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Gary Tischler • August 18, 2014

They stuffed the news in right at the end of a local news broadcast, leading into a national one, yesterday: “We’ve just learned that it appears that Robin Williams has died” or words to that effect.

It was an eye-blink moment, as if you’ve just heard something that wasn’t quite right, couldn’t be true. No details, just a Joe Friday just-the-facts.

Until the news was confirmed by online news sites and midway through the nightly news, I didn’t quite believe it. Williams was such a motor mouth, such a force of nature. How do you put the shut-up quiet on that?

Death has its ways, as it turns out. Williams had already been gone for a number of hours at that point, found dead in his home in Tiburon, in Marin County outside San Francisco, Calif., apparently a suicide by asphyxiation at the age of 63. Williams was known to suffer from depression — as sometimes the people who make you laugh the hardest do — and to have gone back into rehab. He openly battled alcohol and drug addictions throughout his life, a process which sometimes found its way into his standup comedy routines. (“Cocaine,” he quipped, “is God’s way of telling you you’re making too much money.”)

Mostly, Williams was a wizard, one of those non-stop brilliant imagineers, blessed and cursed with great talent, an ability, for instance—to play with literally an army of toy soldiers and individualize and talk with each and every one of them as a child—to create worlds that spilled out of his mouth, his mind, heart and soul with alarming rapidity, full-blown, uncensored, profanely funny. He became others fluently, with both facility and intensity, almost at will.

When Robin Williams got on a stage and grabbed a mike, he was a one-man parade. He was the trombone, the drummer, the cheerleader, the politician waving to the crowd, the clown in full, sloppy makeup, the baton twirler, the confetti and the Shriners doing wheelies — and, boy, did we love his parade.

He really was a gift and gifted. It’s easy to think of him in any number of ways, in so many parts. He was a comic, to be sure, a clown, for sure, but he was always a hard-working, convincing actor who explored as many arenas of human experience as he could, on stage, but on the screen as well. He was a bona fide movie star, and on the small screen, where he first and forcefully invaded our consciousness as the Mork of “Mork and Mindy,” a goofy alien send to study earthlings, he nano-nanoed his way into our living rooms along with the bewildered, sweet Pam Dawber.

His inspiration was Jonathan Winters, the man of many parts, who slid easily and with remarkable aplomb in and out of characters who sprang fully blown, with beady eyes, onto a stage or in front of a camera. He was Winters on steroids, in a way, but mostly he was Williams, hairy, curly haired, sometimes bug eyed, profane as all get out, pacing like someone who’s just escaped a straight jacket.

President Obama, in a White House statement, captured him movingly, referencing his movie roles: “Robin Williams was an airman, a doctor, a genie, nanny, a president, a professor, a bangarang Peter Pan, and everything in between. He was one of a kind. He arrived in our lives as an alien, but he ended up touching every element of the human spirit. He made us laugh. He made us cry.”

Williams first arrived on the movie screen as “Popeye,” a big-screen version of the sailor-man hero of the daily comics, directed by none other than Robert Altman. I will admit to liking it and him a lot—although I was in a critical and popular minority on that one. It was a comic truly envisioned as otherworldly and totally believable, bulging muscles, tattoo and love for Olive Oyl (aggressively played by Shelley Duvall), it was all colors and magic.

But he found his stride as both a comic actor (the memorable, manic “Good Morning Viet Nam” and “Moscow on the Hudson” and the dazzling “Mrs. Doubtfire”) as an actor-actor (“Good Will Hunting,” for which he won an Oscar, the understated (yes, a quiet Robin) and inspiring teacher in “Dead Poet’s Society” and a turn in “The Fisher King.”

Critics preferred Williams’s darker roles as opposed to “Dead Poets,” which they saw as sentimental, a quality they react to in much the same way as the Wicked Witch of the West reacts to Toto. He was praised for creepy and even bad guy roles in “One Hour Photo,” which hardly anyone saw, and “Insomnia,” in which he was paired with Al Pacino and Hilary Swank in a brisk but atmospheric cop and killer noir thriller set in Alaska.

Williams and Steve Miller, comedians both, found the humor under the direction of Mike Nichols in a brief-run Broadway production of Samuel Beckett’s “Waiting for Godot,” in which Vladimir and Estragon at one point yelled at each other, taking turns abusing each other verbally: “Critic,” Williams hurled at Martin, a game-ender, that one.

