Trying to Save Russia's Punch Line of a Car - New York Times

Russians ridicule but also cherish their endangered Ladas. So the Kremlin recruited a blunt Swedish-American executive with long experience in Detroit to overhaul their maker.

By NEIL MacFARQUHAR

December 21, 2014

TOGLIATTI, Russia — Ladas are the family cars that Russians love to hate.

Loathed as outmoded rattletraps, they have long inspired more punch lines than passion: How many people does it take to drive a Lada? Four; one to steer and three to push.

Conversely, Russians cherish Ladas as the last major Soviet car brand still produced from scratch. Of the estimated 40 million cars in Russia, more than one-third are Ladas, and the Granta, a small sedan, outsells every other car.

Yet they are endangered. The company's market share diminished steadily after the Soviet Union collapsed, dropping to 17 percent from 70 percent. Long before the recent oil price collapse pummeled Russia's economy, the Kremlin decided Lada needed rescuing.

Bo Inge Andersson, company president, during a management meeting on the shop floor in Togliatti.

It recruited Bo Inge Andersson, a blunt Swedish-American executive with long experience in Detroit, to overhaul Avtovaz, Lada's corporate parent and a signature Russian industrial company.

"The biggest focus for us is to bring back the pride in Lada," Mr. Andersson, 59, said during what seemed like a speed-walking race here through one of the world's largest auto plants.

President Vladimir V. Putin has repeatedly said this month that Western sanctions mean Russia has to go it alone. So resurrecting Avtovaz is a parable for changes needed by all Russian manufacturing. It is not quite "As Avtovaz goes, so goes the nation," but close.

"It is a problem that the entire country faces," said Aleksey Y. Buzinny, deputy mayor of Togliatti, a city of 719,000 that earns one-quarter of its taxes via the factory. "We are very good at selling raw materials; we are not so good at producing and selling quality finished goods. We grew a little too complacent when oil and gas prices soared, why care about anything else?"

The production line.

After Mr. Andersson arrived last January, Togliatti, the most famous Russian car town, lauded his hands-on approach. A former army major, he inspected the factory toilets. He dressed managers in gray "Andersson jackets," meant to inspire teamwork. He introduced himself to workers.

He pioneered novel concepts like customer service. A dealer survey found the standard response to complaints had long been, "What do you expect, it's a Lada?" Mr. Andersson said. He hired a company to scan social media for negative comments and the new customer service department responded.

"He is a tough guy, but quite open," said Yuri K. Tselikov, 74, a retired Avtovaz worker and local gadfly. "He fought for cleanliness everywhere."

Grudging respect soured into resentment after Mr. Andersson cut 20 percent of the work force — about 13,400 jobs — revamped manufacturing methods and initiated a showdown with Russian parts suppliers that interrupted production. His methods generated suspicion. "He wants to gradually squeeze Lada out of the market," Mr. Tselikov said.

Yuri K. Tselikov, 74, a retired autoworker and critic who says Mr. Andersson "wants to gradually squeeze Lada out of the market."

Mr. Andersson also eliminated the automatic annual raise, instead trying to combat chronic, 10 percent absenteeism by awarding an extra month's pay to the 4,397 workers with perfect attendance.

"Togliatti seems to be the last piece of Russia that is still a piece of the Soviet Union," he said, noting repeatedly that the concept of profit and loss was alien. The first Lada, built in 1970, was a joint venture with Fiat — an even more spartan version of the bare-bones Fiat 124. Russia named the town after Palmiro Togliatti, the longtime Italian Communist Party leader.

Residents are still discussing web reports published months ago that listed Mr. Andersson's salary among the highest in Russia at $10 million in rubles annually. That is a yawning gap with the average 26,000 rubles or $441 workers earn each month. (The ruble has lost some 45 percent of its value against the dollar this year.)

Mr. Andersson did not want his salary published. But he shared one paycheck stub that showed far less than the reported amount and was certainly modest by Detroit standards. His contract's profit-sharing clause, however, could bring a significant payout, he said.

Models, balloons and strings at the launching in Togliatti last month of a new 1.8-liter engine for the Lada Priora, a compact.

Some in Togliatti now deride him as a carpetbagger, an undertaker and "Hans Christian Andersen," the Danish spinner of fairy tales.

Mr. Andersson monitors the criticism, but said that the government, including President Putin in person, endorsed his plan. The town fathers, the official union and some workers support him as well. He also has two bodyguards.

This is not the first effort to fundamentally alter Lada. The previous attempt, after the 2008 financial crisis, ended the Soviet-era, cradle-to-grave welfare system whereby the factory staffed hospitals and schools and provided apartments. Street protests halted any further cutbacks — the Kremlin evidently fearful about unrest spreading elsewhere.

