisis in Gaza.

 “The humanitarian situation in Gaza is complicated enough and harming UNRWA funding will only make it more complicated," a senior Israeli security official told me.

 What we're hearing: Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is not enthusiastic about the cutting of U.S. funding to UNRWA, but is politically pressed by conservative ministers in his cabinet and by the fact he can't be more dovish on the Palestinian issue than President Trump.

 Officials in the prime minister's office told diplomats from several western countries that Israel does not object to the cutting of U.S. funding to the Palestinian Authority, but prefers that the U.S. doesn't cut funding to UNRWA due to the fact it also serves Israeli security interests.

 A senior Israeli official told me Netanyahu is in touch with the White House on the UNRWA funding issue, and conveyed the message that Israel prefers “gradual disengagement" with UNRWA by the U.S. and not a big funding cut.

 The prime minister's office said in a statement: "Netanyahu supports President Trump's critical attitude towards UNRWA and believes practical steps need to be taken in order to change the fact that UNRWA is being used to entrench the Palestinian refugee problem instead of solving it." ||||| Author and columnist Michael Wolff was given extraordinary access to the Trump administration and now details the feuds, the fights and the alarming chaos he witnessed while reporting what turned into a new book.

 Editor’s Note: Author and Hollywood Reporter columnist Michael Wolff’s new book, Fire and Fury: Inside the Trump White House (Henry Holt & Co.), is a detailed account of the 45th president’s election and first year in office based on extensive access to the White House and more than 200 interviews with Trump and senior staff over a period of 18 months. In advance of the Jan. 9 publication of the book, which Trump is already attacking, Wolff has written this extracted column about his time in the White House based on the reporting included in Fire and Fury.

 I interviewed Donald Trump for The Hollywood Reporter in June 2016, and he seemed to have liked — or not disliked — the piece I wrote. "Great cover!" his press assistant, Hope Hicks, emailed me after it came out (it was a picture of a belligerent Trump in mirrored sunglasses). After the election, I proposed to him that I come to the White House and report an inside story for later publication — journalistically, as a fly on the wall — which he seemed to misconstrue as a request for a job. No, I said. I'd like to just watch and write a book. "A book?" he responded, losing interest. "I hear a lot of people want to write books," he added, clearly not understanding why anybody would. "Do you know Ed Klein?"— author of several virulently anti-Hillary books. "Great guy. I think he should write a book about me." But sure, Trump seemed to say, knock yourself out.

 Since the new White House was often uncertain about what the president meant or did not mean in any given utterance, his non-disapproval became a kind of passport for me to hang around — checking in each week at the Hay-Adams hotel, making appointments with various senior staffers who put my name in the "system," and then wandering across the street to the White House and plunking myself down, day after day, on a West Wing couch.

 The West Wing is configured in such a way that the anteroom is quite a thoroughfare — everybody passes by. Assistants — young women in the Trump uniform of short skirts, high boots, long and loose hair — as well as, in situation-comedy proximity, all the new stars of the show: Steve Bannon, Kellyanne Conway, Reince Priebus, Sean Spicer, Jared Kushner, Mike Pence, Gary Cohn, Michael Flynn (and after Flynn's abrupt departure less than a month into the job for his involvement in the Russia affair, his replacement, H.R. McMaster), all neatly accessible.

 The nature of the comedy, it was soon clear, was that here was a group of ambitious men and women who had reached the pinnacle of power, a high-ranking White House appointment — with the punchline that Donald Trump was president. Their estimable accomplishment of getting to the West Wing risked at any moment becoming farce.

 A new president typically surrounds himself with a small group of committed insiders and loyalists. But few on the Trump team knew him very well — most of his advisors had been with him only since the fall. Even his family, now closely gathered around him, seemed nonplussed. "You know, we never saw that much of him until he got the nomination," Eric Trump's wife, Lara, told one senior staffer. If much of the country was incredulous, his staff, trying to cement their poker faces, were at least as confused.

