After nearly a week on the lam in the woods near a state-run mental hospital in Jessup, David Watson is back behind bars.
Federal agents are now leading the search for a prisoner who escaped the custody of prison guards while being transported to a psychiatric evaluation in Jessup on Friday morning.
If you’ve ever danced a rousing polka in the Baltimore area, chances are it was at Blob’s Park, the beloved beer garden/Bavarian dance hall in Jessup. It was the kind of place where you could eat some brats, drink out of a stein, and get a dance lesson. But Blob’s struggled with polka’s declining relevance, and with a younger generation’s lack of identification with Bavarian traditions. Blob’s closed and re-opened a few years ago, only to close again last year.
Will Rogers said, “If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.” Not a bad idea. Surely any doggie afterlife is full of play and enthusiastic affection; and it’s probably a place where all food tastes good. Plus, we feel such kinship with our furry friends that the idea of being eternally separated from our canine companions is just too much to bear. After all, no matter how long or hard your day, no matter how bad of a mood you are in, your dog is there to comfort you—not a care in the world. So why not give back a little bit to the species that gives us so much? Take Fido out for a stroll this weekend with Strut Your Mutt—you’ll both have a good time, and you’ll be helping support animal rescue, too.
Anne Arundel County police seized several items from an alleged gang member’s Jessup home, but included among the routine stuff — drugs, cash, etc. — was a three-foot American Alligator.
When Lynn Zwerling, 67, decided she wanted to teach knitting to male prisoners in Jessup back in 2005, the wardens thought she was nuts. The men wouldn’t be interested in a traditionally feminine hobby, they argued — not to mention the fact that knitting needles looked an awful lot like weapons.
Cut to six years later, and Zwerling (plus several other volunteers) has spent the past two years teaching more than a hundred prisoners to knit — and she has a waiting list of dozens more. Prisoners have crafted comfort dolls for kids removed from their homes by social services; they’ve made hats for kids at a nearby inner-city elementary school.
The idea came about after Zwerling started a knitting club in her hometown of Columbia and ended up recruiting 500 members. “I looked around the room one day and I saw a zen quality about it,” Zwerling told GOOD magazine. “Here were people who didn’t know each other, had nothing in common, sitting together peacefully like little lambs knitting. I thought, ‘It makes me and these people feel so good. What would happen if I took knitting to a population that never experienced this before?’”
Richy Horton, 38, told Good about his experience with the knitting classes:
“I was like, I’m not going to that thing. And then I went, and you were actually speaking to real people. People can’t really understand [that in prison] you’re completely separated from anything normal or real in the world. You’re always told what to do and when to do it, so to have people come in and treat you like a human being means so much. They came in and they were like my mom.”
If you’re interested in donating money or supplies, there’s info here about the group’s needs.