Piotr A. Zolotaryov, head of a 300-member independent union, called the current tension a classic worker-management dispute over job security and wages. Many also resent that Mr. Andersson is foreign, he acknowledged in an interview at the union offices.

Russians tend to recall every historical slight, and on cue a union member nearby groused, "He seeks to avenge the Battle of Poltava!" — when Russian forces crushed an attempt by King Charles XII of Sweden to conquer Moscow in 1709.

Street demonstrations this time fizzled. Given the economy, people are worried about survival, Mr. Zolotaryov said.

Mr. Andersson's task could hardly have come at a worse moment as relations between Russia and the West have suffered their sharpest deterioration since the Cold War and the economy foundered. Small car sales sank this year, while luxury imports recently surged as wealthy Russians tried to salvage any value from the collapsing ruble.

Mr. Andersson began his car career at Saab, then moved to Detroit in 1993, rising to vice president for purchasing at General Motors, with an annual $125 billion budget. He became an American citizen in 2008.

After G.M. emerged from its financial crisis, Mr. Andersson decided nothing bigger lay ahead in America. He accepted an offer from a Russian oligarch, Oleg Deripaska, to rebuild the GAZ Group, Russia's largest manufacturer of light commercial vehicles, headquartered in Nizhny Novgorod.

On June 19, 2009, he was in Detroit. On June 20, he started work in Nizhny Novgorod.

Mr. Andersson dismissed 50,000 workers, introduced new vehicles and forged joint assembly ventures with Volkswagen, G.M., Skoda and Daimler. The company, after losing $1 billion in 2008, became profitable. He got a profit-sharing clause there, too.

The Russian government recruited him to run Avtovaz, which lost more than $500 million last year, Mr. Andersson said. Renault-Nissan and the government jointly own almost 75 percent of Avtovaz, with the remaining shares public.

It was a big switch. Nizhny Novgorod is a large, historic, university city. Togliatti is a flat landscape of squat apartment blocks, relieved only by an 11-mile stretch of the Volga River.

Mr. Andersson gathers his Russian, French and Japanese managers on the factory floor every morning at 6:45, 15 minutes before the workers. The plant, covering 1,630 acres, includes five car production lines and six component factories, churning out 11 car models.

Production charts indicate that quality has improved, but remains uneven. Mr. Andersson grilled his executives about complaints found on the web, like noisy gearboxes. (Top Gear, the British TV show, once compared the Lada transmission sound to a tin tray full of teacups and called the brand "the lowest form of motoring life.") He forced all company executives to drive Ladas.

As he strides through any workshop, his eyes sweep the floor, and his entourage cringes whenever he reaches down. At one point on the tour he tossed a loose metal ring at a manager.

"Managers don't like it because they felt like he was embarrassing them in front of the workers," Mr. Tselikov said.

Productivity doubled this year to 40 vehicles per worker, Mr. Andersson said. His goal is 60. Lada model changes so far have been "lipstick on a pig," he said, but a new, Russian-designed car line is due next fall.

Mr. Andersson described his "last battle" as pushing component producers, some government-owned, to deliver quality parts on time at competitive prices.

In Togliatti, views about the factory tend to split along generational lines. The older generation misses the paternal factory and the days when Russians happily bought any car they could find. Residents born after the Soviet Union's 1991 collapse want modern, reliable and affordable Ladas.

Mr. Andersson's real last battle might be changing Russian perceptions.

A few years ago, a bittersweet song about the original Lada said it took a "real man" to drive one. The lyrics cataloged its shortcomings, saying no driver bothers with the blinkers, for example, because he "never really knows where his car will turn."

Throughout the video, the camera focused periodically on a typically Russian man seemingly highway cruising, but as the camera pulled back, it revealed that the car was actually moving atop a tow truck.

Correction: December 22, 2014

An earlier version of this article misidentified the company Bo Inge Andersson was recruited to run. It is the GAZ Group, not Avtovaz.

Nikolai Khalip contributed reporting from Togliatti, and Alexandra Odynova from Moscow.

Source : http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/22/world/trying-to-save-russias-punch-line-of-a-car.html

Car Collectors Around The World Have Been Waiting Decades Fo... - Business Insider

© AFP/File Yamil LageOld American cars are seen on a street in Havana, Cuba, on December 19, 2014

Havana (AFP) - Cuba's iconic stock of refurbished vintage American sedans from the 1950s may be facing their last trips to the garage soon, following the historic thawing of ties between Havana and Washington.

