Tag Archives: 1971

THE SMELL OF MOONSHINE by Peter Nolan Smith

Back in the late 50s my Irish grandmother took my older brother and me for a monthly visit to downtown Boston. We left her house in Jamaica Plains and rode the trolley into Boylston Street. The El from Forest Hills to Washington Street was quicker, but Nana preferred the trolley. My late grandfather had driven […]

WHEN FAT MEN FLY by Peter Nolan Smith / Chapter 1

Fat people were a rarity in 1970. Jonathan Winters was the only one appearing on TV, none resided in my neighborhood south of Boston, and only a few attended my university. I had one fat friend. His name was Wayne. He made me laugh, but I never thought of him as fat. Chubby, but not […]

WHEN FAT MEN FLY by Peter Nolan Smith / Chapter 5

The next five days passed with increasing slowness, especially at work. I arrived on time in the morning and punched out at 5pm every night. My father and I met my mother for dinner at Joe Tecchi?s in the North End on Wednesday evening. We talked politics. Both had voted for Nixon. They were pro-war. […]

Aurora Borealis Maine July 4, 1971

On the 4th of July in 1971 John Gilmore, Mark McLaughlin, and Tommie Jordan and I left the South Shore of Boston to holiday in Maine. A large store in New Hampshire sold fireworks. John purchased $20 worth of M-80s and various rockets. The four of us stopped at my grandmother’s cabin on Watchic Pond […]

Damn Les Habitants

My introduction to French was via the heavy accent of a cartoon skunk, who appeared on TV every Saturday morning during the 1950s. Pepe Le Pew never got the girl. Skunks smelled bad and supposedly the French also never bathed with soap. I knew little else of France. That country lay across the Atlantic Ocean, […]