Invasion Day: An Oral History of the Veech War by Micah Gurley (good books for high schoolers .TXT) 📕

the crap out of us if they wanted. Not only that, we were all deaf. And our ears were bleeding.

Thomas: Ruptured eardrums

Jeremy: Yes, brother, I know that. So, there we were on the beach, helpless. Of course, Thomas and I were both crying. I mean, we didn't know what was going on. My grandmother had it a lot worse, of course. She was old, around sixty-one or two at the time. Her body just didn't handle it very well. (He stops talking and looks at his brother.)

Thomas: After a few more minutes, we were both able to function again. At least control our bodies. Our grandmother couldn't. We tried to help, tried to talk, but we couldn't hear ourselves. It was very confusing and scary.

We looked for people to help, but the beach was empty, except for a few people still on the ground. We had to help her a lot, almost carry her, but we eventually got her up and to the car. She couldn't drive though, so we took her keys and I drove for the first time. It was difficult for many reasons, least of all because I could barely reach the pedals. Fortunately, we lived close, and Cape May isn't that big.

Jeremy: Our mom was already home, and she rushed out of the car, mouth open in horror. She almost squeezed us to death, checked our ears, started crying, and hugged us again. She got grandmother inside and laid her down right beside our grandfather, who seemed to be sleeping. She tried to call 911, but there was no signal, and we didn't have a landline to use anymore. My dad, who had gotten home right before the sound weapon, drove to the hospital to check everything out and decided it was a no-go. He told us he couldn't even get close to the entrance. So we kept our grandparents at home and tried to take care of them as best we could.

Thomas: A few days later, our grandmother died while she slept. She had regained consciousness for just a few minutes that day. She gave us both hugs and kisses and tried to speak, but her voice didn't work well. She was so weak. I had to lift her head to hug her. We put her hand on grandpa's hand, she gave us a last smile, and she closed her eyes. She died peacefully, with her family, and we're thankful for that. Our grandfather passed away hours later, never regaining consciousness.

Jeremy: Nobody knew what happened. I mean, we saw the bombs drop on NYC. It was almost on a loop, but people hadn't figured out that it was a sound bomb. Many of the major news channels just went dead. I guess because the people were... well, dead.

We stayed at home for a few days or a week, I don't remember. We tried to call people but never got anyone on the line My dad thought China was wrapped up in all of it. (Laughs and elbows his brother.) He got out his gun and created an escape plan for us. On day four, I think, a TV reporter came back on who seemed to know what was happening. He explained that the aliens attacked us and that they were landing troops in some of our cities. We found out we were at war. Crazy. The story blew our minds, but we didn't doubt for a minute the information about sonic weapons. Cape May is about ninety miles from Philidelphia, and we were still affected.

Thomas: We heard about aliens in D.C., but my dad didn't wasn't sure if we should leave. It's not that close to us, and we're a small town, so he decided it was best to stay. It turned out that wasn't too bad of a decision. However, I can tell you that I've had enough fish to last a lifetime. When all the food ran out, we had to fish everyday.

The Veech moved through Pennsylvania and up to New Jersey, but none of them came to our town. He heard some battles though and saw plenty of jets and their ships flying overhead. It was scary, never knowing if we were going to be attacked, always watching the sky.

We got lucky, they skipped us.

Whose idea was the monument?

Jeremy: You know, I'm not sure. It came up in the town hall a few years after the war. Ideas were thrown around about what to make. One guy wanted a chicken because he said his chicken scared the aliens off. (Laughs.) Do you remember that, Thomas? But most people wanted a coastguardsman statue because they had their boot camp there and helped everyone in town when they weren't fighting. We liked that idea as well, but the Coast Guard told us it wasn't necessary.

Thomas: It was Jeremy's idea about grandparents. We weren't the only people to lose our grandparents. That sound weapon killed almost ninety percent of people over sixty within 100 miles. It killed a whole generation almost.

Jeremy: I just wanted them to be remembered.

Momma Keets

Marion, Virginia

Virginia is hot. The sounds of children playing vibrate through the air. Screams and giggles come from children playing some sort of tag game. Behind the incredibly large yard sits a massive octagon-shaped house, called unsurprisingly, the Octagon House. The seventeen-room house built by slaves thrums with life as I walk up to meet the woman who runs it.

Momma Keets – as she instructed me to call her – is waiting for me in a rocking chair in the wrap-around front porch. She is a short woman, not quite reaching five feet. In her seventies, she radiates energy that equals any of the children playing. She greets me with a hug after slapping away my extended hand.

Hello Mr. Journalist man, come on and sit down now. It's hot out here. Drink that sweet tea, young man; it'll break that heat. You from up North? It doesn't matter none no way. Drink that tea