 Their initial response was to hawkishly defend him — he demanded it — and by defending him they seemed to be defending themselves. Politics is a game, of course, of determined role-playing, but the difficulties of staying in character in the Trump White House became evident almost from the first day.

 "You can't make this shit up," Sean Spicer, soon to be portrayed as the most hapless man in America, muttered to himself after his tortured press briefing on the first day of the new administration, when he was called to justify the president's inaugural crowd numbers — and soon enough, he adopted this as a personal mantra. Reince Priebus, the new chief of staff, had, shortly after the announcement of his appointment in November, started to think he would not last until the inauguration. Then, making it to the White House, he hoped he could last a respectable year, but he quickly scaled back his goal to six months. Kellyanne Conway, who would put a finger-gun to her head in private about Trump's public comments, continued to mount an implacable defense on cable television, until she was pulled off the air by others in the White House who, however much the president enjoyed her, found her militancy idiotic. (Even Ivanka and Jared regarded Conway's fulsome defenses as cringeworthy.)

 Steve Bannon tried to gamely suggest that Trump was mere front man and that he, with plan and purpose and intellect, was, more reasonably, running the show — commanding a whiteboard of policies and initiatives that he claimed to have assembled from Trump's off-the-cuff ramblings and utterances. His adoption of the Saturday Night Live sobriquet "President Bannon" was less than entirely humorous. Within the first few weeks, even rote conversations with senior staff trying to explain the new White House's policies and positions would turn into a body-language ballet of eye-rolling and shrugs and pantomime of jaws dropping. Leaking became the political manifestation of the don't-blame-me eye roll.

 The surreal sense of the Trump presidency was being lived as intensely inside the White House as out. Trump was, for the people closest to him, the ultimate enigma. He had been elected president, that through-the-eye-of-the-needle feat, but obviously, he was yet … Trump. Indeed, he seemed as confused as anyone to find himself in the White House, even attempting to barricade himself into his bedroom with his own lock over the protests of the Secret Service.

 There was some effort to ascribe to Trump magical powers. In an early conversation — half comic, half desperate — Bannon tried to explain him as having a particular kind of Jungian brilliance. Trump, obviously without having read Jung, somehow had access to the collective unconscious of the other half of the country, and, too, a gift for inventing archetypes: Little Marco … Low-Energy Jeb … the Failing New York Times. Everybody in the West Wing tried, with some panic, to explain him, and, sheepishly, their own reason for being here. He's intuitive, he gets it, he has a mind-meld with his base. But there was palpable relief, of an Emperor's New Clothes sort, when longtime Trump staffer Sam Nunberg — fired by Trump during the campaign but credited with knowing him better than anyone else — came back into the fold and said, widely, "He's just a fucking fool."

 Part of that foolishness was his inability to deal with his own family. In a way, this gave him a human dimension. Even Donald Trump couldn't say no to his kids. "It's a littleee, littleee complicated …" he explained to Priebus about why he needed to give his daughter and son-in-law official jobs. But the effect of their leadership roles was to compound his own boundless inexperience in Washington, creating from the outset frustration and then disbelief and then rage on the part of the professionals in his employ.

 The men and women of the West Wing, for all that the media was ridiculing them, actually felt they had a responsibility to the country. "Trump," said one senior Republican, "turned selfish careerists into patriots." Their job was to maintain the pretense of relative sanity, even as each individually came to the conclusion that, in generous terms, it was insane to think you could run a White House without experience, organizational structure or a real purpose.

 On March 30, after the collapse of the health care bill, 32-year-old Katie Walsh, the deputy chief of staff, the effective administration chief of the West Wing, a stalwart political pro and stellar example of governing craft, walked out. Little more than two months in, she quit. Couldn't take it anymore. Nutso. To lose your deputy chief of staff at the get-go would be a sign of crisis in any other administration, but inside an obviously exploding one it was hardly noticed.

