Tag Archives: 1960s

MISSILE AWAY by Peter Nolan Smith

During his youth my older brother was a pyromaniac. Frunk nearly burned down each of our houses and those of our neighbors on several occasions. Each time my mother punished us both with a wooden spoon and my father sternly admonished our incendiary behavior, yet my older brother was undeterred by cracks across the knuckles […]

A Baguette and Butter

In the Sixties on the South Shore my Irish grandmother Nana used to serve her grandchildren sugary tea and buttered Wonder Bread toast upon our return from parochial school. We dipped the crisp slices into the sweet milky tea and each bite revived our bodies and souls from eight hours under the nuns and the […]

Danger Mr. Smith

The 1960s Space Race between the USSR and USA exterminated young boys’ worship of westerns. Cowboy hats, vests, guns, and holsters were retired to the closet next to toy boats and teddy bears. I pleaded with my parents for an astronaut costume for Halloween and my father answered my dream with a gleaming space suit […]

Paving Over Paradise

My first visit to Bangkok was in 1990. I stayed at the Malaysia Hotel on Soi Duplei, once the 60s haunt of the infamous backpacker murderer Charles Sobhraj. The trees were bordered by sylvan compounds and I played basketball at the military school next to the Lumpini Muay-Thai stadium. Patpong was a twenty-minute walk through […]

LOSING GOD by Peter Nolan Smith

A week before Christmas of 1967 I received my midterm report card from Our Lord’s Health High School. Having a stutter and stammer I had been expecting worst, however Bruder Karl had graciously passed me with a D+ in German. I was surprised to see that Brother Valentine had failed me in religion as well […]