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Featured on USC Shoah Foundation

Posted by on Mar 25, 2014 in BLOG | 0 comments

Featured on USC Shoah Foundation

Heather Dune Macadam is fighting to bring the story of 999 girls to life, featured on USC SHOAH. Macadam is currently fundraising to make a documentary film called First Transport to Auschwitz: The Story of 999 Girls. The deadline for her Kickstarter campaign is Mon., March 31; click here to make a donation.

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Equinox 1984

Posted by on Mar 20, 2014 in BLOG | 0 comments

Equinox 1984

After a horrible beginning to the historic year of 1984. I was about to perform in Carnegie Hall! I thought my life, career and luck had really changed for the better, but had it? I had been hired by Shisiedo Cosmetics to dance with my then partner from the Martha Graham Comtemporary Dance Company, Charles Brown. Charlie and I were a perfect match – me pale as sea foam, he the softest latte. The costumer used tea to dye our leotards, so we would look nude on stage and I arrived at the hotel at one o’clock in the morning to begin getting into make-up. I was too nervous to eat, but there were platters of sushi and sashimi to keep us going through the night. It...

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SAM WHERE ARE YOU? Jan 22 1984 — MISSING PERSON

Posted by on Jan 22, 2014 in BLOG | 0 comments

SAM WHERE ARE YOU? Jan 22 1984 — MISSING PERSON

It was three weeks today — thirty years ago and three weeks that Sam Todd disappeared off the face of this earth and left us in his wake wondering what happened. The theories we compiled in those first few days had dried up. The harsh reality of mortality had raised its head and caught us unaware. The police, finally arrived 5 days after Sam disappeared, and brought dogs to sniff Sam’s things and head out onto the icy streets of Manhattan to try and find a scent. What I know now is that they did not bring body sniffing dogs–they brought drug sniffers. The dogs sniffed around the loft sniffed Sam’s clothes, left us alone. There was nothing there....

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Mondays are Murder!

Posted by on Jan 22, 2014 in BLOG | 0 comments

Mondays are Murder!

My latest piece of noir and my first piece of flash fiction will be published on Akashic Books online  “Mondays are Murder” on 9 September 2013. “Mondays Are Murder allows us to offer a glimpse of cities not yet seen, neighborhoods or hidden corners not yet explored…” “Duct Tape” was inspired by a real conversation that my partner, Simon Worrall, and I had in bed one morning, after we moved to France. Be afraid. Be very afraid of mouth noises.     photo by Chip...

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Jan 6, 2014 – 30 Years Ago Today, Yale Divinity Student, Sam Todd was still a Missing Person…

Posted by on Jan 6, 2014 in BLOG | 0 comments

Jan 6, 2014 – 30 Years Ago Today, Yale Divinity Student, Sam Todd was still a Missing Person…

It was a Friday – Sam had been gone for a week tomorrow and the police were finally on the case. It is here that my memory begins to get really fuzzy. I know I participated in the search and placing flyers on Friday. When the police couldn’t get involved in a search until Sam had been missing for 5 days, Sam’s friends and family did what smart people do – they acted. That weekend the city was a swarm of Vassar and Yale students looking for Sam and plastering flyers all over the streets. A headquarters was set up with a map of the areas we had searched already, areas that needed to be searched still. Adam and Sam’s other brothers kept an eye...

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#Happy New Year… Jan 3, 2014 – 30 Years Ago Sam Todd’s Disappearance was Real.

Posted by on Jan 3, 2014 in BLOG | 0 comments

#Happy New Year… Jan 3, 2014 – 30 Years Ago Sam Todd’s Disappearance was Real.

Now there was an eerie feeling in the loft.  We left the door open that night and the downstairs door ajar, just in case, waiting for Sam like we were waiting for Elijah. It was a Tuesday and when we  woke up in the morning hoping Sam would have snuck in and curled up under a blanket. It was with hollow disappointment that we looked at our empty couches, made coffee, dressed for work, made our way uptown, left the door open, just in case. At night, when I got home from the Pilates studio and dance classes, we would scour the streets again. Walking on frozen sidewalks, calling Sam’s name–the desperation in our voices pitched with anguish. Despair. The colder...

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