Author: jackmiller2212875

A young man stands grinning in Beijing’s Forbidden City. It’s the dead of winter, and one of his hands is buried deep into the pockets of his long overcoat to protect it from the chill. The other grasps the unmistakable contours of a glass Coca-Cola bottle.

Today, Coke is the world’s most famous soft drink and can be found just about anywhere. But back in 1981, when the image was shot by Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer Liu Heung Shing, it was only just getting into the hands of ordinary Chinese people.

Liu, who was in his late 20s when he began working for Time magazine in Beijing, felt the country was on the cusp of a great cultural shift following the death of Mao Zedong in 1976.

“The changes (at first) were subtle, and unless you lived there, you wouldn’t have noticed,” he recalled during an interview at his home in Hong Kong.

He had earlier photographed people grieving for Mao along the banks of the Pearl River in Guangzhou. It was here that he was struck by how differently people carried themselves compared to what he had seen in late-1950s China, where he grew up during the disastrous Great Leap Forward campaign — a series of failed industrialization policies — before moving back to Hong Kong as a child.

Under Mao, the country went on to suffer from widespread famine and poverty, and the tumultuous years of the Cultural Revolution. But in the aftermath of the Chinese leader’s death, Liu said, “suddenly, people’s steps looked a little bit lighter, they dropped their shoulders and their faces looked more relaxed.”

It would prove to be a relatively liberal period in Chinese history — politically, economically, and in terms of everyday life, which Liu captured in candid shots. One photo from the time showed a plastic surgeon and his client after a cosmetic procedure. Another depicted people gathering at a “Democracy Wall” in Beijing, where they wrote now-unthinkable criticisms of the government.

One of Liu’s most iconic images was captured on his way into the Time bureau after he had a strange feeling that something was “missing.” He turned his car around and, sure enough, a large portrait of Mao that had once hung prominently on a building had been freshly taken down. He quickly shot images of workers gathered around the depiction of the late Chairman, with some of their scaffolding visible in the frame.

Authorities in Western Australia say they have found a tiny radioactive capsule that went missing last month.

Emergency services had “literally found the needle in the haystack”, they said.

A huge search was triggered when the object was lost while being transported along a 1,400km (870 miles) route across the state. 

Authorities released a close-up picture of the pea-sized capsule – which could cause serious harm if handled – on the ground among tiny pebbles.

A serial number enabled them to verify they had found the right capsule, which is 6mm (0.24 inches) in diameter and 8mm long.

It contains a small quantity of Caesium-137, which could cause skin damage, burns, or radiation sickness.

Mining giant Rio Tinto apologized for losing the device, which is used as a density gauge in the mining industry.

A 20m “hot zone” has now been established around the capsule and it will be placed into a lead container.

It will be stored at a secure location in the town of Newman overnight before being transported to a secure facility in the city of Perth on Thursday.

Announcing their find, the state emergency services paid tribute to “inter-agency teamwork in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds”.

The capsule was found when a vehicle equipped with specialist equipment, which was traveling at 70 km/h (43 mph), detected radiation, officials said.

Portable detection equipment was then used to locate the capsule, which was found about 2m (7ft) from the side of the road.

The device is part of a density gauge, which was being used at Rio Tinto’s Gudai-Darri mine in the remote Pilbara region of Western Australia. 

“The simple fact is the device should never have been lost,” said the head of the company’s iron ore division, Simon Trott. He thanked the authorities for the “pretty incredible recovery” of the capsule.

Rio Tinto would be happy to reimburse the cost of the search if requested by the government, Mr. Trott added.

Australian authorities have promised a review of existing laws on the matter. 

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese told a news conference in Perth that the current fine for failing to safely handle radioactive substances is “ridiculously low”. It currently stands at A$1,000 ($700, £575) and A$50 ($35, £30) for every day that the offense continues.