For the last year or so I've been working on a book about my grandmother and the illegal casino she worked at in Hot Springs, Arkansas that was mysteriously bombed in 1963. It's a story about three people's lives: my grandmother, an aging New York mobster, and liquor store owner who becomes one of the most powerful men in the state of Arkansas after building the casino he called The Vapors. It's about the town that was home to what Robert Kennedy called "the largest illegal gambling operation in America." But mainly it is a story about a family that struggled against every single bad thing that can beset a family and somehow make it out to the other side and survive.
A few months ago I convinced my own family to move from Brooklyn to Hot Springs so I could finish researching and writing the book. For some reason they agreed. Letter from Hot Springs is an occasional update on that adventure. It is sometimes about our life here in this strange and beautiful small southern town. It is sometimes about the weird and wonderful history I uncover while researching the book. It is sometimes just about whatever is on my mind. It's usually kind of long, and almost always written late at night.
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