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Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: “The Skies Belong to Us: Love and Terror in the Golden Age of Hijacking” by Brendan I. Koerner

November 1, 2013

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On June 2, 1972, Roger Holder, a Vietnam veteran, and his girlfriend Cathy Kerkow, an underemployed high school graduate, hijacked a plane flying from Los Angeles to Seattle. The hijacking came in the middle of what Brendan Koerner calls in his new history the “golden age” of hijacking. (You may remember D.B. Cooper, who in 1971 famously parachuted from the back of a passenger jet along with $200,000 in cash. Koerner does a very good job of explaining how unlikely it is that Cooper survived.) But there were many more hijackings – Koerner cites a figure of 159, beginning in 1961 and ending with a spate in 1972. As Koerner puts it, “The skyjackers that year were bold and foolish beyond measure, prone to taking risks that smacked of lunacy. Middle-aged men parachuted from jets while clutching six-figure ransoms to their chests; manic extremists demanded passage to war zones a hemisphere away; young mothers brandished pistols while feeding formula to their infants.” The hijackers had all sorts of motivations, and all sorts of goals.

Holder was one of the angry ones: he was angry about his treatment growing up as an African-American, angry during and after military service in Vietnam, and angry about the continuing American involvement with the war in Vietnam. Kerkow, it seems, was along for the ride. Holder was also one of the better planners among the hijackers, studying previous efforts quite carefully, and making detailed outlines. His plan was to hijack the plane, insist that Angela Davis be brought on board – the jury in her murder trial had just begun deliberating – and proceed to Hanoi and then on to a new life in Australia. (Koerner doesn’t say this was a good plan.) Things didn’t work out quite the way Holder hoped: he and Kerkow ended up in Algeria with nearly $500,000 in ransom, and Angela Davis, who had not been consulted in advance, refused to have anything to do with the hijacking. (Holder wasn’t among the most meticulous when it came to executing his plans: he brought along, and consumed several joints during the 30 or more hours the episode lasted. His decision-making suffered.) In Algeria, Eldridge Cleaver took in Holder and Kerkow. After a few months Holder and Kerkow moved on, to France, as did Cleaver. Holder eventually came back to the US and prison; Kerkow, chameleon-like, disappeared.

Koerner tells Holder and Kerkow’s story extremely well. What’s really interesting about this book is the contrast between the history Koerner provides and what he (and we) know has happened to air travel since 1972, and especially since 2001. The airlines initially resisted the idea of screening passengers with metal detectors, Koerner reports, reasoning that it was cheaper to pay the ransoms hijackers demanded and let the planes fly to Cuba than to pay for the screenings: the initial estimated cost was $300 million annually. But  screening worked: from early 1973 until the end of 1974 no planes were hijacked in American airspace. As Koerner puts it, “[t]he American public seemed to rather like hijack-free travel.” There were a few more hijackings in subsequent years, particularly in the Middle East, and then none for 10 years after 1991. So airlines continued to follow policies that had been set in the 1960s – cooperate with hijackers, and connect them with negotiators on the ground. What happened in 2001 is a different story – one you probably know.

Koerner relates an interesting part of our history, and he tells his story well. Do you agree? Let us know in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail.com. I also blog about metrics at asbowie.blogspot.com.

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Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: “The Idealist: Jeffrey Sachs and the Quest to End Poverty” by Nina Munk

October 25, 2013

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In her new book “The Idealist” Nina Munk, who followed Jeffrey Sachs as he developed what became the Millennium Project, describes a far-reaching but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to counter poverty in sub-Saharan Africa. Sachs, a Harvard-trained economist, made his name recommending economic “shock therapy” – radical austerity measures – to help national economies in trouble. His ideas worked in Bolivia in 1985 when the country had an annual inflation rate of 25,000%, and again in Poland in 1989. Sachs recommended similar measures when he was asked by Boris Yeltsin to help reform the Russian economy in the early 1990s, though the prescription did not work so well there. (When Munk asked Sachs about it years later, she says, he deflected blame, saying that his advice had not been taken.) In 1995, Sachs started paying attention to Africa, and observed its deep poverty and the many illnesses ravaging its inhabitants.

