Beacon Street

I don't think we ever expected anything in Brookline.

But I remember all of a sudden there were ambulances and, you know, state troopers and every police car in the town, you know, shooting down Beacon Street.

And I was at a coffee shop and someone said that there were shootings at two clinics.

This is a WBZ News 4 special report.

And she was someone, a young woman who had been a very active pro-choice person and knew my sympathies in that direction.

And It was just a nightmare.

There was a vigil that evening down on Beacon Street, and I went, I put on my clerical clothes and went down.

I wanted to be a pastoral presence and provide whatever comfort I could and reassurance that God and hope was in the midst of all this somehow.

He had been a classmate and friend of mine.

He had mysteriously disappeared from his laboratory on Beacon Street, and nothing further had been heard of him until one night four years later, when a hollow projectile had dropped from the sky onto my farm, bearing in its interior a holographic account of my friend's adventure during the preceding four years.

This story I had edited, and it appeared under the title The Radio Man.

It related how Miles, while experimenting with the wireless transmission of matter, had accidentally projected himself through space to the planet Venus.

I asked Miles why he had not brought his wonderful portable radio set down with him to show to us.

You forget, was his reply, that, for some unexplained reason, my apparatus will not transmit metals through space.

Do you not remember all the steel buttons, garter snaps, and other metallic objects which were left behind in my Beacon Street laboratory that day when I disappeared from the earth? True.

Now that he mentioned it, I did remember.

Now, tell me honestly what comes of it.

I suppose you have there a brilliant society, numbers of poets, scholars, philosophers, statesmen, all up and down Beacon Street.

Your evenings must be sparkling.

Your press must scintillate.

Why change something you already have? That sounds like my mother, right? But it's fascinating because it's true.

You walk down Beacon Street in Boston to this day, and that row of those bow-fronted buildings, you will see some purple glass.

Absolutely.

And

He had been a classmate and friend of mine.

He had mysteriously disappeared from his laboratory on Beacon Street, and nothing further had been heard of him until one night four years later when a hollow projectile had dropped from the sky onto my farm, bearing in its interior a holographic account of my friend's adventure during the preceding four years.

This story I had edited, and it appeared under the title The Radio Man.

It related how Miles, while experimenting with the wireless transmission of matter, had accidentally projected himself through space to the planet Venus.

I asked Miles why he had not brought his wonderful portable radio set down with him to show to us.

'You forget,' was his reply, 'that for some unexplained reason, my apparatus will not transmit metals through space.

Do you not remember all the steel buttons, garter snaps, and other metallic objects which were left behind in my Beacon Street laboratory that day when I disappeared from the Earth?' True.

Now that he mentioned it, I did remember.