From Mo'ne to Kenney to Bobby to Kid Hazo, our end-of-year roundup of all that was good, true and just in 2015.
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From Mo'ne to Kenney to Bobby to Kid Hazo, our end-of-year roundup of all that was good, true and just in 2015.
Some sage advice from all over the city for our new mayor. Plus: People are really angry about the Mummers this year, our field guide to eating and drinking your way through Fishtown and Kensington in 2016, and more.
Homes for the holidays.
In response to a challenge from President Obama, Philly stepped up for homeless vets.
Did Laurel, last yearâs number one, pull off a twofer? See â and savor â our new ranking of the best places to eat in Philly. Plus: Patrick Kerkstra on how Jim Kenney intends to run the city, Monica Weymouth on buying a house as a millennial, and more.
The best holiday displays in and around Philly. Plus: Why Ed Sniderâs 19-year-old grandson might just be the cityâs next great philanthropist, on the campaign trail with Pennsylvaniaâs most unconventional Senate candidate, Jason Sheehan reviews Coeur, and more.
The Philly running community sure got into the holiday spirit.
The Philadelphia 76ers narrowly averted setting a new league record for the most consecutive losses to start a season. Again!
An unexpected performance for Pope Francis made 14-year-old Bobby Hill a celebrity overnight. But with the phone ringing off the hook, Hill and those around him are facing an implacable foe: Mother Nature. http://www.phillymag.com/sunday/2015/12/06/fame-fate-boy-soprano/
Put aside the gift-buying and soak in the holiday spirit at one of these happy light displays.
Holiday runs, boot camps, yoga classes â it's getting mad festive up in here.
âTis the season for twinkling lights, hot cocoa, festive sweaters â and runs, workouts, fitness classes and healthy cooking workshops that combine all three. Here, a very holiday-heavy fitness-and-foodie calendar for your December planning purpose. Plus, you know, the Rocky 50K because, duh, itâs the Rocky 50K.
We asked some of our favorite Philadelphians to share their most cherished family recipes and the stories behind them. Everybody dig in!
Food is the centerpiece of the traditions that shape our lives. So we wondered: Whatâs Philly cooking this Thanksgiving?Â
âIt looked like the guy was going to surrender but then went running down the road toward the underpass.â
The trooper, reportedly shot in the shoulder, is said to be alert and in stable condition. There were no students on the bus.
The K9 beagles working at PHL Airport aren't sniffing out bombs or drugs. They're using their noses â and big, puppy-dog eyes â to protect America's food supply.
If you step off the plane at PHL after a long international flight this holiday season, thereâll be someone there waiting for you when you walk into baggage claim: An adorable, cuddly beagle.
The Main Line has long been the picture of suburban utopia. But as many of its African-American residents are making clear, for them itâs no utopia at all.
This past July, Jordan and Joshua Friday confronted one of those endless summer days that teenagers are given. They journeyed by bicycle to an auntâs house to swim, met up with a friend, and stopped to get pizza. After lunch, the trio went looking for a fourth friend in the Greens of Waynesborough, a small housing development near their Berwyn home. Jordan and Joshua, 15-year-old African-American high-school students, were unfamiliar with this subdivision. They figured theyâd reach the fourth kid on his cell phone or find his house. The identical twins, long and thin, both over six feet tall, were dressed in shorts and colorful t-shirts. They wore school backpacks slung over their shoulders, and bicycle helmets strapped tight to their heads. The twins â mom is a lawyer, dad is a doctor â pedaled slowly past wide lawns and big million-dollar houses, feeling right at home. But this development stretched several blocks from the main road.
The fourth boy didnât answer his cell phone. The Fridays werenât quite sure where he lived. And at some point, the white friend theyâd come with pedaled ahead of them. He was almost a full block away when the Fridays noticed the SUV.
Its driver pulled up near them â a white lady in sunglasses. Her face bore a stern expression, and she held her cell phone, landscape-style, toward the windshield. The twins didnât know what to think. Jordan Friday waved to her, to say hello. Then they ignored her and went on looking for the other boy. But the woman continued to track their every move. After a few minutes, Jordan wanted out. He pedaled away, hard, to catch up with the third kid. Joshua maintained his slow, rolling pace. But when the woman in the SUV stayed with him, he panicked. He pedaled faster, took every available turn, doubled back on his path. He didnât know where he was going. He just wanted to lose her. But she stuck right behind him, still holding her cell phone up, presumably to record him. He decided on a new tactic.
âI just thought,â he recalls, several weeks later, âIâd pedal up to her window and ask, âWhy are you following me?ââ
He turned his bike around to face the SUV directly. He started forward, toward the driverâs-side door.
The woman dropped her phone on the seat, put both hands on the wheel, and drove off, her stern expression given over to fear.
Joshua looked around.
By now, he was lost. He didnât see his brother, their friend, or the boy theyâd been trying to find. He tried navigating away from dead ends. He looked for turns that led to the exit and the main road. The streets had been empty before. Now he noticed a lot of people outside. He pedaled past one group that gathered near the curb. A womanâs voice rang out shrilly, calling a manâs name.
âI thought she was calling for her husband,â says Joshua. âI was scared that I was going to be attacked.â
He rode harder now, catching sight of his brother near the subdivision exit, only to be joined when he got there by the police. The boys were stopped and briefly questioned. One of the cops recognized the twins as neighborhood residents and allowed them to go on their way. But the sweet summer day that had stretched out so beautifully beforehand, that had hours left to run, looked suddenly dangerous.
He documents what the city looks like from above.
âI'm not breaking any locks. I'm just finding opportunities. There are some people around who pick locks, but I never do that.â
Where to eat, drink, shop, play and soak up the gloriousness that is autumn.
Our massive, gargantuan guide to 103 ways to have the best fall ever. From places to walk or run that are awash in gorgeous foliage to pumpkin-laced beauty treatments that are good enough to eat to warm seasonal cocktails thatâll help ward off the chill, weâre pretty confident we can win you over to Team Fall, in 3, 2, 1 âŠ
Moyamensing? Shackamaxon? Conshohocken? What the world looked like to the Lenape when they lived here.