Clin
Clin is our contemporary interpretation of the Franklin Gothic tradition. It is based on the skeleton of historical american grotesque, but is deliberately less shaded. The strokes are straighter and the contrast more moderate, so that the font appears stable in both small sizes and large black headlines. At the same time, it borrows the principles of neo-grotesque. Balanced proportions, disciplined metrics, restrained details, and legibility without mannerisms.
- Design: Filip Matejíček, Jan Charvát
- Production: Heavyweight
- Spacing/Kerning: Renegade Fonts
- Number of glyphs: 1091
- Number of styles: 10
- Number of languages: 35
- Date of release: 2026
- Version: 2.039
produced exactly
one essayettés.
Satisfaction
GUARANTEED!
After ➆ million
years of careful
calculation.
Assigned
ISBN-80-200-01
no exceptions
Distribution Only
for internal use
Regular
In the spring of 1972, a small committee within the Federal Design Improvement Program convened to discuss the role of typography in public information systems. The meeting took place at the Department of Transportation in Washington, D.C., and lasted precisely 3 hours and 47 minutes. Notes from that session mention legibility under stress, cost of reproduction, and national visual identity. By mid-1973, the report later titled “Visual Standards Manual No. 4”, had been distributed to more than 120 regional offices across the United States. Each copy was printed in two inks (PMS 286 U and Black) and bound with a single brass fastener through the upper left corner. The print run was limited to 2 ,500 copies. At the same time, designers at MIT’s Visual Language Lab began a series of experiments comparing Helvetica, Franklin Gothic, and the then-new ITC Avant Garde. Results indicated that Franklin Gothic performed consistently better in environments with variable lighting, particularly under fluorescent conditions common to train stations and civic buildings. “People read what they trust,” wrote researcher Judith Carver in Industrial Communication Journal, Vol. 8 (1974), pp. 41–52.
Between 1965 and 1980, more than 40 % of municipal wayfinding systems in the United States adopted sans-serif letterforms derived from Franklin Gothic. Major installations included:
– Chicago Transit Authority, 1967
– Los Angeles Department of Water & Power, 1971
– Port Authority Bus Terminal, New York, 1975 In retrospect, the “American Modern” typographic era appears both optimistic and mechanical — an intersection of clarity and control. Many of its visual codes still persist: the boxed headline, the single-rule grid, the justified caption beneath a monochrome image.
As Carver concluded in her notes, dated March 12, 1974:
“The goal was never beauty. The goal was recognition at sixty miles per hour.”
Regular
By the late 1970s, the visual language of American transportation had reached a remarkable level of standardization. Across airports, highways, and subway platforms, letterforms became a silent form of public order, directing, warning, and reassuring millions of commuters each day. The New York City Transit Authority began its comprehensive signage reform in 1966, under the supervision of Massimo Vignelli and Bob Noorda. Their system used Helvetica Medium, set on black backgrounds, aligned to an invisible grid that stretched through all five boroughs. Yet despite its precision, the visual system aged quickly. By 1983, numerous stations displayed inconsistent versions: Helvetica Bold, Arial, Akzidenz-Grotesk, and, occasionally, hand-painted Franklin Gothic lettering. Maintenance crews often replaced full panels simply because the original transfer sheets were out of stock. “In New York, order lasts about as long as the paint does,”
wrote Richard Hollins, signage engineer, in a 1985 internal memo. A comparative study conducted by the Metropolitan Design Review Board in 1986 examined 127 stations and recorded more than 240 typographic variations. The survey included entries such as: 42 St–Bryant Pk, Fulton St, Astor Pl, and Bedford Av, alongside pseudonyms used internally for testing, Line A South, Control 02, Mock Platform B. The findings suggested that riders responded more to contrast and placement than to font family. A well-lit sign in condensed Franklin Gothic was, statistically, read 0.7 seconds faster than a dimly lit Helvetica panel of the same size. The data set, spanning 2,100 observations, became one of the first quantitative typographic studies ever conducted in an active metro network. When digital systems began replacing enamel and silkscreen in the 1990s, the emphasis shifted from permanence to adaptability. A 1992 memorandum from the Urban Transit Lab at Columbia University proposed modular LED panels capable of dynamic kerning — an idea years ahead of its time. Even today, the balance between structure and improvisation defines New York’s graphic landscape. A sign may be aligned perfectly at 14th Street but drift by three degrees at Canal St, echoing the city itself: designed, corrected, and re-drawn endlessly.
