Recalls On Refrigerators - Refrigerator Freezer On Top - Defrosting The Refrigerator.
Recalls On Refrigerators
- (Refrigerator (horse)) Refrigerator was an Appendix Quarter horse racehorse who won the Champions of Champions race three times. He was a 1988 bay gelding sired by Rare Jet and out of Native Parr.
- An appliance or compartment that is artificially kept cool and used to store food and drink. Modern refrigerators generally make use of the cooling effect produced when a volatile liquid is forced to evaporate in a sealed system in which it can be condensed back to liquid outside the refrigerator
- A refrigerator is a cooling apparatus. The common household appliance (often called a "fridge" for short) comprises a thermally insulated compartment and a heat pump—chemical or mechanical means—to transfer heat from it to the external environment (i.e.
- (refrigerator) white goods in which food can be stored at low temperatures
- (recall) a call to return; "the recall of our ambassador"
- remember: recall knowledge from memory; have a recollection; "I can't remember saying any such thing"; "I can't think what her last name was"; "can you remember her phone number?"; "Do you remember that he once loved you?"; "call up memories"
- Cause one to remember or think of
- (recall) a request by the manufacturer of a defective product to return the product (as for replacement or repair)
- Bring (a fact, event, or situation) back into one's mind, esp. so as to recount it to others; remember
- Bring the memory or thought of someone or something to (a person or their mind)
Idi amin story and his cook
HE was President Idi Amin's head cook but also served other presidents. Otonde Odera has a riveting story of leaving Naguru death chambers alive but he also has tales of his life as a presidential chef over the years,former president's refrigerator and that the former head of state never ate body parts.
Otonde Odera, now aged 70, struggles to hold back tears as he recalls the four nights of terror he spent staring at death in the drab Naguru police station cells outside Kampala.
“To my shock and disbelief, mean-faced soldiers stormed my house one fateful night, yanked me away from my terrified family and frog-marched me to a waiting vehicle, even as my wife screamed frantically. I was under arrest for planning to kill the President, they croaked.
“After a hellish drive to the unknown, I was tossed like something unwanted into a dark cell full of people waiting to die for various cooked-up offences against the state. The killers, all towering brutes drawn from Amin’s Kakwa tribe, used bludgeons and machetes to finish off the hapless prisoners who numbered in their hundreds.
As the prisoners fell one after the other, the killers would say in Kiswahili: tangulia tutakutana kwa Mungu (go ahead, we shall meet in God’s dominion).
Otonde re-lives the four nights of horror during which he waited for a weapon to strike him on the nape of his neck, sending him to embrace his ancestors. “On the fourth night, I heard someone shout ‘Wapi Otonde? (Where is Otonde?)’ and I mumbled the last prayers to my creator as my entire body went numb. With my eyes tightly closed for the anticipated final moment, I was suddenly grabbed and hustled into a waiting police 999 car that immediately sped away towards State House. I sat dazed in a stupor.
“My wife and children were there, waiting. She was apparently my saviour, having cried all along that I was innocent and could not harm the president I so dearly loved. We were put into a lorry and driven to the Kenya/Uganda border at Busia. The air of freedom flowed into my lungs as soon as I was safely on Kenyan soil and all the way to Asembo, my rural home.
Otonde says he had thoroughly enjoyed his work under ldi Amin until some envious people poisoned the President’s mind with lies that he intended to kill him.
“He trusted me to cook for him after the ouster of Dr. Milton Obote for whom I had cooked since 1962,” says Otonde.
“Amin was a better boss — warm to his employees and generous with his money.” Obote was reserved and mean,” he concludes, an air of finality accompanying his words.
As though reading the question in my mind, Otonde adds: “Amin ate normal food and preferred pilau — rice cooked with spices in a style popular with Muslims. He relished Muslim food.” Tickled, I blurt out: “You mean, his refrigerator contained only ordinary foods? No human liver, spleen or heads as is generally rumoured?
Otonde smothers my curiosity with a crackling laugh. “Take it from me that Amin was never a cannibal. I took care of his kitchen and refrigerator for years. There was nothing strange. Maybe people thought he ate body parts because of the many killings he ordered, including those of two of his wives, Norah and Kay. I have told you of my narrow escape. Not that he intended to eat me. He never ate human flesh.”
It is also important to note that Amin was a practising Muslim and hence a teetotaller. He loved fun and relished dancing. He married Madina because of her dancing skills. But it was Obote whom Otonde served longest. “He was a bachelor when he took me as a cook. Another of his employees, called Joseph Odongo, who hailed from Gem in Siaya District and had liked my cooking, introduced me to him.
“His wife, Miria, came into his life after I had been with him for a while. I was his cook when, with Amin’s help, he successfully flushed the Kabaka, Sir Edward Muteesa out of Mengo and into exile and declared himself President of the Republic of Uganda. My fortunes changed with the revolution. A sleek Mercedes Benz car was immediately assigned to me, because I was the President’s cook. Miria’s arrival at State House certainly had an impact on Obote’s trusted head cook.
