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    {
        "imgURL": "https://ichef.bbci.co.uk/news/976/cpsprodpb/CB1C/production/_98569915_christopheralder.jpg",
        "label": 1,
        "text": " Coppola added new color footage with British model June Wilkinson and other nude starlets\nIn 2020, Coppola released her second feature film, Love Is Love Is Love, a set of intertwined love stories about three couples\n\n",
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        "imgURL": "https://ichef.bbci.co.uk/news/976/cpsprodpb/CB1C/production/_98569915_christopheralder.jpg",
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        "text": "More than a decade after his death in police custody, the body of former paratrooper Christopher Alder was discovered lying in a mortuary. At the same time, in a grave bearing his name lay the body of a 77-year-old woman. No-one has ever been held responsible for either incident. Ahead of the 25th anniversary of his death, Mr Alder's sister, Janet, spoke to the BBC about the psychological toll of her battle for truth and accountability.  Christopher Alder was arrested on 1 April 1998 after an altercation outside a nightclub in Hull.  Within a matter of hours, he was dead on the floor of Queen's Gardens Police Station. In the moments before his death, CCTV footage taken from the custody suite showed laughing officers making monkey noises as they stood around the 37-year-old choking in a pool of his own blood. It was more than 10 minutes before he received any help from those charged with keeping him safe.   A quarter of a century on, and after countless efforts to get to the truth of what happened, Janet Alder continues to feel anger and frustration. \"I've been on an emotional roller coaster for years,\" she says. \"I've spent a lot of my years feeling rage and I'm just questioning myself - whether it's really happened - or questioning my sanity.  \"I feel isolated from the world out there.\" In August 2000, an inquest jury ruled that Christopher had been unlawfully killed.  No-one has been held accountable for his death, with five Humberside Police officers being cleared of manslaughter and misconduct in a public office charges at a criminal trial two years later. After burying who she thought was her brother in November 2000, Ms Alder discovered Christopher's heart had been left in the South Yorkshire mortuary where his post-mortem had taken place. She says years later her solicitor gave her more details. \"It [his heart] was found in a dirty bucket in Sheffield,\" Ms Alder recalls.  However, South Yorkshire Police (SYP) told the BBC it had no evidence Christopher's heart had been stored incorrectly at the mortuary.  In 2011, the family discovered that Christopher's body had not been laid to rest at Hull's Northern Cemetery as they thought.  Instead, a 77-year-old woman, Grace Kamara, had been buried following a mix-up at the Hull mortuary where Christopher's body had been taken back to after the examination in Sheffield. Ms Kamara's funeral had been delayed for a decade due to her family, who were from Nigeria, being unable to get visas to arrange and attend her service in the UK. An investigation commissioned by Humberside Police, but led by SYP, into the body mix-up found there was \"no realistic prospect\" of conviction on misconduct grounds or the charge of prevention of a lawful burial. SYP said a ledger detailing the movement of bodies in and out of the mortuary in Hull had not been filled in for her brother. That meant no-one was sure when Ms Kamara's body was released and thus, did not know who was responsible.  However, a document obtained by Ms Alder's solicitor has the date and time funeral staff were due to collect the body. When the BBC asked about this, for the first time SYP revealed it had identified and interviewed someone it believed should have been considered for prosecution for misconduct in public office. In its statement, which also covers questions asked of Humberside Police, it says the investigation related to the person who permitted the collection of the body from the mortuary.  The statement adds: \"The individual was interviewed under caution and a file was passed to the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS).  \"The CPS determined there was insufficient evidence to provide a realistic prospect of conviction and the criminal investigation concluded.  \"On this basis, their identity will not be shared.\" When the BBC told Ms Alder about this, she says it left her \"absolutely shocked\". \"That's the first I've ever heard of them actually finding the person that had released the wrong body. \"As far as I knew, the reason why they couldn't prosecute anybody is because they didn't know who released the wrong body.  \"I was told that in a meeting with South Yorkshire Police. \"I'm still in disbelief.\" \"I'd like those responsible to be held accountable,\" she added. Ms Alder believes that SYP's inquiry was flawed and serious questions remain unanswered. Reports reveal that before the mix-up was identified it was likely that dozens of police officers may have had sight of Christopher's body as part of a training programme to prepare trainee officers in dealing with corpses. In its statement to the BBC, SYP says \"a number\" of trainee officers may have seen a body in the mortuary, citing \"common practice at that time\". The force admits \"no evidence of any family consent for the same was ever identified\".  A court order made in 2015, following a civil case brought by Ms Alder against the local authority and NHS trust, has so far prevented her from disclosing further details. She says she has had to wade through 8,000 documents, describing the papers as a \"jigsaw\". \"Nothing made sense.  \"There was nothing telling us how Christopher had come to be in that mortuary or anybody that was responsible.  \"It was just made out that it was just an accident and an error type of thing. \"Over a period of time, I read the documents and just found lots of things, to me, that showed they were well aware it was Christopher in that mortuary all them years and I were gagged with a gagging order. \"I couldn't speak to anybody about it. So it's played on my mind and caused me lots of anxiety, isolation, pain and horror. \"[It's] had a psychological effect on me.\" Ms Alder claims she was told during a November 2013 meeting with SYP that Humberside Police trainees were \"possibly shown\" the Falklands veteran's body after his supposed burial. Notes taken by her solicitor and shared by Ms Alder with the BBC state they were told at the meeting that seven officers had visited the mortuary just before Mr Alder's funeral. Those officers had given various accounts, some \"either being told about Grace Kamara, others told about Christopher Alder. Others just see the body bag\". \"After the burial, police are shown a body, we don't know whose. It's a possibility they were shown Christopher Alder described as Grace Kamara,\" the notes record an officer telling them. Ms Alder, who a tribunal heard was subject to surveillance by police during her brother's inquest, also alleges: The bag containing her brother's body at the mortuary may have been opened as late as 2007. That was one of 10 opportunities to identify him between 1999 and 2011, according to her solicitor's notes of the 2013 meeting. She says this was not investigated properly by SYP.SYP's inquiry lacked independence as, among other things, a file obtained under the Freedom of Information Act by Ms Alder, revealed the force would be \"working under the direction of\" a senior Humberside Police officer, but the Humberside force \"will be accountable\". Ms Alder, whose story will be turned into a book and film to be released next year, says the prospect of another independent inquiry into the mix-up is \"very slim\". However, she does not rule out approaching the CPS and police again for answers. \"There should be accountability because justice is justice,\" she says. \"It's not something I am expecting though.\" Hull City Council, which ran the city's mortuary before 2011, says it \"very much regrets\" the mistakes made with the body of Mr Alder. It says it recognises the \"terrible upset and concern\" the errors have caused. The authority says the SYP investigation highlighted \"a number of failings\" which it had worked to put right. Humberside Police has previously apologised for its failure to \"treat Christopher with sufficient compassion\". That apology came years after a 2006 report by the police watchdog which  said four of the officers present in the custody suite were guilty of the \"most serious neglect of duty\" and \"unwitting racism\". For his sister, who will thank supporters at a special event at Hull's Afro-Caribbean Centre on Saturday, that is nowhere near enough. \"I've had an experience that's kind of taken me from what I believed was the world out there [to] somewhere completely different and dark. \"It's nearly killed me.  \"I just really didn't expect any of this when Christopher had died. I just expected the right thing to be done.\"",
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        "label": 1,
        "text": "In September 1998, Bangladesh saw the most severe flooding in modern history, after which two-thirds of the country went underwater, along with a death toll of 1,000\n Bangladesh reached the quarter-final of the 2015 Cricket World Cup, the semi-final of the 2017 ICC Champions Trophy and they reached the final of the Asia Cup 3 times \u2013 in 2012, 2016 and 2018\n\n",
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        "text": "Hundreds more photographic images, saved from being dumped at a tip, have been unearthed and handed over to a city archive.  Some of the glass negatives, rescued by former cameraman Ian Hollands, have lain unseen for more than 30 years.  The collection, depicting the lives of people in Coventry as the city restored itself following the devastation of the blitz in 1940, was taken by Arthur Cooper.  More information had also come to light about the photographer himself.  Mr Hollands had previously sent thousands of the negatives he had rescued to publishing company Mirrorpix where they were digitised and made available to view as part of the Coventry Digital initiative.  Following a BBC report highlighting the Coventry University scheme, Mr Hollands was prompted to hand over more boxes, containing about 500 negatives, to the project's director Dr Ben Kyneswood.  Arthur Cooper, a freelance photographer, worked in the city from the 1930s to the 1960s, capturing weddings, award ceremonies and events as well as visiting celebrities and royalty for publications such as the Midlands Daily News and the Coventry Evening Telegraph.  An \"early look\" at the collection showed it contained images similar to the 8,049 already digitised, Dr Kyneswood said. \"I was really hopeful that there was more out there,\" he added,  \"so to find out that there was more out there and that they're in my office now - it's fantastic\".  Keen photographer Mr Hollands, 75, said he had been alerted to the fact the valuable negatives were about to be taken to a tip some time in the late 1980s, and he had to act quickly to save them. He had retrieved the thousands of glass plates from the garden of Mr Cooper's widow, Marjorie, where they had \"just been chucked in rubbish bags\". \"I took them home and put them all in cardboard boxes, and they stayed on the shelf in my house for about 15 or 20 years,\" he explained.  About ten years ago most of the collection he passed on to Mirrorpix via his son, Samuel Hollands, who worked for the Coventry Evening Telegraph at the time.  \"One day a Ford transit van turned up and we loaded all the glass plate negatives into the back of this van and that's the last I saw them until I've heard about them now,\" he explained.  \"I kept a few boxes back just so I could go through them, but they've been sitting around in my house ever since,\" he said, but had handed over the archive after being alerted to Dr Kyneswood's project.  Samuel Hollands said he had been shocked to see the coverage of Arthur Cooper on the BBC. \"When I told my father he didn't believe me, he thought it must be something else,\" he said.  \"But I just knew they were the ones that we'd given in all those years ago.\"  \"I'm pleased I did something about it, because I could have just ignored it and they would have gone,\" his father added.\" More details had also emerged about the photographer himself, explained Dr Kyneswood.  \"A family member had got in touch with some photographs of Arthur, and to say he had served in Egypt in World War Two, and detailed some of the military campaign medals he had won.\" Information from Mr Cooper's niece, 78-year-old Sandra Johnson, also revealed he had worked as a photographer to King Faisal II of Iraq when the ruler was just seven years old. He was also a Freeman of the city. He said since the story about Mr Cooper was published in January, about 100,000 people had viewed the photographer's images on the Coventry Digital website, which was \"amazing\". \"We've had some great stories come out, people being able to point out friends and families,\" he said.  \"And they're able to tell me what they're looking at and give me some exceptional detail.\" The collection was significant because it gave people \"a chance to tell their stories, because they can see themselves, and their life in these pictures,\" he said.  After scanning the latest negatives they would be driven to the Mirrorpix archive in Watford \"where they'll join the other Arthur Cooper archive negatives, and they'll be saved forever,\" Dr Kyneswood added.  Follow BBC West Midlands on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Send your story ideas to: newsonline.westmidlands@bbc.co.uk",
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    {
        "imgURL": "https://ichef.bbci.co.uk/news/976/cpsprodpb/3774/production/_127569141_bronson.png",
        "label": 1,
        "text": " The United Kingdom includes the island of Great Britain, the north-eastern part of the island of Ireland, and many smaller islands within the British Isles\n The daffodil and the leek are the symbols of Wales\n\n",
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        "imgURL": "https://ichef.bbci.co.uk/news/976/cpsprodpb/3774/production/_127569141_bronson.png",
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        "text": "Known by many as \"Britain's most violent prisoner\", Charles Bronson has spent almost 50 years in jail. The armed robber turned artist, now 70, is awaiting a decision by the Parole Board on whether he can be freed. One man who knows him better than most is former prison officer Roy Kirk, who was assigned to look after him for almost a decade. The first time the 21-year-old officer clapped eyes on Charles Bronson, the well-built prisoner was clad only in his underpants and smeared with faeces while snarling at a small army of guards.  Roy Kirk had been sent to collect Bronson from a segregation unit at a prison in Liverpool and transport him across the country to his new home in HMP Hull. But, as ever with the former bare-knuckle boxer, things were not always as simple as they could be. Mr Kirk said the group of officers, clad in riot gear and using protective shields, had managed to lever open the door to Bronson's cell, extricate him and guide him to a shower. \"There wasn't an inch of the walls that never had faeces everywhere,\" Mr Kirk said of the mid-1980s encounter. \"I said to him, 'you don't need to be living like an animal for the rest of your life - you can make changes, you've still got time to do that'.\" The officer immediately got a taste of Bronson's unpredictability. \"He winks at me, turns around and pulls the full shower fitting out of the wall - it's about 4ft long - and then he threw it on the floor and laughed, and said, 'get me in the van'.\" When the pounding of Mr Kirk's heart abated, he was at the start of what would become one of the prison system's most unusual friendships. Born Michael Peterson in Luton, Bedfordshire, in December 1952, Charles Bronson took the name of the Death Wish movie actor in the 1980s.  By the time he got to HMP Hull, Bronson, who changed his surname to Salvador in 2014, was on the way to becoming notorious in the jail system. But Mr Kirk said he saw a different side, describing the man who reportedly did 2,000 push-ups a day as \"always pleasant, polite\". During the time Bronson, who was played by Tom Hardy in the eponymous 2009 film, was in Hull he learnt basic skills such as cooking and washing, while sharing his physical training knowledge. Mr Kirk recalled his charge as having a sense of humour which was \"second to none\".  \"We got on like a house on fire. I stuck up for him when I felt necessary.\" Mr Kirk spent time in the gym with Bronson, with the pair boxing and lifting weights together. \"I'd sit on his shoulders with his head between my legs and he'd do 50 press-ups as a warm-up with me sat on his back. I always used to think, 'he's like a machine'.  \"I've never been as fit because he was like a mentor in the gym,\" the now 58-year-old former officer recalled. Bronson was first jailed aged 22 in 1974 for armed robbery and wounding. He has spent most of his life in jail since, as a result of attacks on staff and inmates, violent protests as well as a series of nine hostage-takings which involved a total of 11 victims. At one of his trials, he described himself as a \"very nasty man\" in the past. Mr Kirk recalled how, shortly after teaching him to cook, Bronson asked prison staff for their opinion on some chips he had prepared.  His fellow officers, wary of the prisoner's volatile persona, declined to tell the truth and attempted to placate him with praise.  \"They all said it were great and he came to me last and said, 'what do you think?'  \"I spat it out and said, 'they're absolutely awful'.  After thanking Mr Kirk for his honesty, Bronson confronted the same staff \"screaming and shouting and frothing in their faces for lying to him\".  \"It was those types of behaviours that kept people on their toes,\" Mr Kirk, who now runs a children's home in Hull, remembered. While Bronson could have a wicked sense of humour and get along with people, the other side of his personality manifested itself in one terrifying incident. In April 1994, Bronson took the jail's deputy governor, Adrian Wallace, hostage. Mr Kirk said as a result of good behaviour, Bronson had been told he could see family and friends in London.  The visit never happened, leaving the atmosphere around Bronson \"extremely heightened\". Following a brief exchange of words, he dragged Mr Wallace out of the kitchen into a TV room with reinforced glass, \"carrying him by the throat in one hand, with his feet off the floor\".  \"I ran across, got probably within about 10ft of him,\" Mr Kirk said. \"Charlie put his hand on the side of his head - [deputy governor's] still off the floor - and said, 'one more step and I'll just snap his neck here and now'.\" Mr Kirk tried negotiating with Bronson, who had lashed the terrified official to a chair with his own key chain. The deputy governor was repeatedly attacked by Bronson, who punched him in the face and then picked him up by his hair. As the room crackled with tension, Bronson, surrounded by guards and a special \"intervention\" squad, issued a ransom demand of a helicopter and two portions of fish and chips. \"He was walking up and down with the radio on talk-through, marching like a soldier, singing at the top of his voice, 'now the end is near and we draw the final curtain' like he was going to kill him at the end of the song. \"You're stood there the whole time, heart in your hand. You don't know what to do for the best.\" Five hours later, Mr Kirk had an opportunity to tackle Bronson who, while wearing a shield fashioned from curtains and cushions, fell over debris as he dragged his victim to another room. Within seconds of the intervention, the deputy governor was saved - but Mr Kirk was injured. \"I was knelt on him, hitting him, trying to hold him until people arrived, but he got to his feet. Then we fell to the floor.  \"Sadly, in that time my leg had been snapped. He rolled over and fell through my knee. I was staggered at the power.\" Mr Wallace was off work for five weeks due to the injuries inflicted by Bronson. Mr Kirk believed it was Bronson's volatile behaviour coupled with the prison service's \"false promises\" that fuelled the violent siege. Looking back at his time in the system, he said despite the inmate's extreme violence he had also been failed by the prison service at times. \"He's always going to be volatile.  \"He'll always have that side. But you could say that about other offenders.  \"They're still a risk in society.\" The question of whether Bronson should be freed on parole is one Mr Kirk is happy to answer, but recognises the differing views. He said offenders like Bronson should be supported - though accepted it would be \"extremely difficult for him\" to be reintegrated into society. \"I was very close to Charlie, like I would be with anybody I've worked with daily, [I] kept professional distance and boundaries. But we'd become very good friends,\" he added. Mr Kirk said he was thinking of writing a book about his experiences and hoped to once again meet Bronson, who is currently at HMP Woodhill in Milton Keynes. \"I hope he does get released. I'd like to go and see him if at all possible.\" Follow BBC East Yorkshire and Lincolnshire on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Send your story ideas to yorkslincs.news@bbc.co.uk.",
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        "text": " Though several variants of an end scene were considered and filmed, Heather Langenkamp states that \"there always was this sense that Freddy was the car\", while according to Sara Risher, \"it was always Wes' idea to pan to the little girls' jumping rope\"\n The National Elm Trial in North America, begun in 2005, is a nationwide trial to assess strengths and weaknesses of the 19 leading cultivars raised in the US over a 10-year period; European cultivars have been excluded\n\n",
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        "imgURL": "https://ichef.bbci.co.uk/news/976/cpsprodpb/108A6/production/_128205776_mediaitem128205775.jpg",
