The author dives to the wreck of the Mohawk, where his uncle died in 1935.

Rethinking Hannah Arendt’s Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil.

On the problems in “Dr. V’s Magical Putter.”

The stories of the 109 black men who have played quarterback in the NFL, from Fritz Pollard to Russell Wilson.

A tale of ambition, motherhood and political mythmaking in the race for governor of Texas.

An essay on BR Ambedkar, Mahatma Gandhi and the battle against caste in India.

How a group of vigilante cat-lovers seeking the hooded figure who suffocated a kitten in an internet video found a sadistic killer.

The mysterious death of Alfred Wright in the shadow of a town’s history of racial violence.

A story written about Twitter and one its founders, Evan Williams, when the company’s chief source of revenue was subletting desks in their partially filled office.

In 1960, beer heir Adolph Coors III was kidnapped and murdered. A look back at the crime and the man who committed it.

On Sebastian Junger’s War and the documentary Restrepo by Tim Hetherington, who was killed in Libya yesterday.

Henry Luce and Time vs. Harold Ross and The New Yorker. What was at stake in the epic magazine rivalry of the 20th century?

A study of the Mississippi River, its history, and efforts by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to hold it in place.

As the head of the CBF, Ricardo Teixera rules Brazilian futebol from the top down, controlling everything from the value of championships to broadcast rights. He needs the pull off a flawless 2014 World Cup in order to set the stage for being elected FIFA’s president, but there’s one hitch; the trail of bribes and scandals he has left in his wake.

Whenever you want him to go on the record, Teixeira shushes you and raises a finger to his lips.  He addresses men and women alike as “meu amor,” with an exaggerated Rio accent. “Meu amor, it’s all been said about me – that I smuggled goods in the Brazilian national team’s airplane, that there’s been dirty dealing in the World Cup, all those investigations into Nike and the CBF."

Translated from the original Portugese.

Living with grief and gult in the aftermath of the worst car accident in Westchester County in 75 years:

For 1.7 miles, Diane, 36, drove a minivan stuffed with kids the wrong way on the Taconic State Parkway, finally colliding head-on with an SUV. Diane hadn’t even braked. Passing drivers said she stared straight ahead, her expression serene and oblivious, her hands at ten and two on the steering wheel. Eight people died, including Diane, their daughter, their three nieces, and all three people in the oncoming SUV. Toxicology reports later established Diane’s blood alcohol level at .19 percent, more than twice the legal limit. On the way home from a weekend camping trip, Danny’s wife appeared to have guzzled ten shots worth of alcohol and, the report said, smoked marijuana within the hour.

The anatomy of a 1930 epidemic that wasn’t:

Was parrot fever really something to worry about? Reading the newspaper, it was hard to say. “not contagious in man,” the Times announced. “Highly contagious,” the Washington Post said. Who knew? Nobody had ever heard of it before. It lurked in American homes. It came from afar. It was invisible. It might kill you. It made a very good story. In the late hours of January 8th, editors at the Los Angeles Times decided to put it on the front page: “two women and man in Annapolis believed to have 'parrot fever.'"

On the battle between Shaquille O’Neal and his former IT guy, who’s in control of much of O’Neal’s archived (and often damning) correspondence.

How a major American company helped bring Charles Taylor to power in Liberia.

Spending time with the residents of K6G, the only gay wing in the entire American penal system.

A holiday tradition in the Netherlands involving blackface has sparked a debate about race, the legacy of slavery, and the vestiges of colonialism.

Creating, and then attempting to dismantle, a fake persona based on a man who died in 1984.

Noah Lennox—better known as Panda Bear—has lived in Lisbon for a decade. How has the Portuguese capital shaped his life and work?

The water’s nearly gone in the San Joaquin Valley, and an old farmer sees the writing on the wall.

A 58-year-old diabetic and his team of amateur rugby players attempt to qualify for the 1984 Summer Olympics in rowing.

People have been having fun with nitrous oxide—often in the name of science—since its discovery more than 240 years ago.