Historical Fiction

All posts in the Historical Fiction category

23 September 2022

Published September 21, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

THE MEASURE OF A LIFE

“The space was no bigger than a closet,” said Hannah. “Only room for six of us to hide at once.”

“Were you scared, Bubbie?” asked eleven-year-old Corrie.

“Oy! So scared! I had claustrophobia. But as much as small spaces scared me, the Gestapo scared me more.”

“Did you have to stay there for hours at a time?”

“Only when the family had—visitors. Other times we children were free to play and sing. We even celebrated Hanukkah with potato latkes and presents. The Ten-Booms, such wonderful people.”

“I’m named after Corrie Ten-Boom, aren’t I?”

Ja. May her memory be blessed.”

To learn about this very special lady and her family CLICK HERE

*********

This past week I’ve finally gotten around to opening an Etsy shop to market my note cards. Please CLICK HERE to come by and browse. There are many more entries to upload before it the shop’s “complete.” 😉

9 September 2022

Published September 7, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © LIsa Fox

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

1938

“Is this how you remember it, Mom?” asked Ruth.

Naomi hadn’t seen the scenic deutsche Stadt in fifty years. The synagogue had been replaced by a church. Although some shops still existed, her childhood home did not.

She swallowed. “I was ten. Momma gave me a sack of her homemade macaroons for the long journey. She told me, ‘You’ll be safe with Aunt Gertie and Uncle Norman in New York.’

“Poppa crushed me in his strong arms. ‘Momma and I will come for you soon. You’ll see.’

“From the ship I watched them grow smaller and smaller.

“They never came.”

26 August 2022

Published August 24, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

POLITICALLY INCORRECT

“You’re opening a Chinese restaurant, Pop?” Noriyuki looked up from his homework. “But we’re Japanese.”

“The camps certainly taught me that.”  Tamaru shrugged. “Chinese. Japanese. We all look alike to them. Let’s go to the movies.”

Noriyuki stretched his legs. After spending his childhood in a body cast with no hope of healing, he relished a walk to—anywhere.

On December 7, 1966, stand-up comic, Pat Noriyuki Morita, sweat running down his back, said, “Before I begin, I just want to say I’m sorry for messing up your harbor.”

After a moment of thick silence, the audience burst into laughter. 

*Once billed as the Hip Nip, Pat Morita appeared in movies and television. You may remember him as Mr. Miyagi in The Karate Kid or as Arnold Takahashi on Happy Days. As a child he was diagnosed with spinal TB. The doctors gave him little hope of ever walking. Alas after a procedure restored his legs, he was taken from hospital to a Japanese internment camp.

*As for the photo, I believe that food court is Korean. 😉

29 July 2022

Published July 27, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Bill Reynolds

Many thanks to those who sympathized with my angst over the pool closure last week. I’m happy to report the closure was short-lived and I’m back in the water.

Happy Mermaid.

A thank you to Russell Gayer, aka What’s His Name, for sending this historical tidbit. Truth is often much more interesting than fiction. 😀

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

NATIONAL BIRD

I was just a little girl, but I’ll never forget those huge red eyes. They’d pierce right through ya as they left a devastating trail of destruction. My father and other farmers, veterans of WWI, fought with all their might to save their wheat crops.

Day after day, the demons attacked. At last, the government declared war on them. Soldiers came to our aid bearing machine guns.

The enemy was more cunning than all the Australian army’s artillery. Despite their best efforts they only killed a few hundred.  

There’s no denying those birds won The Great Emu War of 1932.

CLICK TO READ THE FACTS

15 July 2022

Published July 13, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

HE NEVER GOT A DINNER

Papa put the finishing touches on a straw hat, placed it on his head and, to little Aaron’s delight, broke into a soft shoe.

Mr. Jerwick applauded and laughed. “I’ll take the hat, Mr. Chwatt. But I’m no dancer.”

“Hey Pop,” said sixteen-year-old Aaron. “Check out my uniform for my new job.”

“Doing what? So many buttons.”

