In 1847, at the Battle of Cerro Gordo during the Mexican War, soldiers from the Fourth Regiment Illinois Volunteers sneaked behind enemy lines and emerged with the Mexican commander’s leg. It wasn’t as grisly as it sounds: the leg was artificial and the general, Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, wasn’t wearing it at the time. […]
Author Archives: S.L. Wisenberg
In Print: Thomas Lynch’s twin undertakings
“When I die,” undertaker Edward Lynch told his sons, “you’ll know what to do.” And they did. The widowed Lynch’s heart gave out when he was vacationing in Florida with a friend. She called his children in Milford, Michigan, and two of the sons of Lynch & Sons Funeral Directors flew down with their embalmer’s […]
A Tale of Two Women
Hannah Senesh is one of Monica Lewensky’s personal heroes. What would Senesh say about Monica?
In Print: the poetry of unexamined lives
Short, white-haired, plainspoken Grace Paley is the patron saint–or the feminist, pacifist, leftist, Jewish matron saint–of those of us who believe in combining the artistic and the activist life. (Not that we necessarily do it, but we believe in it.) There’s the Paley whose last fiction collection was a National Book Award finalist, and the […]
Reel Life: their voices still carry
In 1927, when American popular music was the rage in Europe, an acting student in Berlin decided to create a German version of the Revelers, a male vocal quartet from the U.S. That student, Harry Frommermann, had a strange and enchanting ability to imitate musical instruments with his hands and mouth, and he’d already written […]
In Print: opening the past’s iron box
Back between the two world wars was a great time to be a Czechoslovakian citizen. The republic had been born in 1918, headed by president Tomas Masaryk, who was not only a democrat but a feminist. Czech had become the national language, blossoming after its second-class status to German under the Austro-Hungarian empire. The new […]
The Long Goodbye
My father wasn’t there, but it took us all a fwe days to figure it out; his eyes kept getting more and more clouded over until there was no way he could come back to life, ever, not with eyes leaving him like that.
On Exhibit: a few things we know about Harry Houdini
These Parts/Appleton, WI
Incivility at ‘BEZ
To the editors: I am writing in response to David Whiteis’s defense of the violence of the blues. In his letter December 17, he said rather eloquently that “only by passing bravely through the darkness can we hope to apprehend the light.” I agree. Life is a torment, our urges can be violent, and through […]
Conference Calls: where artists and revolutionaries meet
One day toward the end of the Bush era, Donna Blue called New York looking for the revolution. She had lost track of it sometime after her guerrilla theater days in the late 60s, when she had, among other acts of antiwar, dressed as a Vietnamese woman and wailed through the halls of the Capitol […]