Flashy Pontiacs, Plymouths, Dodges and Chevrolets, as well as crudely patched and rickety classics make up the Communist island's 70,000 "almendrones," cars affectionately called large almonds for their rounded shape.

Fancier classic models are rented for special occasions while their more rundown counterparts are driven as taxis and by families.

But they all have one thing in common: they survived the Cuban Revolution, the Cold War, and the collapse of the Soviet Union.

The almendrones owe their lasting nature to the master skills of local mechanics, as well as to the American embargo and Cuban authorities who put the brakes on replenishing the the island's stock of cars.

Purchasing and selling the vehicles, which has only been allowed for the past three years, is only permitted for Cubans.

- 'Puts food on table' -

The easing of the five-decade US trade embargo, one part of the rapprochement announced Wednesday, is likely to awaken the attention and desire of car connoisseurs worldwide, who are eager to snatch up the classic models.

"You would have to pay me good money to sell my car," Aramis Carmona, 40, told AFP, watching tourists from his white and red 1953 Chevy with hubcaps and a chrome bumper.

"It puts food on the table," the amateur mechanic said. "When I have a little money, I buy motor oil instead of cooking oil, because I know that that will help me feed my family."

He said he had given new life to the "wreck" he bought ten years ago for $7,000.

During the Revolution, Fidel rode around in an Oldsmobile with guns hidden in the seat. Ernesto "Che" Guevara went for rides, cigar in mouth, at the wheel of a Studebaker.

This was before Cuba decided to swap its Western cars for more "revolutionary" vehicles, like the famous Russian GAZ-69 jeep adopted by "El Comandante" Castro.

- Never blotted out -

In the 1960s and 1970s, Peugeot 404s made in Argentina, then Czech Skodas and Soviet Ladas tried to take over the road but with limited success, as the vintage American models kept passing from hand to hand.

Peugeots and Chinese models appeared on Cuban roads in the 1990s and 2000s, but they, too, never overpowered the omnipresent American classics.

However, few original parts remain under the cars' hoods after numerous patchups from crack mechanics who have brought them back from the dead multiple times.

Carmona said that he replaced his Chevy's original motor four years ago with a BMW diesel model that consumed far less fuel. The original went only 6 kilometers per liter (14 miles per gallon).

British architect Norman Foster, struck by the cars' looks and upkeep during a recent trip to Cuba, paid tribute in the book "Havana: Autos and Architecture," where he describes a tight relationship between the island's history and its vehicles.

He tells of Ruben Hernandez, who in 1951 bought a Buick Super Dynaflow. In 1959, his family's belongings were confiscated in the Cuban Revolution, but Hernandez managed to save the car. 

The collector's item now belongs to his youngest son William Hernandez, who inherited it in 1989.

Since then, he's taken it every day to display alongside other flashy cars at Havana's tourist hot spots. For $25 per hour, he offers passersby a ride back in time, in a vehicle whose days may now be limited.

More from AFP:

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• Liverpool on track for top four, says Rodgers

Source : http://www.businessinsider.com/afp-us-cuba-thaw-could-spell-end-for-islands-iconic-cars-2014-12

Trying to Save Russia's Punch Line of a Car - New York Times

Russians ridicule but also cherish their endangered Ladas. So the Kremlin recruited a blunt Swedish-American executive with long experience in Detroit to overhaul their maker.

By NEIL MacFARQUHAR

December 21, 2014

TOGLIATTI, Russia — Ladas are the family cars that Russians love to hate.

Loathed as outmoded rattletraps, they have long inspired more punch lines than passion: How many people does it take to drive a Lada? Four; one to steer and three to push.

Conversely, Russians cherish Ladas as the last major Soviet car brand still produced from scratch. Of the estimated 40 million cars in Russia, more than one-third are Ladas, and the Granta, a small sedan, outsells every other car.

Yet they are endangered. The company's market share diminished steadily after the Soviet Union collapsed, dropping to 17 percent from 70 percent. Long before the recent oil price collapse pummeled Russia's economy, the Kremlin decided Lada needed rescuing.

Bo Inge Andersson, company president, during a management meeting on the shop floor in Togliatti.

It recruited Bo Inge Andersson, a blunt Swedish-American executive with long experience in Detroit, to overhaul Avtovaz, Lada's corporate parent and a signature Russian industrial company.

"The biggest focus for us is to bring back the pride in Lada," Mr. Andersson, 59, said during what seemed like a speed-walking race here through one of the world's largest auto plants.

