War Vacation
War Vacation A section of June in my cute cat calender on the kitchen wall has been torn out for a collage. (When art calls, it calls whether the month is finished or not!) This is how I found July waving at me as it peeks through from under half June. My eyes are drawn to "WWI begins." I do a double take. What? WWI began in July? The July of fireworks and picnics for a proud Independence day. Of sun and sea or maybe a lakeside. Of catapulting into the water of Grafton Park or maybe exploring the escarpment of the Indian Ladder Trail at Thatcher Park. The July of my childhood meant no school and summer vacation. But there was a moment in history–maybe more than one for all I know–in which they actually started a war in summer. No frolicking in the fields in the Alps, no making mud pies after a rain. It was time to make war. How did WWI really begin, anyway? I am not a history buff, but I know the tip of the iceberg was the assassination of the Austrian Archduke F...