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        "text": "On 9 January 1923 Edith Thompson and her lover Frederick Bywaters were executed for the murder of her husband, even though there was no evidence she knew he would be stabbed. Why was she convicted, and how does the case still resonate a century later? The hangman and his assistants arrived promptly at the condemned cell of London's Holloway Prison on what was an icy Tuesday morning. Before them 29-year-old Edith Thompson lay slumped, barely conscious following days of injections of a powerful sedative. She let out a moan as the execution team moved in. \"Come on, it'll soon be over,\" one of the men tells her as he raises her by the waist. Edith's arms and ankles are bound and she is carried towards a shed where a gallows and trapdoor await. Within seconds, she is dead. Half a mile away in Pentonville Prison, and at the same time, her 20-year-old lover suffered the same fate. Three months earlier Freddy Bywaters had repeatedly stabbed Edith's husband Percy as the married couple made their way home from a trip to the theatre. Freddy always insisted it was an attack his lover did not know was coming. Edith's crime was to be attractive, independent, working class and unfaithful - the victim, according to one expert on the case, of a societal intolerance of women who did not obey the moral codes of the day. As the prolific novelist and screenwriter Edgar Wallace put it: \"If ever in the history of this country a woman was hanged by the sheer prejudice of the uninformed public, and without the slightest modicum of evidence to justify the hanging, that woman was Edith Thompson.\" Edith Graydon was someone who wanted a life that was different from the one working-class women were expected to accept. Born in the east London suburb of Manor Park on Christmas Day in 1893, she was the first of five children. As the eldest, Edith would help her mother look after her sister and three brothers. Once her schooling was complete, the ambitious and intelligent young woman headed into the City for work, joining wholesale milliners Carlton & Prior. She quickly rose within the ranks to become the firm's chief buyer. \"She was a sort of so-called ordinary woman who wanted to be extraordinary,\" says author Laura Thompson, who has written two books about the case. In January 1916 Edith married shipping clerk Percy Thompson. They bought a house at 41 Kensington Gardens in Ilford, not far from where both had grown up. Edith earned more than her new husband - and also her father - and contributed more than half the \u00a3250 cost of the property, although the deeds had to be in Percy's name. As a newly married young woman she would have been expected to settle into domestic life and motherhood, but Edith had other ideas. An excellent dancer, she enjoyed nights out at London's finest hotels and dance halls - places not intended for people of her social standing - and evenings were often spent with friends at West End theatres, cinemas and restaurants. \"I find her such a modern figure, she's a sort of Grazia girl,\" says Ms Thompson, who is not related to Edith. \"She's a girl about town. She's ambitious, she's aspirational. She wanted to own her own home which she did even though it had to be in her husband's name.\" Unwilling to be bound by the conventions of the time, Edith was not an ordinary wife. What is more, she had a lover, a handsome and charming man more than eight years her junior. Frederick Bywaters knew the Graydon family as he was in the same class at school as one of Edith's brothers. At the age of 13, Freddy left London to join the Merchant Navy. During a visit home in June 1921 he was invited to the Isle of Wight for a weeklong holiday with Percy, Edith and her sister Avis Graydon. By the end of the trip a furtive romance had begun between the teenager and Edith, which only flourished when Freddy was invited to move in with the Thompsons for a few weeks. He would end up leaving 41 Kensington Gardens following a confrontation with Percy, who was sometimes abusive towards his wife. During the argument she was thrown across the room by Percy, leaving her badly bruised. With Freddy often away, the lovers wrote to one other frequently in letters Edith instructed must be destroyed after reading. \"They're remarkable documents,\" says Ms Thompson, whose new book examines the letters in detail. \"They're so expressive, they're sort of her other self poured on the page.\" In one letter, Edith jumps from describing the mundane ins and outs of daily life to expressing thoughts about sex, abortion and suicide.  She would often flit between fact and fantasy; on occasion there was content that was seemingly rather sinister. Edith, an avid reader of fiction, would sometimes imagine herself as a character from a novel and in doing so would hint at wanting to be rid of Percy, perhaps by adding small pieces of glass to his food. In one letter she wrote: Yesterday I met a woman who had lost three husbands and not through the war, two were drowned and one committed suicide, and some people I know can't lose one. How unfair everything is. Bess and Reg are coming to dinner Sunday. Another said: I was buoyed up with the hope of the 'light bulb' and I used a lot - big pieces too - not powdered - and it had no effect - I quite expected to be able to send you that cable - but no - nothing has happened from it. University College London professor Ren\u00e9 Weis, who has studied the case for decades, believes the letters show no more than the \"workings of an overwrought romantic imagination\".  For Edith, these fantasies would prove to be deadly. On 3 October 1922 Edith and Percy spent the evening watching the comedy The Dippers at the Criterion Theatre near Piccadilly Circus. After the show they boarded a Tube to Liverpool Street before catching a train to Ilford. As they walked along Belgrave Road towards their house, a man barged into the couple. He set upon Percy, who within seconds was lying motionless on the ground. The 32-year-old shipping clerk had sustained several knife wounds to his neck. Daylight would reveal his blood splattered along a 44ft (13m) stretch of the road. A murder investigation was soon under way. Percy's brother told police they should speak to Freddy. The 20-year-old's room in his mother's home was searched and the first of Edith's love letters was found. She too was now under suspicion. In a corridor at Ilford police station, detectives arranged it so that Edith and Freddy would set eyes on one other, in the hope she would incriminate herself. After this encounter, she wailed: \"Why did he do it? I didn't want him to do it. Oh God, oh God, what can I do? I must tell the truth.\" His cabin on his ship, the Morea, was searched and more letters were discovered locked in a box, including those that mentioned Edith's apparent desire for Percy to be out of the picture. Freddy did not deny stabbing Percy, but claimed the older man had struck out at him and he had acted in self-defence. When he was told that Edith was also to be charged with murder, Freddy replied: \"Why her? Mrs Thompson was not aware of my movements.\" Details from the letters were splashed across the newspapers in reports of the pre-trial hearings. The defendants found themselves at the centre of a storm. \"They were glamourous. They had an almost film-star air to them,\" Ms Thompson says. \"He looked like a Rupert Brooke figure, almost, and she must have had a huge erotic charge about her.\" On 6 December 1922, Edith and Freddy were led into a packed courtroom at the Old Bailey for their murder trial.  Crowds had massed early outside the famous London court, with a place in the public gallery the premium seat in the capital. Towards the end of the nine-day trial, unemployed men were lining up outside the building each night and then selling their places in the queue the next morning for more than the average weekly wage in Britain. For writer Beverley Nichols, who was a young reporter at the time and was present throughout the trial, the case had the air of \"the days of the Roman Empire when the Christians were thrown to the lions\". Speaking on a BBC radio programme in 1973, he described how the Old Bailey \"had the atmosphere of a first night\".  \"You had all these people who might be in the dress circle or the stalls; a great many society women, sensation-seekers, and they were all treating it as if it were a thing for which they paid for their seats.\" Artists from Madame Tussauds were also in courtroom number one, sketching the two latest villains the attraction hoped to install in its Chamber of Horrors. As crucial evidence for the prosecution, extracts from the love letters were read out in court. Such was the vocal reaction from the public gallery, the jurors were instructed to read the passages to themselves. \"The horror of having them read out in court, that's what kills me - those private, intimate words and the public gallery behaving like crazed lunatics listening to this private, private stuff - it's like trying to torture someone, I think,\" says Ms Thompson. The timing of the case, in the aftermath of World War One, seemed to add to a brewing sense of hatred towards Edith, as Prof Weis explains. \"The narrative went that Britain was full of war widows and here was an uppity and selfish young woman, from a modest background at that, who had everything - looks, a lovely house, money, a good husband, dinners, dances, theatres. And look what she did. One good man wasn't enough for her. \"The public came to admire Freddy and intensely dislike Edith, a siren who had seduced a young man and thus set in motion a chain reaction that resulted in one man's death and the certain execution of a 'lad',\" Prof Weis says. The public's dislike of Edith was evidently shared by the judge, Mr Justice Shearman, who would repeatedly interject on the side of the prosecution. During his summing up, he told the jurors - whom he would only address as gentlemen even though two were women - how he felt about Edith's adultery: \"I am certain that you, like any other right-minded person, will be filled with disgust at such a notion.\" The evidence against her was at best flimsy. Percy's body was tested for poison and traces of glass but nothing incriminating was found. Witness accounts supported Edith's assertion she had been taken by surprise on the night her husband was stabbed. The book that sank on the Titanic and burned in the Blitz'Mum was embarrassed about her WW2 bravery medal'The Sierra Leonean airman shot down over Nazi Germany Despite her barrister's desperate pleas, Edith took to the stand to give evidence. \"That to me was a sign of innocence, that you would be so adamant that you would want to do that,\" says Ms Thompson. But Edith had made a dreadful mistake. The prosecution manipulated what she had written in the letters, finding false narratives and giving misleading time periods \"to tie her up in knots\". On 11 December the jury went out; a verdict was reached after two hours of deliberations. A terrified Edith was half-carried back into the courtroom to be told she and Freddy had been found guilty of murder.  \"The jury is wrong. That woman is not guilty,\" cried out Freddy amid a commotion in the courtroom. A black cap was placed over Mr Justice Shearman's wig as he sentenced them to death. Edith let out a guttural cry as she was taken down to the cells. A petition to spare Freddy from the hangman's noose received more than a million signatures. Edith, though, seemed not to inspire much sympathy. \"Women disliked her because they feared her; she was one of those women that other women think men fancy, and she was troubling and she couldn't be pitied,\" says Ms Thompson. \"She really never stood a chance.\" Opinion pieces appeared in the newspapers, the majority of them scathing. \"There were no circumstances in the case to evoke the slightest sympathy,\" the Times wrote. \"The whole case was simple and sordid.\" Self-proclaimed feminist Rebecca West wrote that Edith \"was, poor child, a shocking little piece of rubbish\". After the execution, women would write to Home Secretary William Bridgeman thanking him for defending the honour of their sex by not allowing the death sentence to be commuted. Edith wrote letters from prison, highlighting the anguish of a woman facing obliteration. In one note to her parents she remarked: Today seems the end of everything. I can't think - I just seem up against a blank, thick wall, through which neither my eyes nor my thoughts can penetrate. It's not within my powers of realisation that this sentence must stand for something which I have not done, something I did not know of, either previously or at the time. Every woman sentenced to death during the previous decade had been reprieved, yet pleas on Edith's behalf were rejected. \"When you see the contortions which the Home Office underwent to ensure that she was executed, it's really quite terrifying,\" says Ms Thompson, who believes Edith's adultery was seen as \"an attack on morality\" - the sort of behaviour that risked \"destroying the institution of marriage and destroying all that was good\". In September 1923 an auction of the Thompsons' household goods was held at the marital home, attracting huge interest. One of the auction staff described how \"the privet hedge was left bare of every leaf because the people who attended wanted to say to their friends they had something from the house\". The waxworks of Edith and Freddy were the top attraction at Madame Tussauds, the fascination with the case seemingly inexhaustible.  They were removed from the Chamber of Horrors in the 1980s. The figures are today in storage; their wax degrading, the paint peeled away. Prof Weis has for many years fought to have Edith pardoned. In 2018 her body was reburied alongside her parents at the City of London Cemetery in Manor Park. \"I was hoping to fulfil her mother's dying wishes,\" he says. \"Now at least she is home with them.\" For Ms Thompson, Edith's fate remains relevant, even though it is more than 50 years since capital punishment ended in Britain. \"It's important to remind people nothing changes, prejudice always exists; it just shape-shifts. \"There is an awful warning in this story: check your worst impulses towards people to whom you feel prejudice. We live in a cancelling culture - she was literally cancelled - and it's a very, very dangerous impulse but society finds it hard to resist.\" Story edited by Ben Jeffrey Follow BBC London on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Send your story ideas to hellobbclondon@bbc.co.uk",
        "title": "",
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        "label": 1,
        "text": " \"That was not planned at all,\" Diplo said\n I see it\n\n",
        "title": "",
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        "imgURL": "https://ichef.bbci.co.uk/news/976/cpsprodpb/15097/production/_128076168_h_01546445.jpg",
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        "text": "Images saved from a skip, showing the restoration of a city devastated by the blitz, have been identified and catalogued thanks to the work of volunteers. Thousands of photographs taken by Coventry photographer Arthur Cooper from the 1940s up to the 1960s have been digitized and released online by Coventry University. The archive, in the form of thousands of glass negatives, was found dumped on a Coventry street and returned to publishing company Mirrorpix. After sitting at the company's Watford archive for nearly a decade, the 8,049 rescued images have been made available to view as part of the Coventry Digital initiative.  The archive had no information attached, explained the project's director Dr Ben Kyneswood, so he has called on community groups and organisations to help identify people and places to add metadata. \"As soon as I opened the files I thought 'this is just marvellous'. There were just thousands of images with no information on,\" said Martin Williams. The chairman of the Friends of Coventry Cathedral group has so far helped identify and caption about 700 of the pictures. \"It was when I saw early historic photos that I'd never seen before that I got very excited,\" he said.  Images such as rubble from the blitz being cleared from the cathedral in 1948 were \"very important\", he explained.  \"That's just one moment in the history of the cathedral\" that could have been lost.  The pictures depict weddings, award ceremonies and festivals as well as visiting celebrities and royalty and were taken while the photographer worked for publications such as the Midlands Daily News, Birmingham Post and Mail and the Coventry Evening Telegraph. \"I've been involved with Coventry Cathedral since 1962 and so was at many events which Arthur covered as a freelance, so I got to know him,\" said Mr Williams.  \"He was a lovely man, we just got on really well.\"  Some time after Mr Cooper's death the thousands of glass plates were found in a skip.  \"My understanding is the family were disposing of the archive some years ago, when someone recognised its worth and organised for its retrieval, \"explained John Mead, archive manager at Mirrorpix owner Reach PLC. \"We recovered about 10,000 glass plates, with the collection predominantly documenting the rebuilding of the city after the war.\" The negatives initially went to the Coventry Telegraph archive. Then, as the office closed down in 2012, they were passed to the archivist in Watford.  \"But we couldn't identify who was in these pictures because there was no documentation whatsoever with the archive, all we knew was it was taken by Arthur,\" explained Mr Mead.  The collection is a \"complete time capsule of history of a very specific location\", added Fergus McKenna, content sales director of Reach. The collaboration with Coventry Digital had enabled the company to \"give that collection back to the city and ask the community to engage with it\", he added.  Dr Kyneswood said volunteers had \"loved\" getting involved in identifying people and places in the archive.  More than 10,000 people a month had been accessing and sharing the images, he said, but the project was still working to identify thousands of other people in the collection. Some groups had been able to identify specific vehicles, sporting events and adding the stories behind the picture \"which is when it gets really interesting\", he added.  \"There's a lovely story where the Godiva Harriers' archivist identified a race that ended on Binley School track and it was to allow Coventry runner Brian Kilby to qualify for the Olympics in 1964. \"He spotted somebody in there whose wife Pam connected him to his wife and he's still married to her 54 years later,\" he said.  Users of the Historic Forum had also found some \"very particular stories\", he added.  About a picture of a TVR car taken in 1963, the forum had \"identified the garage, they've identified the man who is standing next to the car - Peter Simpson - and then with a bit more digging they then found the car had just been renovated and so they posted online a picture of the same car\". Rob Orland, founder of the Historic Coventry Forum, said his group with thousands of members had \"risen to the challenge\" of being able to identify a photograph's location or year \"using fragments of what's visible in the picture\". \"I think most of us enjoy a bit of ancient detective work,\" he added.  The work of the community in helping identify the pictures was \"very valuable\", explained Mr McKenna.  The collaboration was helping make the archive searchable, he said.  \"You're going from an asset that was in a dusty old loft to something now that's online and only going to get more discoverable and more shared and more used going forward.\" Arthur Cooper's collection was important as it had captured \"a social record of a time and a place that isn't there any more\",  he added.  Follow BBC West Midlands on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Send your story ideas to: newsonline.westmidlands@bbc.co.uk",
        "title": "",
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        "label": 1,
        "text": " Basil Rathbone's The Scarlet Claw (1944) sees Sherlock Holmes investigate murders committed with a five-pronged garden weeder that the killer would raise in the air and bring down on the victim repeatedly, an editing technique that became familiar in the genre\nFriday the 13th Part III, the first slasher trilogy, was an enormous success, selling 12 million tickets and dethroning E\n\n",
        "title": "",
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    },
