Many in the movement have tried to suggest he was never one of them. That they never worshiped at the altar of Christopher Cantwell. But they absolutely did. Cantwell, for a time, had serious Nazi clout. Until he was no longer useful, or valuable. Until he was rightly seen as a fake, and a phony, and a grifter, and a weakling, he was important and admired. Cantwell was loved until he was hated, and hated until he was ridiculed. And he will be ridiculed until he’s forgotten.

There is, perhaps, no six-month news cycle that Christopher Cantwell, a chaos agent within the already chaotic world of neo-Nazis, would have enjoyed more. But as civil unrest fills the streets, a pandemic rages across the country, and a presidential election looms on the horizon, the libertarian shock jock turned neo-Nazi podcaster has been confined to a New Hampshire jail that doubles as an immigrant detention facility.

When Alison Levine travels via United Airlines, she doesn’t bother showing up at the airport two hours ahead of her flight. Levine arrives just as her flight is due to board. She doesn’t waste time in line at security, nor does she have to line up and wait to board the plane. Levine is greeted by airline staff. Flight attendants pay her special attention, taking her meal and drink orders ahead of other passengers. When her flight is a few minutes late arriving, a Mercedes SUV is dispatched to p

Initially, Ms. Mack changed her last name out of the same fear — that the Madoff name might forever brand her a pariah. She now knows what she is convinced Mark could not bring himself to see, that infamy can be as fleeting as fame. The scandal that once rocked New York has moved off the front pages of the tabloids. The paparazzi have moved on, circling the apartment buildings of other people. And Ms. Mack has resumed using her married name in her personal life and on her FreshDirect boxes. As

His criminal career ended, police say, when he shot an officer in the face. But it started decades earlier. Angelo West was a member of a violent Roxbury street gang and an associate of Freddie Cardoza, the man who became a poster child for reducing gang violence. No, really: Law enforcement made a poster using his case as a warning to other gang members. Both West and Cardoza were members of the Humboldt Raiders, a gang based on Roxbury’s Humboldt Avenue, according to Bill Stewart, assistant

For more than 300 years, newspapers ran advertisements from men publicly announcing their wives had left them, and that they would no longer “be responsible for her debts.’’ Hundreds of thousands of ads like these ran in virtually every newspaper across the country, from small town weeklies to The Boston Globe and The New York Times. The tradition lasted into the mid 1980s, when the ads largely stopped appearing.

Pippin Roe’s partially decomposed body was discovered by Boston police on July 13, 2014, behind a building on Columbus Avenue in Boston’s Roxbury neighborhood. The story of how it got there is a mystery still unfolding, of a curious New England upbringing, a broken family, and a promising young artist whose friends and family felt powerless as they watched her life spiral out of control. At her memorial service, the Rev. Leaf Seligman said that Pippin “navigated a childhood shaped by separatio

Sweet potatoes. Turkey. Cranberries. Pumpkins. Stuffing. These are the foods Americans think of when they think of Thanksgiving. But for nearly a century, two unlikely foods were absolute must-haves on every traditional Thanksgiving menu. From the late 1800s until the 1960s, these two foods — which usually only come together in the murky depths of a Bloody Mary — were a must on seasonally decorated tables in homes across America. Fix yourself a cocktail—extra celery, extra olives—as you witne

Twenty-seven years after a New Hampshire Republican activist named Mike Dunbar dreamed up the idea of a Donald Trump presidency, the idea still hasn’t worn off. For Trump, at least. Early yesterday morning, Trump made an appearance in Manchester, N.H., at “Politics & Eggs,’’ an established stop for anyone pondering a White House run. It wasn’t his first time flirting with the idea of running for president, and it likely won’t be his last. It was early summer of 1987, and Mike Dunbar had an ide