• Flattening hills to build Seattle, 1905-1930.

    Between 1905 and 1930, Seattle underwent one of the most ambitious urban engineering projects in American history: the regrading of its hills. The city’s steep terrain, while scenic, was seen as a barrier to economic growth and expansion.

    In response, entire hillsides (like Denny Hill, shown in this photo) were systematically flattened using sluicing, where high-pressure water cannons eroded the soil and sent it through massive flumes. The displaced earth was often used to fill in tide flats and create new, flatter land for development.

    What you see in this image are the final remnants of Denny Hill, isolated towers of earth known as “spite mounds,” left standing amid the newly carved landscape.

    The scale of the project was massive, moving millions of cubic yards of earth and permanently reshaping the city.

    Today, much of downtown Seattle sits on land that was once underwater or high above sea level, testament to a bold, if brutal, vision of progress.

    Fun Fact: To flatten Denny Hill, workers used high-powered water jets called "hydraulic monitors”, the same technology used during the California Gold Rush to blast through mountains in search of gold.

    In total, they moved enough earth to fill over 100,000 modern dump trucks. The sheer amount of mud and sediment caused issues too, at one point, streets were left suspended in midair as the ground beneath them was washed away faster than the infrastructure could be updated. Seattle locals joked they needed ladders just to reach their front doors!
    Flattening hills to build Seattle, 1905-1930. Between 1905 and 1930, Seattle underwent one of the most ambitious urban engineering projects in American history: the regrading of its hills. The city’s steep terrain, while scenic, was seen as a barrier to economic growth and expansion. In response, entire hillsides (like Denny Hill, shown in this photo) were systematically flattened using sluicing, where high-pressure water cannons eroded the soil and sent it through massive flumes. The displaced earth was often used to fill in tide flats and create new, flatter land for development. What you see in this image are the final remnants of Denny Hill, isolated towers of earth known as “spite mounds,” left standing amid the newly carved landscape. The scale of the project was massive, moving millions of cubic yards of earth and permanently reshaping the city. Today, much of downtown Seattle sits on land that was once underwater or high above sea level, testament to a bold, if brutal, vision of progress. Fun Fact: To flatten Denny Hill, workers used high-powered water jets called "hydraulic monitors”, the same technology used during the California Gold Rush to blast through mountains in search of gold. In total, they moved enough earth to fill over 100,000 modern dump trucks. The sheer amount of mud and sediment caused issues too, at one point, streets were left suspended in midair as the ground beneath them was washed away faster than the infrastructure could be updated. Seattle locals joked they needed ladders just to reach their front doors!
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  • In 1993, Crucial Conflict was still years away from their breakout hit “Hay,” but they were already making serious noise on the underground Chicago circuit. What most fans don’t know is that their first recordings were done on cassette through a tiny West Side basement studio run by producer Wildstyle, who later became the group’s in-house beatmaker. According to a 1996 interview in Rap Sheet, the group was developing a fast-paced, harmonized style inspired by Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, but with deeper roots in Chicago’s juke, footwork, and blues scenes. The original lineup was even slightly different, with some early sessions rumored to include verses from local artists who didn’t make the final cut when they signed with Universal.

    A rarely confirmed rumor, supported by DJ Geno from Chicago’s old WGCI radio staff, says that Crucial Conflict recorded an unreleased EP in 1993 titled Mad Conflict, featuring early versions of “Desperado” and “Ride the Rodeo” before they were polished for The Final Tic. These early demos were passed around on dubbed tapes in high schools across the West Side and South Side and even made it into the hands of Twista, who gave the group props publicly at a 1994 open mic at the Cotton Club. Some of these tapes reportedly still exist in collector circles, making them one of the most valuable lost gems in Chicago hip hop history.