The type never truly settles — it simply moves with the trains.
Regular
Park Hill
West Point
Liberty Line
Metro Square
Central Loop
Hudson Gate
Sunset Park
Union Terminal
Broadway West
East River
Harlem Cross
Grand Station
Riverside South
Midtown East
Queens Plaza
Bronx Heights
Atlantic Station
Bronx Heights
Regular
Highways / Networks /
Infrastructure
Offices Divisions
Departments
Memo from Richard
Hollins
Regular
Chicago Transit Authority 1967
Los Angeles Dept. of Water & Power 1971
Port Authority Bus Terminal, NYC 1975
Denver Regional Transit 1976
Baltimore Metro Subway 1979
Seattle Center Monorail 1980
Italic
Chicago Transit Authority 1967
Los Angeles Dept. of Water & Power 1971
Port Authority Bus Terminal, NYC 1975
Denver Regional Transit 1976
Baltimore Metro Subway 1979
Seattle Center Monorail 1980
Regular
In the summer of 1969, a highway surveyor named Earl Maddox drove 1,412 miles across the American interior with a 16mm camera mounted to the passenger window of a government-issued Ford Galaxie. His assignment, issued by the Visual Standards Division of the Department of Transportation under Ref. No. HWY–VIS–69–D, was straightforward: document signage legibility at speeds above 55 miles per hour, across a representative cross-section of federal highway, state road, and municipal arterial environments. He was given 28 days, a daily allowance of $14.00, and three boxes of Kodak Plus-X film. Maddox was not a designer. He had studied civil engineering at the University of Nebraska and spent the previous eleven years conducting road surface inspections for the Federal Highway Administration. He was chosen for the assignment not for any expertise in typography or visual communication, but because he owned a valid commercial driver's license, had a clean expense record, and according to his supervisor, Regional Director Carl Ennis, "wasn't the type to get distracted by things that didn't matter." He left Washington on June 3rd. His route took him west along Interstate 70, through Columbus and Indianapolis, across the flat midsection of Illinois, and into Missouri. From there he turned south, following state highways through Arkansas and into Oklahoma before cutting west again toward Amarillo. He photographed continuously from dawn to dusk, stopping only for fuel and, occasionally, to eat. His notes, kept in a standard-issue field ledger, record the date, location, speed, light conditions, and a brief description of each sign documented. The entries are almost entirely without editorial comment. June 7th, near Terre Haute, Indiana: "Exit 7 (West). Green retroreflective. Franklin Gothic Condensed. Legible at 400 ft. Slight curl at lower right corner of panel. Wind." June 14th, west of Tulsa, Oklahoma: "Advisory sign. Black on yellow. Speed 45. Font unidentified possibly Highway Gothic variant. Observed from 0.3 mi. No degradation." June 19th, just outside Tucumcari, New Mexico: "Damaged panel. Half the letter E on 'EAST' missing. Replaced with hand-painted approximation in different brush size. Legible. Just." The photographs 1,108 frames in total were developed and printed at a contractor facility in Silver Spring, Maryland, in September of 1969. They were reviewed by a three-person committee within the Division, assigned a classification of Restricted (Class B), and filed in a climate-controlled cabinet designated for visual research materials. A summary report, eleven pages long, was distributed to six senior offices within the Department. Its principal finding was that Franklin Gothic Condensed, in white or yellow on dark backgrounds, consistently outperformed all other typefaces observed at highway speeds, particularly in conditions of low contrast or partial illumination. The report recommended further study. No further study was commissioned. Maddox retired in 1981. He had, by that point, driven an estimated 340,000 miles in the service of the Federal Highway Administration. At his retirement reception, held in a conference room on the fourth floor of the Washington headquarters, Carl Ennis said that Earl had "seen more of this country than most people see in ten lifetimes, and probably thought less of it." It was meant as a compliment. The cabinet containing the 1969 photographs was relocated twice: first in 1977, when the Silver Spring annex was reorganized following a budget review, and again in 1989, when the building was partially renovated. It was last inventoried in 1994, at which point the record indicates the presence of twelve folders under the HWY–VIS designation, including one labeled 69–D. Its current location is not confirmed.