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        "text": "The closure of an elite swimming club amid allegations of bullying earlier this year caused turmoil in the sport that continues today. As swimmers say they feel lessons have not been learnt, governing body Swim England is facing questions about the protection of its young members. The medal haul that returned to Shropshire after last weekend's Short Course Regionals was impressive - 14 golds, 10 silvers and eight bronze.  It was Ellesmere College Swimming Academy's first competition of the season, one which saw the young swimmers travel to Nottingham to compete. The vast majority of swimmers that train at the rural Shropshire school are now affiliated to City of Leicester Swimming Club, which is based more than 100 miles away in the East Midlands.  The school-run academy has sprung up in place of Ellesmere College Titans, which, in April this year, was forced to disband by Swim England following a lengthy investigation into multiple claims of bullying and emotional abuse.  Swimming's national governing body ruled it would not affiliate any club that was held at Ellesmere College in the future. Instead, weeks after Titans closed, the academy was set up by college bosses and more than 30 of its 45 young members affiliated to City of Leicester, along with three of Ellesmere's coaches.  It seemed like the perfect solution - no \"club\", as such, would be based at the independent school, but swimmers could continue to compete, albeit for a club based in a different part of the country.  But some of those who came forward to allege bullying at Titans have told the BBC it felt like the sanction of no affiliation had been \"circumvented\" and no lessons had been learnt. Danny Proffitt, one of two Titans coaches temporarily suspended as a result of the bullying investigation, is among the new City of Leicester coaches based at the school. \"It feels like a slap in the face because, when you take a step back, nothing has really happened,\" the woman, now in her 20s, told the BBC. \"Everyone that came forward had to dig up their trauma for something to actually be done, and it's like nothing ever happened. \"There have been no shockwaves - it is beyond deflating.\" A parent of a former swimmer who also alleged bullying said it felt like their experiences had been \"denied, buried and airbrushed\" by Swim England and the college. \"Years on we are still waiting for adults to stand up and do the right thing - the children have still never had an apology.\" The investigation at Titans, which included complaints by male and female swimmers stretching back several years, hit the headlines in 2021 when its director of swimming Alan Bircher, a 10-time British champion and world championship silver medallist, was suspended along with Mr Proffitt.  The nature of the allegations was kept confidential by Swim England. But earlier this year, three ex-Titans swimmers told the BBC they had faced humiliating public weighing regimes that left more than one with an eating disorder, were made to swim despite injuries and illnesses and had a torrent of inappropriate comments made to them during training. Mr Proffitt and Mr Bircher, whose suspension prevented him from coaching Team GB's swimmers at the Tokyo Olympic Games in 2021, have never commented publicly on the allegations.  It sparked a debate on social media in which polar opposite views emerged - the requirement for young gifted swimmers to \"toughen up\" for what is often a brutal competitive environment on one side, with others pointing out that emotional abuse of children is not acceptable in any sport, school or workplace. Swim England, which has more than 100,000 members under 18, is now facing multiple questions over its attitude to safeguarding from parents, coaches and even some from inside the organisation itself.  The BBC understands many coaches are leaving the sport, with claims of a growing \"toxicity\" in which they feel unsupported as they try to navigate the challenges of training children. Elite swimming club to close after damning reportSchool criticised over swimming club safeguardingSwimmers speak in support of suspended coach Sport England is also conducting an independent review into Swim England's own processes, including how it dealt with complainants in the wake of the Titans probe and a separate investigation into a row between coaches and the committee of City of Oxford Swimming Club.  Furthermore, the organisation has come under fire from its recently-departed child safeguarding expert Keith Oddy, who left Swim England in summer shortly after filing a highly-critical report, seen by the BBC, which described a chaotic picture at the organisation.  The former Metropolitan Police officer, who is a child safeguarding expert with British Equestrian and British Rowing, said it had failed to tackle a series of issues including the widespread taking of indecent pictures of children in changing rooms. Mr Oddy, who presided over hundreds of safeguarding cases during his tenure, said Swim England had been slow to conduct its own analysis of the Whyte Review into allegations of mistreatment in gymnastics, which would avoid a similar situation happening in swimming. He also stated workloads in the safeguarding team had become unmanageable after they were furloughed during England's coronavirus lockdowns, when swimming pools closed, and accused senior management of interfering in cases. The governing body had an \"obvious failure to put child protection at the heart of decision making\", he said. \"Swim England is heading for a situation where the protection and safeguarding of children will be placed at risk,\" his report concluded.  Mr Oddy told the BBC he had not heard from the board since issuing his report. Parents of current Ellesmere swimmers told the BBC they welcomed Sport England's investigation. This was echoed by the parent volunteer-led committee of the Oxford club, where all five coaches quit in 2021 in a furious row with management. The committee had started investigating safeguarding complaints made by swimmers, but coaches claimed they were in fact being bullied by those in charge.  Club chairman Nicola Brown said Swim England had given the committee no support despite being asked. \"At every point we asked for help and we never got it,\" she said.  Swim England denied it did not take safeguarding seriously and said it had improved its team by appointing former Surrey Police detective Kevin Suckling as the new head of safeguarding. Investigative journalist Mark Williams-Thomas, also a former detective with Surrey Police and best known for helping to expose Jimmy Savile in an ITV documentary, is understood to be among a panel of investigators the organisation will utilise. In a statement, the organisation said: \"We have made significant improvements to our staffing structure and expertise of the team - including the appointment of a full-time head of safeguarding and welfare as well as establishing two further positions within the department.  \"In addition, under our new structure we have a bank of experienced and highly qualified independent child safeguarding officers, whom we utilise, providing significantly more capacity in this area. \"All changes have been made with the safeguarding and welfare of our members at the forefront.\" It added an in-depth piece of work was in progress \"to assess the approach against the outcomes of the Whyte Review\" and added it \"strongly disagreed\" with suggestions bosses interfered in safeguarding cases. In response to coaches leaving the profession, Swim England said it would \"always endeavour to ensure that our coaches' voices are heard\" but that \"we hold our coaches accountable to the highest standards of safe and effective practice, thereby ensuring that our participants enjoy a positive and fulfilling sporting experience.\" \"We understand that people will move in and out of the profession and therefore we continually look for ways to ensure that aquatics coaching is a rewarding role.\" Regarding Ellesmere swimmers competing for City of Leicester, the governing body said all swimming clubs were free to accept new members, regardless of where they were based. It is understood the Shropshire college denies any suggestions it evaded sanctions. Sport England confirmed a review into Swim England was under way. \"[We have] been made aware of concerns raised in relation to how complaints were handled at a small number of swimming clubs.   \"Safeguarding and welfare in sport is of paramount importance and if complaints are raised, they should be taken very seriously. \"Although we have no regulatory powers in sport, we can explore whether the right processes were followed, and are looking into this matter.\" Follow BBC West Midlands on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Send your story ideas to: newsonline.westmidlands@bbc.co.uk",
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        "label": 1,
        "text": " Confounding expectations, Dylan devoted three chapters to his first year in New York City in 1961\u20131962, virtually ignoring the mid-1960s when his fame was at its height\n The sleeve notes for the new box set are by Sid Griffin, author of Million Dollar Bash: Bob Dylan, the Band, and the Basement Tapes\n\n",
        "title": "",
        "url": ""
    },
    {
        "imgURL": "https://ichef.bbci.co.uk/news/976/cpsprodpb/AB6F/production/_127078834_kim1blur.jpg",
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        "text": "A sex abuse survivor has been paid a substantial sum after claiming school staff failed to protect her when she was raped by her mother's partner. Kim Fawcett became pregnant by Robert Stuart McClelland at 14 while she was a pupil at independent Ellesmere College. She contacted the school more than a decade after the truck driver was jailed in 2004, to see if more could have been done to stop her abuser. The Shropshire college confirmed a payment had been made by insurers. This story contains details of child sexual abuse  Miss Fawcett, a human rights lawyer, said multiple teachers and support staff had known about the allegations of abuse and also claimed her mother's partner had been able to drive on to school premises where he raped her in his van. She fought to access school records which showed at least one member of staff was aware McClelland was sending lewd text messages to the teenager in 2002 when she was 13 . A handwritten note recorded that he had texted to say she was \"so beautiful\" adding \"your mom won't be home tonight, we will be all alone\". \"When you sit on my bed you don't know how it makes me feel,\" the text message added. The existence of the text messages was never disclosed to social services, Miss Fawcett discovered. In correspondence seen by the BBC, the school and its lawyers vigorously challenged her claims against Ellesmere College, saying many were unsubstantiated and the school had done nothing wrong. Miss Fawcett, who has waived her right to anonymity to speak to the BBC, said initially she had had no intention of taking legal action against the school, which charges fees of up to \u00a335,000 a year. But she said repeated rebuttals from longstanding headmaster Brendan Wignall, who told her the school had nothing to apologise for, had forced her to singlehandedly fight on. In letters seen by the BBC, Mr Wignall told her the signs of abuse were \"too subtle\", adding: \"I do not believe the college would act differently if similar events were to happen today.\" Miss Fawcett said she could not believe a child in her situation now would be treated the same way. \"I only ended up issuing [starting legal action] because I wanted them to take me seriously,\" Miss Fawcett said. \"I wanted them to listen. \"It was really important to me that lessons were learnt.\" Miss Fawcett got a scholarship to the school in 1999, with her fees topped up by her maternal grandparents.  She was described by her teachers as quiet, conscientious and hard-working.  But her home life was complicated and when her mother began a relationship with McClelland it was not long before he began grooming the teenager. She was 13 when he raped her for the first time at his home in Oswestry. Evidence given during his trial heard Miss Fawcett's abuser scratched the date of the assault into a bottle of Smirnoff Ice he had plied her with beforehand. The abuse continued for months and, aged 14, Miss Fawcett discovered she was three months pregnant. McClelland forced her to have an abortion, when she also learned she had contracted a sexually transmitted infection. The schoolgirl told a family friend and eventually found the courage to go to police, who discovered the bottle and text messages McClelland had sent the teenager when they raided his home.  Miss Fawcett, by then 15, gave evidence in his trial at Chester Crown Court and he was jailed for six years, of which he served two.  If you have been affected by the issues raised in this story, information and support can be found via BBC Action Line. In the years that followed, she suffered severe mental health problems as the scale of her ordeal took its toll. A counsellor helping her heal from post traumatic stress disorder, when Miss Fawcett was in her 20s, asked where all the adults in her life had been at the time.  She said she had decided to contact her former school \"to better understand what had happened\".  Miss Fawcett thought she would get answers easily, but what followed was an almost three-year fight. The college said it could not find her nursing records, she was told, and so could not verify her recollection of being treated at the infirmary when she self-harmed. It also said staff members, a number of whom have remained in post since Miss Fawcett was a student in the early 2000s, did not recall her reaching out to ask for help. It did have a record of her missing weeks of lessons, but said this had not raised concerns as her grades had remained good.  The college also recorded concerns raised by a friend's mother about the messages and rumours circulating around the school that Miss Fawcett was being raped.  Social services was contacted, but regarding a separate matter. The college made no mention of concerns around her mother's partner and documents show social services closed the case the same day.  Social workers only became involved again the following year as part of the police investigation. Miss Fawcett's case against Ellesmere College hinged on the argument that if staff and teachers had fulfilled their safeguarding responsibilities, their intervention could have spared her months of abuse and a lifetime of mental health issues. In 2003, the school's own child protection policy dictated staff should be alert to signs of abuse, with particular attention paid to attendance and changes in behaviour, and that accurate records needed to be kept in a secure place.  Between 2017 and 2018, Ms Fawcett wrote to the college looking for answers, often waiting months for a response. She said correspondence had felt \"as if they were dealing with some unfortunate individual making an embarrassing scene\". Eventually, she contacted the Information Commissioner to get her records. As well as the notes about the texts, they included a letter from McClelland to the school in which he claimed Miss Fawcett was \"sorry for wasting your time\" after telling a \"few little white lies\" - another reference to staff being aware of what was happening. Miss Fawcett issued the start of legal proceedings, outlining her claims concerning the college in full. In response, the college described her allegations as \"vague\" and said other agencies such as her GP and social services had failed. The college's legal team also wrote to Miss Fawcett saying: \"We do not accept that our client's alleged failure to report to social services your uneasiness with McClelland or the text messages which he allegedly sent you, resulted in abuse taking place.  \"The abuse would have occurred anyway,\" they said. \"This is clearly a very sad matter,\" lawyers concluded. \"We accept that you want to find retribution, and that you wish to hold to account the adults who, you say, failed to protect you as a child... but consider that your allegations against [the college] are misplaced.\" Elite swimming club to close after damning reportSchool 'ghost children' storing up trouble says MPI won't let my abusive dad win any more, says Scott Eventually in 2020, the college's insurers settled out of court - without an admission of liability - and paid Miss Fawcett an undisclosed sum.  In response to questions from the BBC, the college said its investigation had \"found no grounds to support the suggestion that the college could have done anything differently at the time\". \"The college was desperately saddened to hear about the terrible abuse that Kim Fawcett had suffered, and carefully and thoroughly investigated her complaint as soon as it was received,\" it added. Miss Fawcett described her dealings with the college as akin to gaslighting and said she felt de-humanised.  \"I felt that the school's approach was that if a child was displaying signs of distress, it was because the child was weak or somehow defective,\" she said. In recent years she has built a network with fellow survivors and said a document produced by her friend, design researcher Sophia Luu, which details how people can find the strength to speak out about abuse, could be a lifeline for many. \"I try and tell myself, with the MeToo movement and so much work going on around women's rights, that things are changing,\" Miss Fawcett said. \"But institutions still exist that protect these people and that's devastating. \"There are still children who are lost and alone out there and have no-one to turn to.\" Follow BBC West Midlands on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Send your story ideas to: newsonline.westmidlands@bbc.co.uk",
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        "label": 1,
        "text": "=== Union blockade ===By early 1861, General Winfield Scott had devised the Anaconda Plan to win the war with as little bloodshed as possible, which called for blockading the Confederacy and slowly suffocating the South to surrender\n Burnside was soon defeated at the Battle of Fredericksburg on December 13, 1862, when more than 12,000 Union soldiers were killed or wounded during repeated futile frontal assaults against Marye's Heights\n\n",
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        "text": "Court orders to protect domestic violence victims from their attackers are \"not worth the paper they're written on\", the BBC has been told. Survivors have called for tougher measures, including electronic tagging, saying a lack of enforcement means orders provide little deterrent. BBC analysis of government data showed prosecutions for breaching some orders have fallen by 40% in recent years. Senior police officers have apologised, saying: \"We want to do better\". Victoria, not her real name, was forced to move counties to get away from her violent ex-husband. During their six-year marriage she was isolated from her family and friends and subjected to physical attacks, one of which led to a miscarriage, she said. At one point, she was \"only eating three digestive biscuits a day\" to try to fulfil her husband's idea of what her body shape should be. When she finally left him in 2016, she had three non-molestation orders (NMOs) put in place consecutively. But, she said, the orders were \"absolutely pointless\" with her abuser repeatedly turning up at her house. \"It took a lot of courage to leave him. I had to uproot my life and move. I shouldn't have to do that, I should be protected,\" she said. \"There's been no support from any professionals and police didn't take the orders seriously.\" Victoria said when her ex appeared in court after being arrested for a breach he was told by the judge not to do it again and freed. That set the tone for a string of breaches, which went unpunished, she said. Restraining, non-molestation, and occupation orders are all civil orders designed to protect victims from their abusers. It is a criminal offence to breach the terms of these orders. A domestic violence protection notice (DVPN) is issued by police to provide immediate protection while police officers apply to the magistrates for a domestic violence protection order (DVPO). However, a breach of a DVPN or a DVPO is a civil rather than a criminal offence. When granted by a court, terms can include bans like stopping an offender contacting a person or being within a certain distance of their home or workplace. The Home Office is set introduce a two-year pilot scheme for a civil Domestic Abuse Protection Order in 2023, to replace the DVPN and DVPO in a bid to \"provide longer-term protection for victims\", the government said. Under the scheme, electronic monitoring or tagging could be imposed to monitor a perpetrator in complying with certain terms of the order. Kath, also not her real name, left her husband following nine years of physical and coercive abuse and has had an NMO in place since December, which he breached, she says. \"That non-molestation order isn't worth the paper it's written on,\" she said. \"It don't make any difference whatsoever because it's certainly not made him stay away.\" She also cited a lengthy wait for legal aid funding as one of the obstacles in obtaining the order promptly. Deborah Jones, from Barnsley, who set up support group Resolute to help survivors, said the orders were failing victims because there was \"no deterrent at all for a perpetrator to breach them numerous times, over and over again\".  \"They get clever and very aware of the legal system,\" she said. \"They know that there's no real consequences to breaching them. \"Things need to change. There needs to be tougher consequences if an order is breached, perpetrators should be tagged.\" According to data gathered by the BBC, figures from the HM Inspectorate of Constabulary and Fire and Rescue Services and the Ministry of Justice show: About a quarter of DVPOs issued have been breached every financial year between 2018/19 and 2020/21.Convictions for breaching domestic violence-related NMOs have dropped by 7% in the last five years, despite the number granted rising by 48% in the same period.There has been a year-on-year drop in prosecutions, convictions and sentences for breaches of restraining orders between 2017 and 2021. The Independent Domestic Abuse Services (IDAS) charity said many survivors felt breaches \"are not acted upon\", which in in turn undermined their confidence in the police and prevented further breaches from being reported. IDAS's Carmel Offord said a 2018 review led by the charity found the way authorities worked left \"significant safeguarding black holes\". The charity has been working alongside North Yorkshire Police on a pilot scheme, which allows officers to record orders centrally on the police national database and access relevant details when breaches occur, says Ms Offord. \"I think it really comes down to everybody working in collaboration with the safeguarding of victims, survivors and their children at the heart,\" she said.  \"We can't just assume that a perpetrator isn't high risk because there isn't violence or they haven't done something that we would deem to be risky.\" Emma, not her real name, said she was subjected to \"seven years of absolute cruelty and torment\" by her ex-husband. She had a DVPO and then an NMO put in place from 2017 but, she says, he repeatedly breached them. She said \"nothing was done\" when she reported the breaches to police and he even rented a flat as close as he could get to her home without breaking the terms of the NMO. \"My ex-husband had made threats to kill me,\" the mother-of-two said. \"I was just constantly looking over my shoulder all the time. \"Pulling into a car park, if his van or car was there, I would have to drive away. Just constantly living like that. \"We were just petrified, fearing for our lives. We didn't feel safe whatsoever. We were just waiting for something to happen.\" The National Police Chiefs' Council (NPCC) lead for domestic abuse, Louisa Rolfe, said she was sorry that victims \"have not had a service they should expect and deserve from policing so far\".  \"But we are working on this. It is a priority, and we want to get so much better at it,\" she added. Ms Rolfe, an assistant commissioner with the Metropolitan Police, said forces were using DVPOs effectively and a domestic abuse training programme meant officers nationally were being equipped to understand and \"identify high-risk behaviour\". Breaches required a multi-agency approach, including the Crown Prosecution Service, she said. \"We want to support victims. We want to ensure their safety. This is a huge priority for policing, and we are really clear that we expect officers to take positive action.\" If you've been affected by the issues raised in this report, details of organisations offering information and support are available via BBC Action Line. However, the Centre for Women's Justice (CWJ) said they had seen little improvement from UK forces following recommendations it had put forward since lodging a super-complaint in April 2019. The action addressed alleged failings by police in their use of protective measures to safeguard victims and was subsequently upheld by three policing bodies.  The charity has asked Domestic Abuse Commissioner Nicole Jacobs to approach all police and crime commissioners (PCC) to hold forces to account. Ms Jacobs said she was \"very concerned about poor enforcement of protective orders\". The CWJ is also calling for improved data gathering around breaches. When the BBC submitted freedom of information (FOI) requests to all 46 UK police constabularies, of the 34 who provided data each responded with differing or partial information. The NPCC said the use of different IT systems by police forces meant collating statistics was a \"challenge\" but added that there was a \"move to a more digital justice system\". Nogah Ofer, a solicitor at the CWJ, said there was also a lack of \"measurable outcomes\" and police training on domestic abuse did not include protection orders. \"It's not really apologies that we're looking for,\" she said. \"We're just looking for improvements on the ground and for victims to get a better service.\"",