President Vladimir V. Putin has repeatedly said this month that Western sanctions mean Russia has to go it alone. So resurrecting Avtovaz is a parable for changes needed by all Russian manufacturing. It is not quite "As Avtovaz goes, so goes the nation," but close.

"It is a problem that the entire country faces," said Aleksey Y. Buzinny, deputy mayor of Togliatti, a city of 719,000 that earns one-quarter of its taxes via the factory. "We are very good at selling raw materials; we are not so good at producing and selling quality finished goods. We grew a little too complacent when oil and gas prices soared, why care about anything else?"

The production line.

After Mr. Andersson arrived last January, Togliatti, the most famous Russian car town, lauded his hands-on approach. A former army major, he inspected the factory toilets. He dressed managers in gray "Andersson jackets," meant to inspire teamwork. He introduced himself to workers.

He pioneered novel concepts like customer service. A dealer survey found the standard response to complaints had long been, "What do you expect, it's a Lada?" Mr. Andersson said. He hired a company to scan social media for negative comments and the new customer service department responded.

"He is a tough guy, but quite open," said Yuri K. Tselikov, 74, a retired Avtovaz worker and local gadfly. "He fought for cleanliness everywhere."

Grudging respect soured into resentment after Mr. Andersson cut 20 percent of the work force — about 13,400 jobs — revamped manufacturing methods and initiated a showdown with Russian parts suppliers that interrupted production. His methods generated suspicion. "He wants to gradually squeeze Lada out of the market," Mr. Tselikov said.

Yuri K. Tselikov, 74, a retired autoworker and critic who says Mr. Andersson "wants to gradually squeeze Lada out of the market."

Mr. Andersson also eliminated the automatic annual raise, instead trying to combat chronic, 10 percent absenteeism by awarding an extra month's pay to the 4,397 workers with perfect attendance.

"Togliatti seems to be the last piece of Russia that is still a piece of the Soviet Union," he said, noting repeatedly that the concept of profit and loss was alien. The first Lada, built in 1970, was a joint venture with Fiat — an even more spartan version of the bare-bones Fiat 124. Russia named the town after Palmiro Togliatti, the longtime Italian Communist Party leader.

Residents are still discussing web reports published months ago that listed Mr. Andersson's salary among the highest in Russia at $10 million in rubles annually. That is a yawning gap with the average 26,000 rubles or $441 workers earn each month. (The ruble has lost some 45 percent of its value against the dollar this year.)

Mr. Andersson did not want his salary published. But he shared one paycheck stub that showed far less than the reported amount and was certainly modest by Detroit standards. His contract's profit-sharing clause, however, could bring a significant payout, he said.

Models, balloons and strings at the launching in Togliatti last month of a new 1.8-liter engine for the Lada Priora, a compact.

Some in Togliatti now deride him as a carpetbagger, an undertaker and "Hans Christian Andersen," the Danish spinner of fairy tales.

Mr. Andersson monitors the criticism, but said that the government, including President Putin in person, endorsed his plan. The town fathers, the official union and some workers support him as well. He also has two bodyguards.

This is not the first effort to fundamentally alter Lada. The previous attempt, after the 2008 financial crisis, ended the Soviet-era, cradle-to-grave welfare system whereby the factory staffed hospitals and schools and provided apartments. Street protests halted any further cutbacks — the Kremlin evidently fearful about unrest spreading elsewhere.

Piotr A. Zolotaryov, head of a 300-member independent union, called the current tension a classic worker-management dispute over job security and wages. Many also resent that Mr. Andersson is foreign, he acknowledged in an interview at the union offices.

Russians tend to recall every historical slight, and on cue a union member nearby groused, "He seeks to avenge the Battle of Poltava!" — when Russian forces crushed an attempt by King Charles XII of Sweden to conquer Moscow in 1709.

Street demonstrations this time fizzled. Given the economy, people are worried about survival, Mr. Zolotaryov said.

Mr. Andersson's task could hardly have come at a worse moment as relations between Russia and the West have suffered their sharpest deterioration since the Cold War and the economy foundered. Small car sales sank this year, while luxury imports recently surged as wealthy Russians tried to salvage any value from the collapsing ruble.

Mr. Andersson began his car career at Saab, then moved to Detroit in 1993, rising to vice president for purchasing at General Motors, with an annual $125 billion budget. He became an American citizen in 2008.

After G.M. emerged from its financial crisis, Mr. Andersson decided nothing bigger lay ahead in America. He accepted an offer from a Russian oligarch, Oleg Deripaska, to rebuild Avtogaz, Russia's largest manufacturer of light commercial vehicles, headquartered in Nizhny Novgorod.

