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Thursday, January 31, 2013

Dinner with Marga's Family


“A hero?” said Grandpa nearly dropping his fork. “Killing a man in cold blood makes no one a hero.”
“Herschel?” asked Zammie.
          “You think we should just stand back and take this treatment, father?” asked Frederick, ignoring Zammie’s question. “They boycott our businesses. They take away our citizenship. At what point do we say ‘enough’? Something must be done. We are Germans. No different than them!”
“Of course, Frederick,” said Grandpa, “but ‘doing something’ doesn’t mean killing a man. You’ll see this will give them free license.” Grandpa glanced at the front of the house. “As soon as we’re done eating we need to close the shutters. And don’t answer the door tonight.”
“What for?” asked Frederick. “You want to go into hiding? You think that will save us?”
“Enough. No yelling in front of the guests, please,” said Grandma.
“We’re not yelling, mother,” said Frederick.
Zammie was enjoying the hearty kishka sausages and potatoes he was given when he decided to speak up. “Excuse me. So that man that Herschel shot died?”
“Yes,” said Frederick. “Just a few hours ago, they said.”
“And now you watch what the Nazis will do,” said Grandpa. “Any excuse to tighten their grip on us.”

-- Dinner with Marga's family
from Time Trip #4: Killing for Country



TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 4
KILLING FOR COUNTRY  
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 1
THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 2
A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 3
WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 
Available at Amazon.com!  

Thursday, January 24, 2013

An Herbal Remedy


Harriet looked out the window and watched the ongoing ruckus at the courthouse until they rounded a corner preventing her from seeing the building anymore. She turned back to Claudia who was sitting across from her. “Where are you taking us?” she asked.
          “The rail station, Miss Harriet.”
  “Rail station? Where we gonna go?”
          “Further north,” said Claudia. “It ain’t safe for you here no more.”
          “You need to wrap that arm, Robert,” said Jane. She had noticed that the blood was trickling all the way down his arm and onto the leather seat of the carriage.
          “It ain’t that bad,” said Robert.
          “No, she’s right,” said Harriet.
  “Here,” said Claudia. She handed Robert the small blue linen sheet that she had been using as a scarf.
  “No, Claudia, I can’t take your scarf,” said Robert.
Claudia handed the scarf to Harriet. “Will you make him use this, Miss Harriet?”
  “You’re an angel, Claudia,” said Harriet. She took the scarf and began digging in her coat pockets where she kept her small vials of paregoric and other herbal remedies. Kyla and Zammie watched in rapt amazement as she pulled out a small green vial and dabbed some of the jelly-like substance inside on the scarf. Then she had Robert straighten out his arm as best he could and tied the scarf around the wound tightly with the jelly portion pressed against the wound. The cut was across his lower shoulder so Harriet tied the scarf around his bicep.
  “What is that stuff, Harriet?” asked Robert. “Smells like bad cabbage.”
  “Wormwood, Beth Root, an’ some other things,” said Harriet. “It’ll help ya heal so never you mind the smell.”

--An Herbal Remedy
from Time Trip #2: A Ride on the Underground Railroad




TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 4
KILLING FOR COUNTRY  
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 1
THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 2
A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 3
WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 
Available at Amazon.com!  

