Chief Joseph: “I will fight no more forever”
“Hear me, my chiefs; my heart is sick and sad; Our chiefs are killed, The old men are all dead, It is cold and we have no blankets; The little children ar...
Historical narrative nonfiction short stories.
“Hear me, my chiefs; my heart is sick and sad; Our chiefs are killed, The old men are all dead, It is cold and we have no blankets; The little children ar...
Cold winds blow as flurries trickle down. A stiff frost bears down on Harlem. In winter’s early sunset comes rise a nascent darkness, a still gloom offset by be...
“Friends, I shall ask you to be as quiet as possible. I don’t know whether you fully understand that I have just been shot—but it takes more than that to ...
“I am only a mouthpiece through which to tell the story of lynching and I have told it so often that I know it by heart. I do not have to embellish; it makes it...
Bruised, battered, his face and clothing covered with dry crusts of blood, James Peck staggered as he walked. He still felt a bit disoriented after being beaten...
On November 1, 1959, Jacques Plante’s nose was broken by a shot three minutes into a game against the New York Rangers. He was taken to the dressing room ...
Emma Edmonds specialized in disguises. It was a way of life you could say, one which began in her teens. Back then, she lived on a farm in New Brunswick, Canada...
“Chance is the most extraordinary thing you can have in your life and you should know how to take advantage of it.” – Robert de La Rochefoucauld — R...
Susie King Taylor was born into slavery on a plantation in rural Georgia in 1848, which is where she lived until the age of seven, when she was allowed to move ...
“By the time I had got two or three hundred feet off the ground, I knew I had to fly,” said Amelia Earhart of her first flying experience. While Ame...