Sachs, Munk writes, was horrified at what he saw. His studies convinced him that years of too-little aid to African countries had not been enough to make a difference. Munk says that, as Sachs saw it:

The stumbling block . . . was a ‘poverty trap’: an overwhelming, interconnected burden of disease, illiteracy, high fertility rates, dismal agricultural productivity, lack of capital, weak or nonexistent infrastructure, debt hunger, drought, malnutrition . . . . Tackling one problem at a time, piecemeal, was pointless, he concluded. The way out of extreme poverty depended on a ‘big push’ in foreign aid–a massive, coordinated investment designed to life countries up and out of poverty, once and for all.

Sachs turned this vision into the Millennium Project, a large scale attempt to end poverty in Africa. Working village by village, the Millennium Project would allocate $120 per person to “implement the ‘interventions’ [Sachs] outlined in his book The End of Poverty: high-yield seeds and fertilizers, mosquito nets, better schools, improved health care and sanitation, bore wells and protected springs”, to name just a few. Munk observed and interviewed Sachs as he raised money and hired staff. She traveled with him when he visited Africa. The difference is that she stayed in the villages, exploring their geography, weather, and culture, where Sachs parachuted in briefly, then went back to teaching and raising money.

The theory was that the economic investment would, after about five years, result in sustainable growth. There are a lot of reasons why we don’t hear much about the Millenium Project these days, but the unavoidable conclusion of Munk’s book is that Sachs’ model was too simple. The weather, with its cycles of droughts and floods, was uncontrollable. Access to water was a big problem in one of the villages Munk visited, and while there was economic growth there due to the Millenium Project, that growth was unsustainable without regular access to water. Munk describes cultural differences that planners didn’t account for, making a persuasive case, for example, why it would make more sense to a villager to use a medicated mosquito net for an animal than for a human.

It appears from Munk’s reporting that unintended consequences overwhelmed the expected outcomes of the programs. One example she cites is telling: generally Ugandans don’t care for maize. Nonetheless, with Millenium Project seeds and fertilizer one village’s farmers grew a bumper crop. Storage facilities were inadequate, so villagers stored maize everywhere they could, including in their huts. The large quantities of maize attracted vermin. The farmers brought their crop to market all at once, depressing prices and bringing in less than the seeds and fertilizer had cost. Increasing yields was too simple a solution: the planners in New York “solved” one problem only to create another.

Human life is complicated: economic interactions can’t easily be modeled, and not everything can be predicted. Reading this book reminded me of the Biosphere 2 experiment, in which eight people attempted to live in a giant terrarium for two years. To his credit, Sachs created an impressive infrastructure and raised an enormous amount of money. Some of the villagers were able to maintain the gains they achieved while the project lasted. But, as Munk says, quoting the economist William Easterly, “Sachs is essentially trying to create an island of success in a sea of failure . . . and maybe he’s done that, but it doesn’t address the sea of failure.”

Munk’s thoughtful book is a sobering look at the impact this work had on the lives of real individuals, the villagers and the Millenium Project staff on the ground in Africa. Did you contribute to support the work of the Millenium Project? Would you do it again? Let us know in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail.com. I also blog about metrics at asbowie.blogspot.com.

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Books

Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: “Swimming Home, A Novel” by Deborah Levy

October 18, 2013

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In the summer of 1994, the Jacobs family: Joe, a well-known poet, Isabel, a war correspondent, and 14-year-old Nina, have rented a villa outside Nice for a vacation. Their friends Mitchell and Laura, who run a shop in London, are sharing the villa for the summer. The five of them are greeted one morning by something – a bear? There has been on wandering nearby – floating in their pool. In fact, it’s Kitty Finch, naked. Once she’s out of the water and identified, Isabel offers Kitty the spare room.