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

The Ghost Tale of Kuchisake-onna


No chance of going to sleep early. That night the children gathered around a single paper lantern in the front room to tell ghost stories. Sadako’s fifteen-year-old brother Masahiro and nine-year-old sister Mitsue had also joined them. Their youngest brother, six-year-old Eiji, had been put to bed earlier by their parents.
          “Sadako, you remember that boy Hideki, don’t you?” asked Masahiro. “His hair always stuck out in the back. I think he was a year older than you.”
“Yeah.”
The flickering of the candle cast long shadows across Masahiro’s face as he spoke. “Have you noticed that no one has seen him in a while?”
“Yeah. Auntie Chizuko told me he moved to Yonago.”
“Nope. I heard the other day what really happened to him.”
“What?”
“A couple weeks ago his parents sent him down to the market after school. He was just supposed to get some eggs and flour for okonomiyaki pancakes and then return straight home. But after leaving the market he stopped into the arcade where those old men play card games and gamble their money.”
“Yeah?”
“He stayed there for hours playing games and wasting time with the other kids. Before he knew it, it was dark outside and he still had to walk home. When he turned the corner off of Blossom Street and began walking along that lonely dirt path he ran into a woman who was standing in the shadows of the muku trees.”
“Yeah?”
“The woman had long, straight hair. And she wore a dark red kimono. But her face was covered with a white nurse’s mask. All Hideki could see was her eyes. And the woman asked him, ‘Young man, do you think I am beautiful?’ And Hideki said, ‘I’m sorry ma’am, but I can’t see your face.’ The woman repeated the question. ‘Do you think I am beautiful?’ Hideki thought she was playing a joke on him. He looked around, but there was no one else to be seen. So he decided to play along. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I think you’re beautiful.’ With that the woman ripped off the nurse’s mask exposing her grossly deformed face. Her mouth had been sliced open through the cheeks from ear to ear and her teeth were like rows of crooked yellow daggers. And her thick tongue was purple and bloated and flopped around in her mouth like a trout. ‘Do you think I am beautiful now?’ she asked him. The next day Hideki’s body was found in the sand by the Ota River. His parents had called the police when he didn’t show up that night. When they found him, he was dead. And his mouth had been cut open through the cheeks all the way up to his ears. And you know what the worst part is?”
“What?” asked Kyla.
“His body was taken to the morgue to be identified. But when the police returned with his parents, Hideki’s body was gone. And they say the next kid in this area who stays out after dark, and walks home alone, will be confronted by Hideki. And the cycle will continue.”
Mitsue and Kyla could barely move they were so scared. They were all silent for a moment until Zammie spoke up. “What a second . . . if Hideki was dead, and then disappeared, then how does anyone know about that woman?”
Sadako smiled. “Ah, Zammie, don’t ruin the story!”
“You’re thinking too much, Zammie,” said Masahiro.
“Ah, sorry,” said Zammie. He was grinning sheepishly.

--The Ghost Tale of Kuchisake-onna
from Time Trip #4: "Killing for Country"


"Kuchisake-onna" digital art by David Gaillet



TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 4
KILLING FOR COUNTRY  
To be released in March 2013

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 3
WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 
Available at Amazon.com!  

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

A Pilgrim's Grave


I woke up in the middle of the night craving a glass of water. My throat was parched and my tongue felt like it had been used to clean beach towels. I sat up from the straw mat I was sleeping on and looked around the dark cabin. I could hear the various members of the Brewster family sleeping soundly. The deep exhaustion felt at the end of each day’s hard labor was enough to put the most anxious person out like a light.
          I threw on my wool overcoat and grabbed a tin cup that sat on top of the wooden chest before making my way towards the brook outside. The wind was freezing cold, and the last remnants of the previous snowfall could still be seen on the ground. There were a couple torches burning by the infirmary, but otherwise it was very dark. The moon could barely be seen as it played hide and seek behind the gliding clouds. I could hear the waves of the bay crashing onto shore in the distance.
          I stepped through the grass and snow wearing my thickest wool stockings. I found the brook and dipped my cup into the running water. Delicious! And freezing! I looked inland away from the village and thought about how I was on the edge of a wide open forest where wild bears and wolves lived. There was no wildlife control and no modern cities west of us. At that particular moment I had no real protection at all. A gust of wind hit me that sent chills down my neck and shoulders. I quickly turned around to make my way back to the Brewster cabin.
As I passed the graveyard I heard a whimpering sound and I nearly screamed in panic. Ghosts in the graveyard! I knew it! The Pilgrims did their best to hide how many of them had died, but they did make some subtle markings in an area next to the village where they buried their dead. While the Indians may not have known where our dead were kept or how many there were, we certainly did. I did my best to avoid the grave site during the day. At night it was even creepier. It was filled with the emaciated bodies of men, women, and children I had known, some of whom had passed away before my eyes. The wind-blown clouds created shifting moon shadows through the trees. I heard an owl hooting in the darkness. If there were any ghosts roaming about, this would be the ideal spot for them.
I had almost made it back to the Brewster cabin when I heard the whimpering again. This time I stopped because there was something about it that didn’t sit right with me. Could it have been a restless spirit walking amongst the graves? I had another feeling what it may have been.
I took one of the burning torches that were hanging by the door of the infirmary. I gathered my courage and walked down the small hill towards the grounds where the graves were made. There were a couple small crosses sticking out of the ground that some of the families had used as markers. The outlines of freshly dug pits could still be seen from where two more people had been buried the day before. 
The whimpering grew louder as I approached. I knew for sure now that it wasn’t just my imagination. Cautiously, I stepped over and around the places where I knew people had been buried until I found where the sobbing had been coming from. I lifted the torch above my head to spread the light and I saw the cowering outline of a person kneeling on the ground. I walked closer until I recognized who it was.
          “Elizabeth?”
          She wiped her eyes and looked up at me.
          “Kyla?”
          “Why are you out here? You’ll freeze.”
          “I don’t care.” She began to sob again. I then realized that she was knelt down on the grave of her mother.