Italic
Her study, formally titled Typographic Variance in Active Transit Environments (Survey Period: March–November 1986), examined 127 stations across all five boroughs. It was funded by a small internal grant within the Board, supplemented by a modest contribution from the Urban Design Laboratory at Columbia. Its total budget was $6,200. Wolfe conducted most of the fieldwork herself, accompanied on approximately forty occasions by a graduate student named Darnell Okafor, who later wrote a brief account of the project in the journal Environmental Graphics Quarterly (Vol. 3, No. 2, 1991). What Wolfe found, and documented across more than 2,100 individual observations, was a system in a state of continuous, unintentional revision. The Vignelli–Noorda signage program, implemented from 1966 onward, had specified Helvetica Medium throughout: black panels, white type, a consistent grid extending across all lines and all boroughs. It had been designed as a closed system complete, internally coherent, resistant to improvisation. Within a decade, it had begun to come apart. The causes were mundane. Transfer sheets ran out and were replaced with whatever was available. Panels were damaged and reproduced locally, by contractors who used the closest available typeface rather than the specified one. Maintenance crews repainted station names freehand when the original enamel chipped. In at least six stations, Wolfe documented the simultaneous presence of three distinct typographic interpretations of the same station name within a single platform environment. At 42nd Street–Bryant Park, she counted four. Her data set recorded not only font family but weight, size, spacing, contrast ratio, and what she called "condition grade" a five-point scale rating the physical state of each sign, from pristine to illegible. The findings were counterintuitive. Riders, she concluded, did not rely primarily on typographic consistency to navigate the system. They relied on color, spatial position, and accumulated familiarity. A sign set in condensed Franklin Gothic, well-lit and high-contrast, was read 0.7 seconds faster than a Helvetica panel of equivalent size in poor light. The font mattered less than the conditions. Recognition preceded reading. Wolfe presented her findings at a conference on environmental graphics in Philadelphia in April 1987. The presentation lasted twenty-two minutes. There were, she later recalled, perhaps forty people in the room. One asked a question about kerning. The study was published internally by the Metropolitan Design Review Board in a limited edition of 150 copies, spiral-bound, with a pale blue cover. It has not been digitized.
Regular
What connects Maddox's photographs and Wolfe's survey is not methodology, and not even subject matter in any strict sense. What connects them is a shared attention to the moment when a designed system meets the world it was designed for, and begins, inevitably, to change. Both projects documented type in use: not type as conceived, not type as specified in a standards manual distributed to 120 regional offices with a brass fastener through the upper left corner, but type as it actually exists in the world, aged and repainted and substituted and approximated by people who needed it to work and did not have time to wait for the correct transfer sheets. Type on signs is not type on paper. It ages differently. It is read at speed, in bad light, by people who are not looking for it. It competes with weather and maintenance schedules and the practical decisions of workers who were never trained as designers and were simply trying to get the sign back up before morning service. Over time, the original specification becomes one voice among several, still present, still partially legible, but no longer alone. The Helvetica that Vignelli specified sits alongside the Franklin Gothic that someone found in the supply room in 1978, alongside the hand-lettered approximation that a maintenance crew applied in 1983 when there was nothing else available. All three are there. All three, more or less, work. This is not failure. It is, in a recognizable sense, the system doing what systems do when they are used by people over time. The information persists. People find their trains. The name of the station is readable in whatever form it currently takes, faded or repainted, Helvetica or Gothic or something in between. The original designer is not present. The specification manual may or may not be in a cabinet somewhere in Maryland. None of that is the point. The point is the sign, and whether you can read it, and whether you make your connection. Earl Maddox photographed 1,108 signs from the window of a moving car and filed the results in a cabinet that has not been formally located in thirty years. Patricia Wolfe examined 127 stations on foot and published her findings in 150 copies that almost nobody read. Between them they documented something that neither was precisely commissioned to document: the full, ordinary, unglamorous life of public type. The exits and the platform names and the warnings and the distances to the next town. The language of American civic space, revised continuously, authored by no one in particular, maintained by everyone and no one. Judith Carver wrote in the Industrial Communication Journal in 1974 that the goal was never beauty. The goal was recognition at sixty miles per hour. She was right, and the qualification is important: sixty miles per hour, not standing still in a gallery. Type that works at speed, in changing light, with a viewer who has other things on their mind. Clin was drawn with that condition in mind. Not as a historical reconstruction of any particular era or system, but as a working typeface for the circumstances that Maddox and Wolfe both documented: public space, imperfect conditions, information that needs to arrive.