    Sources:
    Rap Sheet Magazine (1996 Crucial Conflict interview)
    DJ Geno interview on Vocalo Radio (2018)
    WGCI Radio Archives (1993 playlist reports)
    The Final Tic Liner Notes (1996, Universal Records)
    Chicago Hip Hop Oral History Project (University of Chicago, 2005)

    #CrucialConflict #Chicago #HipHop #1993Rap #WestSideChicago
    ✅ In 1993, Crucial Conflict was still years away from their breakout hit “Hay,” but they were already making serious noise on the underground Chicago circuit. What most fans don’t know is that their first recordings were done on cassette through a tiny West Side basement studio run by producer Wildstyle, who later became the group’s in-house beatmaker. According to a 1996 interview in Rap Sheet, the group was developing a fast-paced, harmonized style inspired by Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, but with deeper roots in Chicago’s juke, footwork, and blues scenes. The original lineup was even slightly different, with some early sessions rumored to include verses from local artists who didn’t make the final cut when they signed with Universal. ✅ A rarely confirmed rumor, supported by DJ Geno from Chicago’s old WGCI radio staff, says that Crucial Conflict recorded an unreleased EP in 1993 titled Mad Conflict, featuring early versions of “Desperado” and “Ride the Rodeo” before they were polished for The Final Tic. These early demos were passed around on dubbed tapes in high schools across the West Side and South Side and even made it into the hands of Twista, who gave the group props publicly at a 1994 open mic at the Cotton Club. Some of these tapes reportedly still exist in collector circles, making them one of the most valuable lost gems in Chicago hip hop history. Sources: Rap Sheet Magazine (1996 Crucial Conflict interview) DJ Geno interview on Vocalo Radio (2018) WGCI Radio Archives (1993 playlist reports) The Final Tic Liner Notes (1996, Universal Records) Chicago Hip Hop Oral History Project (University of Chicago, 2005) #CrucialConflict #Chicago #HipHop #1993Rap #WestSideChicago
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  • Macon, Georgia. 1937.
    A man who could fix anything—lawn mowers, sewing machines, broken motors—was suddenly told he couldn’t work unless he paid $25 for a city license. With no money to spare and a family to feed, he made a brutal but necessary choice: leave the city behind.

    He, his wife, and their child packed up what little they had and began walking—thumbs out, hearts heavy, heading back to Alabama where the cost of surviving might be just a little less cruel.

    This scene wasn’t rare. Across Depression-era America, thousands of families did the same. Hitchhiking wasn’t adventure. It was survival. It was trust in strangers. It was dignity clinging to the edge of desperation.

    Captured at the side of a dusty road, this family’s quiet resolve tells a powerful truth: resilience didn’t always look like victory—it looked like not giving up.

