For some additional context about that era, I’ve assembled a list of some of my favorite picture books set (at least partially) during the 1930s. There are undoubtedly some worthy subjects and titles that I’ve overlooked and would do well to add in updates to this post — I’d love to hear your suggestions.

Aliens Are Coming! The True Account of the 1938 War of the Worlds Radio Broadcast
by Meghan McCarthy
Alfred A. Knopf
2006
McCarthy revisits Orson Welles’ famously panic-inducing radio play by combining a smattering of the original script, a matter-of-fact description of the aftermath (“One man thought he saw a Martian spaceship”), and illustrations that offer the old-fashioned kick of cheesy sci-fi.

Amelia Earhart: The Legend of the Lost Aviator
by Shelley Tanaka, illustrated by David Craig
Abrams Books for Young Readers
2008
Tanaka’s stirring account of the aviator’s daring and determination awakened my own, long-dormant childhood fascination with Earhart.

Boys of Steel: The Creators of Superman
by Marc Tyler Nobleman, illustrated by Ross MacDonald
Alfred A. Knopf
2008
Nobleman and MacDonald make a dynamic duo in their depiction of how mild-mannered teens Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster parlayed the strength of their imaginations into an enduring hero.

Ella Fitzgerald: The Tale of a Vocal Virtuosa
by Andrea Davis Pinkney, illustrated by Brian Pinkney
Jump at the Sun/Hyperion Books for Children
2002
Hip feline “Scat Cat Monroe” takes readers on a stylish, jazzy tour through Fitzgerald’s rise from big-dreaming Yonkers girl to unforgettable First Lady of Song.

Hoover Dam
by Elizabeth Mann, illustrated by Alan Witschonke
Mikaya Press
2001
Mann’s Wonders of the World books are wonders in their own right. Her words and Witschonke’s art pay as much tribute and attention to the underappreciated workers as they do to the feat of engineering that tamed the Colorado River.

Seabiscuit Vs. War Admiral: The Greatest Horse Race in History
by Kat Shehata, illustrated by Jo McElwee
Angel Bea Publishing
2003
The story of the 1938 contest runs on two tracks — a ticker-tape version in the staccato stylings of a stadium announcer, and another in the warm prose of an author who knows how to unfold the winning tale of an unlikely champion.

Sky Boys: How They Built the Empire State Building
by Deborah Hopkinson, illustrated by James E. Ransome
Schwartz & Wade Books
2006
A boy with a newly unemployed father watches the rise of the New York City landmark — from the 50-foot toss of a red-hot rivet to the finished tower’s glow against Manhattan’s nighttime sky — with wonder and inspiration. Readers will, too.

That Book Woman
by Heather Henson, illustrated by David Small
Atheneum Books for Young Readers
2008
Henson and Small depict a pack-horse librarian’s impact on a farm family, told through the skeptical eye and mountain vernacular of a non-reading boy named Cal.

Woody Guthrie: Poet of the People
by Bonnie Christensen
Alfred A. Knopf
2001
With a generous dose of Guthrie’s own lyrics, Christensen shows how the singer and activist came to give voice to Americans in need through “This Land Is Your Land” and a thousand other songs.

As I mentioned a few months ago, my family is going to Boston for vacation later this summer. It will be the first time my wife and boys have been, and my first trip there since I was 11 years old, and so I’ve been on the lookout for books to prep us on our visit.

Complementing the titles mentioned (and commented upon) in my original post, here’s what we’ve currently got on our vacation-themed shelf. (Well, right now, these titles are actually piled up on the floor next to my desk, but I hope to have them back on the shelf before the kids are awake. Or perhaps I’ll treat the boys to a conspicuous show of putting books back on the shelf, but that’s really a topic for another post…)