“I’m a singing bell boy.” Aaron raked his fingers through his wavy red hair. “Making people smile—like you, Pop. And how about my stage name?”

From Vaudeville to Broadway and film, history will forever remember award-winning entertainer Red Buttons with a smile.

Aaron Chwatt was the son of Jewish immigrants. His father, Michael Chwatt made his living as a milliner in New York’s Lower East Side who enjoyed entertaining his customers.

RED BUTTONS NEVER GOT A DINNER

1 July 2022

Published June 29, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

BLUMEN

I trembled with nine-year-old excitement as I presented the flowers. Their sweet fragrance filled my nostrils as I curtsied.

The new chancellor smiled and said, “Danke schön meine Liebchen.”

When I made my way back through the crowd to my classmates, my friend Ilsa hugged me, her blue eyes sparkling. “How lucky you are to be chosen.”

Soon after that day, my family and I packed all the belongings we could carry and moved away from Germany. 

Lucky? Jah. Never will I forget his cold eyes. What would the Führer have said had he known this flower girl was Jewish?

3 June 2022

Published June 1, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox

Genre: Historical Fiction circa 1935
Word Count: 100

MAY THE SCHWARTZ BE WITH YOU

Nine-year-old Melvyn Kaminsky held his breath as he stood by the tenement window watching for Uncle Joe’s checkered cab. He could always tell when it was his uncle’s because he was so short the cab appeared to be driverless.

            Uncle Joe’s friend gave him two complimentary tickets for a Broadway play— Anything Goes by the great Cole Porter, starring Ethel Merman.

            Melvyn hid on the cab’s floor so Uncle Joe wouldn’t get in trouble for giving out free rides.  

            From the dizzying last row of the second balcony, the future Mel Brooks decided there was no business like show business.

A FEW FACTS ABOUT MEL

6 May 2022

Published May 4, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehuda

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

SAY IT WITH FLOWERS

“Who was the greatest mother in the Bible?” Mama asked twelve-year-old Anna.

            “Mrs. Noah.”

            “Why not Jesus’ mother Mary?”

            “Because Mrs. Noah looked after children and all those stinky animals for forty days and forty nights.”

            Mama smiled. “I hope someone, sometime will found a memorial mother’s day commemorating her for the matchless service she renders to humanity in every field of life. She is entitled to it.”

May 10, 1908, due to Anna Jarvis’ diligent campaigning, the first Mother’s Day ceremonies were held in West Virginia and Pennsylvania. In 1914 U.S. President Woodrow Wilson made it a national holiday. 

Mama’s quote isn’t fiction 😉 CLICK HERE for a brief history of Mother’s Day in the United States.

29 April 2022

Published April 27, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Genre: Historical Fiction/Excerpt from Work in Progress
Word Count: 100 of 16,500

CHILDHOOD LOST

Schoolboys cavorted along the cobblestone street, shoving and teasing each other after a day of boring lessons. Peter missed being one of them.

Papa approached with determined strides, head held high, and a scowl on his black-bearded face. Like the Red Sea’s parting, the children made a path for him.

Peter turned from the window and hunched over his book.

Taking rolls from the oven, Mama clutched her rounded belly. “Son, come help me.”

He rose and took the pan from her, breathing in the yeasty aroma.

Papa burst through the door. “Peter! Lazy oaf. Get back to your lessons.”

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


22 April 2022

Published April 20, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Carole Erdman-Grant

Género: Ficción Histórical
El recuento de palabras: 100

SINFONÍA VISUAL

            Carlos hunched over the piano, hands over his ears, tears stinging his eyes. “No puedo oír la música. Mi vida se acabó.”

            “Mi hijo, you’re only fifteen. So you cannot hear so well. Your life isn’t over. It is just beginning.” Papa opened a case containing tubes of color and various-sized brushes. “Your art teacher says you show gran potential.”

            Carlos rolled a brush between his fingers. “I will paint—everything!”

___

            51 years later, in 1958, Delilah Mérida beamed when the Guatemalan government honored Carlos’ artistic achievement with the Order of the Quetzal. “My husband makes music for the eyes.”

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