His imagination, even in not-so-hot-movies, and the recent attempt at a television return, called resonantly “The Crazy Ones” (cancelled), was always running wild.

I had seen him in person once, when he was one of the saluters and razzers for the Kennedy Center’s first Mark Twain Prize for American Humor which honored Richard Pryor. Williams—and a host of his peers—four-lettered in characteristic fashion, giving an impression of how a possibly Irish, shocked Kennedy Center usher might have reacted. “Oh my god, they used that word again, and the other ones, too.” It remains a mystery how Williams managed to avoid receiving the Twain award over the years. George Carlin, one of his idols, won it posthumously.

Still, that news flash about Williams’s death was hard to take, hard to shake, and the days news only made things more final. How do you slow down that dust devil of a performing energy? Truth: You don’t.

I sat in front of my computer and watched his ironically and sadly entitled “Weapons of Self Destruction” standup show. As he downed about 40 plastic bottles of water and paced across the stage like a mountain climber, I watched him go from forest fires to coyotes, to Osama Bin Laden, to Obama, to Schwarzenegger, sprinkling profanity like four-letter, scented and exploding prunes throughout.

I watched, and I listened and I laughed until it made my sides ache. In tribute, I would say this, because it was his gift: I laughed my ass off.

Nothing today is totally final. Something is always left behind, like his trail of funny stuff, a funny man past pacing himself. Wherever he goes, he will land on his feet, motoring.

Georgetowner •

Yanni

August 15th, 2014 at 08:00 PM | $35.00 – $125.00 | philipc@wolftrap.org | Tel: 703.255.1900 ext. 1729 | Event Website

Globally acclaimed composer whose epic orchestrations fuse otherworldly synthesized sound with gorgeous instrumentation

Address

1551 Trap Road Vienna Virginia, 22182

Architecture 101: Bio-architecture

August 16th, 2014 at 11:00 AM | $12 Member | $10 Student | $20 Non-member. | marcommintern@nbm.org | Event Website

Address

National Building Museum, 401 F St., NW

National Bonsai Foundation Celebrates John Naka’s 100th Birthday

August 16th, 2014 at 02:00 PM | Free | averyanapol@gmail.com | Tel: 4148612076 | Event Website

Join the National Bonsai Foundation as we celebrate the legacy of John Naka, North American bonsai master who would have been 100 years old on this date. The event will feature videos and photos of Naka at work, remarks by the Museum’s assistant curator Aarin Packard, a display of Naka’s bonsai from the museum’s permanent collection and birthday cake.

Address

The National Arboretum, 3501 New York Ave., NE

IEF Old Fashioned Family Picnic

August 17th, 2014 at 02:00 PM | $70 per person, $150 for family | cbaerveldt@iefusa.org | Tel: 240-290-0263 ext 118 | [Event Website](http://iefusa.org/

Second Annual Old Fashioned Family Picnic to benefit the International Eye Foundation. Great family picnic fare, wine, beer, sodas. Hay rides, and listen to the music of King Street Bluegrass. Children welcome.

Address

Farm of Dr. & Mrs. A. Raymond Pilkerton, 15111 River Road, Potomac, Md.

Georgetown Family Festival

August 23rd, 2014 at 10:00 AM | info@dumbartonhouse.org | [Event Website](https://www.eventbrite.com/e/dolley-day-at-dumbarton-house-war-of-1812-commemoration-tickets-8779302129?ref=ebapi)

Dumbarton House invites you to a weekend full of events that are fun for the whole family. Programs include, Georgetown walking tours, ice cream making, a Dolley cake and Federal period games and crafts. Events begin Saturday, August 23rd at 10am and conclude Sunday, August 24th at 4pm.Admission to the museum is free this weekend.

Address

Dumbarton House; 2715 Q ST, NW

Georgetowner • August 11, 2014

Architecture 101: Traditional Japanese Architecture

August 9th, 2014 at 11:00 AM | $12 Member | $10 Student | $20 Non-member | marcommintern@nbm.org | Event Website

Mira Locher, FAIA, LEED AP discusses why thick, thatched roofs, rough mud-plaster walls, and precisely woven tatami mats are grounded within the natural environment and culture of Japan. 1.5 LU (AIA)
$12 Member | $10 Student | $20 Non-member.
Special series pricing for all three Architecture 101 lectures: $30 Member | $25 Student | $50 Non-member.

