An Angling Tale By Peter D. McQuade This story is available in its entirety free of charge for the first part of November. I came of age in the Idaho of the 1960s, in the company of six siblings, all … Continue reading
Over Horseshoe Bend in a Sailplane By Peter D. McQuade The man standing on the front-porch steps of the saloon pointed toward a dirt road that snaked along a creek bed before rising out of sight behind a towering sagebrush … Continue reading
It was 1971, and the brilliance of the late-May sky shone through the model airplane’s translucent white wings as it glided high overhead in wide, majestic circles. “Go, Falcon!” I shouted to the glider and to my audience, the empty hills and canyons of Hulls Gulch overlooking the Boise Valley. Continue reading
I hung up the phone and clutched my seventeen-year-old forehead, dropping my elbows onto the wobbly card table. “I stink at this,” I whispered. Across the mostly empty room, my high school classmate Ron was in the middle of nailing another sale. He made telemarketing look so easy. Geez, I’d buy from him if he called my number. Continue reading
My brother and I shared a dream of flying—something that most Americans in 1965 had never experienced. Like everyone, we were awed by the allure of the sparkling new jets that graced magazine covers, which boldly heralded the arrival of “the jet age” and “the jet set.” We had seen jet airplanes before. For a few years, we occasionally saw one pass many thousands of feet above us, etching a long, white contrail in the blue as it leapfrogged over our valley, and our state. They were always so high, we couldn’t tell whether we were looking at an airliner or a military plane. And then, in October of 1964, United Airlines introduced its first tentative jet service to Boise. Thus began a period of wondrous and uneasy transformation for Will and me. Continue reading
