济南治阳痿早泄的速效药(济南治疗的阳痿) (今日更新中)

LANCASTER, Ohio (AP) — When bread delivery men opened the door to a telephone booth one cold, January morning in 1954 and discovered a cooing baby, they had no idea how he got there.It would take 64 years and a DNA test for the mystery of "Little Boy Blue-eyes" to be solved.His once blue eyes have darkened to brown, but 64-year-old Phoenix resident Steve Dennis knows he was the approximately 2-month-old baby with no birth date, birth place or birth parents to be found.Instead, his birth certificate lists the place he was found that morning: a telephone booth outside Yielky's Drive-In on U.S. 22, a former restaurant just outside Lancaster's city limits. He was found wrapped in a blanket and tucked in a cardboard box for at least three or four hours before the bread delivery men saw something moving in the booth.For years Dennis didn't think the story was true. It was too far-fetched. He also never expected to learn the identity of his biological mother or the story leading up to being left in an Ohio phone booth. But he did, and he's meeting his biological mother later this month for the first time.Since Dennis was about three years old, he remembers his adoptive parents, Stanley and Vivian Dennis, telling him he was adopted."Luckily my parents told me early on that I was adopted, probably from the time I was three," he said. "Most of that really had no impact on me. You hear it so much, it doesn't faze you anymore."It wasn't until he was 15 or 16 when he heard the outlandish story about being discovered in a phone booth.At first police weren't sure if he was a kidnapping victim or if a passing motorist had left him there. Police settled on the latter when there were no subsequent reports of any child abductions. Still, they never found the baby's parents. The Eagle-Gazette published several articles describing the event, the first one stating "... the baby was lively, but very cold, and a full milk bottle was found beside the infant. The bottle was also cold. The baby's physical condition appeared to be good."After the first story published, dozens of people had expressed interest in either fostering or adopting the baby. Dennis was placed in a foster home and later adopted by the Dennis family in February 1955. They moved to Arizona where Dennis has resided ever since."When I was 18 or 19 I went to Lancaster to kind of get a look at it," Dennis said, adding that at the time, there wasn't much to find.He had let it go for years until his two daughters, ages 18 and 14 got him an Ancestry.com DNA test that determines ethnicity and can find genetic relatives. The results were returned in January, followed by a message from a man also using Ancestry.com, who was a genetic match to Dennis. This man, he learned, was his first cousin."He said 'I think I know who your mother is. We've heard throughout our lives that there's a baby that we're related to that was left in a telephone booth,'" Dennis recalled. "It was this like this hidden secret."Dennis' cousin connected him to Dennis' half-sister, who lives in Baltimore, Maryland. Growing up, his sister said had also heard the story."This deep dark secret of my biological mother, the kids had heard about this, but they weren't sure if it's true or not," he said. To check the story his sister got her own DNA test, confirming the match.From there, Dennis' sister contacted their mother, who also lives in Baltimore."The mother has finally said she wants to meet with me," Dennis said. "Slowly week by week, she said 'I kind of remember.'"He was told his mother was 18 and coerced to give him up by his father, saying he'd marry her if they left the baby. The couple was traveling through Ohio from Kentucky, where he was born in a hospital. They were on their way back to Maryland when the father took the baby and left him in a phone booth. After that, the father disappeared.He has no further history of his father. His mother, now in her 80s, married someone else and has two daughters.With or without further details about his unstable beginning, Dennis said he's had a good life. He was in the Peace Corps, traveled extensively and married Maria, his wife of 22 years. They had two children and Dennis recently retired from his profession as a chiropractor.Later this month, Dennis is traveling to Maryland to meet his mother and half-sister for the first time."It's interesting. It's not like earth shattering or anything like that," Dennis said. "My true parents, of course, were my adoptive parents. It would be almost impossible for me to think otherwise."Dennis isn't sure what the meeting with his mother or sister will bring, but he hopes to connect with them.While Dennis would like to know more information about his early life, he said he won't press his mother for details."I'd like to know my actual birth date but, according to my sister, the mother said she doesn't remember," he said. "I'm not going to make a real big deal about this. I'll just take whatever she gives me and leave it at that. I mean you can't hassle an 85-year-old woman . So whatever she feels comfortable saying to me, I'll take. It's more than I had before." 5157

