War, nature, sports heroes, exotic lands, mysterious cultures and a loving family— Bill Amos experienced so much of what the world has to offer. Bill was all of these things; equally interested in subjects big or small, from world wars to the tiny organisms living in nearby puddles.

It’s raining gently today, but not enough to discourage activity. It invokes memories of a single rainy day in the distant past, and wondermen…

Not long ago I came across a very old X-ray of a 12-year-old’s broken arm.

TheNorth Star Monthlytriggers fading memories, as it did a couple of weeks ago in these pages when it republished a brief note from the Septem…

We conjure up figments of the imagination— monsters and demons, things that go bump in the night, big-headed aliens from faraway worlds. Unrea…

Even if our heads don’t stick far out in front, we like them just the way they are. But extended heads allow other creatures to sample whateve…

Right on schedule this spring, showy invaders will begin loosely covering clusters of day lilies around my garden pools. Morning-glory stems r…

Before my son could walk, I would stretch his arms wide and say,“So-o-o-o-o big!” Small as he was, the laughing child was a giant— not yet amo…

When Arnold Schönberg wrote his sextet tone poem“Verklärte Nacht” in 1899, he had in mind Richard Demel’s poem of the same name, in which a li…

Two ponds in the Northeast Kingdom stand out as the culmination of my long fascination with small bodies of fresh water.

Our once-in-a-lifetime Smithsonian-Bredin Caribbean Expedition could not be repeated today. In 1959, islands of the Lesser Antilles were still…

Before the Caribee sailed away from Martinique’s northwestern shore, we stared in silence at the vast scar left by Mt. Pelée’s cataclysmic eru…

With hatches battened down, sails close-hauled, dishes and movable objects secured, the Caribee headed north into the Lesser Antilles with Cap…

Winter was on the wane and a blaze in the faculty lounge’s limestone fireplace brought us together as coffee was served in monogrammed demitas…

After three years of bitter fighting, the Philippine-American War subsided in 1902 with Emilio Aguinaldo’s capture and his pledge of allegianc…

The 10-week Spanish-American War of 1898 is not a forgotten war, yet in most American eyes hostilities were limited to events in nearby Cuba a…

On television the other evening I listened to a World War II veteran tell of being introduced to a high school audience as a veteran of World …

Many who live in Hawaii exist on the cusp of history, unaware of an ancient splendor lying beneath the façade of Western culture. It was only …

It’s been said that I hear only what I want to hear. That’s not fair. An audiologist’s examination confirmed that I can’t hear the full range …

An indefinable scent, perhaps a fragrance, or even an overpowering stink doesn’t always fade away. Over the years, distinctive odors remain un…

Fifty years ago, I stood in a drenching rain deep in a Northeast Kingdom forest. I was there because I wanted to learn what happened when rain…

It was once said that there were more cows in Vermont than people. Although this is no longer true, people and cows together (also sheep, dogs…

A Vermont road map invites adventure. It offers a web of vehicular pathways for wheels of every kind. Trucks and speeding cars follow the thic…

More than forty years after arriving in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom, we consider ourselves — if rarely considered by others — old timers. This…

As we found our footing in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom, the beauty of the scene, the grace of old New England towns with their sensible homes …

We arrived in the Northeast Kingdom 56 years ago, but just barely. Refugees from Middle Atlantic flatland, we started off as summer folk for s…

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A half-century ago our family regularly travelled by VW Microbus from our home in Flatland, Delaware to Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom. For ten y…

After a couple of months of translating duty in JICPOA, (Joint Intelligence Pacific Ocean Area) I received a puzzling request. First thing the…

The week Catherine and I thought we would have together in San Francisco vanished almost as soon as we arrived. Along with a few fellow gradua…

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It was time to think of change, of leaving a familiar home on the outskirts of a great Japanese city to try making it on my own 7,000 miles aw…

As the 1930s drew to a close, Americans living in Japan felt the effects of government scrutiny more than ever. We began encountering restrict…

As members of Tokyo’s tight-knit foreign community in the mid-1930s we had little difficulty keeping in touch with the outside world. Whatever…

It wasn't my choice to leave the Philippines in 1934. My father had a new job waiting far away to the north in a land I knew nothing about—Imp…

A few readers living nearby know I'm a retired biologist, and a long-time naturalist. If asked what prompted me to pursue such a calling, I cr…

In my early school days I thought a map of the Philippine Archipelago looked like a donkey facing east. The head, ears and muzzle were the lar…

Trolling the Internet I came across a picture of an Igorot dressed in T-shirt and blue jeans and wearing lightning-slashed Nike sneakers. He w…

"People shouldn't have to do that," a six-year-old boy thought to himself. Eighty-three years later he still feels the same way.

This is a true story about an American boy living on the other side of the world in 1934 and of legendary baseball heroes he knew only through…