On June 19, 2009, he was in Detroit. On June 20, he started work in Nizhny Novgorod.

Mr. Andersson dismissed 50,000 workers, introduced new vehicles and forged joint assembly ventures with Volkswagen, G.M., Skoda and Daimler. The company, after losing $1 billion in 2008, became profitable. He got a profit-sharing clause there, too.

The Russian government recruited him to run Avtovaz, which lost more than $500 million last year, Mr. Andersson said. Renault-Nissan and the government jointly own almost 75 percent of Avtovaz, with the remaining shares public.

It was a big switch. Nizhny Novgorod is a large, historic, university city. Togliatti is a flat landscape of squat apartment blocks, relieved only by an 11-mile stretch of the Volga River.

Mr. Andersson gathers his Russian, French and Japanese managers on the factory floor every morning at 6:45, 15 minutes before the workers. The plant, covering 1,630 acres, includes five car production lines and six component factories, churning out 11 car models.

Production charts indicate that quality has improved, but remains uneven. Mr. Andersson grilled his executives about complaints found on the web, like noisy gearboxes. (Top Gear, the British TV show, once compared the Lada transmission sound to a tin tray full of teacups and called the brand "the lowest form of motoring life.") He forced all company executives to drive Ladas.

As he strides through any workshop, his eyes sweep the floor, and his entourage cringes whenever he reaches down. At one point on the tour he tossed a loose metal ring at a manager.

"Managers don't like it because they felt like he was embarrassing them in front of the workers," Mr. Tselikov said.

Productivity doubled this year to 40 vehicles per worker, Mr. Andersson said. His goal is 60. Lada model changes so far have been "lipstick on a pig," he said, but a new, Russian-designed car line is due next fall.

Mr. Andersson described his "last battle" as pushing component producers, some government-owned, to deliver quality parts on time at competitive prices.

In Togliatti, views about the factory tend to split along generational lines. The older generation misses the paternal factory and the days when Russians happily bought any car they could find. Residents born after the Soviet Union's 1991 collapse want modern, reliable and affordable Ladas.

Mr. Andersson's real last battle might be changing Russian perceptions.

A few years ago, a bittersweet song about the original Lada said it took a "real man" to drive one. The lyrics cataloged its shortcomings, saying no driver bothers with the blinkers, for example, because he "never really knows where his car will turn."

Throughout the video, the camera focused periodically on a typically Russian man seemingly highway cruising, but as the camera pulled back, it revealed that the car was actually moving atop a tow truck.

Nikolai Khalip contributed reporting from Togliatti, and Alexandra Odynova from Moscow.

Source : http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/22/world/trying-to-save-russias-punch-line-of-a-car.html

Man dies after car falls on him at South Side auto lot - Columbus Dispatch

Authorities have identified the man who died on Thursday after a car he was repairing fell on him at a South Side auto lot.

Police said the death of Kevin Hill, 58, appears to have been accidental.

Homicide detectives investigate all such deaths, even when a crime is not suspected.

Paramedics were called about 1:30 p.m. Thursday to the Too Short Auto Sales lot at 817 Parsons Ave. and found Hill trapped beneath a sedan inside a small garage, which is used by the business to make repairs.

Detective Melissa Carlson said the lot's owner had shouted into the garage that he was leaving for the day. When he didn't get a response, he checked inside and discovered that the car had slipped off jacks and onto Hill.

Columbus firefighters and paramedics jacked up the car and took Hill to OhioHealth Grant Medical Center, where he died about 2 p.m.

It was not clear how long Hill had been trapped, but the owner told police he had last seen him go into the garage about 45 minutes earlier.

Carlson said the owner had been helping Hill by giving him a chance to work on cars and a place to stay.

"He lived in that little camper," she said, gesturing to an old RV parked on a back corner of the lot.

The visibly distraught owner declined to comment Thursday, saying he wanted to speak first with the man's family. Carlson said the nearest relatives were believed to live in Cleveland.

tdecker@dispatch.com

@Theodore_Decker

Source : http://www.dispatch.com/content/stories/local/2014/12/18/car-fatally-falls-on-man.html

Two NYPD Officers Are Killed in Brooklyn Ambush; Suspect Commits Suicide - New York Times

Slide Show | Two Officers Fatally Shot in Brooklyn Rafael Ramos and Wenjian Liu were shot at point-blank range and killed on Saturday afternoon.

By BENJAMIN MUELLER and AL BAKER

December 20, 2014

Two police officers sitting in their patrol car in Brooklyn were shot at point-blank range and killed on Saturday afternoon by a man who, officials said, had traveled to the city from Baltimore vowing to kill officers. The suspect then committed suicide with the same gun, the authorities said.