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        "label": 1,
        "text": "==== Uncrewed ====Uncrewed spaceflights to the ISS are made primarily to deliver cargo, however several Russian modules have also docked to the outpost following uncrewed launches\n== Construction ===== Manufacturing ===Since the International Space Station is a multi-national collaborative project, the components for in-orbit assembly were manufactured in various countries around the world\n\n",
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        "text": "Yordanos Brhane was 15 years old when she fled Eritrea, crossing Africa and Europe in the hope of finding a better life and re-uniting with her family. Years later, the long and difficult journey brought her to the UK, where she was fatally stabbed just months after settling. Yordanos's sister has spoken about how a young woman's dream of security ended in tragedy.  Deeply religious and with a flair for languages, Yordanos Brhane had just started to build a life for herself in Birmingham. She, along with six of her siblings, left Eritrea, one of Africa's poorest countries and one where people regularly flee political persecution and forced conscription.  \"Yordanos was a very quiet girl, she was polite, courteous, she was on the quiet side rather than very active,\" Kisanet Brhane said of her younger sister. \"She was happy, she was learning the language very quickly, she was very good with languages. She had made friends from Eritrea and I sensed she was settling in nicely.\" Her family, when they came to the shared house in Unett Street after her death, found she had joined the city's library and had got herself a provisional driving licence. She had also found herself a job, helping out at a nearby shop where her manager, Sogi Omrani, said she was a beautiful and honest person who was always happy and smiling and all about helping her family. \"She was a nice worker. She had only been here a short amount of time but she talked so nicely. She was very good at English,\" he said. \"All our customers, when they heard she had died, they were crying. I cried too, it was very bad.\" Kisanet was seven years older than her sister, but the two had a close bond. 'Obsessed' killer jailed for stabbing teen refugee \"From the day that she left Eritrea until two days before she died, every day we were in contact, we were very close and every day I was speaking to her.  \"The last two days of her life I hadn't spoken to her.\" Kisanet lives in Norway, having left Eritrea in 2014, aged 19. Since moving there, she has studied, worked in care homes and recently gave birth. Her own journey, which took her through the African countries of Ethiopia, Sudan, Libya and then the European countries of Italy, Germany, Sweden and Norway, took her a year. Became independent from Ethiopia in 1993 but is plagued by repression at home and tense relations with its neighboursBordered by Sudan, Ethiopia and Djibouti, it occupies a strategically important area in the Horn of AfricaEritrea is a one-party state and a highly-militarised society, which the government has sought to justify by citing the threat of war with EthiopiaProlonged periods of conflict and severe drought have adversely affected Eritrea's agricultural economy and it remains one of the poorest countries in AfricaBy UN estimates, hundreds of thousands of Eritreans have fled the country in recent years, making the perilous journey across the Sahara and the Mediterranean to Europe Source: BBC Monitoring \"The journey was very, very difficult, especially when crossing the Sahara Desert in Libya, it was the toughest, it was very, very tough, its not easy at all - you risk your life to go through this journey,\" she said. In March 2017, aged 15, Yordanos began the same arduous journey. Her journey was similar to her sister's but took longer. She was in Libya for seven month where, her sister says, it was a miracle she got out alive. \"She didn't have a good time there it was very, very dangerous, very bad, she experienced really bad things,\" she said. Yordanos and her fellow travellers slept on floors in warehouses, among hundreds of people, with no privacy, a scarce amount of food and no access to medication or sanitary hygiene, she said. The threat of violence and rape was always prevalent. Kisanet believes it was only because by then Yordanos was so weak and ill she was not assaulted. By the time Yordanos got into Europe, she was very ill indeed, arriving into Italy on a stretcher. She had been rescued by the authorities after the boat she came across on, via smugglers, stopped working in the middle of the ocean. \"Her illness was mainly due to malnourishment and very bad scabies infections in her skin which had given her a fever. She had bad problems with her chest, her heart was beating very hard,\" Kisanet said. \"She was really weak by the time she arrived in Italy. We didn't find out straight away she was in Italy - two weeks later we found out she was in hospital where she was getting treatments to get her energy back and help her survive.\" But as she was being given treatment to get her better, other problems were about to begin. Yordanos managed to make it to Norway where she was allowed to spend time with Kisanet as well as living in a camp. However, while going through the process it was discovered she had been 'fingerprinted' in Italy.  According to regulations, the first country an asylum seeker enters is ultimately responsible for the individual's asylum application. In effect, officials could tell her first EU country of entry was Italy and could be the one she would be returned to. And that is what happened - the authorities in Norway decided to return her to Italy. The sisters were shocked. \"She had been really happy, she was in a safe environment where human right is protected,\" Kisanet said. \"She was really serious about her education and she improved her language so well. I have lived here two years ahead of her, I couldn't speak better than her. \"She was really optimistic about life and she didn't expect to be sent back to Italy.\" The news was hard for them both to take in. \"Especially as her age, she was only 16, I was older than her, I could have taken care of her, I was her family, her sister. What they did was wrong. She was only 16. To be separated from her family at that age.\" Yordanos was taken back to Italy within the week, leaving the family with little chance to appeal. After a few days living rough and begging for food, she made the journey to Belgium and made contact with the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR), which, because of her age, picked up her case and began to argue she should be able to return to Norway.  Norway accepted her return, while her case was being resolved, and again she stayed with her brother, who lived in a different part of Norway, and also in a camp. \"After three months the charity gave her the letter to take to police to say she is back from Italy and she has this letter to say she should have her case looked at properly,\" Kisanet said. \"But the police put her in prison for two months. They would not let her go. They said they did not accept it and that she should go back to Italy. She was forced to return to Italy. \"It was the same situation, she was left to fend for herself at such a young age. It was very distressing for her.\" Her lawyer in Norway, Andre Mokkelgjerd, said the Dublin Regulation, which regulates which country is responsible for processing an asylum application, does have discretionary clauses which made it possible for Norway to consider allowing her to remain - particularly as she was a vulnerable young woman alone in Europe with family in Norway. \"Unfortunately, our arguments along these lines were not given decisive weight, and the general rules were applied strictly as they often are in these cases,\" he said. Yordanos went back to Belgium, living rough, for seven months; although Kisanet says she did get help from some Belgian charities. And when she eventually made it to the UK, on the back of a lorry, the charity workers stayed in contact. \"They were really nice, very close to Yordanos, and they were happy she came to a safe country. They came to visit her twice,\" Kisanet said. After a year in the UK, Yordanos was granted to leave to remain with refugee status. She was 18 when she arrived. The family found out she had died through social media.  \"I didn't know what happened, it was my sister who contacted me, she had seen something on Instagram. \"She said 'what am I hearing - have you spoken to Yordanos?' and I said 'no I haven't spoken to her for two days, what happened?'\" Kisanet and her husband were able to contact some of Yordanos's friends. They heard Yordanos was no longer alive, there had been an accident. They later had to come over to the UK to identify the body. \"With the shock of the news, we quickly arranged for three siblings including myself to come to the UK to identify the body.  \"When we arrived, there were a lot of Eritrean community helping us out. They prepared accommodation where we could stay and they were very helpful to us,\" she said. She was unable to make the journey for Yordanos's killer's court case. Halefom Weldeyohannes, from Sheffield, has been jailed for at least 21 years for her murder. But the family said 21 years was not enough. Yordanos's older brother Gezae Birhane Kibedom said: \"I am not happy, Yordanos was a nice girl. He hurt my sister, he took a life, it's not enough.\" He had been in contact with Yordanos three days before she died. She told him she had started to learn to drive and also her plans for the future. \"She wanted to go back to school, she wanted to become a doctor or a nurse and then ultimately she wanted to go back to Eritrea where, depending on the government, she would try to help our family and other young people. \"Yordanos was so young but old for her age.\" Additional reporting by Allen Cook Follow BBC West Midlands on Facebook, on Twitter, and sign up for local news updates direct to your phone.",
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        "label": 1,
        "text": "The University of Tokyo (\u6771\u4eac\u5927\u5b66, T\u014dky\u014d daigaku), abbreviated as Todai (\u6771\u5927, T\u014ddai) or UTokyo, is a public research university located in Bunky\u014d, Tokyo, Japan\n Since 1943, the Tokyo Metropolitan Government has administered the prefecture's 23 special wards (formerly Tokyo City), various commuter towns and suburbs in its western area, and two outlying island chains known as the Tokyo Islands\n\n",
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        "text": "In a once-neglected corner of east London, a shiny new town has been born.    Historically scarred by deprivation, this part of Stratford, in the borough of Newham, is now home to financiers, lawyers and creatives.   East Village, as it's been branded, oozes with prosperity. It's Instagrammable. Its postcode, E20, is London's \"hippest\", according to its owner, Get Living. Just outside the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park - the home of the 2012 Olympics - spartan accommodation blocks first built to house competing athletes are now hot property.  Having been converted into flats in 2013, people began to make their homes here. Row after row of 60-odd almost identical mid-rise apartment blocks stretch from the aptly named Victory Parade to the north, and Anthems Way and Celebration Avenue to the east.  A street lined with independent cafes and bars overlooks Victory Park, which dazzles with cherry blossom in the spring and is strewn with picnic rugs in the summer.   \"It has a nice villagey feel, it's very neighbourly. Yeah, we love it here,\" says Fawn Hudgens, who rents a two-bedroom flat with her baby daughter and her partner, who runs a digital marketing company.  \"Everything's on your doorstep, so it's very easy.\"  London Olympics ten years on: Residents \"betrayed\" by broken housing promiseLondon Olympics ten years on: What have we learnt?London Olympics: What happened to the Carpenters Estate? In East Village, you can be at one with nature by taking a wetlands walk, tuck into some posh grub from the upmarket deli or gelateria, or indulge in the high fashion on offer at the nearby Westfield shopping centre.   Perhaps more desirable still are the transport links offered by the newly opened Elizabeth line and Stratford International station, which have fast lines to the rest of the capital and beyond.   A calendar of events including a weekly street food market, summer fete, book clubs, homework clubs, and fitness classes create opportunities for the 7,000 villagers to mix.   \"Over time you start getting to know people, especially if you have kids; there's lots of stuff going on,\" said Ms Hudgens. \"And it's easy to make friends through that.  \"I've got mum friends in the neighbourhood now, which is fantastic.\"  This new neighbourhood even has its own village hall where Ms Hudgens takes her daughter to mother and baby groups.   East Village has sprouted from seeds sown in the early 2000s, when plans were made to revitalise parts of east London left behind by redevelopment of London's Docklands in the 1980s and 90s.  When the Olympics came to town, this site became a key focus for regeneration as part of a lasting legacy of the 2012 Games. Central to that was the idea it would deliver thousands of new homes.  That, it has done - there are 3,800 new homes here with more to follow.  But East Village is more than bricks and mortar - it is a large community built from scratch, says Get Living's chief executive officer Rick de Blaby.  \"It was amazing vision and foresight to think you could do it on this scale,\" he said, \"because no-one had really done it before.\"  What is happening here, he says, is \"placemaking\". According to Mr de Blaby, \"we don't have to ourselves build the community, we create the stage on which the people who live here build their own community\".  The \"stage\" includes free kids' football coaching sponsored by Get Living. The company has also forgone retail rent by creating a low-cost community workspace, the E20 Lab, in one of its units.   It's all part of vision to \"really create an environment in which people genuinely put down roots and thrive\", he said.  It may not be organic, but, Mr de Blaby says, \"it's becoming organic\".  But while Get Living curates many aspects of life here, it says its tenants are increasingly forming independent social groups. Dog-walkers, nature lovers, and LGBTQ+ residents are said to be bonding over common ground.  However, most people who call East Village home haven't made long-term commitments to stay here. This is, in the main, a rental scheme, and the average length of tenure is 22 months, according to Get Living.  The company, a partnership between real estate investment and advisory firm Delancy and Qatari Diar - the investment arm of Qatar's ruling family - bought the site from the UK government in 2011, and later promised to \"transform the way Londoners rent\".  \"You would hear resident refrains around insecurity of tenure, and big fees and security deposits and poor repairs, and the distant landlord and lots of intermediaries, and the rest of it that wasn't working for renters,\" Mr de Blaby says.  \"So the vision was to really disrupt that and give people a much better experience. And we've largely done that.\" Get Living says it offers renters three-year tenancies, charges no fees, provides free broadband, allows residents to keep pets and to redecorate.   What's more, tenants are no longer required to pay large security deposits. That really turned heads, he says.  For Mr de Blaby, East Village is a \"build-to-rent\" success story. \"It was an enterprising call to be able to do it. And, you know, it's come off brilliantly.\"  The company, backed by pension funds, has just launched its latest builds, offering modern high-rise living across 524 flats. At 26 and 31 storeys high, the two new towers soar into the sky.   As well as \"stunning\" apartments, the blocks have a cinema room, built-in wine dispensers, and an elevated \"sky bridge\", which is a \"leafy oasis of wellness\".  These follow the arrival of the Victory Plaza in 2019 - 481 luxury flats spread across two imposing skyscrapers, which transformed the landscape of East Village, a previously mid-rise scheme.  Here, tenants enjoy exclusive rooftop gardens, \"high-spec\" Danish-designed interiors, faster broadband than their mid-rise neighbours, and \"spectacular views\" from floor-to-ceiling windows. Creative types can take to the painting studio for a spot of art, while gardening tools are laid on for green-fingered residents in the communal potting shed.  It does, of course, all come at a price.  A studio flat in Portlands Place will set you back \u00a31,885 a month, while you'll need \u00a34,100 a month to rent a four-bedroom family home here.  A two-bedroom flat in the former athletes' blocks can cost upwards of \u00a32,300 a month, while three-bedroom flats here are available for \u00a32,700 a month.  Residents 'betrayed' over Olympics housing pledge For Ms Hudgens, cost could be a deciding factor in whether she and her family put down roots here. \"We'd love to stay in the neighbourhood, but I don't think it is long term. And a lot of people feel the same way. I know a lot of people are saying, 'If we want to have a bigger family, we need to move out a little further.'\"  She believes the cost of living in East Village has created an exclusive neighbourhood that doesn't feel like the rest of Stratford, a historically deprived area.  \"There's a definite divide. You can see that, you know, some people have been left behind on the other side of the railway bridge.  \"Normal people have been priced out of this area. I know. It was very much promised to be, you know, a place for people who are from Stratford. And that hasn't happened. Which is a shame.\"  An NHS worker living in East Village who gave his name as Steve told BBC London: \"It's not inclusive at all.  \"It is full of young professionals, lots of tech. Lots of students that have some other funds coming from somewhere; I think they call it 'bank of mum and dad'. \"I think a lot of people are priced out of rentals.\"  However, there is more to the East Village story than the luxury of the top of Victory Plaza.  The East Village has delivered 675 social homes that have gone to families on the council housing list - this is more social housing than any other residential scheme to spring up as part of the 2012 Olympics legacy. A further 48 social homes are under construction. These are among the 1,379 homes in the affordable housing stock, managed by leaseholder Triathlon Homes, a joint public and private sector venture.  Some are rented out at about 20% lower than the market rate and many are offered as part of a shared ownership deal. This has enabled people such as Nigel Godfrey, who runs a theatre company, to take their first step on to the property ladder.  \"That was helpful for financial reasons, because theatre is not particularly well paid,\" said Mr Godfrey, who initially bought a 50% share in his flat, but has gradually increased that share to 100%.  \"It meant I could live in London, it meant I could afford to have two bedrooms, which I needed for my family circumstances. And it meant that I was secure for a while:  as long as I could keep paying my mortgage, I wasn't going to get turfed out by my landlord, as had happened multiple times over the preceding 10, 15 years.\"  Mr Godfrey, who was one of the first people to move into East Village, added that while \"it's a good place to live\", it isn't the tight-knit community it started out as.  \"At the beginning, when there was a tiny group of us, lots of people got to know each other. And that was good.\" But he said that \"now it feels more like a normal part of London\", because the village has grown. In the coming years, East Village is to expand further. Two more large towers will bring another 850 flats on to the rental market.  Get Living hopes to develop a third tower of 520 student rooms and an exhibition space, to bring young creatives to live at East Village while they study at a campus planned by the London College of Fashion. And, Mr de Blaby hopes, that by creating the \"right environment\" for these people, they might stay for good.   \"We've really gone on a mission to make this a hub for creative enterprise,\" he said.  Follow BBC London on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Send your story ideas to hellobbclondon@bbc.co.uk",
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        "label": 1,
        "text": " Wood's character could not handle the sexuality and after a breakdown was committed to a mental institution\n That month, Manson filed a lawsuit against Wood for defamation, intentional infliction of emotional distress, violations of the California Comprehensive Computer Data Access and Fraud Act, as well as the impersonation of an FBI agent and falsifying federal documents\n\n",