• Goin’ to Boston: An Exuberant Journey in Song, by H. Ellen Margolin and illustrated by Emily Bolam
• The Freedom Trail: An Artist’s View, by Leonard Weber
• What’s the Big Idea? Four Centuries of Innovation in Boston, by Stephen Krensky
• Subway, by Anastasia Suen and illustrated by Karen Katz. It’s not Boston-specific, but we will be taking a lot of rides on the T.
• As I Was Crossing Boston Common, by Norma Farber and illustrated by Arnold Lobel
• Dangerous Crossing: The Revolutionary Voyage of John Quincy Adams, by Stephen Krensky and illustrated by Greg Harlin
• The Boston Coffee Party, by Doreen Rappaport and illustrated by Emily Arnold McCully
• George vs. George: The American Revolution as seen from Both Sides, by Rosalyn Schanzer
• You Wouldn’t Want to Be at the Boston Tea Party: Wharf Water Tea You’d Rather Not Drink, by Peter Cook and illustrated by David Antram
• Sleds on Boston Common: A Story from the American Revolution, by Louise Borden and illustrated by Robert Andrew Parker
• Old Ironsides: Americans Build a Fighting Ship, by David Weitzman
• The American Story, by Jennifer Armstrong and illustrated by Roger Roth. Especially for “1919 – The Great Molasses Flood,” but also for “1820 – The Whale’s Fury” — which leads us to…

Whales. We’ll be up bright and early (or early and bleary) one Sunday for a whale-watching cruise, which explains why we’ve got so many whale-related titles around the house these days:

• Whaling Days, by Carol Carrick and illustrated by David Frampton
• Revenge of the Whale: The True Story of the Whaleship Essex, by Nathaniel Philbrick
• Peggony-Po: A Whale of a Tale, by Andrea Davis Pinkney and illustrated by Brian Pinkney
• and, finally, Whale Port, by Mark Foster and illustrated by Gerald Foster

Where are you bound this summer (whether by flight or by foot), and are you reading anything to get ready?

Well, I guessed wrong, but not before I’d done a few drafts of the sort of Sputnik picture book I thought my boys might like. A few editors had a look and passed, and once the time remaining until the anniversary date shrank to less than the picture book production cycle, I set my manuscript aside.

Until today, that is. Below, for your watershed-commemoration and reading pleasure, I’ve posted my full manuscript for What-nik?!? Enjoy, comrades!

[Poster on bedroom wall:

One night only! Friday, October 11! Come see Mr. Spectacular! The Bruiser Brothers! The Masked Whacker! And more!]

When I went to bed that night, all I could think about was Sputnik.

[Family gathered around the radio:

“What-nik?!?”

“He said ‘Sputnik.’”]

We heard about it after dinner. The Russians — the Russians! — had launched this … thing into space, and it was sending back beeping signals.

It was called Sputnik. Sputnik weighed 184 pounds, and it was orbiting around and around the earth. Even over the United States.

[“Hey, 184 -- same as me.”

“Shhh, listen.”

Beep-beep-beep... beep-beep-beep]

Part of me was amazed, and part of me was scared. I wasn‘t sure which part was bigger.

Amazed because I didn‘t know anything about satellites or orbits or things that went “beep” in space. My dad knew a little, but he’d never tried to explain it before.

[“What makes Sputnik stay up there? Why doesn't it fly off into space or come crashing down?”

“Um, well... Gravity.”]

I was scared because the Russians were our enemy. We’d always heard that everything in the USA was better than in Russia. But we’d never launched a satellite, and now Russia had.

The worse an enemy is, the more names you have for them. We had a lot of names for the Russians.

[Russia
Soviet Union
Soviets
U.S.S.R.
Russkies
Communists
Commies
Reds
Pinkos]

The Russian leader once bragged, “We will bury you.” And if that wasn‘t frightening enough, at school we had to practice hiding under our desks in case a Russian bomb ever fell on us.

[“I’m not sure this will help.”]

The next day was Saturday. Instead of playing Mr. Spectacular vs. the Masked Whacker, my friends Ronnie and Dave and I talked about Sputnik.

[“Why don’t we just shoot it down?”

“Because it’s 560 miles up and going 18,000 miles an hour.”