Medium
COTTWELL
INTERSTATE
Medium
LINE
SUSPENDED
Medium
Letters from the Plains
Smithsonian Archives, Washington
Edited by Cora L. Gaines
Medium
The Western Grid Atlas
Bureau of Land
Management, Utah
Published 1956
Offset Printing Division
Highway Survey
Department of
Transportation, D.C.
Compiled 1972
For Internal Distribution
Letters from the Plains
Smithsonian Archives,
Washington
Edited by Cora L. Gaines
Printed in Baltimore
Medium
Urban Light Study
Los Angeles County
Museum
Photography Unit
Filed 1983
The Museum Sleeps,
Photographs by
Theo Mertens Edition Grey;
Supported by AAFund
Manual
Industrial Standards
American Steel
Corporation, Ohio
Revised Edition
Technical Press, Detroit
Urban Light Study
Los Angeles County
Museum
Photography Unit
Filed 1983
Medium
The Blue Motel
Register Interstate 40,
New Mexico
Collected by C.W. Harper
Roadside Documentation
Federal Communication
Bell Laboratories,
New Jersey
Issued April 1964
Printed in U.S.A.
Rivers Inventory
National Park Service,
Colorado
Hydrology Department
Revised Map Series 1979
Medium
Modern Housing Forms
University of Illinois Press
Architectural Research
Midwestern Design Study
Curated by Mark Deane
Civic Monument Index
National Endowment
for the Arts
Public Works Department
Surveyed 1984
American Night Catalog
Museum of Modern
Photography, Chicago
Offset Print on News Stock
Medium
Federal Highway Administration
Ministry of Transport
Department of the Environment
Bundesministerium für Verkehr
Ministère de l'Équipement
Ministry of Land (Rev. 1969)
Medium
(1986)
Field Survey,
COMPARATIVE
REFERENCE
Medium
Her methodology was considered informal by the standards of the field at the time. She had no research assistant and no institutional affiliation beyond a part-time lecturer position at MIT. The stopwatch was her own. The notebook was a standard Mead composition book, college-ruled, which she had purchased at a drugstore on Michigan Avenue on the first morning of the observation period. She used four of them over the two weeks. They are now held, along with the rest of her papers, in the Special Collections of the MIT Libraries (Accession No. MC-0774, Box 3, Folders 12–15). The paper itself, published in the Industrial Communication Journal in the spring of 1974 (Vol. 8, No. 1), runs to twelve pages including footnotes and a single figure, a bar chart comparing average orientation times across six typeface conditions. Carver's prose is characteristically spare. She rarely uses more words than the observation requires. The conclusion occupies half a page and ends with a sentence that has since been quoted in at least fourteen subsequent publications, most of them in fields she did not consider herself to be writing for: "The goal was never beauty. The goal was recognition at sixty miles per hour."
Medium
The Signage Division of the Detroit Department of Public Works was established in February 1967, by a budget line item of $34,000 approved at the January meeting of the City Council. Its initial staff consisted of three people: a division chief named Howard Pruitt, a draftsman named George Selby, and a part-time administrative assistant whose name does not appear consistently in the surviving records (she is referred to in various documents as Miss Arnett, M. Arnett, and, in one undated memorandum, simply as the assistant). The Division's mandate, as written in the establishing resolution, was to develop and maintain a consistent system of visual information for streets, municipal buildings, transit facilities, and public spaces within the city limits. The resolution noted that the existing signage across Detroit's public infrastructure had been installed piecemeal over several decades and displayed what it described as a lack of visual coherence. This was a restrained characterization. A survey conducted by Pruitt in March 1967 (Survey Report No. 1, filed April 4th, 1967, 22 pages plus appendix) documented seventeen distinct typefaces in use across the city's street signage alone, ranging from a painted serif that appeared to date from the 1930s to a recent sans-serif installation completed by a private contractor in 1965 using a typeface that Pruitt's report described only as commercial gothic, source unknown.
