By: Maggie Clancy
“Record time,” my father says. Saliva drips from his still-gloved hands and threaten to drop in the mint bowl. I slide it away.
“He looks pretty good for just having a root canal, huh?” My father was talking about Ronald Huber, the ruddy man with a mouthful of gauze sitting in the reception area.
By: Colleen Bersano
It was February 7, 1964. I had just won tickets to the taping of the Ed Sullivan Show. But not just any show, it was the height of Beatlemania and it would be their first performance in America. And I had two tickets. I was sure to be the envy of all of my peers. My friend Billy, who helped me answer the trivia questions on the radio, and I ran into the kitchen to tell my mother. I must have shouted the news to her though because she jumped higher than I’ve ever seen the moment we rushed in from the living room.
“Janet, what in Heaven’s name has gotten you so excited?”