The officers, Wenjian Liu and Rafael Ramos, were in the car near Myrtle and Tompkins Avenues in Bedford-Stuyvesant in the shadow of a tall housing project when the gunman, Ismaaiyl Brinsley, walked up to the passenger-side window and assumed a firing stance, Police Commissioner William J. Bratton said. Mr. Brinsley shot several rounds into the heads and upper bodies of the officers, who never drew their weapons, the authorities said.

Mr. Brinsley, 28, then fled down the street and onto the platform of a nearby subway station, where he killed himself as officers closed in. The police recovered a silver semiautomatic handgun, Mr. Bratton said.

Mr. Brinsley, who had a long rap sheet of crimes that included robbery and carrying a concealed gun, is believed to have shot his former girlfriend near Baltimore before traveling to Brooklyn, the authorities said. He made statements on social media suggesting that he planned to kill police officers and was angered about the Eric Garner and Michael Brown cases.

Authorities in Baltimore sent a warning that Mr. Brinsley had made these threats, but it was received in New York at essentially the same time as the killings, officials said.

The shootings, the chase, the suicide of Mr. Brinsley and the desperate but failed bid to save the lives of the officers — their uniforms soaked in blood — turned a busy commercial intersection on the Saturday before Christmas into a scene of pandemonium.

The manager of a liquor store at the corner, Charlie Hu, said the two police officers were slouched over in the front seat of their patrol car. Both of them appeared to have been shot in the head, Mr. Hu said, and one of the officers had blood spilling out of his face.

"Today two of New York's finest were shot and killed with no warning, no provocation," Mr. Bratton said at Woodhull Hospital in Williamsburg, where the officers were declared dead. "They were, quite simply, assassinated — targeted for their uniform and for the responsibility they embraced to keep the people of this city safe."

The slain police officers: Rafael Ramos, 40, left, and Wenjian Liu, 32.

"Officer Ramos and Officer Liu never had the opportunity to draw their weapons," he continued. "They may have never even seen the assailant, their murderer."

Mayor Bill de Blasio, standing beside the police commissioner, said, "It is an attack on all of us; it's an attack on everything we hold dear."

Mr. de Blasio said he had met with the officers' families, including Officer Ramos's 13-year-old son, who "couldn't comprehend what had happened to his father."

Late Saturday night, President Obama condemned the "murder of two police officers in New York City," noting that officers who serve their communities "deserve our respect and gratitude every single day. Tonight, I ask people to reject violence and words that harm, and turn to words that heal — prayer, patient dialogue, and sympathy for the friends and family of the fallen."

Map | Brooklyn Shooting

The double killing comes at a moment when protests over police tactics have roiled the city and other parts of the nation. Since a grand jury declined to bring criminal charges in the case of Mr. Garner, a black Staten Island man who died after a police chokehold in July, protesters have filled the streets on numerous occasions. Those protests followed more violent ones in Ferguson, Mo., after there were no charges in the police shooting of Mr. Brown, an unarmed black teenager.

The mayor has taken care to praise officers' work repeatedly since the grand jury decision, but he has stressed the rights of protesters to express themselves and spoken of his personal experience instructing his biracial son, Dante, to "take special care" during any police encounters.

Some union leaders suggested the mayor had sent a message that police officers were to be feared. Cries for the police to use more restraint have been buttressed by historic drops in violent crime. The city has seen roughly 300 killings so far this year, a number so low as to be unheard-of two decades ago.

But the shooting on Saturday seemed reminiscent of decades past, when the city was mired in an epidemic of drugs and violence and, in 1988, a police officer was shot while he sat alone in his patrol car guarding the home of a man who had testified in a drug case. That killing shook the city, sparking an escalation in the war on drugs and an aggressive crackdown on violent crime. Mr. Bratton said that the attack on Saturday was the seventh time since 1972 that partners in the Police Department had been killed at the same time.

The killing seemed to drive the wedge between Mr. de Blasio and rank-and-file officers even deeper. Video posted online showed dozens of officers turning their backs to the mayor as he walked into anews conference on Saturday night.

"There's blood on many hands tonight — those that incited violence on the street under the guise of protests, that tried to tear down what New York City police officers did every day," the head of the Patrolmen's Benevolent Association, Patrick Lynch, said outside Woodhull Hospital. He added, "That blood on the hands starts on the steps of City Hall, in the office of the mayor."