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        "text": "The provision of affordable housing in some of the poorest parts of London after the 2012 Olympics has fallen far short of pledges made, the BBC has found. There was a promise to regenerate areas of east London for the \"direct benefit\" of residents - a key feature in the capital's bid to host the Games.  Originally, 9,000 homes were to be built on the former Olympic Park, half of them affordable for local people.  But fewer than 200 new homes built are offered at the cheapest levels of rent.  A decade on from the Games, which cost \u00a39bn to host, about 1,200 homes have been built on the site, most of which, it is claimed, are unattainable for many people in the area.  The planning authority responsible for development on the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park and surrounding areas, the London Legacy Development Corporation (LLDC), said affordable housing targets had changed with different mayoralties. It also said many political decisions on housing provision in the area pre-dated its formation. The promises have \"melted away\", said Nick Sharman, who until recently sat on the LLDC's planning committee. \"They have been betrayed, no question about it.\" In 2005, \"the deal was very clear\" when London's first directly elected mayor Ken Livingstone championed the Olympics coming to the capital, said Mr Sharman, who was at the time in charge of regeneration at the London Development Agency.   \"He [Mr Livingstone] said: 'This is going to be the regeneration Olympics' - in other words, it's going to have a real legacy for the people of east London.\"  The official bid to host the Games, which was led by London 2012 chair Lord Coe, said that \"the most enduring legacy of the Olympics will be the regeneration of an entire community for the direct benefit of everyone who lives there\".  At the time, the area had some of the most deprived council wards in England. At the heart of Mr Livingstone's legacy pledge was that 50% of any housing built would be affordable, said Mr Sharman.  Mr Sharman added that it was \"those commitments that really inspired the enthusiasm, I think, of the Olympic Committee, but certainly the wider population\". Mr Livingstone told the BBC that had he not lost the London mayoralty to Boris Johnson, he would have ensured the 50% affordable housing pledge was kept. The legacy of the London 2012 OlympicsWhat is the definition of affordable housing? Ten years after the Games, the former Olympic Park in Stratford and its surroundings are the focus of a vast regeneration programme, led by the LLDC.  \"Instead of being the diverse community that Ken Livingstone promised, a model of social inclusion, we're getting the exact reverse,\" said Mr Sharman. On the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, where many of the events were held in 2012, just under 1,200 homes have been built. Only 37% of these are officially classed as affordable, rather than the promised 50%. Chobham Manor, a development of 880 homes next to the Lee Valley Velo Park, is an \"incredible new neighbourhood\", according to developer Taylor Wimpey.   It includes 169 social and affordable rent (low-cost) homes. However, a third of units classed as affordable are offered as shared-ownership properties. This is a scheme that aims to make it \"possible for first-time buyers and families to get on to the property ladder\", according to the housing association managing the homes. Recently, 25% shares in two and three-bedroom flats were advertised. These homes required a minimum income of \u00a369,000 a year to buy - well over twice the \u00a329,000 median annual salary for residents of Newham. Of the homes currently on the park under the banner of \"affordable\", 57% are \"intermediate\" - either offered as shared ownership, or for rent at about 75% of the market rate.  However, according to masterplan for the park in 2011, only 40% of the affordable housing stock should have been intermediate, while 60% was supposed to have been made up of social or low-cost rental homes.  It's \"gentrification\", says Rudy Smith, who has spent much of her life in Newham. She and her three-year-old son are among the 33,000 households on the council's housing list.  \"It looks like we're generating wealth, helping the community, but actually you're not helping the community.  \"It's a fa\u00e7ade,\" added Ms Smith, who with her son is among about 5,700 families that have been placed in temporary accommodation by Newham Council.  They live in a \"tiny\" flat in which they share a bed, she said.   \"It's not even suitable for me if I was a single person, let alone as someone with a child.\"  Rudy says she is worried the council might only be able to offer her a permanent home away from the area.  \"I know someone personally, they've had to move to Clacton-on-Sea. Her family is in Newham and partly in Hackney. She's the only one down there in Clacton-on-Sea, you know, so it's a reality for some people and I hope it doesn't have to be an actual reality for me.\"  Like Ms Smith, Godfrey Muhoozi, a father of two from Stratford, cannot afford to rent a home privately. He says he has been on Newham Council's housing list for four years.  \"It's a nightmare,\" he said. His family currently lives in a two-bedroom flat, with his teenage daughter and teenage son sharing a bedroom.  \"It's not good, them being the age they are, especially for my daughter. \"I thought about trying to set up a partition in the room so they have some privacy, but even that is very expensive and I can't afford it.\"  Mr Muhoozi and Ms Smith are among 70,000 people on council housing lists across the four hosting boroughs of the 2012 Olympics  - Newham, Tower Hamlets, Hackney and Waltham Forest.  \"It is really quite shocking,\" according to academic and east London housing expert Dr Penny Bernstock. She has interviewed families living in \"terrible\" conditions near the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park. \"It's the most extreme housing misery you can imagine - you know, people living in damp, miserable accommodation with a lack of light; children moving multiple times.\"  It was addressing the \"misery\" of historically impoverished east London that was central to the Olympic bid, Dr Bernstock said.  \"We have built mainly market housing in an area of acute housing need. This is particularly problematic, given that addressing deprivation, including housing deprivation, was a key dimension of  London's bid.\" The concept of affordable housing on the former Olympic Park was always \"slippery\" in any case, according to Dr Bernstock. \"We're building too many intermediate units and not enough social rented units. And so the people that are going to benefit are not going to be the average people living in the area, they're going to be wealthier people from outside.\" Dr Bernstock, who is from east London, said the former Olympic Park now has parallels with Canary Wharf, a financial and residential district in the historically deprived borough of Tower Hamlets. \"You've got this wealth in the middle and you've got the poverty around, and that poverty scenario has not changed,\" she said.  However, Dr Bernstock added that she believed there had been some recent improvements in terms of affordable housing provision on the park. The LLDC said all such homes on the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park had so far gone to local people.  By 2035, a total of 5,426 homes are scheduled to have been built on the former Olympic Park, according to the LLDC, rather than the 9,000 originally proposed.   The residential ambitions were altered 2014, when plans were made for the East Bank quarter. This will see branches of the V&A museum, Sadler's Wells theatre, the BBC and the London College of Fashion arrive in Stratford in the coming years. The LLDC said it believed this would be of more long-term benefit to the area than additional homes. However, according to Dr Bernstock, this approach \"compromised\" any affordable housing plans.   Instead of the 2,600 homes originally planned for one site on the park, 600 homes will be built, and the Stratford Waterfront development will consist only of shared-ownership flats.  \"This is 0% affordable housing,\" said Dr Bernstock. A formal legal agreement on such housing as part of the legacy of the 2012 Olympics should have been made before the Games, she added.  When all the housing schemes on the park have been completed, 40% will be classed as affordable, including a mixture of tenures, the LLDC said.  The planning authority, set up by Boris Johnson when he was London's mayor to develop the area post-Olympics, has overseen the construction of about 11,500 new homes since 2012, including those in the park itself. Despite 2012 City Hall guidance that 40% of legacy homes should be affordable, the LLDC said only 24% of them were, with 12% being categorised as low-cost.  The legacy scheme to deliver the most social housing so far is the East Village in Stratford.  Triathlon Homes manages 675 social homes on the site, which originally housed Olympic athletes and was later converted into flats. A further 48 social homes are under construction there. While this is welcomed, it should however be balanced against the previous loss of low-cost housing in the area, according to Dr Piero Corcillo, an urban regeneration expert at Birkbeck University, who completed a PhD on social mixing at East Village. \"We also need to consider that in order to build the Olympic Park, a social housing estate, the Clays Lane Estate, was demolished and that provided 425 housing units,\" he said.  Of the 3,800 homes on the site, the majority are offered at market-rate rent by property company Get Living, which says it \"looks to respond to the acute need for new homes in central London\". Two-bedroom flats in the East Village can be rented out for upwards of \u00a32,300 a month. Built with public money, the site was to have been 50% affordable housing, according to plans drawn up several years before the Games.  \"This hasn't been delivered,\" said Dr Corcillo, who added that \"there's no mechanism to bring decision-makers to account\".  The development is not socially inclusive, he said, and is instead \"definitely geared towards the middle classes, and the better-off fraction of the working class\". When the East Village development is complete, 30% of the homes will be affordable, according to Get Living, which says it has fulfilled its affordable housing obligations. Elsewhere, large developments have sprung up in parts of Stratford such as Chobham Farm, as well as in Hackney Wick, Fish Island and Bromley-by-Bow.  Mr Sharman, who was until recently a Hackney councillor, said he believed his area had been transformed into a \"middle-class barracks\".  Many of the new homes are attracting affluent couples from outside the area, he said, adding: \"When they start having more than one child, almost certainly they will move out. \"I think what comes hardest is that we put so much money into the Olympics, made it a great Games, a fantastically inclusive Games; the legacy of that money has been simply to benefit this narrow band of people. And it didn't have to be that way.\" Mr Sharman believes what has happened is a \"microcosm\" of a wider housing problem in the capital: \"The London housing market is not catering for Londoners.\"  The LLDC has to cope with a \"fatally flawed\" model, as it inherited the debt for hosting the Games, he believes. It has, Mr Sharman says, an \"impossible job\".  \"They were charged with developing the area, and maximising the land value of it, in order to repay the loans and the subsidies,\" he said. \"So they had two things that are in contradiction, and you can't be both gamekeeper and poacher.  \"And that is the fundamental problem.\"  The LLDC expects some 33,000 homes to be built by 2036 in its planning area, with a target of 35% affordable housing It said schemes must be viable for developers and that it wanted to maximise both affordable housing and the returns from the sitesIt said that provision of affordable and social housing was limited by government funding and that it was the government that defines what affordable housing isThe LLDC says it has and continues to deliver subsidised homesThe government said the legacy of the Olympics was managed by the LLDC and that it had provided \u00a34bn to the Greater London Authority directly, to deliver genuinely affordable housing for communities Follow BBC London on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Send your story ideas to hellobbclondon@bbc.co.uk",
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        "label": 1,
        "text": " In February 2016, Hernandez reached a settlement with Bradley over the lawsuit\n While on trial for Lloyd's murder, Hernandez was also indicted for the 2012 double homicide of Daniel de Abreu and Safiro Furtado; he was acquitted after a 2017 trial\n\n",
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        "text": "For 40 years, the disappearance of Brenda Venables had been a mystery in the rural Worcestershire village where she had lived. Finally, her family have some answers after her husband - who was living a double life with his mistress - was found guilty of her murder. Brenda Bolton was 23 when she met the man who would become her husband at a young farmers event in Worcestershire.  Both from rural communities, they connected straight away. She was kind, unassuming and \"good company\", David Venables would later tell the jury on his murder trial.  They \"just got on well together\", he added. After that first meeting at Droitwich Winter Gardens, Mr Venables juggled his time seeing her at her home in the tiny village of Rushock, with work on his family's pig farm. He would stop in for breakfast on the way home from dawn trips taking produce from the farm to Birmingham wholesale market. They married in June 1960, before a honeymoon in Jersey, and later moved in together at Quaking House Farm in Kempsey. Mr Venables' father had given him the land to build their marital home, which the couple moved into a year later.  There, Mr Venables farmed pigs and the pair enjoyed a \"magnificent view\" of the surrounding countryside. To outsiders, their life seemed simple yet idyllic. But on 3 May, 1982, Brenda Venables vanished.  Mr Venables reported it to police the following day.  The previous day, he said, had been perfectly normal, with them sowing potatoes. His wife had also \"seemed to be enjoying playing with the puppy\" on the hearth rug and he noticed nothing unusual in her mood that evening, or after they went to bed. \"I just woke up to find she had gone,\" he told a journalist from the Worcester Evening News. \"She has never done anything like this before and I haven't the faintest idea what has happened to her.\" He said he had been \"unable to sleep\" since she went missing, adding that his wife had been suffering from depression as a result of a recent bout of flu. The village of Kempsey was soon overrun as the search for Mrs Venables got under way. West Mercia Police used a helicopter to aid with the search and tracker dogs checked farm buildings and derelict properties, but no trace of her was found.  Vicky Jennings, a friend of the couple, later recounted Mr Venables \"did not seem overly concerned\", and \"didn't appear to be actively searching for his wife\". David Harrison, now a councillor on Malvern Hills District Council, ran the Farmer's Arms pub on Bestmans Lane in Kempsey at the time. \"Everybody was surprised, it is the same with any person that goes missing, it becomes the talk of the village,\" he said. \"There was lots of speculation and lots of things put forward and lots of rumours.\" A police search, he said, lasted two or three weeks, covering a four or five-mile area around Kempsey up to the M50 motorway, including his own nine acres of land.  \"[There was] a great deal of police, coming round searching everywhere to see if there was anything anywhere that would lead to finding her,\" he said. \"They cut back all the growth on the ditches to see if there was anything in the ditches.\" For almost 40 years, Mrs Venables' family was left without a single answer about what happened to her. Until July 2019, when human remains were found in a septic tank in the grounds of Quaking House Farm. The new owners of the farm - Mr Venables had moved out in 2014 - wanted the tank serviced.  To the horror of engineer Alistair Pitt, he found a \"large clump of hair\" before uncovering a human skull.  A pelvis and thigh bones were also recovered - although it was impossible to determine cause of death. Remnants of clothing including half a pair of knickers, a pair of tights, a bra, remains of some shoes and a sweater were also in the tank. At the time of the discovery, a search was ongoing just seven miles away for estate agent Suzy Lamplugh, who disappeared in London in 1986. A site near Pershore had been identified after new information arose following a search the previous year of a property in Sutton Coldfield, which once belonged to the mother of prime suspect John Cannan. But police said there was no link between the remains and Miss Lamplugh. It took more than a year until detectives announced the bones had formally been identified as those of Mrs Venables, and her husband, who was then 88, was charged with her murder. At his trial, details of his double life were revealed, as prosecutors told how he had been in a long-term on-off relationship with his mother's carer Lorraine Styles since around 1967. But even though Mrs Styles had died in 2017, a statement she had given to police in 1984 after Mrs Venables had disappeared was read to the court.  She said the day after he reported his wife missing to police he had telephoned her. \"He seemed quite composed and suddenly told me his wife had disappeared the night before and he was phoning to let me know before I read it in the paper,\" her statement said. \"He called round about two weeks later but didn't mention it. \"I couldn't understand how he was so calm about the whole episode.\" Prosecutor Michael Burrows QC told jurors he wanted Mrs Venables \"out of the way\". \"He wanted to resume his long-standing affair with another woman,\" he said.  \"He knew about the septic tank in its secluded location. It was for him almost the perfect hiding place. \"And for nearly 40 years, it was the perfect place and he got away with murder.\" West Mercia Police constable Peter Sharrock, who was among the search teams, told the hearing how the septic tank was apparently overlooked during the initial searches. \"At the time, it just looked like a pad of concrete and I didn't pay it any attention,\" he said. \"The word is hindsight, really.\" Mr Burrows had said it was \"beyond belief\" that Mrs Venables took her own life by climbing into the septic tank and \"somehow\" shifted the heavy lid and put it back in place above her \"so that there was no sign of any disturbance\". He also said it was \"preposterous to suppose\" Mrs Venables walked out of their house that night and was confronted by someone outside the house. Giving his evidence, Venables told how he regretted his affair. He also claimed he and his wife's relationship remained sexual and that they continued to share a bed until she vanished. But the court heard evidence from notes made by Mrs Venables' consultant psychiatrist, who she was seeing for treatment for depression in March 1982, saying the couple had not slept together since 1968 and had not shared a bed for three years. In police interviews, Venables even claimed murderer Fred West could have been responsible for killing his spouse. But jurors rejected his claims of innocence and convicted him of Mrs Venables' murder.  Following his conviction, the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) said few people knew about the \"very secluded\" septic tank in 1982, and only two people had emptied the tank, Mr Venables and another worker who said it had been difficult to access. As such, the CPS added, it was its case that if anybody else had been responsible for Mrs Venables' death, they would not have known about the tank as a way of concealing her body and it was \"unbelievable\" she may have been killed somewhere else and her body returned home. Her family have said her disappearance had \"devastated\" them.  \"She was kind and caring and has been greatly missed,\" they said.  \"We, her surviving family, are thankful that Brenda was found and that we were able to lay her to rest with her parents in a place of security, calm and dignity.\" Marian Walters, who was a friend of Mr Venables' brother, said the trial puts an end to decades of angst. \"Nobody could imagine what it must have been like for the family, you know it can bring closure to all members of the family,\" she said. \"Until the news broke three years ago, you know it's been lying dormant really.  \"The family can hopefully - it won't be easy - but they can move on, they can move forward.\" Follow BBC West Midlands on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Send your story ideas to: newsonline.westmidlands@bbc.co.uk",
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        "label": 1,
        "text": "Downtown casinos that have undergone major renovations and revitalization in recent years include the Golden Nugget Las Vegas, The D Las Vegas (formerly Fitzgerald's), the Downtown Grand Las Vegas (formerly Lady Luck), the El Cortez Hotel & Casino, and the Plaza Hotel & Casino\n\" The former restaurant, retail and arcade area was redesigned into the Studio Walk, an area resembling a Hollywood sound stage and featuring various restaurants and shops\n\n",