Address

National Building Museum; 401 F St. NW

DC’s Biggest Outdoor Water Festival For Adults Comes To The Yards

August 9th, 2014 at 02:00 PM | Free | Event Website

The Yards will host its first-ever adult outdoor water festival, Splash Yards. The park will transform into an adult pool party complete with water elements, lawn games and a tiki bar. Guests can stay cool with a giant inflatable water slide, two pools with individual motorboats and people-sized hamster balls, and a water battle of epic proportions. Live entertainment will be provided by beloved 90s party band, White Ford Bronco, as well as multiple DJ sets.

Address

355 Water Street SE

Harbour Nights: Stephen Heller

August 13th, 2014 at 06:30 PM | Event Website

Relax on the plaza at the Washington Harbour and hear live music at Harbour Nights every Wednesday evening starting June 4 through September 24. Different local bands each week – including Kerry McCool, Josh Burgess, ilyAIMY, and many more – begin their two-hour shows at 6:30 pm, next to outdoor restaurants on the Potomac River waterfront in Georgetown. See the lists of bands, special events, and dining options on the website, and stay updated with Facebook/TheWashHarbour and Twitter/TheWashHarbour.

Address

3050 K Street NW

Collections Conversation: Dolley Madison and the War of 1812

August 13th, 2014 at 12:30 PM | Free | info@dumbartonhouse.org | Event Website

Join Dumbarton House Executive Director Karen Daly and learn more about Dolley Madison’s exciting flight from the White House and her stop at Dumbarton House through research by author Anthony Pitch and the collections of Dumbarton House. The talk will feature items on loan for the exhibition “Homefront 1812: Friends, Family & Foe” on view at Dumbarton House throughout Summer 2014.Event is free, but reservations are suggested.

Address

Dumbarton House; 2715 Q ST, NW

Exhibition Reception: 50 Egg Tempera Paintings by Caroline Adams

August 15th, 2014 at 06:00 PM | FREE | gallery@callowayart.com | Tel: 202-965-4601 | Event Website

Mix egg yolk with powdered pigment and you have egg tempera, a painting medium that has been used for over 1,000 years. A successful Kickstarter campaign provided the funding for Washington artist Caroline Adams’s project to make 50 paintings in egg tempera. The project culminates in an exhibition of the fifty small landscapes at Susan Calloway Fine Arts in Georgetown. Adams noted that they will be hung together “to feel like glimpses of a larger space”.

Address

Susan Calloway Fine Arts; 1643 Wisconsin Ave NW

Georgetowner •

In Washington, the anniversaries just keep on coming.

“Therefore, I am resigning the office of the Presidency of the United States,” announced President Richard Nixon, embroiled beyond constitutional and legal hope in the Watergate tapes and scandal. No American president had ever uttered those words before. That was Aug. 8, 1974, 40 years ago on Friday. He was gone in helicopter liftoff the following day, Aug. 9, even as Vice President Gerald Ford was sworn in as President of the United States.

Giving voice to a collective national sigh, Ford said, “At last, our long national nightmare is over.”

Well, apparently not. Many people are still dreaming not so good dreams about the Watergate years, with the result there has been a constant flow of books, articles, films, made-for-TV films, documentary and quasi-fictional since Nixon, perhaps the most controversial president in modern times, resigned his office.

There were, of course, numerous tomes by some of the participants and principals, not the least of which was Nixon himself, but also his aides Bob Haldeman and John Ehrlichman, Jeb Magruder, and most and always ever lastingly famous “All The President’s Men” by the Washington Post reporters, who unearthed and covered the scandal, which forever tagged the “gate” on every subsequent political scandal, Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein.

The Post, by going after the story tooth and nail, risking quite a bit before jumping in, and as a consequence solidified its standing as the country’s top newspaper with the New York Times. The Post won a Pulitzer Prize for its Watergate reporting along with legendary political cartoonist Herblock and became something of an institutional celebrity, if there is such a thing.

Nixon, who had won re-election by an unprecedented plus 60-percent margin in 1972, seemed poised on the precipice of great opportunity. Instead, the arrest of several men, who had tried to burglarize the office of the Democratic Party headquarters, located within the Watergate complex, would in not so long a time spiral into revelations of campaign sabotage, bribery, lies, illegal funding, wiretapping and a gigantic coverup that would doom Nixon and most of the ranking members of his administration, and destroy a dramatic political career.