Mr. Brinsley, whose records indicate that he was born in New York, had been arrested several times in Georgia and Ohio. He was arrested on accusations of carrying a concealed weapon and stealing in Georgia, and in Ohio in connection with theft and robbery, among other run-ins with the police. His last known residence was in Georgia. Mr. Bratton said the suspect also had ties to East Flatbush, Brooklyn, but would not be more specific.

Earlier on Saturday, law enforcement officials said, Mr. Brinsley shot his former girlfriend in the stomach near Baltimore. She survived.

Mr. Bratton said investigators believed that after the Maryland shooting, Mr. Brinsley posted to an Instagram account that he was headed to New York to attack police officers and that the posting might be his last. Mr. Bratton lamented the timing of the warning from authorities. "The tragedy here is that just as the warning was coming in, the murder was occurring," he said.

Mr. Bratton said that the Instagram posts reviewed by investigators, which he said had been widely circulated and may have been on the account of a girlfriend, revealed a "very strong bias against police officers."

In the Instagram posting that was apparently written by Mr. Brinsley, he called the attack retribution for the deaths of Mr. Garner and Mr. Brown.

Below a photo of a firearm, the Instagram posting, which misspells Mr. Garner's name, reads: "I'm Putting Wings On Pigs Today. They Take 1 Of Ours......Let's Take 2 of Theirs #ShootThePolice #RIPErivGardner #RIPMikeBrown."

Mr. Brinsley's sister, Nawaal Brinsley, said on Saturday that she had not seen her brother in two years. "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness," she said when told of the attack. She said she did not remember hearing her brother express anger at the police.

Mr. Bratton said that Officer Liu had been a seven-year veteran of the force and that Officer Ramos had been an officer since 2012. Officer Liu, he added, had been married two months.

The shootings seemed poised to cool the protests of recent months. The Rev. Al Sharpton, who has been an outspoken backer of the protests in recent weeks, condemned the attack.

"Any use of the names of Eric Garner and Michael Brown in connection with any violence or killing of police is reprehensible and against the pursuit of justice in both cases," he said.

The Brooklyn borough president, Eric Adams, worried that the attack would "tarnish" the campaign against police brutality that has swept the city.

"It's horrific to have someone intentionally shoot a police officer; it's the wrong message," he said. "And that is not the message that many have been calling on when they talk about reform."

The intersection where the shooting occurred, which is dominated by the Tompkins housing project across the street, is a spot where residents often see police keeping watch. The officers had been assigned to patrol the Tompkins Houses in response to an uptick in violence there this year, Mr. Bratton said.

The increased police presence had improved the neighborhood, some said. "It's changed and gotten better through the years," said Felix Camacho, 40, an airport ramp agent who has lived for eight years on the block where the shooting happened. But other residents worried that the episode on Saturday would inflame relations.

More than 100 officers lined the hospital's exit ramp as the bodies of Officers Liu and Ramos were driven out in ambulances.

Reporting was contributed by Emma G. Fitzsimmons, Matt Flegenheimer, Dan Glaun, J. David Goodman, Mike Isaac, Matt Krupnick and Ashley Southall. Jack Begg contributed research.

Source : http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/nyregion/two-police-officers-shot-in-their-patrol-car-in-brooklyn.html

The 2005 Chevrolet Cobalt SS is displayed on the floor of the North American International Auto Show in Detroit Michigan, in this file photograph taken January 5, 2004. (REUTERS/Gregory Shamus/Files)

Most commercial airplanes have an indestructible flight recorder known as a "black box" — even though the casing is actually bright orange — that records information from the flight computers. Another box records cockpit audio and other sources around the plane. In the event of a crash, investigators can recover the black boxes and find out exactly what happened.

Cars can have black boxes, too. In fact, it's a good bet your current car has one. And if it doesn't, your next new car certainly will. That's why you should know exactly what that black box is recording, who can get the information and how you can stay in control.

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A bit of history

Black boxes in cars aren't a new thing. They were installed in cars from Cadillac, Buick, Chevrolet and Pontiac in 1994 to help General Motors manufacturers learn how their cars performed in crashes.

Since the early 2000s, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration has been collecting black box information to get a better picture of the circumstances surrounding accidents. Last year, 96 percent of new cars sold in the United States came with a black box. As of Sept. 1, 2014, every new vehicle must have one.

Black box data have been used in a few high-profile investigations. In 2011, Massachusetts Lt. Gov. Timothy Murray totaled a government car. He claimed he was driving the speed limit and was wearing a seat belt. Investigators used his black box data to show he was driving 100 mph and wasn't buckled in at the time of the crash.

Wondering if your car has a black box? This site lists the year, make and model of nearly every car that has one. You can also check your car's manual. If you're buying a car from a dealership, it has to tell you if the car has a black box.