Kitty is a student of biology, there to study local plants. But she is not a stranger – her mother was a cleaner for the villa’s owner, and she has stayed here before. And she is not just a student – she is also an aspiring poet, and has brought Joe one of her poems. His poems are in her head, she says. Her poem? “It’s a conversation with you, really.” Naturally, he is seduced.

It’s not the acts but the thoughts that are hidden in this book, and the tension lies in watching the characters understand the developing consequences of their actions. Isabel has spent much of her working life in faraway countries, leaving her husband and daughter to develop a strong relationship. Joe is really Jozef, smuggled out of Poland during the Second World War to safety in the UK. And Kitty is not entirely sane. What does it mean to be home? To come home? Where is home? One character, the doctor who lives next door, has grown roses in an “attempt to create of a memory of England in France.”

The story plays out over the course of a single week. Levy shifts points of view from character to character, letting us see what each character sees while unveiling the emotional landscape only very slowly. We follow most of the characters as they separate for the day’s seemingly inconsequential activities. Isabel, for instance, regularly escapes to Nice; Laura and Isabel take a walk and interrupt the photographs of a group of Japanese tourists; Nina and Kitty collect stones on the beach. Kitty and Joe meet for a drink at a hotel and Kitty explains that her favorite poem is Apollinaire’s “It’s Raining.” When the characters come together again explosions happen.

In this multi-layered and complex book what seems random is well planned. Not many places are safe. Individuals must come face to face with their true selves. It’s a memorable book, much deserving of all the praise it has received. What turn of events surprised you most? Let us know in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail.com. I also blog about metrics at asbowie.blogspot.com.

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Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: “Consider the Fork: A History of How We Cook and Eat” by Bee Wilson

October 11, 2013

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“Consider the Fork,” Bee Wilson’s entertaining, eminently readable history of kitchen technology, is an ode to the everyday, with some side excursions into the fantastic. Starting with the use of pots to cook in, a now-obvious solution that required centuries of human development, and moving through the technologies of knives, fire, measurement, grinding, conveying food to our mouths, and preserving, Wilson provides a fascinating look at what seems like a simple daily activity: cooking and eating.

Most of the cooking we do uses tools and techniques that have been around for millennia. We may understand the chemistry better, and the specialized room we cook in is a fairly recent development, but cooking itself is primeval.

However radical we may think we are in our everyday beliefs, when we step into a kitchen most of us become (small ‘c’) conservatives. We chop food with knives, stir it with spoons, and cook it in pots. As we stand in our modern kitchens, we still use the colanders, the pestles, and the frying pans of the ancients. We do not start from first principles every time we want to produce a meal but draw on the tools and ingredients we have at hand, governed by the rules and taboos and memories we all carry in our heads about cuisine.

Take the humble cooking pot, for example. It’s extremely useful, but not absolutely necessary. For many years before its invention people cooked directly on fires, with stones, and, where they existed, in hot springs. Wilson points out that New England clambakes and Hawaiian luaus still rely on hot stone cookery. Over thousands of years, the cooking pot has gone through many iterations. The earliest ones were made of clay. Pottery, Wilson says, “is deeply personal. Even now, we describe pots as having human characteristics” such as lips, mouths, shoulders, hips, bellies.

Cooking pots must be watertight and burn proof. Eventually, clay pots gave way to iron cauldrons, cauldrons to specialized pots and pans. A Victorian kitchen, at least one in an upper-class home, might have had several hundred pots: saucepans with one handle, stewpans with two, some with lids, others with rounded bottoms. And then there are the heating properties. Iron distributes heat well but is heavy and difficult to clean; copper is lighter but is toxic in quantities that can leach from cookware.

