Good morning, Whitewater.

Tuesday in the city will be partly cloudy, with a four-in-ten chance of afternoon thunderstorms, and a high of eighty-two.  Sunrise is 6:18 AM and 7:31 PM, for 13h 12m 16s of daytime.  The moon is a waning crescent with 4% of its visible disk illuminated.

On this day in 1945, Gen. MacArthur arrives in Japan:

Japan surrendered to the Allies on August 14, 1945, when the Japanese government notified the Allies that it had accepted the Potsdam Declaration. On the following day, Emperor Hirohito announced Japan’s unconditional surrender on the radio (the Gyokuon-h?s?). The announcement was the emperor’s first ever planned radio broadcast and the first time most citizens of Japan ever heard their sovereign’s voice.^[5] This date is known as Victory Over Japan, or V-J Day, and marked the end of World War II and the beginning of a long road to recovery for a shattered Japan.

Japanese officials left for Manila, Philippines on August 19 to meet MacArthur and to be briefed on his plans for the occupation. On August 28, 150 U.S. personnel flew to Atsugi, Kanagawa Prefecture. They were followed by USS Missouri,^[6] whose accompanying vessels landed the 4th Marine Division on the southern coast of Kanagawa. Other Allied personnel followed.

MacArthur arrived in Tokyo on August 30, and immediately decreed several laws. No Allied personnel were to assault Japanese people. No Allied personnel were to eat the scarce Japanese food. Flying the Hinomaru or “Rising Sun” flag was initially severely restricted (although individuals and prefectural offices could apply for permission to fly it). This restriction was partially lifted in 1948 and completely lifted the following year.^[7]

Today’s JigZone puzzle is of a pelican:

Good morning, Whitewater.

Monday in town will be mostly cloudy with a high of eighty-four. Sunrise is 6:17 AM and sunset 7:32 PM, for 13h 15m 03s of daytime. The moon is a waning crescent with 9.2% of its visible disk illuminated.

On 29 August, the U.S. Army’s 28th Infantry Division, who had assembled in the Bois de Boulogne the previous night, paraded 24-abreast up the Avenue Hoche to the Arc de Triomphe, then down the Champs Élysées. Joyous crowds greeted the Americans as the entire division, men and vehicles, marched through Paris “on its way to assigned attack positions northeast of the French capital.” ^[17]

JigZone‘s Monday puzzle is of a bridge:

Good morning, Whitewater.

Sunday in town will be cloudy in the morning, sunny in the afternoon, with a high of eighty-four.  Sunrise is 6:16 AM and sunset 7:34 PM, for 13h 17m 49s of daytime.  The moon is a waning crescent with 16.1% of its visible disk illuminated.

Friday’s FW poll asked whether a University of Pittsburgh student who got stuck between buildings (while leaping from one to another to impress a date) was reckless, romantic, or a bit of both.  A majority of respondents (61.29%) said that he was reckless.

Someone asked me, recently, why each day’s morning post at FW often includes mention of a national or state event. There are two reasons, one personal, one ideological. The quickest answer is simply that I like historical accounts and anecdotes.

There’s a second reason, however: too much of the policy in this city assumes a world no larger than one within the boundaries of Townline Road. This assumption comes not from localism, or even hyper-localism, but nearly a kind of solipsism. Policy made on that basis is (at best) flawed or (at worst) destructive.

Beginning the day with reference to international, national, or state events is a reminder that good policy rests on principles far broader than local glad-handing.

If all were well here, this perspective would matter less. But if all were well here, then it would mean that this perspective had been adopted more often.

On this day in 1963, Dr. King delivered his I Have a Dream speech during the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom.

On this day in 1862, the Iron Brigade sees its first combat:

On this date the Iron Brigade (Western soldiers) fought their first battle at Browner Farm. The unit was composed of the 2nd Infantry, 6th Infantry, 7th Wisconsin Infantry, and the 19th Indiana Infantry, 24th Michigan Infantry, and Battery B of the 4th U.S. Light Artillery and was well known for its valor at such Civil War battles as Bull Run, Antietam and Gettysburg. [Source: WHS Card File].

Good morning, Whitewater.

Saturday in town will bring thunderstorms and a high of eighty-one.  Sunrise is 6:15 AM and sunset 7:36 PM, for 13h 20m 34s of daytime.  The moon is a waning crescent with 24.9% of its visible disk illuminated.