 While there might be a scary national movement of Trumpers, the reality in the White House was stranger still: There was Jared and Ivanka, Democrats; there was Priebus, a mainstream Republican; and there was Bannon, whose reasonable claim to be the one person actually representing Trumpism so infuriated Trump that Bannon was hopelessly sidelined by April. "How much influence do you think Steve Bannon has over me? Zero! Zero!" Trump muttered and stormed. To say that no one was in charge, that there were no guiding principles, not even a working org chart, would again be an understatement. "What do these people do?" asked everyone pretty much of everyone else.

 The competition to take charge, which, because each side represented an inimical position to the other, became not so much a struggle for leadership, but a near-violent factional war. Jared and Ivanka were against Priebus and Bannon, trying to push both men out. Bannon was against Jared and Ivanka and Priebus, practicing what everybody thought were dark arts against them. Priebus, everybody's punching bag, just tried to survive another day. By late spring, the larger political landscape seemed to become almost irrelevant, with everyone focused on the more lethal battles within the White House itself. This included screaming fights in the halls and in front of a bemused Trump in the Oval Office (when he was not the one screaming himself), together with leaks about what Russians your opponents might have been talking to.

 Reigning over all of this was Trump, enigma, cipher and disruptor. How to get along with Trump — who veered between a kind of blissed-out pleasure of being in the Oval Office and a deep, childish frustration that he couldn't have what he wanted? Here was a man singularly focused on his own needs for instant gratification, be that a hamburger, a segment on Fox & Friends or an Oval Office photo opp. "I want a win. I want a win. Where's my win?" he would regularly declaim. He was, in words used by almost every member of the senior staff on repeated occasions, "like a child." A chronic naysayer, Trump himself stoked constant discord with his daily after-dinner phone calls to his billionaire friends about the disloyalty and incompetence around him. His billionaire friends then shared this with their billionaire friends, creating the endless leaks which the president so furiously railed against.

 One of these frequent callers was Rupert Murdoch, who before the election had only ever expressed contempt for Trump. Now Murdoch constantly sought him out, but to his own colleagues, friends and family, continued to derisively ridicule Trump: "What a fucking moron," said Murdoch after one call.

 With the Comey firing, the Mueller appointment and murderous White House infighting, by early summer Bannon was engaged in an uninterrupted monologue directed to almost anyone who would listen. It was so caustic, so scabrous and so hilarious that it might form one of the great underground political treatises.

 By July, Jared and Ivanka, who had, in less than six months, traversed from socialite couple to royal family to the most powerful people in the world, were now engaged in a desperate dance to save themselves, which mostly involved blaming Trump himself. It was all his idea to fire Comey! "The daughter," Bannon declared, "will bring down the father."

 Priebus and Spicer were merely counting down to the day — and every day seemed to promise it would be the next day — when they would be out.

 And, indeed, suddenly there were the 11 days of Anthony Scaramucci.

 Scaramucci, a minor figure in the New York financial world, and quite a ridiculous one, had overnight become Jared and Ivanka's solution to all of the White House's management and messaging problems. After all, explained the couple, he was good on television and he was from New York — he knew their world. In effect, the couple had hired Scaramucci — as preposterous a hire in West Wing annals as any — to replace Priebus and Bannon and take over running the White House.

 There was, after the abrupt Scaramucci meltdown, hardly any effort inside the West Wing to disguise the sense of ludicrousness and anger felt by every member of the senior staff toward Trump's family and Trump himself. It became almost a kind of competition to demystify Trump. For Rex Tillerson, he was a moron. For Gary Cohn, he was dumb as shit. For H.R. McMaster, he was a hopeless idiot. For Steve Bannon, he had lost his mind.

 Most succinctly, no one expected him to survive Mueller. Whatever the substance of the Russia "collusion," Trump, in the estimation of his senior staff, did not have the discipline to navigate a tough investigation, nor the credibility to attract the caliber of lawyers he would need to help him. (At least nine major law firms had turned down an invitation to represent the president.)

