September 29, 2022

“The Last Supper” by Rachel Cann

“The Last Supper” by Rachel Cann

“Now there’s a view,” said Phil, so smugly I felt like putting my hands around his neck and throttling. Easter Sunday and we were on the concrete deck at the Swampscott home of his best friend under house arrest with bail in excess of a million dollars. It would be the last time they would break bread, the two most feared men in the New England Cosa Nostra. The tide was low; the air charged with the rich, dank smell of home. As complaining seagulls swooped and soared above the deserted beach and the dark, gray Atlantic, I breathed deeply, tried to relax the muscles around my narcissistic heart. The family inside was in crisis. I was always in crisis. Would it never end? Adrenaline coursed through my veins like an out-of-control locomotive, clickety-clack, drowning…

Continue reading →

September 20, 2020

“Frank Olson” — The Poetry of Charles Rammelkamp

“Frank Olson” — The Poetry of Charles Rammelkamp

Frank Olson    “Webber,” my editor barked  when I walked into the office  that day just after Thanksgiving, 1953.   “I want you to look into this story  about the CIA guy who jumped  out of the tenth floor window   at the Statler, on Seventh Avenue.  Why did he do it?  Could he have been he pushed?”    My beat? CIA, MK-ULTRA, “mind-control” drugs.  Brainwashing.   I knew about Frank Olson already;  worked at Camp Dietrich in Maryland, Special Ops,   an aerosol expert, his specialty   “airborne distribution of biological germs.”   Worked on Operation Sea Spray a couple year earlier,   where they released a dust   that floated like anthrax, near San Francisco.   At Dietrich, he directed experiments  that involved gassing and poisoning lab animals.    “I’ll look right into it, sir,”   already booking a flight and hotel  in my mind, thinking,…

Continue reading →