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        "text": "The view, from the top of a condemned tower block in east London, was to die for. Lund Point, on the Carpenters Estate in Stratford, was our window to the spectacle of London 2012 - a superb vantage point overlooking the Olympic stadium. The tower was the hub of an ambitious BBC broadcasting operation. Some flats were still occupied by residents, others were converted into TV and radio studios, newsrooms, broadcast galleries, and even a canteen.  But it was about much more than sport. For several heady weeks this is where all the news came from, too. The BBC's flagship six and ten o'clock news programmes were broadcast from here - 57 live bulletins in all. And then, on Sunday 9 September 2012, the late BBC news wrapped up with a montage of the best Olympic moments, and it was over. For broadcasters, viewers and athletes, it was the conclusion of a glorious sporting summer. But for those who had lived here it signalled the imminent demolition of their homes - and the prospect of indefinite dislocation. But a decade later, it's as if time stopped. The tower still stands. The Carpenters Estate is a short walk from what's now called the London Stadium and the other venues created at the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park. This is the landscape reclaimed at a cost of billions of pounds, transforming its grimy industrial past into its current state of throbbing with construction activity. Housing, university blocks and a cultural quarter are taking shape. Yet the Carpenters Estate has been passed by. Its shoddiness is highlighted by the new steel and glass towers that surround it - but from which it is completely disconnected. Is that surprising? It's not as if some didn't predict it. In 2012, as the Games began, Warren Lubin lived on the 20th floor of Lund Point. During the Olympics he was interviewed by the Evening Standard. He told the paper: \"Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the Olympics and the thrill of bumping into the likes of George Alagiah, Huw Edwards, Riz Lateef in the lift on the way to my flat, but the reality is that in a few weeks the Games will be over and what we will be left with is a disgraceful situation of people being forced out of their homes.\" A decade on, like the tower, Mr Lubin's home - a one-bedroom flat at the top of Lund Point - is unchanged. He is the only council tenant left. He's not alone in the building, but almost. In a block of 121 flats, fewer than 10 are occupied. The other residents are people renting privately from leaseholders who bought their homes.  \"Nothing has happened. Absolutely nothing at all. It's shocking and embarrassing. \"It's been strange. Weirdly, I am used to it now. I like the quiet. But there's been no upkeep and all these flats which could have been used are empty.\" The estate and community were left in limbo when, in the mid-2000s, Newham council started moving tenants from this block and its high-rise siblings, Dennison Point and James Riley Point.  Together they were the landmarks framing the estate's identity and skyline. They were a little dilapidated, and in need of some tender loving care. But, say residents, there was nothing wrong at their heart. Solid concrete. Structurally sound. Soon nearly 400 flats had been emptied, the estate drained of almost half its population and the community hollowed out. It was a wrong, unlawful decanting process, claims Mr Lubin, because there were no firm plans to redevelop before it happened. He says if more tenants had known their rights, they, like him, would have stayed. Mr Lubin's theory is rejected by Sir Robin Wales, the former mayor of Newham, who set the process in motion, He said he was clear in his plan to knock down and completely redevelop the estate.  \"We were going to build thousands of new homes, both here and elsewhere in the borough. If you want housing, you have to develop. We had a plan.  \"Sometimes people don't want to listen.\" It led to today's situation, where the buildings remain but people are few and far between. The lights have been kept on, the electricity and water remain connected, basic maintenance has been done, and since 2017 - after the Grenfell fire - wardens and security guards have been on duty round the clock in each block. \"It's costing the council huge amounts to keep them running even though there are only a few of us here,\" said Mr Lubin. Newham Council refused to tell the BBC just how much, but once you factor in the loss of rent and council tax, and the cost of housing the estate's former tenants elsewhere, the bill could be tens of millions of pounds. In the 23-storey Dennison Point, the 11th floor has several boarded-up flats, and one with a door and a protective metal grille. It is home to 79-year-old June Benn. She was one of the first tenants to move in when the estate was completed in the late 1960s and is one of only a dozen residents left in this block. She says many residents didn't want to leave but were forced out. But she is a leaseholder and she wouldn't budge. Ms Benn accepts it is a strange existence. \"The place has gone downhill. I used to know everyone. Now I don't see anyone. But why would I want to leave? I have told them I am comfortable here and am staying. \"My family don't like me being here because I am on my own and I am isolated but as far as I am concerned I will stay unless I am offered something suitable, which has to be near here. \"They made me an offer a few years ago to get me out but it wasn't enough to buy a garden shed.\" There are two groups in this story about a community frozen in time: those who stayed and those who left. Among those who left were Pat Hamid and her husband Abdul who were decanted from Dennison Point in 2011, a few months before the Olympics. They had lived there for 29 years. Mrs Hamid said: \"There was nothing wrong with our flat. Big rooms, nice kitchen. I was on the fifth floor. But they told us they had plans to redo it all.\" The couple were moved to a sheltered housing block on the other side of Stratford called Holden Point. The Hamids were unfamiliar with their new location.  \"I never knew anything about this end of Stratford. I had only known my area around the Carpenters,\" said Mrs Hamid. Although they did not want to leave Lund Point, they were reassured because it was guaranteed they could come back - a \"right to return\" when the estate was rebuilt. As it does, real life intervened. Mr Hamid became unwell.  By the time he died in 2020 they had given up any thoughts of returning, had settled in their sheltered block with wardens who could be summoned for help at the press of a buzzer. Mrs Hamid is shocked her old block has not been knocked down and no regeneration work has even begun. \"Of course it's good you've got council tenancies for people who need housing but at the end of the day they seem to think you are a commodity. They think 'if we want to do something we'll do it'. \"But they haven't done anything. That's the problem. Why were we moved? Older tenants like me won't go back now. Of course not.\" She's heard the latest plans are for a redevelopment that could take at least 15 years to complete. \"In 15 years I will be older than 100. Maybe I can go back and haunt it.\" Residents say this has been a terrible failure of legacy.  It is a story of protest and politics, suspicion and distrust. But most of all, inactivity. Aidan White, founder of the online newspaper Newham Voices, said: \"It's been a wasted decade. There's a huge sense of a loss of a community. They really do feel that loss.\" The Carpenters became a tasty piece of real estate the moment the Olympics came into view. When the Games were awarded to London in 2005, land values started rising.  This site, perfectly situated just a short walk from the centre of Stratford, was of considerable interest to developers. There was to be a huge new shopping centre and the Stratford international rail station was being completed. Progress was heavy going, though, stalled by residents suspicious of the mayor's intentions who had fears of gentrification, being priced out and forced away. Or as Sir Robin puts it: \"That's what you get with the hard left, when the 'rent-a-Trots' get involved.  If you oppose development, you're opposing housing. \"I am careful to make a distinction here. I absolutely sympathise, I did absolutely sympathise with the people who didn't want to move. \"But against that I wanted to create thousands more homes and most importantly jobs too. There has to be a balance.\"  In 2009, plans were drawn up by the estate's tenants group. It involved some demolition but retained the basic character of the estate. Those plans were rejected. In 2013, a proposal by University College London to create a new campus was withdrawn after noisy protests from tenants backed by some of its own students and lecturers. It is now building in the Olympic park itself. Two years later a group of single mothers occupied a low-rise block on the estate in a protest campaign highlighting the lack of affordable housing in east London.  Newham, one of London's poorest boroughs with more than 25,000 people on the housing waiting list, was getting a bad reputation. The object of growing hostility, Sir Robin threw the dice again, producing plans involving a joint venture with a developer or housing association.  He continues to defends his efforts. \"If I had still been there, we would have been building long ago. We would have had spades in the ground.\" Then in 2018 events took an unexpected turn, the consequence of local Labour infighting, and the machinations of politics in Newham. After 16 years as mayor, Sir Robin was overthrown by a fellow Newham councillor, Rokhsana Fiaz, voted in by a huge influx to the local party of supporters of Jeremy Corbyn and the Momentum activist movement that backed him. She stood on a platform which included a new approach to housing, though Sir Robin said the Carpenters debacle did not have an impact. \"Not a jot,\" he says.  His successor said she opposed demolition of the Carpenters, and pledged more affordable homes and engagement to make it a \"community-led\" regeneration project. However, over the first four years of her mayoralty, progress was painfully slow as she tore up her predecessor's policies but struggled to come up with her own. Finally, last December a fresh masterplan for the estate was produced and put to a ballot.   It suggests tripling the number of homes to more than 2,000, with half at social rent levels and a large proportion of the rest for private sale.  As things stand now, two of the three tower blocks condemned by Sir Robin will survive. Of the 345 people who took part, 252 voted \"yes\" - a 73% share.  This process brought further controversy. Some raised questions, including the protest groups which also opposed Sir Robin's plans, and the Greens' Sian Berry, chair of the London Assembly's housing committee. \"It's hard to explain what happened,\" says Pauline Clarke, landlady of the Carpenters Arms pub which sits in the shadow of Lund Point.  \"Everyone I spoke to said they voted 'no'. You can't find people who wanted this.\" The explanation may actually be simple. The tenants who moved from the estate years previously and still retained the right to return were also given a vote. And they had nothing to lose by voting in favour - and the possibility of returning to a refurbished estate In Stratford, although with no obligation to do so. For Ms Fiaz it heralded a breakthrough just before she sought re-election this month. At last, the first tentative steps had been made towards an Olympic housing legacy. She also took a swipe at her Labour predecessor: \"After years of false promises and the failures of the past, I am over the moon that residents on the Carpenters Estate, including those who have a right to return, have decisively voted to support this people-powered masterplan.\" For Aidan White, of Newham Voices, it was the result of a \"fantastic amount of fatigue\". \"People just to want to move on. There's a feeling of resignation that this is now the only option. If the council is saying 'it's this way or no way', there's not much you can do about that.\" For some it feels like the last resort. \"We are just desperate to see some life restored to the place,\" said Adeel Nauyeck.  \"It's been a joke. We've been completely ignored and the estate has been allowed to decline.\" Mr Nauyeck, a former chef, has lived here for 30 years. In 2012 he moved, with his mother, wife and three boys, from a flat in Dennison Point into a four-bedroom house at the heart of the estate. An estate that he's watched crumbling bit by bit. He believes one of the reasons there's been so little progress is tension between the council tenants, like him, and the leaseholders who have different priorities.  \"When Stratford got the Games, suddenly there were leaflets coming through people's doors, telling them the value of their homes had gone up and how much they would get if they wanted to rent them out. A lot of leaseholders took the opportunity and rented them out and moved away. That led to this becoming a rental market with a regular turnover of tenants. \"The estate never settled. There was no longer a community.\" His children went to the local primary school and are now at one of the new academies created on the Olympic Park. Their friends are in the area and Mr Nauyeck is determined to stay here. But for others, there is uncertainty and anguish they feel is undeserved. The bulldozers are coming after all. Dennison Point and most of the low-rise blocks and houses are to be demolished. Joan Hunnibale, 84, moved into her three-bedroom house back in 1969 and purchased it under right-to-buy in the 1980s. It is now due for demolition. She wants clarity about when it will happen. \"It's just been allowed to deteriorate here. You can run down a place for so long. In the end, people get fed up and agree to go,\" she said. Doreen Ward, 87, is far less stoic. She lives in a four-bedroom house with a garden she loves in a street she says is \"the nicest on the whole estate\". She is determined to live out her days in the home she has been in for more than half a century. \"People try and interest you in somewhere smaller and more suitable. But I tell them I don't want to do that when I've got 16 members of my family coming for Christmas dinner. \"I can walk to the shops from here. It's so convenient. I've got a sister in Billericay, and one who's ill in Herne Bay. I don't drive but it's so easy for me to get there by train.\" She has objected to every proposal for the estate so far, and voted against this latest one. \"You get the feeling they want to make it so ugly and unliveable that eventually they get their own way and flatten it all,\" she said. Mr Lubin \"reluctantly\" voted in favour of the plans. He is not happy with the prospect of the amount of housing tripling. \"Something has to happen. If the vote was 'no' what would that mean? Would it mean another 10 years of doing nothing?\" Under Ms Fiaz, there is seemingly a more optimistic face to the impending upheaval. The estate's green spaces are being spruced up and the street railings painted. There is a community drop-in called The Dovetail, inside which is a model of the plans for the estate. There are yoga sessions, art classes and other activities. Updates on the plans and messages from the mayor are posted on a bright and cheerful website and in a regular newsletter. Will these plans survive the upcoming upheaval? The viability of building affordable housing tends to depend on how much cash can be raised from building homes for private sale on a development site.  That income subsidises the affordability, enabling more flats at social rent. The question is how the council makes the sums add up - and how long this drags out the regeneration. The local authority has set up its own housing company to deliver the project, which will be exposed to the same risks as any developer: economic downturn, rising inflation and interest rates, spiralling energy costs. Advice in council papers is clear that the initial pledges on timescale, design and the mix of tenure could change. Nothing is set in stone. Mr Lubin has just learned, via a newsletter, that refurbishment of Lund Point will not be completed until 2026. Work is due to start this autumn, with the refurbishment of James Riley Point. Over the past few years, the cost of renewing this one block has been steadily rising. It is now estimated at \u00a335m. Another big impediment for the council is four families, leaseholders who still live in the block. They will need to be bought out - and moved out - before the renovation can start. For well over a decade, they have been the only occupants in a block of 130 flats. Some children have spent all their lives calling this home. Now they are feeling the pressure to move - with the progress of the whole redevelopment laid at their door. Negotiations are taking place to try to avert compulsory purchases, which would be even more costly and time consuming. There is now only one shop on the estate, next door to The Dovetail, the centre of community engagement. The proprietors do not know when to expect demolition, or whether they will be offered new premises. With footfall so greatly reduced, business has been poor over the past, lost decade.  But an unlikely saviour has emerged, clad in claret and blue: West Ham United fans. They stream through the estate on their way to matches at the London Stadium, which the club now leases, stopping for drinks and snacks.  It is an economic upside to weigh against the complaints of some residents that fans urinate in their gardens. The Carpenters Arms, as the pub closest to the stadium, is now very much a Hammers' local, packed out on match days. West Ham's prolonged run in the Europa League, reaching the semi-final, meant extra paydays - but landlady Pauline Clarke is another who has no idea how long she's got here. Hours before each match she and her staff erect fencing around the pub, and there is a heavy presence of security guards to prevent trouble with rival fans. The state of paralysis which has gripped the Carpenters Estate has made it a curiosity for academics. Masters dissertations are freely available to read, addressing various different themes.  Pupils from a nearby secondary school visit, filling out questionnaires on the streetscape and urban environment, as their teacher reminds them to be careful about the noise and to \"remember people live here\". Those people would of course rather be studied as an exemplar of what the Olympic Games can do to transform communities. But nearly a quarter of a century will have passed since those heady days of London 2012 - and all the promises of transforming the fortunes of people in east London - by the time regeneration work here is completed.  Jamie Jensen, a former member of the neighbourhood forum, said: \"If back in 2009 Newham had done what they now propose, rather than leaving the estate vacant for the past 10-plus years, hundreds of people could have spent the past decade living in decent homes.\"  Sir Robin said he was \"in despair\" at the lack of housing.  \"We would have built. We had a great opportunity and the people who have paid the price are those who haven't got homes.\" He won't criticise Ms Fiaz by name, but said: \"In the end, whoever is running the council has to take responsibility for this.\" Mr Lubin believes hundreds of lives have been affected for the worse. \"This was a chance to come up with a model Olympic regeneration everyone could point to and be proud of. \"Instead, what have we got?\" At least the view, from the top of a previously condemned tower block in east London, is still to die for.",
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        "label": 1,
        "text": " A common practice by film studios is to give highly anticipated and critically acclaimed films a limited release on or before December 31 in Los Angeles County, California, to qualify for Academy Award nominations (as by its rules)\n Titanic (1997) was 195 minutes long, prompting some cinemas to add a short mid-film break or to screen it without commercials for health and safety reasons\n\n",
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        "text": "How would you feel if your child, or one you knew, was taken into care and ended up living in a B&B, a hostel, or even slept rough? What I'm talking about here is \"the care system\", the safety net we'd rely on if we couldn't look after our kids. I've been working on a BBC documentary which has found teenagers are still being placed in B&Bs and hostels - six years after the Welsh government said it wanted to \"eliminate\" it. Some of the stories have shocked me. With record numbers of children being taken into care in Wales and England, I've spoken to some young people who have been through the care system in an hour-long documentary, filmed over nearly three years, I've helped make for the BBC. \u2018Abuse, assault, profit\u2019 - childcare staff speak outHuge profits made from children's care - report'It's hard to parent when you're the grandparent' My question is: does the care system always \"care\" for children who can't stay with mum or dad? \"I know for a fact prison would have been better than where I was placed,\" Niall told my BBC Wales Investigates 'Lifting the lid on the care system' documentary. He says he grew up moving in and out of care between the age of 14 and 18 - and after a place in a children's home broke down just as he turned 17, he was placed in a B&B. \"People moved there that had just come out of prison and stuff,\" Niall added. \"So I got robbed a couple of times in there. You'd see people kicking down doors on a daily basis, there'd be people smashing windows, people carrying knives.\" Niall told me he was then moved into what he describes as a hostel, although his council insists it was supported housing as they tried to find him somewhere permanent to live. \"I was woken up by a punch basically,\" he recalled about one incident.  \"So I had to start barricading my door which, obviously, they got through eventually. It was like they put all the troubled teenagers under one roof.\" The people in charge of Niall's care said they made every effort to find him somewhere else to stay and that his case was not straightforward, but Caerphilly council did not comment on the threats and violence. Hope was taken into care at 14 but ran away after her foster placement broke down when she was 16. \"I was a child in a tent with an adult who was over the age of 18, sleeping rough, where nobody knew where I was,\" Hope, now in her early 20s, told me. \"I was technically a child of the state. It wasn't OK... I was at risk.\" Those responsible for Hope's care said it could not comment on individual cases but Wrexham council said its services had been transformed and it would use Hope's comments to improve things further. In 2016, I presented a petition to the Welsh government to end the practice of children being placed in B&Bs and hostels. Ministers said they wanted to \"eliminate\" it - but six years on, it's still happening. Research by the BBC Wales Investigates team suggests dozens of teenagers like Niall and Hope are still being put in that position.  Freedom of information requests to all councils in Wales showed at least 50 young people were placed in B&Bs, hostels and budget hotels in the past financial year, with at least 285 in other accommodation which is not regulated by the care watchdog. I don't want this to come across as an attack on social workers - because it's not. It is their job to look after these young people but they're working within a system that is, according to one report last year by those in charge of social services, facing a \"crisis\" to find suitable places for children to stay. While most children placed in such temporary accommodation are 16 or 17, our investigation found a small number are even younger. One example included an 11-year-old being housed in temporary accommodation with council staff, because there was nowhere else for them to go. SAM SMITH PRESENTS STORIES OF HIV: From Terrence Higgins to todayLIFTING THE LID ON THE CARE SYSTEM: A shocking insight into the lives of young people in care Gemma - not her real name - felt she was let down by the system that was supposed to keep her safe. She says she was exploited by older men when she was young before eventually being taken into care at 14, when she had become addicted to heroin. \"I'd moved house 12 times by the time I was 15,\" she said. \"I've never fully unpacked anywhere. Nobody ever keeps me very long anyway.\" Leaving care: 'I fell through the cracks'Almost 100,000 children could be in care by 2025Austerity blamed for children in care rise When she was 16 she was offered a hostel to stay in by social workers, which she said had a drug dealer staying there. \"I'd just spent nine months getting clean,\" Gemma said.  \"They then placed me in this hostel where he was anyway. I was there less than a week before I was back on drugs.\" After meeting Gemma and hearing all she'd been through, I broke down because what she had experienced and what she told me was just devastating. No child should have to live that life. My personal view is that we shouldn't tolerate that some young people just disappear and the worst possible things imaginable happen to them. Children who, from the beginning and often through no choice of their own, find themselves in circumstances that already makes things harder for them than it does for anyone else. People in social care tell you those are the children who are most likely to end up homeless, most likely to end up with mental health issues, with alcohol and drug dependency issues and even being sexually abused. The group that represents Wales' 22 local authorities said councils in Wales were \"committed to doing their best in responding to the growing demands and increasingly complex challenges in children's social care\". The Welsh Local Government Association said it regretted the standard of care and support it wanted to achieve has not been met in everyone's case, and that it was keen to learn from young people's experiences. It also believes there is a need for additional funding to help children and families earlier, and that wider societal issues such as access to health services and ending child poverty are not things children's social care can solve alone. When I challenged Wales' deputy minister for social services on her government's record, she told me that while the majority of children in the care system grow up in loving families, she accepts that a minority of children do not have the experiences she would want them to have. \"What we really want to do is put as much support as we possibly can to parents and children at an earlier age, and stop so many numbers coming into care,\" said Julie Morgan MS.  \"Crises do happen, placements break down, families break down... and the children have to be put somewhere... we don't accept that that should be the situation and we're trying to do things to stop that.\" She added there were plans for new specialist accommodation for children with complex needs across Wales and the government was investing more in foster care and providing support for those leaving care. \"We have got it at the top of our agenda here in Wales... which doesn't mean that things don't go wrong,\" Ms Morgan added. \"To hear these tales from young people - and that I've heard so many times - that break your heart, you think how could this have happened? \"I absolutely accept that, but we're doing our utmost to make sure that every young person in Wales has, you know, a happy fulfilling life.\" In England and Scotland, there has just been an independent review of the children's care system which called for earlier help for families too. Those in charge of social services departments there have long called for a \"system overhaul\" to address all sorts of issues  The UK government said it had already banned under-16s staying in places that aren't inspected by the watchdog and will respond with more detailed plans later this year. But for everything the politicians are putting forward, based on what you'll see if you watch my BBC documentary, I wonder if you would be happy for the current care system to look after your child if you weren't around. If not, then don't we all need to consider whether that safety net - and the people who work within it - is being treated with the priority it deserves? Because if we continue to let these people down and continue to get this wrong, surely the consequences don't bear thinking about. Don't we feel we owe it to them - and society as whole - to sort this out? Michael Sheen: Lifting the lid on the care system is on BBC iPlayer now and on BBC One Wales at 21:00 Tuesday 5 July If you have been affected by any of the issues in this story, the BBC Action Line has links to organisations which can offer support and advice",