    #DustBowlSurvivors #HistoryInSilence
    ~ The Two Pennies
    Macon, Georgia. 1937. A man who could fix anything—lawn mowers, sewing machines, broken motors—was suddenly told he couldn’t work unless he paid $25 for a city license. With no money to spare and a family to feed, he made a brutal but necessary choice: leave the city behind. He, his wife, and their child packed up what little they had and began walking—thumbs out, hearts heavy, heading back to Alabama where the cost of surviving might be just a little less cruel. This scene wasn’t rare. Across Depression-era America, thousands of families did the same. Hitchhiking wasn’t adventure. It was survival. It was trust in strangers. It was dignity clinging to the edge of desperation. Captured at the side of a dusty road, this family’s quiet resolve tells a powerful truth: resilience didn’t always look like victory—it looked like not giving up. #DustBowlSurvivors #HistoryInSilence ~ The Two Pennies
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  • Chuck goes hip hop. Master P was ahead of his time first to come from hip hop play in the NBA and have his own basketball shoe. In 1999 Converse sales were down and they used an unconventional route to boost their sales. They signed Percy Miller, giving him his own signature sneaker. Master P joined the Charlotte Hornets in 1999 and wore the Converse Smooth. The following year he joined the Raptors. #History #Converse #MasterP
    Chuck goes hip hop. Master P was ahead of his time first to come from hip hop play in the NBA and have his own basketball shoe. In 1999 Converse sales were down and they used an unconventional route to boost their sales. They signed Percy Miller, giving him his own signature sneaker. Master P joined the Charlotte Hornets in 1999 and wore the Converse Smooth. The following year he joined the Raptors. #History #Converse #MasterP
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  • A piece of mafia history is back on the market. The Staten Island estate built by former Gambino crime family boss Paul Castellano has been listed for $18 million, easily the most expensive home currently for sale in New York City’s outer boroughs. Castellano, who led the Gambino organization from 1976 until his infamous assassination in 1985, commissioned the Todt Hill mansion in 1980 as a towering symbol of power. Today, the 33,000-square-foot residence still commands attention, perched atop the highest natural point on the Atlantic Coastal Plain between Florida and Cape Cod. The 8-bed, 17-bath estate features an array of over-the-top amenities, including a 13-car showroom, indoor and outdoor Olympic-sized pools, a commercial-grade kitchen, solarium, wood-paneled library, elevator, custom Italian fountains, and sweeping views of the Verrazzano Bridge.
    A piece of mafia history is back on the market. The Staten Island estate built by former Gambino crime family boss Paul Castellano has been listed for $18 million, easily the most expensive home currently for sale in New York City’s outer boroughs. Castellano, who led the Gambino organization from 1976 until his infamous assassination in 1985, commissioned the Todt Hill mansion in 1980 as a towering symbol of power. Today, the 33,000-square-foot residence still commands attention, perched atop the highest natural point on the Atlantic Coastal Plain between Florida and Cape Cod. The 8-bed, 17-bath estate features an array of over-the-top amenities, including a 13-car showroom, indoor and outdoor Olympic-sized pools, a commercial-grade kitchen, solarium, wood-paneled library, elevator, custom Italian fountains, and sweeping views of the Verrazzano Bridge.
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  • A Glimpse into the Hardships of Troup County Sharecroppers in 1930
    In a photograph taken around 1930, a powerful image captures a family of sharecroppers standing outside their one-room, cabin-style home in Troup County, Georgia. This evocative picture, now preserved in the National Archives, offers a window into the challenging living conditions faced by countless families in the rural South during the throes of the Great Depression. The modest structure, a cabin with simple wooden walls and a small porch, symbolizes the persistence and resilience of a lifestyle forged in hardship.
    During this period, sharecropping dominated the agricultural landscape of the American South. Under this system, landowners provided land, tools, and seeds to farmers, who, in return, agreed to cultivate the fields and share a portion of their harvest as payment. For many families like the one captured in this image, life was a constant balancing act. They were tied to land they did not own, eking out an existence on thin margins, and often finding themselves in cycles of debt and dependency.
    The expressions of the family members in this photograph are a study in strength and stoicism. Their clothing, simple and well-worn, and their postures speak of long days spent laboring under the Georgia sun. Yet, amidst the signs of weariness, there is a distinct air of determination and pride in their faces. Despite the hardships they faced, the family exudes a quiet dignity that underscores the perseverance required to navigate such trying circumstances.
    The one-room cabin that looms behind them, small yet sturdy, provides a glimpse of what home meant for sharecropping families. These homes, often hastily built and minimally equipped, were a far cry from comfort. Still, they served as a refuge and symbol of family solidarity, a place where life continued against all odds.
    Photographs like this one do more than merely document history; they tell the stories of the individuals who experienced it. The image of the Troup County family is a stark and vivid reminder of the impact the Great Depression had on rural communities. Beyond the statistics of economic downturns and market crashes lies the reality of everyday lives spent in quiet struggle and perseverance.