The book is loaded with interesting facts and observations. Dogs were once trained to walk in little wheels that turned cooking spits holding joints of meat over the fire (think hamster wheels). We think of Victorians as the source of over-boiled vegetables, but Wilson supplies two reasons why we can’t take Victorian cooking times at face value. Modern vegetables tend more tender than those of a century ago and so need less cooking. And if a cook was using a small specialized pot, as a Victorian cook would have been, well, it takes longer to cook vegetables in a small pot with just a tiny bit of water surrounding it. The Chinese cleaver and the Western cleaver have two entirely different functions – Western butchers use a cleaver to “hack through meat bones. The Chinese version, the tou, makes possible Chinese cooking – whose “great characteristic . . . was the intermingling of flavors through fine chopping.” The fine chopping also means, Wilson explains, why the Chinese developed chopsticks – they don’t need knives at the table.

“Consider the Fork,” though occasionally repetitive – and with at least one error that crept in as the book was translated into American English – is a charming exploration of how we came to cook the way we do. I highly recommend it. What’s your favorite odd cooking fact? Let us know in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail.com. I also blog at asbowie.blogspot.com.

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News

Watch Karl Take The Last Governor’s Island Construction Tour

October 4, 2013

Karl Junkersfeld writes this about his new video:

Last weekend was the last opportunity to tour the construction of the new Governors Island Park Site. This park is especially relevant to Brooklyn Heights residents in that it is basically an extension of Pier 6 BBP, via free ferry, and offers an assortment of great public activities from which to chose.

RELATED: Karl Checks Out The Brooklyn Nets’ Media Day

Top on my list is the installation of 50 hammocks among 1500 newly planted trees. Being extremely lazy, this is basically nirvana for me. If they can manage to incorporate food and beverage service delivery to individual hammocks, it will become my second home.


Source: Brooklyn Heights Blog
http://brooklynheightsblog.com/archives/62889

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Beer, Events, Music

Karaoke with Live Band Backup at Transit Museum October 16

October 4, 2013

The Transit Museum is hosting a karaoke evening with The Golden Boyz of New Brunswick – the band will provide live backing for straphangers/amateur singers/you. Guests can also pose for album cover photos inside vintage subway cars. Beer is provided by Brooklyn Brewery. The event runs from 6-9 PM. Admission is $10 in advance, $15 at the door, with $5 off for Transit Museum members.

The evening is planned in conjunction with the museum’s Album Tracks:Subway Record Covers exhibit which runs through January 12, 2014. The show includes album covers and behind-the-scenes footage of Michael Jackson’s video Bad, filmed in the Hoyt-Schermerhorn Station.

The Transit Museum is located at Boerum Place and Schermerhorn Street in downtown Brooklyn. Reserve tickets here.

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Books

Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: “Citizens of London: The Americans Who Stood with Britain in its Darkest, Finest Hour” by Lynne Olson

October 4, 2013

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We tend to forget, in the United States, that the Second World War actually began in September 1939, not December 1941. The early years before the US entered the war were disheartening ones for the British, who fought alone against Hitler after Germany’s armies overran most of Europe. Three Americans who spent part or all of those years in London helped make the US into a strong and supportive ally. Edward R. Murrow was the CBS reporter who made dramatic radio broadcasts that ensured Americans understood the extent of the damage to London – and the stiff upper lips that carried Londoners through each day. Averell Harriman arrived in 1941, as administrator of the Lend-Lease program. That same year Gil Winant, former governor of New Hampshire and the first chairman of the Social Security Board, replaced Joseph P. Kennedy as the United States Ambassador to Great Britain. Olson centers her clear-eyed narrative of life in London during the war around these three men.

Winant, who did not live long after the war, is the least known to us today. He was a teacher at St. Paul’s school who had joined the US flying corps during World War I. A master of the evocative detail, Olson says of Winant:

His aviation skills were somewhat shaky . . .while he was “all right” in the air, he needed “the greatest luck” to take off and land. . . Winant also possessed a reckless courage that prompted him to volunteer for observation missions over enemy lines that others considered suicidal . . . Having enlisted as a private, he ended the war as a captain.

