A Place Called Alice, My nostalgic memoir of life on the North Dakota Prairie. As one of the very first baby boomers I grew up in a little prairie town, that, like a lot of prairie towns, is mostly gone anymore. It was a time before God got put into the Pledge of Allegiance, a time when portraits of Washington and Lincoln, and a copy of the Ten Commandments in gothic script had an honored presence on the walls at school, and World War II was still a part of the short term memory. Kids today would more than likely say our lives were boring. Our bicycles only had one speed, baseball bats were made of wood, and you had to check and see that no one else was on the line when you used the telephone that stuck up off the desk like in a 1930’s movie. I guess I never realized how unsophisticated we were, we were like a Norman Rockwell painting and to tell the honest truthI miss it.My writing, the telling of the stories of my memories of small town North Dakota in free, and admittedly unsophisticated verse, has been described as nostalgic narrative because for me, it’s a journey of no distance from my heart to a Place Called Alice.