There’s no point today in detailing the story—everyone else has, and in great deal, and continues to do so. Nationally, the highlight was probably Nixon’s emotional resignation speech, and an earlier one in which he had to declare, “I am not a crook.” Top aides and U.S. Attorney General John Mitchell were forced to resign. There were revelations of break-ins, of former CIA agents working for the aptly acronymed CREEP (Campaign to Re-elect the President) and attempts to co-opt an often willing FBI.

Also, there were the tapes, the damnable tapes, thousands of pages of tapes, in which the president, profane, ranting, dispirited, angry and completely uncensored, not only revealed himself to have knowledge of the coverup and all that went with it but displayed a man who was profoundly paranoid, bigoted and vengeful.

The last tape was the last straw—by that time, it was apparent that there were few if any House of Representatives members who weren’t prepared to vote articles of impeachment.

The saga always made for great, eye-popping reading or watching. At least two films of note were made from the material—“Nixon-Frost,” a gripping film made from a gripping stage play, and “Nixon,” starring Anthony Hopkins as a Nixon trapped in a conspiracy as imagined feverishly by Oliver Stone, whose view of American politics (“JFK” and “W”) is nothing if not conspiratorial.

In 2012, there was “Watergate,” a kind of emotional and understated novel by the gifted Thomas Mallon, a political and historical novelist of note (“Henry and Clara” about the couple in the presidential box with Abraham Lincoln and “Dewey Defeats Truman” among others). In “Watergate,” Mallon uses Rosemary Woods and Fred LaRue as major characters and comes up with a work of fiction that is almost a kind of trenchant elegy of and eulogy for the days of Richard Nixon.

John Dean as Nixon’s White House’s counsel was one of the most pivotal figures in the scandal, once called a master manipulator of the cover-up, who also warned the president that there was a cancer on the presidency, close to the presidency.

Dean testified for the prosecution, spent small time in prison and became a prolific author, beginning with his first account of Watergate “Blind Ambition” and, recently, “The Nixon Defense.”

If you want a great sense of what it was like to live in Washington during the Nixon years and especially the Watergate debacle, it’s worth reading and looking at “Washington Journal” by the veteran reporter and graceful writer Elizabeth Drew, who began writing a series of journal entries during the scandal for the New Yorker.

For both facts, and atmospherics, it’s hard to beat this thick (nearly 500 pages) almost day-by-account of the scandal, unfolding like a wave far out to sea, and becoming a tidal wave that engulfed the Nixonites, the city and the country.

I was a reporter in the San Francisco Bay area at the time and was told to take the pulse of the passers-by on the day of the president’s resignation. The reaction amounted to shock, outrage among residents of this very liberal part of California, and confusion about the facts and details of Watergate.

By the time, I moved to Washington, Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman were already in the city, scouting out the scene and the Washington Post for the movie version of “All the President’s Men”.

Nixon was pardoned by President Gerald Ford a year after he resigned. Nixon died in 1994, a sage and wizened member of the New York law establishment. Former presidents extolled Nixon at his funeral as a flawed statesman who had many successes and political talents. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger wept at the funeral.

By that time, you could be forgiven if you forgot Nixon’s flaws. “One of Us” was Tom Wicker’s judgement on Nixon in the sense that he suggested that Nixon was made of humble and insecure cloth, much like many Americans, and rose to eminence in spite of the holes in his character.

Those holes, it turns out, remain considerable if you looked at “Nixon by Nixon: In His Own Words,” a documentary by Peter Kunhardt (“Teddy: In His Own Words”), in a style that unfilters Nixon amid not only Watergate but also his own biggest triumph, the trip to China. With clips on different subjects—tapes, the press, China, Viet Nam—Kunhardt references Nixon through his recorded voice from the infamous tapes talking with aides like Ken H. R. Haldeman or Chuck Colson. The outpouring remains shocking—just when you think you’ve forgotten this as ancient history—there he is bristling with vitriol, about Jews—they’re “disloyal,” full of bigoted cliches and characterizations of minorities—and a burning hatred of the press. At one point, he’s making out a media list for the trip to China “the networks, sure, the wires and only a couple of others. Nothing for Post or the Times. Screw them. Not even photographers.”

His voice, then, becomes as alive as you or I, because we know this to be the truth. The unvarnished truth.

