Good morning, Whitewater.

A new week begins in town with a high of sixty-five, and a likelihood of afternoon and evening thunderstorms.

Whitewater’s Planning Commission meets tonight at 6:30 PM.

Friday’s FW poll asked whether an ebola-themed costume seemed like a good choice for a Halloween party. Just under 9 of 10 respondents said that it wouldn’t be their pick.

Russian foreign policy brings violence to others, and her domestic policy brings oppression to her own people. Of those people, however, there are sure to be some who are good-hearted. This happy man, perhaps, is among them:

On this day in 1775, Congress authorizes a navy, not yet the United States Navy, but still an American predecessor:

The Continental Congress authorizes construction and administration of the first American naval force—the precursor of the United States Navy.

Since the outbreak of open hostilities with the British in April, little consideration had been given to protection by sea until Congress received news that a British naval fleet was on its way. In November, the Continental Navy was formally organized, and in December Esek Hopkins was appointed the first commander-in-chief of the Continental Navy. His first fleet consisted of seven ships: two 24-gun frigates, the Alfred and the Columbus; two 14-gun brigs, the Andrea Doria and the Cabot; and three schooners, the Hornet, the Wasp, and the Fly.

During the American Revolution, the Continental Navy successfully preyed on British merchant shipping and won several victories over British warships. After being disbanded for several years, the United States Navy was formally established with the creation of the Department of the Navy in April 1798.

Google-a-Day asks a question about discovery:

In what year was an uninhabited island located 1,404 miles away from the nearest human discovered?

Good morning, Whitewater.

Sunday in town will be partly cloudy with a high of sixty-three, and just a one-in-five chance of rain.

Reality’s catching up with science fiction: here’s a drone race in France that looks like a scene from Star Wars —

On this day in 1492, Columbus’s first voyage comes within sight of land:

On the evening of 3 August 1492, Columbus departed from Palos de la Frontera with three ships: a larger carrack, the Santa María ex-Gallega (“Galician”), and two smaller caravels, the Pinta (“The Pint”, “The Look”, or “The Spotted One”) and the Santa Clara, nicknamed the Niña (lit. “Girl”) after her owner Juan Niño of Moguer.[44] The monarchs forced the Palos inhabitants to contribute to the expedition. The Santa María was owned by Juan de la Cosa and captained by Columbus. The Pinta and the Niña were piloted by the Pinzón brothers (Martín Alonso and Vicente Yáñez).[26]

Columbus first sailed to the Canary Islands, which belonged to Castile, where he restocked the provisions and made repairs. After stopping over in Gran Canaria, he departed from San Sebastián de La Gomera on 6 September, for what turned out to be a five-week voyage across the ocean. A lookout on the Pinta, Rodrigo de Triana (also known as Juan Rodríguez Bermeo), spotted land about 2:00 on the morning of 12 October, and immediately alerted the rest of the crew with a shout. Thereupon, the captain of the Pinta, Martín Alonso Pinzón, verified the discovery and alerted Columbus by firing a lombard.[45] Columbus later maintained that he himself had already seen a light on the land a few hours earlier, thereby claiming for himself the lifetime pension promised by Ferdinand and Isabella to the first person to sight land.[26][46]

Columbus called the island (in what is now The Bahamas) San Salvador; the natives called it Guanahani. Exactly which island in the Bahamas this corresponds to is unresolved. Based on primary accounts and based on what one would expect based on the geographic positions of the islands given Columbus’s venture’s course, the prime candidates are San Salvador Island (so named in 1925 on the theory that it was Columbus’ San Salvador),[47] Samana Cay, and Plana Cays.[26]

Good morning, Whitewater.

It’s sunny skies ahead in town today, with a high of sixty. Sunrise is 7:04 AM and sunset is 6:19 PM. The moon is a waning gibbous with eighty-seven percent of its visible disk illuminated.

On a beautiful day like this, one can expect at least a few residents to enjoy skateboarding, at our skateboard park. But what about their means of locomotion? How are those skateboards made?

Here’s how:

One Skateboard At A Time from Chapman Skateboards on Vimeo.

Good morning, Whitewater.

Our work week ends with mostly sunny skies and a high of fifty-eight.

It’s a great musician’s birthday:

Thelonious Sphere Monk[2] (October 10, 1917[3] – February 17, 1982) was an American jazz pianist and composer, considered one of the giants of American music.[4] Monk had a unique improvisational style and made numerous contributions to the standard jazz repertoire, including “‘Round Midnight,” “Blue Monk,” “Ruby, My Dear,” “In Walked Bud,” and “Well, You Needn’t”. Monk is the second-most recorded jazz composer after Duke Ellington, which is particularly remarkable as Ellington composed more than 1,000 pieces, whereas Monk wrote about 70.[5]

His compositions and improvisations feature dissonances and angular melodic twists, and are consistent with Monk’s unorthodox approach to the piano, which combined a highly percussive attack with abrupt, dramatic use of silences and hesitations. This style was not universally appreciated, shown for instance in poet and jazz critic Philip Larkin’s dismissal of Monk as “the elephant on the keyboard”.[6]

He was renowned for his distinctive style in suits, hats, and sunglasses. He was also noted for an idiosyncratic habit observed at times during performances: while the other musicians in the band continued playing, he would stop, stand up from the keyboard, and dance for a few moments before returning to the piano.

