vintage
Vintage content about relationships, unions and romances past.
Heroic, Hard-Hitting Hedy Lamarr
Dear Hedy, You affect our lives EVERY SINGLE DAY... How can I thank you for teaching me so much? Little did people realize that behind that pretty face of yours, was the powerful brain of an inventor and the valorous spirit of a righteous fighter. You escaped the Nazi's and became obsessed with defeating them. You had to battle so many people—including the top brass of the USA military—to be taken seriously. Your brilliant innovations are STILL changing our world today, with satellite and cellular phone technology, WiFi, Bluetooth, and GPS! Below are five lessons I've learned from you:
Karla Bowen HermanPublished 3 years ago in HumansDuelling Friends
The sun beat down on the back of Sam’s neck. Sweat beaded on his brow. He met his foe face to face in the middle of the dirt road.
Gigi GibsonPublished 3 years ago in HumansNo Coward Souls ~ Tragedy, Obsessive Love, and Addiction Plagued the Brontës
What experiences shaped the lives of the Brontës that led them to produce such literary masterpieces as Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall?
The Dream Book
I wiped the sweat from my forehead, careful not to let it drip on the pages. I tucked the notebook into my pocket and stepped onto the shovel. Clunk.
C.C. MartinPublished 3 years ago in HumansDr AC Jackson of Tulsa, Oklahoma
Dr AC Jackson was a thriving entrepreneur being one of the first best African American surgeons. He carved his part in the city of Tulsa. It was known at the time as Black Wall Street. As it had so many thriving black owned banks and other businesses there. He made a name fir himself. All was going so well until one day in 1921.
Alfred CosmePublished 3 years ago in HumansYour Lucky Day
He’d said his name was Donald, but I knew that was a lie. When I’d asked him his name, he’d said “Ddddonald,” dragging out the “d” as if he was making it up as he went along. His real name probably did begin with a “d,” but he’d backed off the truth mid-word. Sometimes it’s smarter to lie, especially in a bar to a stranger.
Kirsten AndersonPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Chapter from the Past
The Move History inevitably weaves its way through time, grasping at the fibers of the past and clinging to its memories, remembering only shadows of the people who once lived it. History starved its way into the lives of Davis and Elsie Wolff.
Brittani CollettePublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Flip Side
His mother’s commute to work had never been a long one—just down the stairs to the storefront beneath the two-bedroom apartment with the large bay windows and light-soaked rooms that Sanjay had always known as home.
Al OpenbookPublished 3 years ago in HumansOh Momma
“Johnny Pichette! If your momma knew you talked like that, she’d pour liquid soap down your throat!” Lilly said as she gracefully stood up on the edge of the pool deck.
Donna ReimusPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Moonlit ball
The Beginning Hello My name is Eloise and this is my journey into life experience abandonment, being loved, knowing loss, mysteriously gaining a big chunk of money, to finding true love all because of this little black book that was cherished by the woman who raised me. In all of my life I never once expected my life to end up teaching me the ways of aloneness, lost, grief being found, then alone again and then eventually in the end finding love in the most hardest and tragic way
Cora SturdyPublished 3 years ago in HumansComing in to 20,000$
Katie was always indignant about the way she spent. Uncertain and coiffed by a determination to spend and become new. Have an idea to herself and be like the rest of the people around her. Unfortunately this wasn’t what she was. She was ugly, frail and avoidant of any real issues that came her way. She hated death and everything that surrounded it. And there was a lot of good surrounding it.
Katie WhytePublished 3 years ago in HumansMy Brush with Love
What I love most about used bookstores is the feel of the paper in my hands. I love scanning it’s delicate pages for the history of the book; who owned it, who marked it, or if someone wore out a certain part (like the romantic section in a poetry book). The books I like the most don’t have a heavy price tag because they are worn and the spine is broken or missing. There is no spotlight on them. Each book tells two stories. I once found a poetry book that was gifted to a youth for being top in her class in grammar. The dedication was in beautiful well-practiced cursive writing that is lost to my generation. It was dated the same day as my birthday, except 86 years earlier. The whole thing just tickled me somehow.