Acasa InternationalExterne Inca 5 secunde si avionul presedintelui polonez ar fi fost salvat

Inca 5 secunde si avionul presedintelui polonez ar fi fost salvat

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Investigatiile privind prabusirea avionului prezidential al Poloniei la Smolensk au aratat ca avionul ar fi putut fi salvat, dar, pentru aceasta, mai avea nevoie de cateva secunde, scrie Pravda.ru.


Expertii au explicat ca, pentru a ajunge la modul de decolare instantaneu, avionul Tu-154 are nevoie de aproximativ zece secunde. Conform inregistrarilor, comandantul aeronavei si-a dat seama prea tarziu ca avionul se afla foarte aproape de sol. In acel moment pilotul a incerca sa-l redreseze, dar avionul a reusit sa recupereze doar 60% din puterea necesara. De asemenea, trecerea in modul de decolare ar fi crescut semnificativ sansele echipajului de a evita catastrofa, relateaza Pravda.ru. Astfel, ar fi fost nevoie de inca cinci secunde pentru a evita prabusirea avionului. Imediat ce comandantul echipajului a inteles ca planarea era imposibila si ca va avea loc un impact cu solul, el a incercat o „aterizare dura”. Insa si aceasta tentativa a esuat, dupa ce avionul a lovit un copac, iar o treime din aripa s-a detasat, avionul a lovit solul cu coada si a inceput sa se invarta in jurul axei sale. Motoarele s-au desprins, iar avionul s-a dezintegrat si a luat foc. Premierul Tusk a precizat ca, din momentul in care a avut loc tragedia, rusii a colaborat foarte bine cu partea poloneza. „Nu avem nici un motiv sa spunem ca partea rusa ingreuneaza in vreun fel mersul anchetei”, a afirmat Donald Tusk.

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un crestin 08-04-2010 - 03:56

The Legend Behind the Praying Hands

Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood.

Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder’s children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.

After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring in the mines.

They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg. Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht’s etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.

un crestin 08-04-2010 - 04:01

When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht’s triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to honor his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were, „And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you.”

All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, „No …no …no …no.”

Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, „No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look … look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother … for me it is too late.”

un crestin 08-04-2010 - 04:02

More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer’s hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer’s works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.

One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother’s abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply „Hands,” but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love „The Praying Hands.”

The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one–no one–ever makes it alone!

Quoted from: „A Better Way To Live” by Og Mandino

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