Medium Italic
In the spring of 1953, the Bureau of Land Management in Washington authorized the production of a new series of land survey maps for the intermountain west, covering an area of approximately 340,000 square miles across Utah, Nevada, and portions of Idaho and Wyoming. The project, designated Atlas Series G (Western Interior), was assigned to the Bureau's regional office in Salt Lake City, which at that time employed eleven cartographers, three draftsmen, and a printing staff of six operating two offset presses in a building on South State Street that had previously housed a commercial printing firm specializing in grain elevator receipts and county fair programs. The lead cartographer on the project was a man named Alvin Cord, who had been with the Bureau since 1941 and had spent the intervening years producing survey maps of unremarkable accuracy and exemplary tidiness. Cord was known within the office for his lettering. In an era before phototypesetting was available to government mapping offices, all text on survey maps, place names, elevation markers, grid references, township designations, was applied by hand, using a combination of technical drawing pens and, for larger annotations, a Wrico lettering guide. Cord's lettering was considered among the best in the regional offices, and he had been asked on three occasions by colleagues in the Denver and Sacramento offices to provide reference sheets showing his letterform proportions. He produced these sheets on his own time and distributed them without charge.
Medium
1
Medium
2
SemiBold
Atlas Series G required the lettering of approximately 14,000 individual place names, 80,000 elevation markers, and an undetermined number of grid and reference annotations across 47 map sheets, each measuring 24 by 36 inches at final printed size. The project was allocated three years and a budget of $41,200 (Ref. BLM-SLC-1953-G). It was completed in February 1956, two months ahead of schedule and $3,100 under budget. The cost saving was returned to the regional office general fund. The maps were printed in two passes on the Bureau's larger offset press: a black impression for all linework and text, and a second impression in a warm brown (PMS equivalent not recorded, described in production notes simply as survey tan) for elevation shading. The paper stock was a 100-pound coated sheet supplied by a mill in Ogden. Print run was 1,800 copies per sheet, with an additional 200 copies of each sheet reserved for distribution to state and federal agencies. Total distribution covered offices in UT, NV, ID, WY, CO, and the Washington headquarters.
SemiBold
Cord lettered all 47 sheets himself, working in a sequence he had developed over the previous decade: township and range designations first, then major place names, then elevation markers in descending order of prominence, then minor annotations and grid references last. He worked at a drafting table positioned under a north-facing window for consistent light. He did not use a lightbox. He did not trace. A colleague, interviewed decades later for an internal Bureau history project (BLM Oral History Program, Interview No. 34, recorded 1988), recalled that Cord's drafting table was the tidiest in the office and that he had a habit of cleaning his pens at precisely 10 in the morning and 3 in the afternoon, regardless of what stage of work he was in. The Atlas G series was in active use by the Bureau and by state agencies until the early 1970s, when aerial survey and photogrammetric techniques began to produce mapping of greater precision. Several sheets were revised and reissued in 1961 and again in 1968 as new survey data became available. The revisions were not lettered by Cord. He had retired in 1963. The 1961 revisions were produced by a draftsman named T. Wallis, whose lettering is noticeably more mechanical than Cord's and whose elevation markers are slightly larger than the original specification. The 1968 revisions introduced phototypeset text for the first time, set in a condensed gothic that does not match the original hand lettering in weight or proportion. The transition is visible on any sheet that spans both eras.
Medium
Judith Carver, "People Read What They Trust", Industrial Communication Journal, Vol. 8, Washington, 1974, pp. 41–52. Richard Hollins, Internal Memorandum, Metropolitan Transit Authority, New York, 1985.