History may judge Nixon as a great president, if we are to believe Kissinger. After all, he was the first president to go to China. He was also the first president to resign his office.

History will remember that, too.

Robert Devaney • August 7, 2014

With Georgetown toddlers and youngsters at the ready, the Citizens Association of Georgetown celebrated this year’s finale to Concerts in the Park July 13 with a patriotic celebration and parade at Rose Park at 26th and O Streets, NW.

Singer Laura Tsaggaris and her band belted out some lively country-pop tunes, as the little ones — along with the grown-ups — sampled free ce cream cones from Haagen Daz, snow cones or hot dogs from TTR Sotheby’s, which also handed out its blue balloons. Long & Foster had a photographer for special shoots and a prize give-away. Nancy Taylor Bubes of Washington Fine Properties gave out frisbees for coloring and other crafting. Sprinkles cupcakes handed out red velvet or vanilla cupcakes. Also, parked next to the park was Glover Park’s Surfside food truck.

Children kept the July 4th theme going with red, white and blue streamers, glasses, pinwheels and tried to march in front of the stage in a straight line.
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Joseph Park •

Yummi Crawfish Restaurant is opening up its first location at 1529 Wisconsin Ave., NW, as it takes over the former Puro Café space.

The restaurant plans to offer crawfish, Cajun-style, unique to Louisiana. Other seafood options will be available, such as crab legs, lobster, mussels, shrimp and raw oysters.

As Yummi Crawfish is interviewing prospective restaurant workers, it promises to provide quality seafood as well as friendly service to the customers.
“With our hearts in our hands, our promise is to always provide fresh and high quality seafood that will be pampered with delightful flavors,” according to the Yummi Crawfish website. “It is a commitment to achieve the ideal customer experience success. We believe in making a difference, we are the difference.”

The opening date for the restaurant is yet to be determined. Stay tuned for updates on the restaurant’s debut.

Robert Devaney • August 4, 2014

The newest Capital Bikeshare station is now open at 34th and K (Water) Streets, NW. Located across from Malmaison Restaurant and near the entrance to the Capital Crescent trail, the new station offers another means of transportation for residents, commuters and visitors in Georgetown.

“With the addition of this station, District Department of Transportation adds another station to the Western side of the District that greatly improves connections between D.C. and Maryland’s Capital Bikeshare networks, as well as providing crucial capacity expansion for the system in Georgetown,” said Will Handsfield, transportation director at the Georgetown Business Improvement District. “With this expansion, residents and employees of the growing Canal District can have confidence that they’ll be able to find a bike or open dock when they need it.”

As a part of the Georgetown 2028 initiative, the Georgetown BID is working with DDOT to alleviate increased automobile traffic by making Georgetown a more bicycle-friendly neighborhood.

With the opening of the new Bikeshare station, Georgetown now has six access stations at Wisconsin Avenue and O Street, NW; 37th and O Streets, NW; Wisconsin Avenue and South Street, NW; 34th and K (Water) Streets, NW; 30th and K Streets, NW; 28th and M Streets, NW. There is also a Bikeshare station, just north of town, at Wisconsin Avenue and Whitehaven Street, NW, in front of the British School and near the Georgetown Safeway.

Mary Bird •

The Georgetown Business Association chose one of the best possible evenings, given the recent late afternoon deluges, to board the Boomerang Pirate Ship — thanks to Nikki and Dave Dubois from Boomerang Tours — at Washington Harbour on July 16. “Dressing like a pirate” was optional for local business persons, who enjoyed signature libations and ample treats from Jetties, Simply Banh Mi and J9 Yoga as they sailed past landmarks and watched the sunset. Luckily, no one walked the plank. The next GBA networking reception will be in September.
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Robert Devaney •

The Metropolitan Police Department’s Mountain Bike Tactical Unit is joining up with the Citizen’s Advisory Council to host their annual community bike ride event, the Orange Helmet Patrol. This event will take place 7 p.m. to 8 p.m., Thursday, July 10. The ride will begin at 26th and P Streets, NW.
Meet your neighborhood officers. Identify street lights that are out and other problems. Be part of a new high-visibility crime prevention strategy.

The Orange Helmet Patrol of bicyclists is a new twist on an old concept. Begun in the late 1980s in Washington, D.C., Orange Hat Patrols have become a widely used and accepted component of community policing. Wearing orange hats to show neighbors that they are helping to check out the community, groups of volunteers have proven to be a crime deterrent. With the increasing popularity of biking, the Second District has implemented a new community policing bike program.