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        "text": "== Production ===== Conception and writing ===\"Left Behind\" was written by The Last of Us series co-creator Neil Druckmann and directed by Liza Johnson\nIn 2015, Est\u00e9e Lauder signed model Kendall Jenner to promote the brand\n\n",
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        "text": "You may have heard the name and might know his legacy, but perhaps don't know who Terrence Higgins really was. He was a charismatic, fun-loving guy, loved by his group of close friends, yet it was only after his death that his name became known the world over. Few know of his unique \"wiggle legs\" dance, the astrology book he wrote and that his sexuality was behind his move to the city where he could be himself. Terry, as he was known, became famous for how he died, but he also lived. His name is now synonymous with the fight against HIV and Aids, because Terry was the first named person in the UK to die of an Aids-related illness. Sam Smith's HIV stories podcast starts with Terrence Higgins' life'My story helped inspire hit TV show It's A Sin''By 25, I'd lost 50 friends to Aids'  No-one had heard of the virus HIV when he passed away aged just 37 at London's St Thomas hospital on 4 July 1982 - and very few people had heard of him. But those close friends who knew him so well were determined to not only change that, but also change the way the world dealt with an illness few then knew much about. Superstars and royalty now regularly support the charity that immortalises a man whose death became the unfortunate catalyst for medical research and subsequent treatment that now ensures the illness that ended Terry's life is no longer considered a death sentence. Within 10 years of Terry's death, proceeds of two musical anthems - Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody and Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me by Elton John and George Michael - were donated to the Terrence Higgins Trust. It's gestures and support like this, alongside work to help people with HIV and promote good sexual health, that has helped the organisation that carries Terry's name become a world-leading HIV charity. The journey began just before the end of World War Two, in June 1945 in west Wales. Terrence Lionel Seymour Higgins was born at the old Priory Mount workhouse in the market town of Haverfordwest, Pembrokeshire, to Marjorie - Terry's dad wasn't on his birth certificate. It was in the town's dance halls as a teenager, that school friend Angela Preston remembers him. \"He would say to me and my friend 'come on girls, up you get', and he'd jive with two of us at the same time,\" she told BBC Sounds A Positive Life podcast, narrated by singer Sam Smith. \"He was brilliant. I can see him coming down the high street now and his trousers would be flapping. He had a dancer's walk. They have that airiness, that floating movement.  \"To me, he was just Terry who I danced with on a Saturday night. \"He had this air about him, he wasn't repressed, he got on with life and seemed to enjoy everything he did - and by heck he had a lovely smile. He was a lovely boy. \"It was only when he died that I found out that he was gay. I was quite shocked because I didn't have an inkling.\" SAM SMITH PRESENTS STORIES OF HIV: From Terrence Higgins to todayBORN DEAF, RAISED HEARING: What it means to live in two different worlds When Terry was growing up in the 1950s, gay sex between men was illegal and you could be sent to prison. These laws only began to change in 1967 - even then only partially. \"We'd play out in a field which was part of the council estate and occasionally Terry would come down,\" said Billy Yabsley, a neighbour who lived on Terry's street Priory Avenue. \"I was, say 10 and he was 14. He wasn't really a mixer. It was very rare that Terry came out. \"We were rough and ready kids, cricket one minute and football the next, then falling out and fighting - but Terry never got involved with any of that, he was a quiet boy. \"I used to go to market hall and they'd turn it into a dance room and I can remember him dancing, he was out of this world. We were like farmers in boots but when he danced, he was light like a ballerina and used to sway his body.\" Terry also used to play the piano and Bill remembered \"he was a very talented boy\" who was a decent schoolboy athlete at the strict Haverfordwest Grammar Boys School, where he won the senior long-jump competition in the late 1950s. Terry started life in west Wales at a time when coming out as gay to friends or family could be considered a risky choice as attitudes towards homosexuality were different. \"I would have thought it would have been dreadfully difficult because there was such a stigma attached,\" Angela added. After finishing school in the early 60s, Terry left Haverfordwest to join the Royal Navy and lost contact with his old school friends - but not before donating his books and stationery to the school library.  \"We would often get visits from Terry when he was in the navy,\" said Terry's cousin Annie Oakley, who now lives in Australia. \"I thought he was so handsome because he had very dark hair and had creases in his trousers because of how they used to fold them over when they were in the navy.  \"My earliest memory was when he came to visit us and he was in the front garden, swinging us around... and letting us dance on his feet because he was always dancing.\" As far as Annie knows Terry - an only child - never came out to his family, but he did not completely hide his life from them.  \"When I was about 14, I stayed at auntie Marj's and Terry was visiting and he had a friend,\" she recalled. \"It never occurred to me that he had sexual preferences and she said 'can you take this cup of tea up to Terry and his friend'.  \"I walked in the bedroom and there were these two males in bed, Terry and his friend, and I just said 'here's a cup of tea'. I was oblivious.\" Terry returned to his home-town occasionally to see his mum before she died in 1974. HIV diagnosis at 16 was like 'a wake-up call''You can't catch HIV from hugging me''My HIV got my daughter kicked out of school' \"He didn't talk about his family much,\" said Linda Payan, one of Terry's few close friends from his life in London to return to Haverfordwest with him. \"His mother was a female version of Terry, you could see they were mother and son. Great fun and she had similar humour to Terry.  \"She could be cutting and he could be quite rude to her, but she'd be rude back. They'd have that kind of relationship. It wasn't really close but they enjoyed each other's company.\" Linda said she imagined Marjorie knew her son was gay because she once went back to Terry's childhood home with him and his then boyfriend - but \"nothing was said\". \"She'd have kept that silent, it was a different time and wasn't an accepted thing,\" added Linda. \"It was very taboo.\" Terry had, by this time, made London his home where he'd enjoy dancing to disco music and felt free to live how he wanted - which could sometimes be like a wheeler-dealer. \"Terry was either with money or without money,\" added Linda, who first met Terry in a Wimpy fast-food restaurant after a night out in 1969. \"When he was without money, I'd see more of him because he'd have jewellery to sell. He'd say 'can you give me some money for them?' and it'd be a fiver or a tenner for all this silver. \"But he was very kind. Whenever he had any money, it was for everyone.\" Terry worked for newspapers and wrote for Hansard, the official report of every parliamentary debate in the House of Commons - meaning he worked in the place that had made his sexuality a crime. \"He was a bit paranoid about being found out to be gay,\" recalled Linda. \"Once he said 'I've got some people from work coming over for dinner, could you pretend to be my wife?' So I did.\" Terry, a Gemini, had an interest in astrology and wrote a book on the subject called The Living Zodiac and he loved socialising. \"I used to call him wiggle legs,\" added Linda. \"He had these wiggly legs when he danced and it always made me laugh... his legs never seemed to part but his knees were together. \"Life was so exciting for him, he was always looking for new adventures and was very funny.  \"I said to him 'you're either going to be very famous or end up on a park bench'. He laughed his head off on that one. But Terry did become famous.\" It was in the gay clubs where Terry became friends with Rupert Whitaker and Martyn Butler - two men who would ensure the name Terrence Higgins would one day become famous around the globe. \"I liked him because he looked out and cared for people,\" said Martyn, who was 20 years younger than Terry. \"If you were misbehaving, he'd tell you off. He was a bit motherly like that.\" Rupert was 18 when he started a relationship with Terry and was enamoured with his streetwise nature in a time where their community felt marginalised. \"He didn't care about anything, he was completely unselfconscious,\" said Rupert. \"He had a very healthy attitude of scepticism towards any pretentiousness. \"I thought he was just gorgeous. This was the era of the clones... very short cropped hair, big moustache, strong five o'clock shadow, plaid shirts, tight jeans and builder's boots. \"It was a hyper masculine look and I completely fell for it.\" They all became a \"family\" in a community in London that already felt on the outside - and it was about to get even more tough. Both had HIV when they met, but neither were to know.  While no-one knew it yet, the wave of this epidemic was about to hit. Within 18 months of their first meeting at Bangs nightclub on London's Tottenham Court Road, Terry had died. \"He never really talked about it,\" Rupert recalled. \"It was like he was a very passive witness to his own deterioration.\" In the spring of 1982, Terry's illness became much more serious and he collapsed in London's Heaven nightclub and was rushed to hospital. Game-changer: 'I didn't know HIV drug existed''I had death threats after posting about my HIV''We were all Aids deniers - then it got real' \"Only family could visit,\" said Rupert. \"I said 'he doesn't have any family, I'm his boyfriend' so the nurses were cool with that, but the physicians didn't talk to me. 'Gay cancer' \"At the time, a gay newspaper ran this report... about what was then gay cancer and pneumonia. We had an idea that this thing was in America but nobody had any idea it was in Europe.  \"I was pretty sure that's what Terry had. He'd gone downhill so quickly.\" Rupert had been celebrating independence day with some American friends on 4 July 1982 when he popped in with some \"ice lollies, Lucozade and Tizer\" to see Terry. Those drinks remained undrunk. Terry died that evening. \"I knew very much that I had loved him - but I didn't know if he'd loved me,\" Rupert admitted. \"I had to ask a couple of his friends and they looked at me as though I was crazy because they said 'oh yeah, very, very much'. \"Just before he died, apparently he was calling out for me. It's a real regret that I was late. \"The impact that had on me for the rest of my life has been incredible - it changed my life. And hopefully I've done useful with it to help somebody else.\" At the time, doctors were unsure how to diagnose or treat the new illness while there was fear within the community and wider public as to what this condition was. Within weeks of Terry's funeral, a group of pals who had nowhere to channel their grief and wanted to help fight this unknown illness formed a trust in Martyn's front room in Limehouse in East London. \"I had this sense that I'm expected to be dead already,\" recalled Rupert.  \"I am expected to die. I expect myself to do die. What do I do? Do I just sit around and wait for this to happen or do I actually do something with the time I've got.\" Personalising the trust in Terry's memory, they thought that would give their cause greater impact. The Terrence Higgins Trust has since helped thousands and provided sexual health services like HIV testing, making it one of the world's oldest and leading HIV and Aids charities.  If you have been affected by any of the issues in this story, the BBC Action Line has links to organisations which can offer support and advice",
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        "text": "\"You've Seen Him In The Green Mile, Now Hear Michael Clarke Duncan Speak With Eddie & Jobo\"\n His generosity and fatherly affection for Macbeth make his murder even more appalling\n\n",
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        "text": "A teacher who found her daily tipple had turned into three bottles of wine is one of the increasing numbers of professionals seeking help for addiction. During the pandemic, rehab and recovery services said they saw an increase in white-collar workers turning to them for support. BBC News spoke to the people who have received treatment and those trying to break the cycle of addiction. \"I couldn't cope for a day without alcohol,\" says Sally Cusworth. \"The harder I found my job, the worse it got.\" The 46-year-old former teacher from Leeds had always enjoyed a glass of wine or two but she noticed her social habit had become a daily distraction. \"The more I got promoted, the more pressure I was under regarding Ofsted. And it's that building-up of anxiety that I really struggled with,\" she said. \"I drank throughout my career, but I was trying to control and monitor it.\" Ms Cusworth's alcoholism spiralled into self-destruction when she took sick leave in 2019.  She became physically dependent on alcohol, eventually being diagnosed with stage four fibrosis of the liver and near to death. The former secondary school head of department was caught up in a daily cycle of buying bottles of wine as she headed home from work, only to \"drink in isolation\". \"I was slowly committing suicide really. It's a slow suicide on the sofa.\" Ms Cusworth was among the 3,500 people who accessed addiction charity Forward Leeds' service during the first year of the pandemic. Entering rehab in June 2020, she thought it was \"for down-and-outs, kind of like criminals\" but two years on and she is now working with charities to help others.  Photos of her past are a pertinent reminder that \"I don't have that choice to drink alcohol because that's where I will go back to\". Ruth Bradford, from Forward Leeds, said alongside alcohol, cannabis, cocaine and ketamine users were contributing to the \"substantial rise in individuals needing support\".  Meanwhile in Doncaster, staff at Aspire Drug & Alcohol Services said referrals to their centre in the city had increased by more than 200% over the past two years, with demand from white-collar workers \"going up\". Aspire chief executive Tim Young said: \"There's still high demand for our services despite people going back in the office after the pandemic. \"What we're seeing is people who wouldn't normally come to our service, so we're working with employers across all industries.\" For former sales executive Neil Firbank, a sense of purpose, hope and acceptance are the underlying principles of recovery. Mr Firbank's recreational use of cannabis, MDMA and amphetamine developed into a heroin addiction after a conscious decision to try the opiate.  His urge for a 'hit' resulted in him \"turning up at my dealer's house, still wearing my suit\" straight from work. He eventually lost his job, home and family as his dependency on the drug spiralled out of control. The 46-year-old now supports others to get back on track at Aspire, where he was treated more than 20 years ago. Rehabilitation service UK Addiction Treatment (UKAT), which runs residential centres in England, said 65% of all admissions to its eight facilities last year were middle class users. Nuno Albuquerque, a senior treatment consultant at UKAT, said almost two thirds of the 3,507 people admitted for treatment in 2021 were professionals, ranging from teachers to managing directors and CEOs in industries such as finance and healthcare. In 2020, half of the 2,872 referrals were from white-collar professions, he said.  Forward Leeds and fellow addiction charity We Are With You painted similar pictures in Leeds and Lincoln.  Shaaron Jackson, from Guiseley, West Yorkshire, says she has been an alcoholic for \"most of my life\" with her addiction stemming from childhood trauma. The 54-year-old former actress says recognising the issue is the hardest step in getting help. \"I think it's because still, even now, we see it as a failing. We see it as a weakness and that's how it's still viewed by society. \"I think that's why this kind of misuse is going on behind closed doors. People are afraid to talk openly about it. \"In recovery, we have very honest conversations. But then, if you go out into the rest of society, it becomes difficult.\" Ms Jackson was drinking \"two litre-bottles of vodka a day\" before the death of her mother and a suicide attempt sparked her wake-up call in 2020. Latest government figures show 275,896 adults were using drug and alcohol services between April 2020 and March 2021, compared to 270,705 the previous year. However, there was a drop in those entering treatment with 130,490 in the pandemic period of 2020-2021 down from 132,124 in 2019-2020. The view from the ground suggests the opposite. Mr Firbank said: \"On average 40 new people approach us each week for issues with both drugs and alcohol, more than double the numbers presenting pre-pandemic.\"  The pandemic has also changed how people are able to access addiction support. Ruth Bradford from Forward Leeds said they had \"had to adapt.\" \"We're being very much more flexible to the needs of the individuals who come to our service.  \"When they're on their lunch break we can have a telephone or a Zoom intervention with them, and we know that it's been as effective as having these face-to-face consultations. \"It's helped them to engage more with us and complete their treatment journeys.\"   While the move to digital support services has encouraged user numbers, the stigma of people accessing support still exists, says Dan Hunt, a community engagement coordinator at the We Are With You charity. \"There's a lot of work still to be done around drug and alcohol and I think we've got to start treating it as a health condition. \"There's such a stigma attached to drug and alcohol services about a specific type of people accessing them, that people are afraid to come in or seek the help because they don't feel they belong to that same group of individuals.\" Ms Jackson backed this view up saying: \"People view addiction [as though] it's somebody on the streets begging or they look dishevelled and they think, 'that's the face of addiction'. Actually it's not. \"Addiction doesn't discriminate, that's the thing. It's not just poor people who are living on the breadline, it goes right to the very top.\"  If you, or someone you know, have been affected by the issues covered in this article the BBC Action Line has details of organisations which may be able to help.",
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        "text": " In regard to the drinking binge, Margera said, \"I may get a divorce\n=== Skateboarding career ===In the beginning of his career, during 1997 and 1998, Margera was sponsored by Toy Machine Skateboards\n\n",
