Were there really four airports here? Was the Staten Island Airport shut down each night to ensure no peril to the patrons of the drive-in theater? Is there truly a 150 foot dormant tunnel under the harbor between Staten Island and Brooklyn with the entrance capped in Brooklyn? In the 1930's, Which of Staten Island's best known restaurateurs, bought a house across the street from his famous restaurant and built a 200-foot tunnel between the house and the restaurant so that he could safely carry the day's receipts from the restaurant to his home. Did President John Kennedy, sip coffee at the St. George ferry terminal? Can you believe that a famous Island milk company resorted to rowboats to delivery milk to areas from Oakwood to Midland Beach during some of the worst storms to every hit that area? Did Buffalo Bill Cody and Annie Oakley have a Wild West show in 1886 down at Erastina (Mariners Harbor)? In what year was a bomb actually exploded on a Staten Island Ferry?
This story begins in 1881 when the author's father was born in Southampton, England. He immigrated to Canada, settled in Saskatchewan, raised a family-Agnes, being the youngest-growing up on a prairie farm. We follow the joys and sorrows of the Palmer family through to 1946 when Agnes accepts a teaching position in Rutland near Kelowna, B.C.
All the memories of a man in his life, whether it might be of heart-warming or heart-breaking, should not go buried along with his last breath, but should leave some inputs to his family members, relatives and friends to make them aware of his past life track for their future guidance. At the same time, if the same man happens to be a person who had served in any public service organization, then his memories should not go vanished away along with his soul. However, such memories should necessarily leave a lesson to his successors and all the common public to learn the morals and to realize the things, as to how the problems are raised in societies and how the same could be prevented. Unlike the other departmental officials of the government services, the police officials would not have an opportunity of second innings to continue their services in any other sector after their retirement, as the police service is entirely different from other services of the governing bodies, like technical, educational, medical, and commercial services. Because of this, most of the retired police officials would feel themselves isolated and spend the remaining part of their lifetime in a lackadaisical manner. Under such circumstances, it is my son Arulmurugan, and my daughter Sivasakthi, who are now living respectively in Michigan and Arizona States of USA, have suggested me to write some useful articles in blog, a kind of website, to share my thoughts in good faith with hundreds and thousands of readers over the months and years. My children's encouragement and guidance empowered me to enter into such blog-writings and publish the same in my blog site. As far as the police department is concerned in olden days, our traditional practice was to write everything manually by our own hand for all kinds of script works until the police department was modernized. As I had been accustomed for a long time only to such manual writings, I gradually learned the system related works and started to login into my blog site and write the articles directly in my blog after my superannuation. Initially, I was writing on some social issues in my blog. Then, a spark came in my mind as to why should not I write short stories in my blog, based on the cruxes of some past occurrences that came across in my police service. Since I had been in the regular habit of preparing my case diaries and the investigation reports in my own handwriting throughout my service, it was easy for me to recollect some past occurrences and shape up the same in the form of short stories, adding some spicy essence to pep up the style of writing. While writing such short stories, I shaped up the same with an object of giving some moral messages, thrill, fun, and some social thoughts to every reader, without touching the sentiments of anyone. The names of the characters in the short stories and the articles have been changed. I have spent almost all the days, after my superannuation, in writing fifty-five episodes, most of which are short stories and few are satirical article to poke fun at some social evils and injustice, with a narrative style of a professional storyteller. At this moment, I would like to make a self-explanation. Yes! Some may think as to why this Policeman has written this book in English. First, I would like to state that I love my mother tongue Tamil, the most ancient of all other languages. Anyhow, I had a little passion of learning one more language in addition to my mother tongue, because of which, I had a brief interest in grooming the English language in me. I have written this book in English with an idea of conveying my short stories and thoughts to all the people irrespective of linguistic variations and regional differences. - K.Manickavasagam Dy.Superintendent of Police (Retd)
The year is 1998. Theresa receives a phone call from David, an old friend, which prompts a series of flashbacks to the summer of 1983. Theresa and her best friends, Beth and Donna, were twelve years old and seemed to have the adventures of a lifetime that summer. Between their troubled home-lives and encounters with the menacing Jordan brothers, the three friends lived through a summer they wouldn't soon forget. Now, as adults, they share in each other's experiences, still trying to overcome their traumatic childhood. As they drudge up their bad memories, the Jordan brothers return, ready to finish what they started when they were children. It's up to Theresa, Beth, and Donna to put an end to the brothers' reign of terror, while also battling their own inner demons.
A new adventure for a classic teddy bear! Corduroy the beloved bear slips out very early one morning to get a birthday present for Lisa. He spies what he thinks is a yellow balloon up in the sky, thinking that would be perfect for her. But when the sun rises, the balloon (really the full moon) disappears. And now Corduroy is lost. Lisa finds him, but not before Corduroy succeeds in getting just the right gift—a lollipop as yellow and round as the moon. Written in the whimsical style of Don Freeman and illustrated in the exact scratchboard technique he used to create Corduroy and A Pocket for Corduroy. 2018 is Corduroy’s 50th anniversary, making this the perfect time for a new Corduroy adventure!
I have written several books of poems over many years....My poems are written for Friends/Loved ones, even Strangers, regarding Death/Birth/Marriage/Divorce....Poems about Politics/Government....Poems of Thankfulness/ of feeling Blessed.....some are my poems expressing my opinion and perception of Life and things that have happened in our lives...Many people/friends that I have met on my journey, from my first step until now Throughout this book you will see “Thank You” inserts, dedications to so many, also a few comments from some I had met who also traveled a hard road, but kept their Faith.....So many lives that were changed forever.....They ALL had a Dream/a Goal, and they reached that Goal and fulfilled their Dream Yes, the Journey has been hard and long, but I would never depart From the Memories of those I met and have touched my heart......So, as I walked back down Memory Lane, I remembered it was the turning point in my life, Nothing would I change I wanted to instill the Memory of each and every one of my friends/family who encouraged me, putting them in my book....There are too many to mention by name, but know that as I wrote this book, I was remembering each of you....I thank God for having put you in my life.....I am a better person because of you....Thank You, I will NEVER forget you Many books of Poetry I have now wrote Because I listened to God when He spoke Writing was a Therapy for me in many ways Thank You God for giving to me, these memorable days God, You know my future, it was already planned You walked with me, never letting go of my hand Many of those who You sent to me on My Life’s Way Are still with me, in my heart and memory every day Thank You God for all that You have done It is because of You, family, friends, I made it, I did overcome