 There was more: Everybody was painfully aware of the increasing pace of his repetitions. It used to be inside of 30 minutes he'd repeat, word-for-word and expression-for-expression, the same three stories — now it was within 10 minutes. Indeed, many of his tweets were the product of his repetitions — he just couldn't stop saying something.

 By summer's end, in something of a historic sweep — more usual for the end of a president's first term than the end of his first six months — almost the entire senior staff, save Trump's family, had been washed out: Michael Flynn, Katie Walsh, Sean Spicer, Reince Priebus, Steve Bannon. Even Trump's loyal, longtime body guard Keith Schiller — for reasons darkly whispered about in the West Wing — was out. Gary Cohn, Dina Powell, Rick Dearborn, all on their way out. The president, on the spur of the moment, appointed John Kelly, a former Marine Corps general and head of homeland security, chief of staff — without Kelly having been informed of his own appointment beforehand. Grim and stoic, accepting that he could not control the president, Kelly seemed compelled by a sense of duty to be, in case of disaster, the adult in the room who might, if needed, stand up to the president … if that is comfort.

 As telling, with his daughter and son-in-law sidelined by their legal problems, Hope Hicks, Trump's 29-year-old personal aide and confidant, became, practically speaking, his most powerful White House advisor. (With Melania a nonpresence, the staff referred to Ivanka as the "real wife" and Hicks as the "real daughter.") Hicks' primary function was to tend to the Trump ego, to reassure him, to protect him, to buffer him, to soothe him. It was Hicks who, attentive to his lapses and repetitions, urged him to forgo an interview that was set to open the 60 Minutes fall season. Instead, the interview went to Fox News' Sean Hannity who, White House insiders happily explained, was willing to supply the questions beforehand. Indeed, the plan was to have all interviewers going forward provide the questions.

 As the first year wound down, Trump finally got a bill to sign. The tax bill, his singular accomplishment, was, arguably, quite a reversal of his populist promises, and confirmation of what Mitch McConnell had seen early on as the silver Trump lining: "He'll sign anything we put in front of him." With new bravado, he was encouraging partisans like Fox News to pursue an anti-Mueller campaign on his behalf. Insiders believed that the only thing saving Mueller from being fired, and the government of the United States from unfathomable implosion, is Trump's inability to grasp how much Mueller had on him and his family.

 Steve Bannon was openly handicapping a 33.3 percent chance of impeachment, a 33.3 percent chance of resignation in the shadow of the 25th amendment and a 33.3 percent chance that he might limp to the finish line on the strength of liberal arrogance and weakness.

 Donald Trump's small staff of factotums, advisors and family began, on Jan. 20, 2017, an experience that none of them, by any right or logic, thought they would — or, in many cases, should — have, being part of a Trump presidency. Hoping for the best, with their personal futures as well as the country's future depending on it, my indelible impression of talking to them and observing them through much of the first year of his presidency, is that they all — 100 percent — came to believe he was incapable of functioning in his job.

 At Mar-a-Lago, just before the new year, a heavily made-up Trump failed to recognize a succession of old friends.

