On Davidson Avenue, one mile east of Highway 164 and East Main Street Intersection, sits the entrance to Hillcrest Park, home of the now defunct Nike Missile Base, known to the Waukesha, Wisconsin locals as The Old Hillcrest Doom Tower. From 1956 to 1964 the...
One of my least favorite parts about being a middle school history teacher is the bullshit “Living History” assignments we give at the end of every school year. Kids are supposed to sit with their grandparents and video tape, voice record, or transcribe their oldest...
When I was a child there was nothing to eat. I was the eldest of five, so it was my job to make sure that I always let my brothers and sisters eat before me. War was inching inward from the coast, and as it...
My grandfather is 95 years old and doesn't have long left in this world. There’s nothing but a mess of tubes and wires to tether him here with us. It’s difficult for him to speak, but each rasping whisper carries a severe weight that cannot...
Avraham looked about his new laboratory with both pride and trepidation. In the dim light, he could make out the shapes of tables, crates, and the special piece of equipment that he had requested – all draped under sheets to keep the dust off. He...
Laura pulled her cellphone out of its storage compartment and queued up the first video before wondering if she really should watch it again. They had, technically, only been in space for eight hours with another seventy-two yet to go and she’d already viewed the...
“Better Run Through the Jungle” My name is Michael Hasford. I am seventy-two years old and I have terminal bowel cancer. I haven’t told anyone this story in nearly fifty years, the last time being before I was made to sign the State Secrets Act and...
A bomb went off in the city. It happened on Monday. Today is Thursday. My dad was there. He hasn’t come back yet. I’ve been sitting at the window every day waiting for him to come home. Mom says the bomb interrupted the electric grid in the...