All skill levels and ages are encouraged to join the ride. For more details, email Kaitlyn.Bush@dc.gov.

Note from MPD: Participation in the community-police bike ride is voluntary. Participants will be required to sign a liability waiver before the ride. Children under the age of 16 must wear a helmet to participate.

Gary Tischler •

In troubled times, the precious daily dealings we do demand to be noticed, as if they might lose themselves in the morning headlines and the nightly news.

Of late, we have lived a summer of ongoing sorrow as well as one in which the weather has contrived to bring us rain and heat and the tribulations of storms during the week, and often picture-perfect weekends which we embrace with urgency.

In Washington, D.C, where the world news is local news and politics are like soot in the air, these patterns are especially poignant. We saw recently flowers grow like gardens at the Malaysian Embassy and the Embassy of the Netherlands, where mourners signed condolence books and President Barack Obama visited. It was the Dutch who suffered the most deaths in the shocking, horrific shoot down of a Malaysian over battle-contested territory in Ukraine. Nearly 300 deaths came from that act, suspected to be committed by pro-Russian separatists armed with sophisticated missiles, obtained from Russia, in eastern Ukraine. Bodies of passengers and uniformed crew members and children and toys, laptops, scarves and shoes and notebooks fell from the sky and scattered across the war-torn steppe.

The protagonists in that tragedy are still sifting through the physical and emotional wreckage that came from—there were funeral marches, candlelit vigils, full churches and anguish both spoken and held in the quiet of the night. In the meantime, the quasi-civil war continued in the Ukraine, apace, some of it fought near the site of the crash.

In the Middle East, there was nothing but death and fire everywhere, most dramatically in the Gaza strip, that embattled, compact land in which Palestinians live in stark contrast to many of their neighbors. A series of events—the murder of three Israeli teenagers, a retaliatory killing of a Palestinian teenager and the launching of rockets by the militant group Hamas into Israel—led to eventually an Israeli invasion of Gaza in search of deadly tunnels and launching sites. Gaza has become a killing ground with half-hearted truces quickly broken. A thousand Palestinians have died, many of them civilians, many children among them. There have been significantly more Israeli military casualties than in previous such clashes.

There seems to be no end in sight—thousands dying in Syria in the civil war there, hundreds more in Iraq where a preternaturally violent terrorist group is still within sight of Baghdad, killing with terrible efficiency.

These are the daily news of our lives—they often obliterate other news, as well as the politics of our divided times, including the big national questions of what to do with the flow of Central American youngsters to the American borders in Texas.

This is the stuff of coffee house talk, morning headaches, anguish and sorrow for many Washingtonians, this most international of cities, who have friends and relatives in the areas of conflict and killing.

In times like these, in this city, we cherish the joys we can manage, almost with a kind of guilt, the news always out there like a reproach. Still, the sun reflecting on carefully stacked tomatoes, bright and shiny, from the Eastern Shore, is a welcome, almost energizing sight: the colors seem perfect, even blessed. At the Dupont Circle Sunday market, musicians—a black, wiry man playing jazz with his violin, a smallish man in blue jeans putting a folk and country wail into a song about love gone dry in the long ago.

We wander through the market, where ready-made food is an increasing presence, buy our Sunday crab cakes because we must, take home West Virginia potato salad and a scrumptious peach and strawberry pie.

At Eastern Market on Capitol Hill, we mingle with the many who have come to enjoy the sun and its bearable temperatures and blue sky. We buy a stack of chocolate chip cookies from a woman who says, “Money back guaranteed, the best cookies on the street.” We go to the bookstore stacked with so many used books over two or three floors that the building seems to list. “Been here over two decades, sitting right here behind the counter,” the proprietor says. “You need to get out more,” somebody tells him. Children run, fathers lift their baby boys, dogs abound and jewelry from South Africa sparkles like a gift to come.

These days, you notice these things in what appears to be a sad, dangerous summer, filled with bright skies and omens.

In 1914, 100 years ago, on July 28, World War I began — after a month before there was another impossible blue-sky day like that in Sarajevo, when Gavrilo Princip, a Bosnian Serb, shot the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne, setting off a series of events that would lead to the deaths of millions and change the world.