 Happy first anniversary of the Trump administration. |||||

– The quotes are so incendiary that some are questioning their veracity. But Axios reports Fire and Fury: Inside the Trump White House author Michael Wolff has "dozens of hours" of tapes to back up statements that appear in the book. And in an excerpt running in the Hollywood Reporter, Wolff (who is the co-founder of Newser) explains just how he got access to them. A June 2016 Hollywood Reporter article may have helped grease things: Hope Hicks emailed Wolff to say Trump was pleased with the cover. Post-election, Wolff says he floated the idea of him coming to the White House "journalistically, as a fly on the wall" to gather information for a future book. Trump seemed disinterested in the idea of a book, but "his non-disapproval became a kind of passport for me to hang around," writes Wolff. And so Wolff writes he spent each week at the Hay-Adams hotel, scheduled appointments with senior staffers, and "plunk[ed] myself down, day after day, on a West Wing couch." The excerpt shares other tidbits—how the Secret Service protested the president's attempts to lock himself in his bedroom; how Trump's post-dinner calls to billionaire pals spurred leaks; how Jared Kushner and Ivanka Trump thought Anthony Scaramucci would be the White House's saving grace—which Trump's lawyer is now trying to block from release. The Washington Post reports Wolff and his publisher, Henry Holt and Co., have been sent a letter that demands they "immediately cease and desist from any further publication, release, or dissemination of the book" or any excerpts; the lawyer also wants a copy and says a libel suit is being considered.


News article:

Old Rag is Shenandoah's most popular and most dangerous hike. The number of blogs and websites about this hike attests to its popularity. The number of search and rescue missions each year attests to its danger. There's no doubt that the scramble is great fun and the views are spectacular. A day on Old Rag is one of Shenandoah's premier experiences. We want to be sure that your experience is not marred by an accident or health issue that could be prevented with good planning.

 Old Rag Mountain Safety Video (object placeholder) Planning Your Visit The most important step to a great hiking experience in Shenandoah National Park is good planning. Many of the points below are applicable to any hike, but there are a few special considerations for Old Rag. Be sure that you are physically able to complete this hike. The circuit hike is about 9 miles. There is a significant elevation change and a strenuous rock scramble that requires good upper body strength. Often, children and shorter adults need assistance navigating the scramble.

 Take at least 2 quarts of water per person. Dehydration is one of the most prevalent issues.

 Wear sturdy shoes that will support your ankles and allow you to to get a foothold without slipping.

 Allow 7 or 8 hours. Yes, people do it in less time but, like all types of travel, you may experience unanticipated delays. It's always a good idea to have a headlamp in case you don't complete your hike before dark.

 Be sure you know the forecast and never attempt this hike in wet or icy conditions.

 Stay with your group and stay on the trail. Do not allow children to run ahead.

 Although you need to be sure you have plenty of water and food, it is a good idea to pack as lightly as possible. Most hikers prefer fanny packs to backpacks which can be difficult to maneuver through the rock scramble.

 Planning your hike on a weekday will enhance your experience. Old Rag can become very crowded on weekends. At times, the parking lot will be full and there will be long lines and substantial waits at some of the narrow passages. For current conditions follow us on Twitter: ShenandoahNPS.

 Pets are strictly forbidden on Old Rag for their own and hikers' safety. Directions Although Old Rag Mountain is within the boundaries of Shenandoah National Park, most people approach it from the park's eastern boundary. Follow these directions to get to the trailhead: From Sperryville, Route 211: Take Route 522 south for .8 mile. Turn right onto Route 231 and go 8 miles. Turn right onto Route 601 and follow the signs to the parking area (approximately 3 miles).

 From Madison, Route 29 Business: TakeRoute 231 for 12.8 miles. Turn left onto Route 602 and follow the signs to the parking area (approximately 3 miles). Parking Especially during busy weekends, parking can be another challenge. All Old Rag hikers must use the large parking area at the Old Rag Fee Station. The small parking area at the Old Rag Trailhead is NOT open to the public. Parking at the lot at the fee station is free. You are required to purchase an entrance permit. Landowners with property adjacent to the Park are charging a fee for parking on their property. Paying a private citizen to park does not affect the entrance fee. Be sure to check the Shenandoah lot for availability before paying to park.