“Do you think it’s got an A-bomb or an H-bomb?”

“Maybe a death ray.”

“Do you think it’s spying on us?”

“We aren't doing anything.”

“What does that ‘beep-beep-beep’ mean, anyway?”

“Someone told me that it’s really ‘deep-beep-beep.’”

“Well, what does it sound like to you?”

“‘Bleep-bleep-bleep.’”]

Most everyone took Sputnik seriously. Some people took it really seriously. My Uncle Earl, for one. My dad tried to be funny.

[“Not only are the blasted Russkies watching us, but you know what they’re gonna do next? Paint the moon red, just to show us they can!”

“Oh, come on. I weigh 184 pounds. How come no one’s scared of me?”]

All weekend, we could hear Sputnik beeping on the radio. We didn’t know if it was doing anything else. The Russians said it wasn‘t, but who believed them?

Politicians told us not to panic. But then they gave us reasons why we should.

[“If the Soviets can launch a Sputnik into orbit, what can’t they do? What can’t they do?”]

I learned everything I could about Sputnik, but even with three TV channels and two newspapers, it wasn‘t much. At school on Monday, everyone was talking about flying saucers. I tried to set them straight.

[“It’s actually round. Like a beach ball with antennas.”]

Our teachers told us how hard school was in Russia, and that was why they had the first satellite. We got twice as much homework as usual.

My mom went out and bought every science book she could find so that I could catch up with Russian kids.

[“Mom, this is about earthworms.”

“You think rocket scientists don’t need to know about earthworms?”]

I began to worry about Friday’s wrestling matches. Uncle Earl was supposed to take me, but he said Sputnik’s beeps were a secret code, and he wouldn‘t rest until he’d broken it.

[“Uncle Earl?”

“I’ll be out when I’m finished!”

Beep-beep-beep...

“‘Boo hoo hoo?’”

Beep-beep-beep...

“‘Bwa ha ha?’”]

I heard you could actually see Sputnik before sunrise or after sunset if it passed overhead. So I got up early and ate dinner late so I could watch for it.

Sometimes my friends joined me.

[“I bet we’ll beat ‘em to Mars.”]

Sometimes my dad did.

[“I don’t see why all the fuss. After all...”

“I know, Dad -- you weigh 184 pounds, too.”]

But Sputnik must have been over some other part of the world whenever I was looking.

Friday evening came. Mom was playing bridge. Dad said he had to work late. I sat on the porch to wait for Uncle Earl, just in case.

And then I saw a bright orange glow begin to streak across the sky. It was speeding along, but the sky was so big, it seemed to take forever. At that moment, I wasn’t scared at all. I was just amazed. People had put that streak up there.

[“It’s beautiful. No one told me Sputnik was beautiful.”]

My uncle showed up a few minutes later.

[“Did you break the code?”

“No. It broke me. Let’s go see some rasslin’.”]

Just before the main event, the announcer spoke to the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special guest tonight, joining us all the way from Moscow, Russia, in the U.S.S.R.”

The rest of the crowd booed, but I didn’t. The masked grappler looked familiar. And ridiculous.

“Weighing in at a mighty 184 pounds, it’s… Sputnikolai!”

The boos turned to laughter. Sputnikolai winked at me.

Now I really wasn’t scared.

This month, we’re focusing on biographies of Americans born within a decade of Alan Lomax — between 1905 and 1925. The subjects are an eclectic bunch:

• Black Cat Bone: The Life of Blues Legend Robert Johnson by J. Patrick Lewis and illustrated by Gary Kelley
• Morris and Buddy: The Story of the First Seeing Eye Dog by Becky Hall and illustrated by Doris Ettlinger
• Clyde Tombaugh and the Search for Planet X by Margaret K. Wetterer and illustrated by Laurie A. Caple
• Rosa Parks: My Story by Rosa Parks with Jim Haskins
• Joe Louis: America’s Fighter by David A. Adler and illustrated by Terry Widener
• Rachel Carson: Pioneer of Ecology by Kathleen V. Kudlinski and illustrated by Ted Lewin
• Action Jackson by Jan Greenberg and Sandra Jordan and illustrated by Robert Andrew Parker
• Babe Didrikson Zaharias: The Making of a Champion by Russell Freedman
• Grace Hopper: Computer Whiz by Patricia J. Murphy
• When Everybody Wore a Hat by William Steig