Winant entered politics a few years after the war, and, despite poor public speaking skills, was elected governor of New Hampshire three times. Olson describes Winant as reserved and awkward, especially in contrast to Winston Churchill, “the lord of language.” (If you haven’t heard it, you can listen to one example, the “We shall never surrender” speech of June 4,1940 here.) All the same, the Britons found in Winant a kindred spirit, and he never let them down. He was adept at helping Churchill manage a difficult relationship with Franklin Roosevelt dating from their first meeting in 1918 when Churchill snubbed Roosevelt. Winant worked hard to keep the relationship functioning, persuading Churchill to hold back angry telegrams and Roosevelt to send more aid.

Olson doesn’t limit herself to her three main characters. There are many smaller and lively portraits here, of men such as Tommy Hitchcock, who helped ensure that the US developed small fighting planes, and several women around Churchill: Clementine his wife, their daughter Sarah and daughter-in-law Pamela Digby Churchill (later Pamela Harriman). Women were central to the voluntary efforts to relieve Londoners affected by the blitz (the Government was “overwhelmed by the massive homelessness created by German raids; in London alone, 1.4 million people . . . had lost their homes by the spring of 1941″.) The Women’s Voluntary Service, created by Lady Reading, stepped in. Its members helped evacuate children from London, met soldiers evacuated from Dunkirk with sandwiches and tea, helped find housing for European refugees after Hitler’s armies overran continental Europe, and staffed rest centers, hostels, mobile libraries and canteens, and distributed supplies and clothing.

London was a lively place during the war, despite the bombings, full of men and women who were liberated by what Eric Sevareid (he was there as a young reporter) called “the exaltation of danger.” All those young – and even the not so young – played hard; there was a great deal of parties, drink, sex, and poker. The population grew with the build-up to D-Day, and then ended. Olson writes movingly of the British people bringing out food and tea for soldiers on their way to embark, and of convoys stopping in front of houses so a soldier could run in and say a goodbye. Now we would watch the news on TVs and computer; then, stores and movie theaters closed and sports events were cancelled, and people went to church to wait for news.

“Citizens of London” is a marvelous book full of moving and entertaining stories. What’s your favorite anecdote? Let us know in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail.com. You can read my metrics blog at asbowie.net.

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Books

Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: Schroder, by Amity Gaige

September 27, 2013

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Eric Kennedy had it all: a wife, a child, success as a real estate broker, and even a year off to be a stay-at-home dad and work on his dissertation. Everything in his life appeared to be working until his wife, Laura, left him. Perhaps she has sensed that something was wrong? Something was wrong, and we but not Laura are told what it is from the first page: Eric Kennedy is really Erik Schroder, an émigré from East Germany, whose father, a single parent, brought him up in Dorchester. Erik started lying in high school, and continued it into college and beyond. As Eric Kennedy, for example, he allowed his wife, and everyone else, to believe that he grew up on Cape Cod, near Hyannis, distantly related to the famous family.

But as Erik Schroder he contemplates a handful of mysteries: what happened back when he and his father left East Germany for the West? Why did his mother never join them? Why did they ultimately leave his mother behind when they left West Germany for the United States? Rather than stopping and asking questions Eric moves forward, reinventing himself continually as he lives the lies he wants so badly to believe. He doesn’t pause to think, just keeps acting impulsively – and then, during a supervised visit with his daughter, Meadow, he takes her on an unplanned, unapproved road trip, in a stolen car.

One of the many ironies is that Eric’s academic interest, at which he plays (or possibly works) during his year at home, is the esoteric one of the literary pause. The break. The ellipsis. The wait, as in the works of Pinter. In Pinter, something happens during the break – a thought, a glance – that makes it meaningful. The pause allows the other person time to respond. But Eric, who might as well be writing “The Key to All Mythologies” for all the good contemplating the pause does him, ignores other people.