 In an effort to make the Old Rag experience safer, we have increased patrols so the trailhead lot will be reserved for Old Rag staff including Search and Rescue personnel, park staff, trail overseers, and Old Rag Mountain Stewards. The parking lot is about a .8 mile walk along the road to the trailhead

 Parking is prohibited along the road shoulders. Please use the lot to avoid being towed. Fees Visitors hiking Old Rag must have a valid Shenandoah National Park entrance permit. You can purchase permits and yearly passes from Rangers when present, or via self-pay at the Old Rag Fee Station. Please note: We cannot accept pre-loaded gift cards. Learn more about Shenandoah's fees. Overnight Camping in the Old Rag Area Legal overnight camping sites are very limited in the Old Rag area. Camping is prohibited above 2,800'. If you want to make your trip an overnight one, you'll need a Backcountry Camping permit and you'll need to study a map of the area to choose a site. Visit our Backcountry Trip Planning pages for more information. Study the suggested trips for the Old Rag, Corbin Hollow, and Nicholson Hollow areas. Old Rag Trail Description and Map Other Resources Want to know more about Old Rag? There are numerous organizations and publications devoted to this exceptional resource in Shenandoah National Park: Old Rag Mountain Stewards is a volunteer group whose members patrol the Old Rag area helping hikers understand how to protect themselves and the resource. Visit the Old Rag Mountain Stewards website. Websites and Blogs - You can learn a lot about Old Rag by reading the comments of other hikers. There are hundreds of comments about this and other great hikes on the "Hiking Upward" website for one example. Publications - Get hiking guidebooks and other publications about Old Rag from the Shenandoah National Park Association. ||||| Nicole Mittendorff (Photo: Virginia State Police)

 FAIRFAX, Va. (WUSA9) -- Police need help locating a missing 31-year-old woman firefighter from Woodbridge, Va.

 Police resumed their search for 31-year-old Nicole K. Mittendorff Monday morning.

 Search for Fairfax Co. Firefighter Nicole Mittendorff suspended for tonight. It will resume tomorrow am @wusa9 pic.twitter.com/lMKs7DsvA1 — Stephanie Gailhard (@stephitv) April 18, 2016

 She was reported missing to Virginia State Police on Friday and police say her car was found abandoned shortly before 8 p.m. on Saturday. She has not contacted her family since Wednesday.

 Her dad she is extremely dedicated to her job as a firefighter at Merrifield station. She has been a firefighter for three years.

 According to a post on Facebook. her dad says she did not show up for her Friday morning changeover.

 Mittendorff's 2009 Mini Cooper was found in a parking lot in Shenandoah National Park.

 She is described by police as a 5'6 white female, weighing 125 lbs. with blonde hair and green eyes.

 Mittendorff's dad says she enjoys training for triathlons.

 Her family says she would often go to Shenandoah National Park to run.

 Nicole's neighbors fear she was attacked on one of the trails.

 A prayer vigil for Nicole will be held Monday at 7:30 p.m. at St Paul UMC 1400 G St Woodbridge.

 Her family has set up a Facebook page titled Find Nicole.

 Anyone with information concerning her whereabouts is asked to call Virginia State Police at 703-803-0026. ||||| - (AP) - Virginia State Police say they are continuing their search for a woman who was reported missing and whose car was found abandoned in a parking lot in the Shenandoah National Park.

 Virginia State Police say 31-year-old Nicole K. Mittendorff of Woodbridge, Virginia, was reported missing Friday and her car was discovered Saturday evening. Monday's searches for Mittendorff, who is a firefighter and paramedic with Fairfax County Fire and Rescue, will concentrate in the region of White Oak Canyon Trail, where her vehicle was discovered.

 Mittendorff is a white female with blonde hair and green eyes. She is 5’6 and weighs approximately 125 lbs. The last contact her family had with her was Wednesday, April 13, 2016.

 Anyone with information concerning her whereabouts is asked to call Virginia State Police at 703-803-0026 or #77 on a cell phone or 911 or email at questions@vsp.virginia.gov. State Police say Mittendorff, who has blonde hair and green eyes, last had contact with her family on Wednesday.