-- A Pilgrim's Grave
from Time Trip #3: 
Witness to the First Thanksgiving



TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 4
KILLING FOR COUNTRY  
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 1
THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 2
A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 3
WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 
Available at Amazon.com!  

Thursday, January 17, 2013

Lunch Counter Sit-ins

February 1st, 1960, Greensboro NC.

Four students from North Carolina A&T sit down at a "whites-only" Woolworth's lunch counter and ask to be served. This action by David Richmond, Franklin McCain, Ezell Blair, and Joseph McNeil ignites a wave of student sit-ins and protests that flash like fire across the South. A fire for justice that no amount of beatings, jails, or fire hoses  can extinguish. Within days sit-ins are occurring in dozens of Southern towns, and in the North supporting picket-lines spring up at Woolworth and Kress stores from New York to San Francisco.

Just days after the Greensboro sit-in, students from American Baptist Theologic Seminary, Fisk University, Meharry Medical College, and Tennessee A&I begin confronting segregation in Nashville TN. They politely sit at "whites-only" lunch counters and restaurants. They are met with violence, brutality, and arrest. Hundreds are jailed, and thousands march in protests that continue for years.

--from CRMVET.org




Whites pour sugar, ketchup and mustard over the heads of sit-in demonstrators at a restaurant lunch counter in Jackson, Miss., in 1963.


Jean Wynona Fleming behind bars in the Nashville jail
     "Those students from Lane who were doing the sit-ins, they were the most disciplined young people I've ever seen in my life," said Parish, now retired and living in Franklin in Middle Tennessee. "They would sit there and ignore the taunts."
     The students had been trained to expect violence and to react peacefully. Each had agreed to a set of nonviolent principles based on the actions of Mahatma Gandhi and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
     Parish also acknowledged that the scene sometimes became ugly.
     "I can remember two or three occasions where it got out of hand, where hecklers came in there and would pick up tulip bulbs from a nearby counter and toss them at them.
     "I remember one time when somebody broke an egg over one guy's head and he just let it stream down his face and didn't say a thing or resist or anything."



Students busted for protesting segregation fill the Nashville jail to overflowing.


TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 1
THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 2
A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 3
WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 
Available at Amazon.com!  

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 4
KILLING FOR COUNTRY  
Available at Amazon.com! 

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Japanese Kabuki Theatre

Izumo no Okuni
There was a small stage set up on the other side of the street with actors wearing bright makeup and vibrant silk kimonos performing a play. A theatrical backdrop stood at the rear of the stage with a walkway that extended out towards the audience. The scene appeared to be a restaurant patio. There was a low dining table with female performers knelt down pretending to eat supper. A small band was playing a musical accompaniment off to the side of the stage. There was an older man playing a flute and a teenage boy playing a samisen. Another man held two wooden blocks that looked like large door stops. During various moments in the performance he would clap them together to create cues that even the audience reacted to by clapping or cheering.
“What kind of play is that?” asked Kyla. She was mesmerized by the outlandish white face paint and overly dramatic posturing by the actors.
“It’s Kabuki,” said Sadako. “You’ve never seen a Kabuki play?”
“No. Those women look creepy.” Kyla was staring at the thick women in their pink and green kimonos with cherry blossoms in their jet black hair. Their faces were white as snow and their lips were as red as blood.
“Ha! Those aren’t women, Kyla,” said Sadako. “Those are men.”

--from Time Trip #4: Killing For Country
                                  Available at Amazon.com! 


The Kabuki art form was created by Okuni, a female shrine attendant in the 17th century. Originally preformed in the dry bed of the Kamo river. Okuni, dressed in mens clothing and a christian rosary, preformed scenes of assignations with prostitutes. Kabuki, originally meaning "tilted" or "off-kilter", is now written with the three japanese characters music, dance, and craft or skill. During this time Kabuki was frowned upon for its immoral content in the confucian orientated culture of the time. So in 1629 the Tokugawa banned women from preforming in the style.



Kabuki plays are about historical events, moral conflicts, love relationships and the like. The actors use an old fashioned language which is difficult to understand even for some Japanese people. Actors speak in somewhat monotonous voices accompanied by traditional Japanese instruments. The costumes of the performers usually held the family crest of the actor, giving honor to the family.







TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 4
KILLING FOR COUNTRY  
Available at Amazon.com!
TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 1
THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 
Available at Amazon.com!
TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 2
A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD
Available at Amazon.com!
TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 3
WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 
Available at Amazon.com!  

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Japan's Road to War

The Road to War
JAPAN

A brief overview of Japan's military expansion into China and throughout southest Asia during the 1930s.




TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 4
KILLING FOR COUNTRY  
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 1
THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 2
A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 3
WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 
Available at Amazon.com!  

Friday, January 11, 2013

Twere well it were done quickly

"It is said, that to the condemned, in going to execution, the moments fly. To the good soldier, about to go into action, I am sure the moments linger. Let us not dare say, that with him, either individually or collectively, it is that 'mythical love of fighting,' poetical but fabulous; but rather, that it is nervous anxiety to solve the great issue as speedily as possible, without stopping to count the cost. The Macbeth principle -- 'Twere well it were done quickly -- holds quite as good in heroic action as in crime."
-- journal entry written by 
a member of Maj. Gen. George Pickett's staff

Pickett's Charge, July 3, 1863 - Civil War Trust


TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 4
KILLING FOR COUNTRY  
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 1
THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 2
A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 3
WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 
Available at Amazon.com!  



Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Civil War Women's Memorial

"It is well that war is so terrible, else we should grow too fond of it."
-- General Robert E. Lee


The Gettysburg Civil War Women’s Memorial
Sculpted by RON TUNISON
Dedicated in 2002
A larger than life-size bronze of Elizabeth Thorn located near the gatehouse of Evergreen Cemetery in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.

Elizabeth Thorn was six months pregnant when
she buried over 90 soldiers following the battle
of Gettysburg, PA. Thorn was chosen to represent
all women who served in various capacities during
the Civil War.




TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 4
KILLING FOR COUNTRY  
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 1
THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 2
A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 3
WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 
Available at Amazon.com!  


Monday, January 7, 2013

Now, Zammie! Shoot it now!


Tisquantum made a signal to me step back behind the large oak I was next to and prepare to shoot. Then he silently signaled to the other Indians to move to the far side of the deer. To do this, the three men crawled on their bellies like lizards. They moved slowly and deftly through the trees while the deer continued to feed in the open meadow. The sweat was dripping down the sides of my head and into my headband as I patiently waited. I breathed slowly, careful not to move a muscle. If I did anything to scare those deer off now I would lose all face before the others.
Once they had positioned themselves on the opposite side of the deer from me, Tisquantum and the other hunters jumped to their feet and began whooping and running towards the deer. Both deer looked to flee but they were surrounded on three sides so they began sprinting into the trees in the only direction available to them. Straight towards me.
I quickly realized what was happening. I readied my bow and kept hidden behind the oak. I peered around the tree and saw both deer bounding in my direction.
I gathered my nerve, stepped out from the tree, and took aim at the closest deer. It was the large buck. Man, it was a magnificent animal in motion, darting through the trees like a fish through water. Strong and powerful.
It was barely ten yards away. It saw me and changed its direction. 
Now, Zammie! Shoot it now!
I released the arrow and it zipped through the dangling tree leaves in a straight line. It found its target and landed flush into the upper neck of the deer. The animal’s legs buckled and it made a weird bleating sound that broke my heart before crashing headfirst into the ground. The female had also changed direction, and in an instant she had vanished into the forest.
Tisquantum and the other Indians swooped through the trees like lightning strikes and finished off the buck with a short spear before it had a chance to recover and run away. It was a huge animal, and every part of it would be used by the Natives: the meat and the innards to eat, the bladder was used as a pouch, the fur and skin for clothing, the antlers and hooves for decorative apparel, the sinews for sewing and bow strings, and even the bones would be used to create tools or toys.
“A good catch,” said Quadequina. He had been looking at the face and antlers attempting to determine the age. The arrow had penetrated right through the neck and was beginning to poke out on the opposite side.
My adrenaline levels had never been higher. My hands were trembling with energy and I swear I couldn’t feel the ground as I walked. 

-- Hunting Trip
from Time Trip #3: Witness to the First Thanksgiving



TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 4
KILLING FOR COUNTRY  
Available at Amazon.com

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 1
THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 2
A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD
Available at Amazon.com!

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 3
WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 
Available at Amazon.com!