Hilversum is a medium-sized city between the major cities of Amsterdam and Utrecht in the Gooi area of North Holland, the Netherlands. Unlike most of the Netherlands, Hilversum is actually in a hilly area with the soil mostly consisting of sand. Once called the Garden of Amsterdam, it still attracts travelers to come over to cycle and walk through the surrounding forests. They visit it for a relaxing day off from the urban madness. For Dutch people, Hilversum is all about textile (纺织) and media industries, and modern architecture.

    In history, Hilversum was largely an agricultural area. Daily life was marked by farming, sheep raising and wool production. A railway link to Amsterdam in 1874 attracted rich traders from Amsterdam to Hilversum. They build themselves large villas (别墅) in the wooded surroundings of the town. One of the families moving in was the Brenninkmeijers, currently the wealthiest family of the Netherlands. They moved in after big success in the textile industry and aided a substantial textile industry in Hilversum. But the textile boom lasted only several decades. The last factory closed in the 1960s.

    The change to a media economy started in 1920, when the Nederlandse Seintoestedllen Fabriek (NSF) established a radio factory in Hiversum. Most radio stations called in the large villas in the leafy areas of the town. Television gave another push to the local economy. Hilversum became the media capital of the Netherlands, and Dutch televison stars moved into the leafy neighborhoods surrounding the town.

    In the early 1900s, modern architcts W.M. Dudok and J. Duiker placed hundreds of remarkable buildings in Hilversum. These modern architectural masterpieces (杰作) are so many that Hilversum almost feels like an open air museum. Dudok alone shaped most 20th century Hilversum and approximately 75 buildings in 1928-1931. It has wide international fame and is included in many architecture textbooks. The building has a remarkable shape and looks like a combination of “blocks”. Actually, one may start his journey of modern architecture by walking or biking the W.M. Dudok Architectural Route in Hilversum.

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    Everyone gathered around and Paddy read out loud, slowly, his tone growing sadder and sadder. The little headline said: BOXER RECEIVES LIFE SENTENCE.

Frank Cleary, aged 26, professional boxer, was today found guilty of the murder of Albert Cumming, aged 32, laborer, last July. The jury (陪审团) reached its decision after only ten minutes, recommending the most severe punishment the court could give out. It was, said the judge, a simple case. Cumming and Cleary had quarreled violently at the Harbour Hotel on July 23rd and the police saw Cleary kicking at the head of the unconscious Cumming. When arrested Cleary was drunk but clear-thinking…

    Cleary was sentenced to life imprisonment with hard labour. Asked if he had anything to say, Cleary answered, “Just don't tell my mother.”

     “It happened over three years ago,” Paddy said helplessly. No one answered him or moved, for no one knew what to do. “Just don't tell my mother,” said Fee numbly. “And no one did! Oh, God! My poor, poor Frank!” Paddy wiped the tears from his face and said. “Fee dear, pack your things. We'll go to see him.”

    She half-rose before sinking back, her eyes in her small white face stared as if dead. “I can't go,” she said without a hint of pain, yet making everyone feel that the pain was there. “It would kill him to see me. I know him so well— his pride, his ambition. Let him bear the shame alone, it's what he wants. We’ve got to help him keep his secret. What good will it do him to see us? ”

    Paddy was still weeping, but not for Frank, for the life which had gone from Fee’s face, for the dying in her eyes. Frank had always brought bitterness and misfortune, always stood between Fee and himself. He was the cause of her withdrawal from his heart and the hearts of his children.

    Every time it looked as if there might be happiness for Fee, Frank took it away. But Paddy's love for her was as deep and impossible to wipe out as hers was for Frank.

    So he said, “Well, Fee, we won't go. But we must make sure he is taken care of. How about if I write to Father Jones and ask him to look out for Frank?”

    The eyes didn't liven, but a faint pink stole into her cheeks. “Yes, Paddy, do that. Only make sure he knows not to tell Frank we found out. Perhaps it would ease Frank to think for certain that we don't know.”