Otonde, with a wry grin says, “She was jittery about Obote’s liking for me, fearing that it would interfere with her influence. She actually attempted to have me shoved aside for a person of her choice, but Obote learnt about her machinations and foiled the attempt. I remained pretty secure in my position.”
Otonde, who had learnt how to drive while in Uganda, managed to secure a job with Kenya’s National Housing Corporation (NHC) after he was thrown out by Amin. “After a stint without a job, I was hired to drive then NHC managing director Samuel Ayany. But, as fate would have it, Obote returned to power in 1980 following the brief regimes of Yusuf Lule, Godfrey Binaisa and Paulo Muwanga. No sooner was he at State House than Obote sent word that he wanted me back.
Officer Paul Carrol Teel - Riverside PD
Slain policeman's family, friend recall his boyhood, his easy grin SUNNYMEAD – He wouldn’t have wanted all the fanfare, the parents of Paul Carrol Teel said Tuesday after the funeral of their 25-year-old policeman son who was shot to death from ambush Friday. W.B. “Dub” and Velma Teel said, “He would have blushed in embarrassment – the funeral, all they did – but he would have been pleased to see it for someone else.” Paul and his partner, Leonard Christiansen, were shot to death when they answered a call. Four suspects are being sought. The Teels and many relatives, friends and neighbors had just returned from the funeral in Riverside that was attended by about 1,500 persons. With them were Callie, Paul’s wife, and his best friend, Officer Paul Harding. They wanted to talk about Paul, whom the Teels and Callie had always called Carrol and still do. It was not until he joined the Riverside Police Department in August, 1966, that others began calling him Paul. At first, it was difficult talking about Carrol, but gradually they found they could smile as they recalled his youth. His youngest son was born July 20, 1945, in Ft. Worth, Texas, Teel said. “He was such a fine boy – always a smile. He had so many friends – all kinds of people liked him,” his father said. The others agreed. The Teels, both teachers, moved to a small Texas town to teach school. They were the only teachers so they taught their two sons – David is the older – at home and at school. “The boys had guns and they used to hunt,” Dub said. “Mostly jackrabbits,” said Mrs. Teel. When they ran out of grades for the boys at the school in Texas the Teels moved to Sunnymead. That was in 1956. “Carrol went to Edgemont School for a year. He won a $5 prize for this American Legion Americanism essay." And he won $5 from the PTA for suggesting a name for their paper, the EPTA Echo. "They don’t have the paper anymore," said Mrs. Teel, who teaches first grade there. Callie was in school there at the time, but they scarcely knew each other. “Last year, he came and talked to my class.” Carrol went to University Heights Junior High School and then Poly High (there were only two elementary schools in Moreno Valley at that time). Since he had to ride the bus to and from school he couldn’t take part in extra-curricular activities. “But he worked. First he delivered the Daily Enterprise. He won a trophy for 15 months of perfect service,” Dub said. “And he never missed a day of work, no matter what his job was,” his mother was proud to add. “He played in Little League all the way through, and after that he played in a church league. He won the trophy for sportsmanship,” Dub said. “That’s where I met him and we started going together,” Callie added. Her maiden name was Cross and her home was in Edgemont. She was 14 and he was 16. They dated for two years and then were married May 1, 1964. “I remember how he told about his mother’s new bed and he wasn’t supposed to sit on it, so when no one was home he’d go into the bedroom and lie down on it,” Callie said. “He used his bike to deliver papers and when he was old enough to drive a car he never rode the bike again. He liked to work on cars,” his father said. “He was such a good driver that when he went to the northwest on a trip and he drove, Velma wouldn’t let me drive again,” he said. “Through the mountains,” she added. “Remember how he liked to eat honey and it upset him when you put it in the refrigerator?” Dub asked his wife. They gave him some honey in a bee-shaped container and they still have this memento. “It almost fell off the shelf during the earthquake.” “He loved maraschino cherries and he used to pick them off everyone’s sundaes and one time he ate a whole bottle of them and got sick,” Callie recalled. “He had so many friends – always had some place to go,” his father said. “He likes to work. He worked at Eggers Ranch up on Perris Boulevard for three years. He wanted to buy everything for himself,” Dub said, “but sometimes I’d get him a pair of Levis.” After he was graduated from high school in 1963 Carrol went to work for the University of California, Riverside, experimental farm in Moreno Valley. He did a variety of things there and “sometimes came home pretty dirty. But he never missed a day.” “He was taking classes at the Sheriff’s Academy and was in the top five in his class,” his mother said. “You know, all the men on his father’s side are ministers, missionaries or teachers,” Mrs. Teel said. “His uncle in Argentina phoned us an hour before the funeral.” “His grandparents live in Texas, Mr. and Mrs. I.G. Hollingsworth,” she added. “We played poker together a lot,” said Pete Harding, Carrol’s best friend. Callie said Carrol had wanted a motorcycle for two years and she’d finally agreed. “He came home early Friday with the check to buy it and he was going to get it Saturday.” “We were going to go riding on Saturday,” said Pete. Pete added, “How ca