The boys’ favorite so far seems to be the Grace Hopper book, because of its deft use of a visual pun. It includes a photograph of the computer bug — that is, the actual moth, taped to a notecard — that brought an early room-sized calculator to its knees. Even Jackson Pollock can’t compete with that.

Maybe it’s because war seems to have greater potential for drama, not to mention cooler technology. Or maybe — just maybe — this country simply has a richer history of conflict engagement than conflict avoidance, nonviolence, etc.

As peaceful topics go, Martin Luther King, Jr., is an obvious exception, and for this month’s U.S. history reading for 8-year-old S and 3-year-old F, I brought home Doreen Rappaport and illustrator Bryan Collier’s Martin’s Big Words.

There’s also a four-decades-old gem by Betty Baker and illustrated by Robert Lopshire, The Pig War.

Beyond that, I found a contemporary fiction picture book reflecting on our relationship with Japan (Jean Davies Okimoto and illustrator Doug Keith’s Dear Ichiro), whimsical cautionary tales both Seuss (The Butter Battle Book) and Seussian (Dav Pilkey’s debut, available here in its entirety), Todd Parr’s conceptual The Peace Book, and Vladimir Radunsky’s highly appealing (but, sadly, Belgiancentric) Manneken Pis: A Simple Story of a Boy Who Peed on a War.

(Many — shoot, maybe all — of these titles are featured at Weapons of Mass Instruction; thanks to Kids Lit for that link. I’d also hoped to bring home Paths to Peace: People Who Changed the World, but whoever last checked that one out from my library has been sitting on it for nearly a month past its due date. When I get my hands on that lousy so-and-so who hasn’t turned in that razzafrackin‘ peace book, I’ll…)

Anyway, here’s my Memorial Day Weekend question for you all: For young children — readers of picture books through early chapter books — what other nonfiction history titles can you recommend on this topic?

Until next week — peace, y’all.

With baseball books, it’s easy to take the subject too seriously: It’s a metaphor for life! For America! For innocence (or the loss thereof)! Ancient stats and facts get a lot of play because they all mean something.

There’s a lot of history and a lot of lore in this new collaboration by Cook, Charlton and MacDonald, but most importantly there’s a lot of fun. Packed with old-time lingo and comically over-the-top art, Hey Batta Batta Swing! makes for a great leadoff book in this month’s U.S. history reading for 8-year-old S and 3-year-old F.

The other titles in this month’s lineup (which overlaps a little with the list offered recently by The Miss Rumphius Effect) include:

• Ballpark: The Story of America’s Baseball Fields by Lynn Curlee
• Take Me Out to the Ball Game by Jim Burke, with lyrics by Jack Norworth
• Home Run: The Story of Babe Ruth by Robert Burleigh and Mike Wimmer
• Players in Pigtails by Shana Corey and illustrated by Rebecca Gibbon
• Teammates by Peter Golenbock and illustrated by Paul Bacon
• Say Hey!: A Song of Willie Mays by Peter Mandel and illustrated by Don Tate
• Free Baseball by Sue Corbett (Yes, it’s contemporary rather than history. Yes, it’s fiction rather than nonfiction. Still, the ump says it’s safe.)

There are lots of recurring themes among these titles — two have a character named “Katie Casey,” there are multiple (and conflicting) explanations of how Ruth came to be known as “Babe,” we get recurring descriptions of the long-gone practice of “soaking” (getting a runner out by hitting him with the ball), and so on. It’s discovering these sorts of connections that make reading history with my sons such a pleasure.

Say, maybe these connections all mean something. Maybe baseball is really a metaphor for children’s literature…