On this day in 1883, volcanic eruptions destroy Krakatoa and cause global effects:

The 1883 eruption of Krakatoa in the Dutch East Indies (now Indonesia) began in the afternoon of August 26, 1883 (with origins as early as May of that year), and culminated with several destructive eruptions of the remaining caldera. On August 27, two-thirds of Krakatoa collapsed in a chain of titanic explosions, destroying most of the island and its surrounding archipelago. Additional alleged seismic activity continued to be reported until February 1884, though reports of those after October 1883 were later dismissed by Rogier Verbeek‘s investigation. It was one of the deadliest and most destructive volcanic events in recorded history, with at least 36,000 deaths being attributed to the eruption itself and the tsunamis it created. Significant additional effects were also felt around the world….

The eruption darkened the sky worldwide for years afterwards, and produced spectacular sunsets throughout the world for many months. British artist William Ashcroft made thousands of colour sketches of the red sunsets halfway around the world from Krakatoa in the years after the eruption. The ash caused “such vivid red sunsets that fire engines were called out in New York, Poughkeepsie, and New Haven to quench the apparent conflagration.”^[16] This eruption also produced a Bishop’s Ring around the sun by day, and a volcanic purple light at twilight.

In 2004, an astronomer proposed the idea that the blood-red sky shown in Edvard Munch‘s famous 1893 painting The Scream is also an accurate depiction of the sky over Norway after the eruption.^[17]

Weather watchers of the time tracked and mapped the effects on the sky. They labeled the phenomenon the “equatorial smoke stream”.^[18] This was the first identification of what is known today as the jet stream.^[19]

For several years following the eruption, it was reported that the moon appeared to be blue and sometimes green. This was because some of the ash clouds were filled with particles about 1 µm wide—the right size to strongly scatter red light, while allowing other colors to pass. White moonbeams shining through the clouds emerged blue, and sometimes green. People also saw lavender suns and, for the first time, recorded noctilucent clouds.^[16]

On this day in 1878, Sholes patents the typewriter:

On this date Christopher Latham Sholes patented the typewriter. The idea for this invention began at Kleinsteuber’s Machine Shop in Milwaukee in the late 1860s. A mechanical engineer by training, Sholes, along with associates Carlos Glidden and Samuel Soulé, spent hours tinkering with the idea. They mounted the key of an old telegraph instrument on a base and tapped down on it to hit carbon & paper against a glass plate.

This idea was simple, but in 1868 the mere idea that type striking against paper might produce an image was a novelty. Sholes proceeded to construct a machine to reproduce the entire alphabet. The prototype was sent to Washington as the required Patent Model. This original model still exists at the Smithsonian. Investor James Densmore provided the marketing impetus which eventually brought the machine to the Remington Arms Company. Although Remington mass-marketed his typewriter beginning in 1874, it was not an instant success.

A few years later, improvements made by Remington engineers gave the machine its market appeal and sales skyrocketed. [Source: Wisconsin Lore and Legends, p.41]

Good morning, Whitewater.

Friday in town will be partly cloudy with a high of seventy-nine. Sunrise is 6:14 AM and sunset is 7:37 PM for 13h 23m 19s of daytime. The moon is a waning crescent with 35.2% of its visible disk illuminated.

When Olympian Katie Ledecky threw out the first pitch at a Nationals game, Bryce Harper stood nearby holding all her many Olympic medals:

On 8.26.1939, an experimental first:

On this day in 1939, television station W2XBS in New York City broadcasts a doubleheader between the Brooklyn Dodgers and the Cincinnati Reds from Ebbets Field in Brooklyn. The game, filmed with two cameras, was the first Major League Baseball game ever aired on television.

W2XBS in Manhattan, a trailblazing television station owned by NBC, was the first to broadcast not just baseball, but college and professional football in 1939 and hockey and basketball in 1940. The station’s first foray into baseball broadcasting came in May 1939 when it aired a game between Columbia and Princeton universities from Baker Field in upper Manhattan–using just one camera that was essentially unable to follow the game as well as the naked eye. Three months later for the major league game, a second camera was added in order to better follow the action on the field. The first was placed by the visitor’s dugout down the third base line; the second camera was in the stands directly behind home plate. Newspapers reported that the ball could be seen leaving the pitcher’s hand on the way to home plate some of the time, a dramatic improvement over the first broadcast at Columbia.

Red Barber, the long-time radio voice of the Dodgers, also called the game for the broadcast. In the first game, Reds ace pitcher Bucky Walters flummoxed the Dodgers, holding them to just two hits in a 5-2 win. The Dodgers got their revenge in the second game with a 6-1 victory. In that second game, Dodger pitcher Hugh Casey snagged his ninth win with help from first baseman Dolf Camilli, who hit a two-run game-winning home run, his 22nd of the year, in the second inning.

The game was broadcast from New York City’s Empire State Building, completed just eight years earlier, and could be seen in homes up to 50 miles away.

A Google a Day asks a pop culture question: “Near what sea is the actual lighthouse where British inserts were filmed for Fraggle Rock?”