Evoking the same kind of New York charm as favorites like The Little Red Lighthouse and the Great Gray Bridge and The House on East 88th Street, screenwriter Ackerman celebrates a humble phone booth (still standing at 100th Street and West End Avenue) that saves the Upper West Side—and vice versa. Fellow newcomer Dalton's retro vignettes set the scene with square-jawed men in skinny ties, Girl Scouts in braids, and assorted neighborhood clowns, ballerinas, and secret agents while Ackerman explains how things used to be. "Each week, phone company workers came to clean and polish the Phone Booth, to collect the deposited coins, and to make sure that its buttons were working properly."

This is the story of one of the last remaining phone booths in New York City, the Phone Booth on the corner of West End Avenue and 100th. Everyone used itfrom ballerinas and birthday clowns, to cellists and even secret agents Kept clean and polished, the Phone Booth was proud and happy]]until, the day a businessman strode by and shouted into a shiny silver object, "I'll be there in ten minutes " Soon everyone was talking into these shiny silver things, and the Phone Booth stood alone and empty, unused and dejected.

A Force More Powerful challenges a longstanding myth that lies at the heart of much of the turmoil of the 20th century: that power comes from the barrel of a gun; based on convincing detail, Ackerman and Duvall dare to claim that nonviolent movements lead to more secure democracies.

Nonviolent action, well planned and implemented, is shown in this lucid, timely, and compelling work to effect dramatic outcomes against opponents utilizing violence. Ackerman and Kruegler recognize that not all nonviolent efforts meet with success, and they are careful to stress that a nonviolent approach involves great risks as well as opportunities. It is the effectiveness of the strategies employed which will determine whether or not those using nonviolent means can prevail against opponents who rely on violence in pursuit of objectives. Twelve strategic principles are established in this book which serve as a conceptual foundation to enhance the prospects of success in nonviolent campaigns. The authors also develop six twentieth-century examples of nonviolent action from the early Russian Revolution of 1904-1906 through the Solidarity movement in 1980-1981. Each campaign narrative constitutes a fascinating reading experience and illustrates common themes, strategies, and important aspects of behavior on the part of major participants in nonviolent encounters.

Nonviolent action, well planned and implemented, is shown in this lucid, timely, and compelling work to effect dramatic outcomes against opponents utilizing violence. Ackerman and Kruegler recognize that not all nonviolent efforts meet with success, and they are careful to stress that a nonviolent approach involves great risks as well as opportunities. It is the effectiveness of the strategies employed which will determine whether or not those using nonviolent means can prevail against opponents who rely on violence in pursuit of objectives. Twelve strategic principles are established in this book which serve as a conceptual foundation to enhance the prospects of success in nonviolent campaigns. The authors also develop six twentieth-century examples of nonviolent action from the early Russian Revolution of 1904-1906 through the Solidarity movement in 1980-1981. Each campaign narrative constitutes a fascinating reading experience and illustrates common themes, strategies, and important aspects of behavior on the part of major participants in nonviolent encounters.

Remember the days when phone booths stood on every street corner? If you had to make a call, you'd step inside the little booth, lift the phone off the hook, put a coin in the slot, listen for the click, push the buttons, and hear it ring? And for only 25 cents, in the quiet of the booth, you could call your grandmother, or let the office know you were running late, or get directions for a birthday party. . .

This is the story of one of the last remaining phone booths in New York City, the Phone Booth on the corner of West End Avenue and 100th. Everyone used it — from ballerinas and girl scouts, zookeepers and birthday clowns, to cellists and even secret agents! The Phone Booth was so beloved that people would sometimes wait in line to use it. Kept clean and polished, the Phone Booth was proud and happy . . . until, the day a businessman strode by and shouted into a shiny silver object, "I'll be there in ten minutes!" Soon everyone was talking into these shiny silver things, and the Phone Booth stood alone and empty, unused and dejected.