LAKEWOOD, Colo. – Cereal lovers may want to take a good look at the expiration dates on their groceries after this story.A Lakewood, Colorado family bought a box of Quaker 100% Natural Granola cereal from a Littleton Walmart on Monday. It was the Quaker cereal with oats, honey and raisins.It wasn’t until the Carelse’s sat down for a serving that any of them realized something was terribly wrong.“It looks like February 22, 1997,” Anthea Carelse said, pointing to the box’s printed “best by” date. The box appears to date back 21 years.TRENDING: Florida Senate OKs bill for year-round Daylight Saving Time“I had about two bites, and that was it,” she continued.Her husband, Josiah Carelse ate a full bowl.“I just started eating and thinking, 'it just tastes funny. It must be OK,'” he said.Of course, Anthea told him, “I was like, ‘Josiah, you’re going to be really sick.’”Fortunately, he said he's feeling fine and has plans to return the expired box back to Walmart.To put this into perspective here’s a very short list of what life was like back in 1997: 1082

Las Vegas’ entertainment industry is uniting in unprecedented fashion in support of the victims of the October 1 tragedy.  On Dec. 1 at 7:30 p.m., T-Mobile Arena will host the Vegas Strong Benefit Concert, a special evening of entertainment featuring Boyz II Men, Cirque du Soleil, David Copperfield, Imagine Dragons, Penn & Teller, The Killers, and others soon to be announced.  Proceeds from the event will benefit the Las Vegas Victims Fund.Tickets ranging from - 5 go on sale tomorrow, Nov. 8, at 10 a.m. and will be available online at www.AXS.com or by calling the AXS Call Center at 888.929.7849.  Here's a look at some of the acts scheduled to perform.Boyz II Men 705

LA MESA, Calif. (CNS) - A woman who was hospitalized after being shot with a beanbag projectile during a protest in La Mesa has filed court papers seeking to force the La Mesa Police Department to release the involved officer's name.The petition asks that a San Diego Superior Court judge order the city of La Mesa and the police department to produce the name of the officer who fired a beanbag projectile at 59-year-old Leslie Furcron on the night of May 30.The department has not released the officer's name, though La Mesa police Chief Walt Vasquez issued a statement earlier this month assuring Furcron, "her family and the public that this unfortunate incident will be fully investigated, to include an in-depth look at our crowd control practices."The city and police department could not immediately be reached for comment on the petition filed Friday.Furcron was outside LMPD headquarters with a crowd of fellow protesters demonstrating against police brutality when she was struck in the forehead by what her attorney, Dante Pride, described as a "flying blackjack" and a "metal projectile bean bag," leaving her hospitalized in an intensive- care unit in a medically induced coma.The petition states that Furcron suffered "multiple facial fractures," has not yet regained sight in her left eye, and "will face a lifetime of recovery from the injuries."The petition alleges the La Mesa Police Department declined to disclose records that included the officer's name following a California Public Records Act request from Furcron's attorneys, citing an ongoing investigation and findings that releasing the name could endanger the officer's safety.The petitioner argues that courts have held that releasing officer names in such instances "is in the best interest of justice." It also states that Furcron's "right to pursue justice for the violence committed against her" outweighs the officer's fears and that the department has not provided "any evidence of threats from the public to corroborate the officer's fears."Pride and Furcron's family have publicly stated that they want the officer to be identified, fired and criminally charged. 2159

LINCOLN PARK (KGTV) - Women received free mammograms in Lincoln Park on Sunday.Doctors use a mammogram to look for early signs of breast cancer. The free screenings were available because of Susan G. Komen San Diego. The non-profit parked a mobile screening center in front of City of Hope International Church on Holly Drive. More than two dozen women received mammograms. "It's very important for women to get mammograms because early detection is the best protection, and when breast cancer is caught in its early stage, it's basically 99% treatable," said Wendy Shurelds with Susan G. Komen San Diego.Sunday's screening is one of many. The next screening will be Friday, October 26th at Northgate Market on University Avenue. 767

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