Monk is one of five jazz musicians to have been featured on the cover of Time, after Louis Armstrong, Dave Brubeck, and Duke Ellington, and before Wynton Marsalis.[7][8]

That calls for Straight, No Chaser:

Google-a-Day asks a history question:

What nation was the source of the missiles found aboard the Yemen-bound unflagged freighter intercepted by the Spanish SPS Navarra on December 9, 2002?

Good morning, Whitewater.

Our Thursday will be sunny with a high of fifty-nine. Sunrise is 7:01 AM and sunset 6:22 PM. The moon’s a waning gibbous with ninety-eight percent of its visible disk illuminated.

Paper airplanes will never go out of style, but that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t benefit from upgrades:

Google-a-Day poses a question about architecture:

What is the most famous design in Rome by the architect credited with introducing High Renaissance style to the city?

Good morning, Whitewater.

Wednesday morning brought a lunar eclipse to North America. Wisconsin’s in North America, Whitewater’s in Wisconsin, so we got to see it, too. If you didn’t have a chance to view it early this morning, here’s a video recording of the eclipse from NASA (video updated as timelapse, 8:15 PM):

Our weather today brings sunny skies and a high of sixty-two.

The Community Development Authority meets today at 5 PM.

On this day in 1871, Wisconsinites in Peshtigo suffer the worst fire in American history:

The Peshtigo Fire was a forest fire that took place on October 8, 1871 in and around Peshtigo, Wisconsin. It was a firestorm that caused the most deaths by fire in United States history, with estimated deaths of around 1,500 people,[1] possibly as many as 2,500.[2] Occurring on the same day as the more famous Great Chicago Fire, the Peshtigo Fire has been largely forgotten.[3][4] On the same day as the Peshtigo and Chicago fires, the cities of Holland and Manistee, Michigan, across Lake Michigan, also burned and the same fate befell Port Huron at the southern end of Lake Huron as well….

The setting of small fires was a common way to clear forest land for farming and railroad construction. On the day of the Peshtigo Fire, a cold front moved in from the west, bringing strong winds that fanned the fires out of control and escalated them to massive proportions.[5] A firestorm ensued. In the words of Gess and Lutz, “A firestorm is called nature’s nuclear explosion. Here’s a wall of flame, a mile high, five miles (8 km) wide, traveling 90 to 100 miles per hour (160 km/h), hotter than a crematorium, turning sand into glass.” [6] By the time it was over, 1,875 square miles (4,860 km² or 1.2 million acres) of forest had been consumed, an area approximately twice the size of Rhode Island. Some sources list 1.5 million acres (6,100 km²) burned.[citation needed] Twelve communities were destroyed. An accurate death toll has never been determined because local records were destroyed in the fire. Between 1,200 and 2,500 people are thought to have lost their lives. The 1873 Report to the Wisconsin Legislature listed 1,182 names of deceased or missing residents.[7] In 1870, the Town of Peshtigo had 1,749 residents.[8][9] More than 350 bodies were buried in a mass grave,[10] primarily because so many had died that no one remained alive who could identify many of them.

The fire jumped across the Peshtigo River and burned on both sides of the inlet town.[11] Survivors reported that the firestorm generated a fire whirl (described as a tornado) that threw rail cars and houses into the air. Many escaped the flames by immersing themselves in the Peshtigo River, wells, or other nearby bodies of water. Some drowned while others succumbed to hypothermia in the frigid river. The Green Island Light was kept lit during the day because of the obscuring smoke, but the three-masted schooner George L. Newman was wrecked offshore; the crew was rescued without loss.[12]

The fire was so intense it jumped several miles over the waters of Green Bay and burned parts of the Door Peninsula. In Robinsonville (now Champion) on the Door Peninsula, Sister Adele Brise and other nuns, farmers, and families fled to a local chapel for protection. There they participated in prayers and devotions to the Virgin Mary. Although the chapel was surrounded by flames, it survived.[13][14][15] Those gathered at the chapel considered their survival a miracle.[16]

Google-a-Day asks a question of pop culture & television:

In the show’s last season, who played the part of the homeless person who came to live with siblings Mike, Carol, Ben and Chrissy and their stay-at-home psychiatrist dad?