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        "text": "Saltivka, in the eastern Ukrainian city of Kharkiv, has been relentlessly bombarded by the Russians. Among the ruins, a few residents are trying to survive. When Russian shells began raining down on Saltivka in February, life in the neighbourhood's numbered apartment blocks became a lottery - one block hit, the next spared. Inside each building, the residents of each apartment survived by their own luck - one apartment turned to ash, the next untouched.  As the bombardment of Kharkiv went on - March, April, May, June - fewer and fewer buildings in Saltivka were spared. Now the neighbourhood is a ghost town. Everywhere you look, deathly black burn marks rise up from the windows where shells hit. There are multi-storey gashes in the sides of the buildings. There are neat circular holes in the roofs where shells punched through but didn't detonate. There are personal possessions strewn over the pathways between the buildings - ejected from the flats above with terrible force. And the shells are still falling. When they land they shake the ground and send a boom bouncing off the buildings and echoing across the empty green spaces and playgrounds. The different shells and rockets have distinctive sounds and leave distinctive pieces of shrapnel that locals have become adept at recognising. They include remnants of widely banned cluster munitions and unguided rockets. None of the weapons are precisely targeted, so nowhere in the neighbourhood is safe. When there is no shelling, Saltivka falls silent. \"Saltivka is like Chernobyl now,\" said Serhiy Khrystych, 44, as he washed his face with water from a plastic bottle, in building 80. \"Of course there was the radiation in Chernobyl, but it was not destroyed. We do not have the radiation but everything here is destroyed,\" he said. \"It is impossible to live.\" Yet there are people living here, eking out an existence in buildings with no gas or water, in some places just one or two residents in a block of 60 or more flats. The electricity has been switched back on in some buildings in the past week, and a few people have returned from the metro stations or other shelters. But it is still a tiny fraction of Saltivka's pre-war population.  At its height, the neighbourhood - a Soviet era development for the city's industrial workers and their families - was home to somewhere between 500,000 and 800,000 people. It was full of family life. \"It was a beautiful area, there was a beautiful park and there was light in the park, and benches and a fountain,\" said Tamara Koneva, a 70-year-old pensioner living on the ground floor of a half-destroyed building. \"Now there is nothing left,\" she said.  Tamara's husband died in March, a month after the invasion. \"Because of the stress,\" she said. So she is mostly alone in their apartment, and nearly alone in the building. \"I miss him,\" she said. \"I don't even have the desire to go outside.\" There is one other person in Tamara's part of the building - a 53-year-old car mechanic called Valeriy Ivanovych, who has lived here for 20 years. His flat has been spared, so far, save for small pieces of shrapnel that broke his windows and punctured his washing machine, kitchen cupboard and bedroom wall like bullets.  \"Barely anybody lives in this building anymore, there is only one couple, a man, a woman and me,\" Valeriy said. \"People sometimes come to collect belongings but they don't stay.\" The flats on Tamara and Valeriy's side of the stairwell were relatively undamaged, but a shell hit the other side directly and the apartment opposite Valeriy's was only ash, collapsed concrete and charred possessions.  \"Maybe the building will have to be destroyed, because the second part of it is destroyed and the third part is very much destroyed,\" Valeriy said.  He has no work now and nowhere else to go. He shrugged. \"This is my home, I have lived here all my life,\" he said, staring out his kitchen window over the trees.  \"It will be a great sadness if all these houses are destroyed because I am very used to this place.\" With no utilities available in their apartments, some of the residents still living in Saltivka have created makeshift outdoor kitchens where they cook food and sit together for company. Once a day, volunteers from the food charity World Central Kitchen make their way around the neighbourhood and hand out meals in styrofoam boxes.  \"Saltivka is a desert now,\" said Leon Petrosyan, a 50-year-old engineer who was carefully navigating a beaten-up black Volga around shell craters and debris, in order to hand out the food. \"The people who are left here have nowhere else to go,\" he said. \"They are trapped.\" Leon stopped for a break and lit a cigarette. The food deliveries are a lifeline for the few residents in Saltivka. There are no shops open here now and for many it is the only meal they eat each day. Serhiy Zhuravliov, a 51-year-old, lifelong Saltivka resident who was helping deliver the food, said he had stayed in the neighbourhood throughout the invasion and the worst of fighting nearby, when Ukrainian troops were stationed in the residential buildings and the frontline was on the doorstep. \"At first we felt fear. Later, we got used to the sound of the shelling,\" he said. \"Now we can't go to sleep without it.\" Looming over Leon and Serhiy as they smoked was a 16-storey tower gouged and burned by direct hits. Up on the 16th floor, Larisa Enina looked out carefully from her hallway on to the high open air, through a gap where part of the wall used to be. There were about 15 people left in the 143-apartment building, Larisa said. The apartment she shares with her husband and daughter was relatively undamaged, save for shrapnel holes in the windows. \"The apartment near ours burned down completely and ours remained intact,\" she said. \"It is a miracle.\" But Larisa was worried about something else. There were big cracks in the walls on the 11th floor, she said, and she thought the building could collapse. \"It is a risk even to stand on the balcony now,\" she said. It's also a risk to stand below. The shell hits dislodge slabs of concrete the size of cars from the top floors that slam into the pavements below with terrifying force. If you look up from the ground, you can see slabs that have been loosened but not fallen, and they sit precariously above the remaining residents. Directly outside the entrance to one building, a massive slab had gone through four feet of pavement and earth and smashed a thick water pipe below. Roman Grynchenko, a 48-year-old car mechanic who has lived in Saltivka for 20 years, was stepping around the water-filled crater as he went in and out of the building. Roman eats one free meal a day now and, like most people here, gets by on government assistance - \u00a355 per month for him, \u00a355 for his wife, and \u00a383 for their daughter.   \"I've been living here for 20 years,\" Roman said. \"Saltivka was a peaceful district ...\" A deafening crack cut him off - the first of three shells landing nearby. \"Now there is a war,\" he said. \"You hear explosions.\"  The Russians attempted to seize Kharkiv in the early days of the invasion and Saltivka bore the brunt of the assault. The invaders were eventually pushed back, and the frontline now sits about 12 miles from the city centre. But Saltivka remains well within Russian artillery range, a reality made impossible to ignore by the daily shelling. At the edge of the neighbourhood, there are still trenches where the Ukrainians dug in for the defence of the city, and chewed curbstones where their tanks mounted the pavements. They used the residential buildings for rest and for sniper positions, residents said - turning the neighbourhood into a target. Few residents seemed to begrudge their presence. The soldiers went from building to building at the beginning asking those with children to evacuate, said Claudia Chubata, a 65-year-old resident of 33 years.  \"They are our soldiers,\" she said. \"They needed to do something here for the war and they needed somewhere to rest.\" But Kharkiv is just 20 miles from the Russian border, a traditionally Russian-leaning, Russian-speaking city, and there are pockets of sympathy towards the invaders. \"Where there is no Ukrainian military, the Russians do not shoot,\" said Boris Rustenko, a 63-year-old glass miller, born in the Soviet Union, whose building was badly damaged and burned. \"If Russia had not attacked Ukraine, Ukraine would have attacked Russia, Crimea, Donetsk, Luhansk,\" Boris said. \"It is very simple, Russia is just ahead.\" Boris, like many residents of Saltivka, has relatives in Russia. In cities like Kharkiv, the Russian-backed violence that began in 2014 and the recent invasion have created smaller conflicts among family and friends.  \"This is Russia, we were brothers,\" said Oleksiy, a 69-year-old builder, who didn't want to give his last name. \"We don't understand why they invaded. We have relatives there, and now what?\" Russia alone was not to blame, Oleksiy thought. The West should \"stop giving Ukraine weapons\", he said, because it was only prolonging the war. As Oleksiy was talking, another resident standing next to him started to cry. \"We were so happy to have flats here,\" said Halyna, a 62-year-old pensioner. Her windows, directly above where she stood, were smashed. \"We were told to replace them ourselves,\" she said. The repairs would cost five times her monthly pension. Less than 10 miles away from where Halyna stood was the frontline. There are fears that Russian troops might return to Kharkiv. Vadym Denysenko, an adviser to Ukraine's interior minister, said on Sunday that Russia was once again \"trying to make Kharkiv a frontline city\". Outside Halyna's building, a few neighbours from buildings nearby were coming up to collect their daily free meal from a bench. It was late afternoon. Halyna looked on, a tear still under her eye.  \"How many have been killed now?\" she said, shaking her head.  \"And just boys, 18 years old. They had only just begun to live.\" Rita Burkovska contributed to this report.",
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        "label": 1,
        "text": " The film received critical acclaim and was nominated for nine Academy Awards, winning three, including Best Picture\n In 2015, Pitt starred opposite his wife, Jolie, in her third directorial effort, By the Sea, a romantic drama about a marriage in crisis, based on her screenplay\n\n",
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        "text": "It's having her children not crying every night and asking if they will be killed is why Kateryna Halenda knows it was the right call to flee Ukraine. Leaving a country torn apart by war may seem like an easy decision but husband Oleh had to persuade her to leave with their two young children because she didn't want to leave him behind. Kateryna now knows she and her kids are safe but still gets mobile phone alerts when air raids are happening back home. Her worries remain, hoping Oleh is ok. The 32-year-old teacher and her two sons Oleksander, nine, and four-year-old Artem are three of the more than five million refugees to have fled Ukraine while worried about the family they've left behind. But unlike many of the 60,000 Ukrainian refugees that have arrived in the UK since Russia invaded Ukraine, Kateryna and her boys have not been taken in by kind families wanting to help. They are one of 60 families who are in a unique Ukrainian community thousands of miles from their homeland in a specialist camp - offering a place to stay, food, education and advice - in the sanctuary of Wales. 'Children drank rainwater from puddles to survive''The war has destroyed three generations'Ukraine war could last for years, warns Nato chief \"It's like a big family here. we're all looking out for each other,\" said Kateryna. \"We were amazed when we came here. It's very new but they're now completely happy, they're playing with other children every day and going to school every day. And they feel safe here - and that's important.\" Kateryna is one of 222 Ukrainian refugees at the camp run the the Welsh youth organisation Urdd Gobaith Cymru and supported by the Welsh government where more than 100 children displaced from home can now play and learn safely. Yet while their parents and grandparents enjoy this haven from war, home and family is never far from their thoughts - and that explains why they didn't escape Ukraine sooner. \"We waited for 100 days because we didn't want to leave at first but my husband made us go,\" said Kateryna. \"It wasn't safe. We were just so often in our basement because of those air raid sirens all of the time, including at night when I had to wake up my kids. \"But we decided to leave just to find a safe place for my kids.\" Kateryna didn't know Olena Andrshchuk before they arrived at the centre in Wales two weeks ago. But now the mums have become friends and support each other with their husbands still back in Ukraine. How can I offer a UK home to Ukrainian refugees?Fears over lack of homes for Ukrainian refugees Olena's husband Pavlo also made his wife leave their home in the capital Kyiv for the safety of her and their two children. \"It's still not safe,\" said the 36-year-old website content writer. \"The very day we were leaving, very close to where we live I woke up in the middle of the night because of really big bombing. \"It still wasn't an easy decision to leave because I still had to leave my home town, my husband, everything I have - but I left for my kids.\" Ukraine war in maps: Battles raging in the east'Ukraine war means I'll miss my son's wedding''I keep telling them, time will come when we meet' Olena says she \"loves\" it in Wales and likens the centre to a \"holiday resort\" with lots of new friends with shared experiences - but the harsh reminders of what's happening at home aren't too far away. \"I have an app on my phone and I still get the alert for the sirens in Ukraine and they are quite frequent,\" said Kateryna, whose husband Oleh is a volunteer back in their home city of Ternopil in western Ukraine. \"So I know when to call my husband to ask how he is.\" The Urdd centre normally hosts Welsh schools but its Ukrainian children who have been living, learning, and laughing in this small corner of the Welsh countryside for the last two months - enjoying the fact they're free to simply play and have fun safely again. \"My kids didn't attend school for up to three months because it wasn't safe,\" said Kateryna. \"But now they're happy as they go to school every day and feel safe.\" Olena agreed as her youngest Leonard, aged four, struggled with a lack of social interaction with children of his own age because most were kept inside because people were \"too afraid\" to let them play outside with air raid sirens bellowing all around. \"It was a big problem for my little one back in Ukraine,\" she said. \"Now we've come here, the kids can socialise, communicate with each other and they're open to all kinds of activities, which they were missing for so long so they just they're happy. \"Of course they are missing their father and grandparents but this is the better reality than what we had in Ukraine.\" While the children enjoy there are daily lessons - in English and Welsh - and a world of activities, their parents can concentrate on finding work, accessing benefits and figuring out where they go next. All of that expert help for refugee families is provided on-site in a one-stop shop that also offered health checks to everyone that arrived - much to the delight of grandmother Marta Burak. \"I was so happy because my grandson was tested for an illness here that we were not able to do back at home,\" said the 64-year-old retired teacher. \"Now he's on three months medication. That was very important for me.\" New UK Army chief issues Russia rallying cryHow many Ukrainian refugees now have UK visas?Where have Ukraine's millions of refugees gone? While her daughter Khrystyna gets intensive English lessons provided by the local college, Marta, who is in her fifth week in the centre, is getting help and advice from on-site authorities to remain in the UK. \"While we are doing the necessary legal things to stay in the UK, we would love to stay here forever,\" she said. \"But one day, we'll have to move on.\" Yet Marta says \"while half of her heart is in Wales, half is left in Ukraine\". \"My son, my daughter-in-law and my son-in law remain in Ukraine and my grandchildren miss their father every day. \"They cannot properly speak with him because they start crying but we are safe here, that is the most important thing. \"Yesterday I got such sad news because the only son of my friend's family got killed and he was only 30. He was such a handsome, positive young man and it is sad young people are still dying in this war and this must be stopped.\" Home is never far people's thoughts but the support of locals draping Ukrainian flags in their windows gives the refugees hope. And in the camp car park there are a handful of cars with Ukrainian registration plates while one family had to drive through Russia in order to avoid fighting on the frontline before eventually finding their way to Wales. People in Wales have so far raised millions of pounds for the Ukraine humanitarian fund and Wales has housed more than 2,500 refugees, The Welsh government has directly sponsored nearly 3,000 people to come to Wales and most are yet to arrive but the scheme has been paused to allow people to move on from their 'welcome centres'.  Mark Drakeford wants Wales to be a \"nation of sanctuary\" and to help Ukrainian refugees \"re-establish their lives\". But Wales' first minister acknowledged the \"challenge for the coming weeks\" is to help more people leave the centre and into more permanent placements so more refugees can be housed and helped. \"Our focus has been on the arrival of people but now we have 4,000 people wanting to come to Wales when we originally expected 1,000,\" he said on a visit to the camp. \"We've got to focus on people moving on from our centres so there are long-term prospects for people who are here temporarily.\"",
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        "text": " The group later shared the tour's North America stops, on February 11, 2019, via social media\n In 2015, G-Dragon's annual earnings from song royalties was estimated to be over $700,000 a year\n\n",
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        "text": "It once had the unenviable title of the most inactive area in England, but Sandwell is managing to make big leaps in improving the fitness and health of its residents. The BBC went to find out how.  \"They're always doing something, they're always on the go.\" The doors open and the boys rush in. The nets are taut, the court floor freshly polished and water bottles line the wooden benches.  Emma Withey has brought her three sons Lewis, 16, Charlie, 12, and Jake, 10, to play badminton.   They've arrived at the Hadley Stadium in Smethwick early, champing at the bit to play with their friends from the Sandwell Special Olympics group. After lockdown ended, the Withey family stepped up their weekly physical exercise routine so they combine an hour on the courts with football, a swimming class and walking their dog.   It's the balance Emma, from Smethwick, has been striving for. Her boys have learning disabilities and she told me she has found it hard to find activities that excite them, hold their attention and keep them fit. \"It just burns all the crazy energy off the boys,\" she said. \"They love it and it's like a great big family here. It's just finding the time to fit it all in with tea and bedtime routines, it is quite hard.\" The Witheys are among a growing number of families in Sandwell seeking out physical exercise and it's making a real difference to wider public health.  For the first time in years, the six towns that make up Sandwell no longer have the least active children in the Midlands. The area is finally shedding the tag of what some have called - rather unkindly - the Black Country's fat capital. A major study of physical activity by Sport England looked at how much exercise an adult gets each week. If it's more than 150 minutes, that's considered 'active' but if it's less than 30 it's considered an 'inactive' lifestyle. The bad news for the Black Country is that, taken as a whole, it remains the most inactive area in England - with 35 per cent of adults working out for less than half an hour a week.   But Sandwell has moved from being the most inactive local authority area in England to 14th in the space of a year. There is nothing sluggish about this improvement. \"Sandwell is one of those places where a sense of community is absolutely crucial,\" the area's director of public health told me. Lisa McNally says the local authority is working harder and offering more grants to grassroots sports organisations.   \"It's not about telling them what they should be doing,\" she adds.   The council has delivered funding grants to dozens of grassroots sports organisations from football, to dancing and tennis.   And with the Sandwell Aquatics centre being a focal point of the upcoming Commonwealth Games in Smethwick, the authority has pledged to continue to offer free swimming lessons for children in local pools. Ongoing access to sport must consider the cost of living for families, says Dr McNally. \"We have high levels of financial deprivation,\" she said. \"A lot of our residents struggle with money and that can be a big barrier towards accessing physical activity and sport.\" The Albion Foundation invited me to see some of their sports coaching in schools. The charity's goal is to deliver 10m hours of sport in the next decade and \"make a difference to 100,000 lives\". At Eaton Valley Primary in West Bromwich, year three pupils were limbering up on one of the warmest days of the year. Katie Grainger and her team were leading a tennis session for one group while pupils with special educational needs were trying out the long jump.  Crucially, they've found that 91 per cent of children they coach during school hours are also joining their sessions after school and at weekends. \"Since Covid, the obesity levels have been quite high coming out of it so I think that has helped with the mindset shift as well,\" says Katie. \"I think it is really important to encourage not just physical activity but healthy lifestyles as a whole.\" Volunteers are an important part of the shift in attitudes. Norma Hyde has been a volunteer for Sandwell Special Olympics for 40 years.   The organisation has just been awarded the Queen's Award for Voluntary Service.   Ms Hyde says the young adults missed sport and exercise during the pandemic and it increased their isolation. \"They've missed it for quite a long time and they began to become unfit and it also affected their mental health,\" she said.   \"A lot were getting so isolated and depressed, they needed something to belong to. We're trying to keep them active and keep the momentum going.\" The devil, as they say, is in the detail but really it's in the data.  In Sandwell last year, NHS England reported a nine per cent drop in hospital admissions directly attributable to obesity.  Taken with the Sport England survey, it's understandable why there is a renewed confidence that families like the Witheys are engaging with sport. For a decade, I have reported on the difficulty families in the Black Country have faced to stay fit, eat healthily and access sport.   I have spoken to countless health experts, frustrated directors of public health who all had sensible plans but when fresh data emerged, it was clear progress was much harder to achieve. Dr McNally says the Commonwealth Games could \"stimulate a lot more interest in being active\u2026which could bring such a boost to what we are trying to achieve here\". Follow BBC West Midlands on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Send your story ideas to: newsonline.westmidlands@bbc.co.uk",
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