 Family has set up a webpage to assist in the search: http://find-nicole.com/

 The Associated Press contributed to this report. ||||| Update: Search resumes for missing firefighter in Shenandoah National Park

 A car belonging to a missing 31-year-old Woodbridge woman was found in a remote area of the Shenandoah National Park over the weekend, but the search continues for the avid runner and tri-athlete who family members said might have been in the park to use a running trail.

 Virginia State Police discovered Nicole K. Mittendorff’s 2009 Mini Cooper parked near the White Oak Canyon Trail — close to Old Rag — on Saturday night, said Corinne Geller, a spokeswoman for the state police. But there has been no other sign of Mittendorff since the middle of last week. Family members reported Mittendorff missing Friday after she didn’t show up for a morning shift at her job, which was highly unusual for her.

 To aid in the search, the family set up a web page, Find-Nicole.com, that is seeking tips and has provided regular updates on Mittendorff’s possible whereabouts. In a Facebook post, her father said Mittendorff was “extremely dedicated” to her job and didn’t show up for a Friday morning changeover, sparking concern.

 Jennifer Clardy Chalmers, Mittendorff’s sister, said Mittendorff is a career paramedic/firefighter with Fairfax County Fire and Rescue, and has been with the department since 2013. The department directed questions to Virginia State Police.

 Nicole Mittendorff was reported missing on April 15, 2016 and her car was found in rural Virginia a day later. (Family photo)

 “We are holding up as best as can be expected under difficult circumstances,” Chalmers said Sunday. “At this time we are focused on finding Nicole and have the deepest appreciation for everyone helping. We hope and pray for a safe resolution in the near future.”

 Family members speculated that Mittendorff might have been going out to train for a race. Shenandoah National Park, along the Blue Ridge Mountains, has an extensive trail network, including a stretch of the Appalachian Trail. The White Oak Canyon Trail runs near Skyline Drive and it is known for it waterfalls.

 “Nicole likes to compete in multi-sport events such as triathlons and regularly runs half marathons,” read a companion Facebook page “Find Nicole.” “She participates in CrossFit, is a gym regular and can often be found riding and running on trails.”

 Robert Clardy, Mittendorff’s father, said in his Facebook post his last contact with her was through text messages at about 10:50 a.m. Wednesday morning.

 State and U.S. Park Police have been searching for Mittendorff by ground and by air, and efforts to find her continued Sunday afternoon, police said.

 Mittendorff is described as a 5-foot-6-inch white female with blonde hair and green eyes, weighing about 125 pounds. The Virginia State Police has asked anyone with information about Mittendorff to call (703) 803-0026 or email information to questions@vsp.virginia.gov.

 In a Facebook post Sunday morning, Clardy thanked friends and followers for their dedication to finding his daughter and for their words of support.

 “My near and dear are a treasure, and the time with them is a reservoir in this drought,” he said. |||||
What is a shorter version of the above article?

– Police have uncovered one big clue but no answers in the search for a 31-year-old Virginia woman who was last heard from on Wednesday. Nicole Mittendorff's 2009 Mini Cooper was found Saturday night in what the Washington Post describes as a "remote area" of the Shenandoah National Park; it was left near the Whiteoak Canyon Trail, which is close to Old Rag, described by the National Park Service as Shenandoah's "most popular and most dangerous hike." Some of Mittendorff's family suggested it's possible she was headed to the area to do a trail run, something she reportedly regularly did. Fox 5 DC reports authorities have said that nothing yet indicates something "suspicious in nature" occurred. WUSA9 describes Mittendorff as "extremely dedicated" to her job as a firefighter; her father says she didn't show up for a changeover on Friday morning, and she was reported missing that day. A "Find Nicole" website and Facebook page have been set up. The latter features a Saturday night post from Mittendorff's husband, Steven, who "continues to ask for your prayers for both our family and the many who continue to investigate." As for the search, another post on the page notes the Virginia State Police "do not need volunteers and they've asked to keep away anyone outside the official effort. That will keep any changes, traces or other items undisturbed and prevent distractions."