Bold
Federal Standard No. 4
Visual Standards Division
Survey No. 86-MTA-127
Restricted (Class B)
Filed 14 Aug. 1969
Offset Printing Division™
Letters from the Plains
Bureau of Land Management
Internal Distribution Only
Wayfinding Standards
Metropolitan Transit ©
Urban Transit Lab, 1952
Smithsonian Archives (DC)
Industrial Communication
For Internal Use Only
Recognition at Speed
Accession No. 1961-04-B
For Internal Use Only
Port of Entry
Environmental Graphics
Bold
06:04 Hudson Gate
06:11 Atlantic Ave
06:22 Liberty Line
06:35 West Point
06:41 Metro Square
06:47 Bronx Heights
06:53 Queens Plaza
07:02 Riverside South
07:09 Hudson Gate
07:14 Union Terminal
07:21 Atlantic Ave
07:28 Broadway West
07:33 Park Hill
07:40 East River
07:46 Grand Station
07:52 Midtown East
08:01 Liberty Line
08:08 Harlem Cross
08:14 Hudson Gate
08:19 Queens Plaza
08:25 Flatbush Ave
08:31 Bay Ridge
08:38 Fort Hamilton
08:44 Pelham Bay
08:50 Woodlawn
08:57 Flushing Main
09:03 Jamaica Center
09:09 Howard Beach
09:15 Rockaway Blvd
09:22 Far Rockaway
Bold
On Time
Delayed
Cancelled
Boarding
Departed
Last Train
No Service
All Doors
Change Here
Next Train
Proceed
Stand Clear
Terminating
Do Not Enter
Out of Service
Express Only
Doors Closing
Hold Train
Track Change
Suspended
Bold
Port Authority
8 West 40th Street
Restricted / Class B
SemiBold
Metropolitan Design Review Board, Survey No. 86-MTA-127, New York City Transit, Brooklyn, NY, 1986, 2,100 observations, 127 stations. George Selby, Signage Division Records, Dept. of Public Works, Detroit, MI, 1967–1971.
SemiBold
Bureau of Land Management, Atlas Series G, Western Interior, Offset Printing Division, Salt Lake City, UT, 1956, 47 sheets. T. Wallis, Revised Lettering Specification, BLM Regional Office, Salt Lake City, UT, 1961, pp. 1–8.
SemiBold
Dorothy Ennis, Field Survey Notes, Highway Survey Division, Silver Spring, MD, 1969–1972, Ref. HWY-VIS-69-D. Richard Hollins, "Order Lasts About as Long as the Paint Does", Internal Memorandum, New York, 1985.
SemiBold
Cora L. Gaines, ed., Letters from the Plains, Smithsonian Archives, Washington D.C., printed in Baltimore, 1961, pp. 1–214. Urban Transit Lab, Memorandum 7 (Draft B), Re: Dynamic Kerning, Columbia University, New York, 1992.
Medium
➊
➌
Medium
➋
➍
Regular
Colophon
Medium
Survey Director
Earl Maddox
Field Research
Dorothy Ennis
George Selby
Documentation
Patricia Wolfe
Howard Pruitt
Survey Analysis
Judith Carver
Richard Hollins
Editorial
Cora L. Gaines
Cartography
Alvin Cord
T. Wallis
Sound Engineering
Curtis Webb
Archive Management
Darnell Okafor
Distribution
Carl Ennis
Regional Director
Published by
Bureau of Land Management
Dept. of Transportation
Medium
Visual Standards Manual No. 4
Washington D.C., 1973
Print Run: 2,500
Two Inks Only
PMS 286 U + Black
Brass Fastener, Upper Left
Distributed to 120 Offices
Restricted (Class B)
Field Survey HWY-VIS-69-D
Silver Spring, MD, 1969
1,108 Frames Exposed
Kodak Plus-X Film
Ford Galaxie, Gov. Issue
Odometer: 1,412 mi
Filed 14 Aug. 1969
Last Inventoried 1994
Survey No. 86-MTA-127
New York City Transit
Brooklyn, NY, 1986
127 Stations Examined
240 Typographic Variations
2,100 Observations
Published Internally
150 Copies Only
Atlas Series G
Bureau of Land Management
Salt Lake City, UT, 1956
47 Map Sheets
24 x 36 inches
Print Run: 1,800
Offset Printing Division
$41,200 (Ref. BLM-SLC-1953-G)
Medium
Earl Maddox US
Judith Carver US
Patricia Wolfe US
Richard Hollins US
Howard Pruitt US
George Selby US
Carl Ennis US
Dorothy Ennis US
Cora L. Gaines US
Alvin Cord US
T. Wallis US
Darnell Okafor US
Curtis Webb US
Gerald Oates US
Raymond Lyle US
Desmond Farr US
Ellen Price US
Marko Jensen US
Tilda Novak US
Ryo Matsuda US
Hannah Cole US
Jonas Trapp US
Massimo Vignelli ITUS
Bob Noorda NL IT
Judith Carver US
Frank Lloyd US
Helen Crane US
Thomas Maddox US
Susan Cord US
Margaret Pruitt US
William Selby US
Patricia Ann Wolfe US
James Hollins US
Edward Okafor US
Charles Webb US