Eric/Erik’s marriage appears to require a complaisant sort of female, and one wonders how Eric responded to the seventh or eighth suggestion that he take Laura to meet his parents on the Cape. Why weren’t they at the wedding? The book is structured as Eric’s apologia, so we hear Laura’s side of the story only indirectly: she started the divorce proceedings, telling Eric at the point of their separation that she felt as if they’d been living “in a house with tilted floors.” Eric, of course, is completely unreliable, but Gaige leaves the reader to fill in most of what Laura must have thought.

The consequences of Eric’s lies are endless, and everyone’s lives are upended. The story is heartbreaking, partly because of Eric’s attachment to his daughter, but also due to his dawning understanding of the fact that far from escaping his past he is repeating it. With its detached tone depicting joy and heartfelt sorrow, “Schroder” is powerful and affecting. Do you agree? Let us know in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail.com. I also blog about metrics at asbowie.blogspot.com.

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Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: “Detroit City is the Place to Be: The Afterlife of an American Metropolis” by Mark Binelli

September 20, 2013

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Between its recent declaration of bankruptcy, and the news that the Detroit Institute of Arts may be forced to sell some of its works of art, Detroit has been much in the news lately. That’s before we even think about the melting down of the domestic auto industry and the collapse of the related suppliers. And the enormous changes the last 20 years have brought to the music business. How did Detroit get here? What is happening to the people who remain? What about those fires? Mark Binelli provides answers to these and several other questions in his thoughtful book.

 Detroit used to be an alluring place, drawing workers from all over the country with its countless factories – it once was called “The City Where Life is Worth Living” (really). It had a population of nearly 2,000,000 people, skyscrapers, high employment, and even, in the Detroit Institute of Arts, one of the original castings of Rodin’s sculpture The Thinker. Over the last 50 years Detroit has declined: its population has plummeted to approximately 713,000, with 90,000 buildings abandoned. The school system is among the worst in the country, and its crime rates among the highest. “Along with empty skyscrapers and block-long factories fallen into ruin, entire residential streets, once densely populated, resembled fields in rural Arkansas . . . A coyote had just been spotted near downtown.” So Binelli moved back to Detroit – he grew up just outside the city – to experience “what happens to once-great place after it has been used up and discarded?”

Binelli found more than he expected. He visits a school for pregnant teenagers with a 90 percent graduation rate – and where a college acceptance letter is required for graduation. Besides attending school, students work on a farm located in the urban prairie behind the school, where the football field would be located. Each student tends her own vegetable plot – and most go to college.

But there’s a lot of empty space in Detroit, places that used to be neighborhoods, and no one knows what to do about it. Or, as an urban planner Binelli met put it, most of the urban planning scholarship is about growth. “There’s very little of value at all written about what do you do about decline.” Some lots have been left empty; others are a graveyard of failed urban renewal projects. Quite a few have been made into gardens. Then there are the art projects. Beginning in the mid-2000s Detroit gained a reputation for cool; movies were made and artists produced events there.

Binelli includes a great deal of Detroit history – Harry Houdini makes an important appearance – and an entertaining profile of Coleman Young (who provided a lot of material). Binelli himself eventually moved back to the East Coast to produce the book, but he’s clearly left something behind. And that’s appropriate because, as he points out, Detroit may be more the city of the future than of the past. Do you agree? Let us know in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail.com. I also blog about metrics at asbowie.blogspot.com.

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Events, History, Kids

20th Annual Bus Festival September 29!

September 20, 2013

The New York Transit Museum will hold its 20th annual Bus Festival on Sunday, September 29th, in conjunction with the Atlantic Antic. Visitors can board more than a dozen historic buses and trucks that will be parked on Boerum Place between State Street and Atlantic Avenue. The Bus Festival runs from 11 am to 5 pm and is free. In addition, the Transit Museum itself will be open, with a discounted admission of $1.

Looking for something more? Museum educators will lead children’s art projects and a photo activity.

For more information, check out the Museum’s website.

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