    A Glimpse into the Hardships of Troup County Sharecroppers in 1930 In a photograph taken around 1930, a powerful image captures a family of sharecroppers standing outside their one-room, cabin-style home in Troup County, Georgia. This evocative picture, now preserved in the National Archives, offers a window into the challenging living conditions faced by countless families in the rural South during the throes of the Great Depression. The modest structure, a cabin with simple wooden walls and a small porch, symbolizes the persistence and resilience of a lifestyle forged in hardship. During this period, sharecropping dominated the agricultural landscape of the American South. Under this system, landowners provided land, tools, and seeds to farmers, who, in return, agreed to cultivate the fields and share a portion of their harvest as payment. For many families like the one captured in this image, life was a constant balancing act. They were tied to land they did not own, eking out an existence on thin margins, and often finding themselves in cycles of debt and dependency. The expressions of the family members in this photograph are a study in strength and stoicism. Their clothing, simple and well-worn, and their postures speak of long days spent laboring under the Georgia sun. Yet, amidst the signs of weariness, there is a distinct air of determination and pride in their faces. Despite the hardships they faced, the family exudes a quiet dignity that underscores the perseverance required to navigate such trying circumstances. The one-room cabin that looms behind them, small yet sturdy, provides a glimpse of what home meant for sharecropping families. These homes, often hastily built and minimally equipped, were a far cry from comfort. Still, they served as a refuge and symbol of family solidarity, a place where life continued against all odds. Photographs like this one do more than merely document history; they tell the stories of the individuals who experienced it. The image of the Troup County family is a stark and vivid reminder of the impact the Great Depression had on rural communities. Beyond the statistics of economic downturns and market crashes lies the reality of everyday lives spent in quiet struggle and perseverance.
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  • A Glimpse into the Hardships of Troup County Sharecroppers in 1930
    In a photograph taken around 1930, a powerful image captures a family of sharecroppers standing outside their one-room, cabin-style home in Troup County, Georgia. This evocative picture, now preserved in the National Archives, offers a window into the challenging living conditions faced by countless families in the rural South during the throes of the Great Depression. The modest structure, a cabin with simple wooden walls and a small porch, symbolizes the persistence and resilience of a lifestyle forged in hardship.
    During this period, sharecropping dominated the agricultural landscape of the American South. Under this system, landowners provided land, tools, and seeds to farmers, who, in return, agreed to cultivate the fields and share a portion of their harvest as payment. For many families like the one captured in this image, life was a constant balancing act. They were tied to land they did not own, eking out an existence on thin margins, and often finding themselves in cycles of debt and dependency.
    The expressions of the family members in this photograph are a study in strength and stoicism. Their clothing, simple and well-worn, and their postures speak of long days spent laboring under the Georgia sun. Yet, amidst the signs of weariness, there is a distinct air of determination and pride in their faces. Despite the hardships they faced, the family exudes a quiet dignity that underscores the perseverance required to navigate such trying circumstances.
    The one-room cabin that looms behind them, small yet sturdy, provides a glimpse of what home meant for sharecropping families. These homes, often hastily built and minimally equipped, were a far cry from comfort. Still, they served as a refuge and symbol of family solidarity, a place where life continued against all odds.
    Photographs like this one do more than merely document history; they tell the stories of the individuals who experienced it. The image of the Troup County family is a stark and vivid reminder of the impact the Great Depression had on rural communities. Beyond the statistics of economic downturns and market crashes lies the reality of everyday lives spent in quiet struggle and perseverance.
    A Glimpse into the Hardships of Troup County Sharecroppers in 1930 In a photograph taken around 1930, a powerful image captures a family of sharecroppers standing outside their one-room, cabin-style home in Troup County, Georgia. This evocative picture, now preserved in the National Archives, offers a window into the challenging living conditions faced by countless families in the rural South during the throes of the Great Depression. The modest structure, a cabin with simple wooden walls and a small porch, symbolizes the persistence and resilience of a lifestyle forged in hardship. During this period, sharecropping dominated the agricultural landscape of the American South. Under this system, landowners provided land, tools, and seeds to farmers, who, in return, agreed to cultivate the fields and share a portion of their harvest as payment. For many families like the one captured in this image, life was a constant balancing act. They were tied to land they did not own, eking out an existence on thin margins, and often finding themselves in cycles of debt and dependency. The expressions of the family members in this photograph are a study in strength and stoicism. Their clothing, simple and well-worn, and their postures speak of long days spent laboring under the Georgia sun. Yet, amidst the signs of weariness, there is a distinct air of determination and pride in their faces. Despite the hardships they faced, the family exudes a quiet dignity that underscores the perseverance required to navigate such trying circumstances. The one-room cabin that looms behind them, small yet sturdy, provides a glimpse of what home meant for sharecropping families. These homes, often hastily built and minimally equipped, were a far cry from comfort. Still, they served as a refuge and symbol of family solidarity, a place where life continued against all odds. Photographs like this one do more than merely document history; they tell the stories of the individuals who experienced it. The image of the Troup County family is a stark and vivid reminder of the impact the Great Depression had on rural communities. Beyond the statistics of economic downturns and market crashes lies the reality of everyday lives spent in quiet struggle and perseverance.
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