Brendan Mathews

She was Kitty to her parents, Katherine to the nuns in high school, Kate when she was in college. But to anyone who knew her then—​Chicago in the first years of the nineties, her hands tearing at her guitar like a kid unwrapping a Christmas prese [...]

This is the story my father never tells. It is August 1973. My father, Theobald Dunn, is twenty-four. For the past three years he has been stationed at a US Army base in Alaska, listening for the first stirrings of a Soviet missile launch. Before [...]