What do black boxes record?

While the first-generation event data recorders did little more than track whether the car's airbags deployed, recording and sensor technologies have become smaller and much more powerful. The NHTSA has mandated that every new recorder must track 15 variables, although older recorders might not have all of them.

The information includes vehicle speed, throttle position, airbag deployment times, whether the brakes were applied, whether seat belts were worn, engine speed, steering angles and more. Manufacturers may include up to 30 additional data points if they want, but they say they don't include GPS location, video or audio. Also, the black box stores information only for 20 seconds around the crash.

Still, many privacy advocates worry that the recording length might eventually increase and include more identifying information. That raises the question of who can access the data in the first place.

Who can pull the data?

Getting your hands on black box data requires professional training and a Crash Data Retrieval system that starts at $2,000 and can cost up to $20,000 with accessories. The CDR system plugs into the on-board diagnostics port under the dashboard on the driver's side and transfers the information to a special computer program.

Obviously, car manufacturers have the equipment. The NHTSA and law enforcement have the resources to get the information either directly or through specialized third parties. Third-party shops often pull the data as part of an accident reconstruction service. Insurance companies and law firms may also use third parties to get data for accident investigations or court cases.

Then there's the group everyone worries about — hackers. In most cases, I doubt hackers want your black box data. It would need to contain a lot more data on you to make it worth their while.

Hackers are more interested in hacking cars so they can take control of them from a distance. Unfortunately, they're getting good at it, and it's getting easier as cars become more and more computer controlled. Do you own one of the three most hackable cars in the world? Click here to find out.

That's the technical side of downloading black box data. There's a legal side as well. As of this writing, 15 states — Arkansas, California, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Maine, Nevada, New Hampshire, New York, North Dakota, Oregon, Texas, Utah, Virginia and Washington — have passed regulations regarding who can pull the information with and without the car owner's permission.

You can find an up-to-date list of the states and their rules at the National Conference of State Legislatures site. In general, however, no one can pull data without your permission or a court order. Insurance companies can't use the data to set your rates unless you opt into a program, and those programs usually use another tracking unit. The rules are much less clear in states that haven't passed any legislation yet.

Can you keep your data private?

Still, anyone with a court order, or just the right tool and a little time, can get at your black box information. There's no way you can delete the data or disable the black box.

Fortunately, there is a simpler option. Products like AutoCYB, OBD Lock and OBD Saver put a lock on the diagnostic port so no one can plug anything into it without your permission. That keeps people from resetting information, extracting data or falsifying records that could be used against you.

Whether a court order would require you to hand over the keys to the lock is another story. I'll leave that one for the lawyers to decide. But you can at least make sure that nothing short of a court order lets someone get your data.

On the , the nation's largest weekend radio talk show, Kim takes calls and dispenses advice on today's digital lifestyle, from smartphones and tablets to online privacy and data hacks. For her daily tips, free newsletters and more, visit her website at . Kim also posts breaking tech news 24/7 at .

Source : http://www.foxnews.com/tech/2014/12/20/your-car-hidden-black-box-and-how-to-keep-it-private/

Man dies after car falls on him at South Side auto lot - Columbus Dispatch

Authorities have identified the man who died on Thursday after a car he was repairing fell on him at a South Side auto lot.

Police said the death of Kevin Hill, 58, appears to have been accidental.

Homicide detectives investigate all such deaths, even when a crime is not suspected.

Paramedics were called about 1:30 p.m. Thursday to the Too Short Auto Sales lot at 817 Parsons Ave. and found Hill trapped beneath a sedan inside a small garage, which is used by the business to make repairs.

Detective Melissa Carlson said the lot's owner had shouted into the garage that he was leaving for the day. When he didn't get a response, he checked inside and discovered that the car had slipped off jacks and onto Hill.

Columbus firefighters and paramedics jacked up the car and took Hill to OhioHealth Grant Medical Center, where he died about 2 p.m.

It was not clear how long Hill had been trapped, but the owner told police he had last seen him go into the garage about 45 minutes earlier.

Carlson said the owner had been helping Hill by giving him a chance to work on cars and a place to stay.

"He lived in that little camper," she said, gesturing to an old RV parked on a back corner of the lot.

The visibly distraught owner declined to comment Thursday, saying he wanted to speak first with the man's family. Carlson said the nearest relatives were believed to live in Cleveland.

tdecker@dispatch.com

@Theodore_Decker

Source : http://www.dispatch.com/content/stories/local/2014/12/18/car-fatally-falls-on-man.html