Standard Fanfic Disclaimer that wouldn't last ten seconds in a court of law. This is an amateur work of fiction, produced solely for the author's pleasure and amusement, and the pleasure and amusement of any Smallville, Magnificent Seven, and/or Alias Smith and Jones fans who may happen to read it. No financial profit has been made, nor will be made, from the writing and sharing of this intent to defraud copyright holders exists. Originally printed in the fanzine Magnificent Crossovers #1 from Neon RainBow Press, and cross-posted at AO3. This is a Magnificent Seven AU, wherein Our Heroes are high school students at Smallville High, in Smallville Kansas, and classmates with a young man named Clark Kent.

History Project

a Smallville/Magnificent Seven AU/Alias Smith and Jones story

by Susan M. M.


Mrs. Vernage finished taking attendance. "Standish."

"Present."

"Sullivan." Chloe waved in response. "Tanner."

"Yes'm."

"Wilmington."

"Yo."

"Here will do, Buck. Good, all present. Get out a pen or pencil and clear your desk. Time for a pop quiz." Mrs. Vernage ignored the groans and complaints as she handed out papers to the students in the four front desks. "Take one, pass the rest back."

Lana Lang raised her hand. "Does this go on this report card or the next one?"

"Today's the last day of the grading period. This will go on the report card coming out in two weeks. It's a fairly easy quiz, shouldn't take you more than five minutes. Consider it a last chance to add one more good grade to this report card," Mrs. Vernage explained. "Start as soon as you have your paper."

Clark Kent turned over his paper. As Mrs. Vernage had said, it was fairly easy: 10 matching questions identifying historical figures, 10 multiple choice questions for social studies vocabulary.

Mrs. Vernage, a middle-aged redhead whose hair was liberally salted with white, went up and down the aisles. She stopped at Vin's desk, leaned down, and whispered something. She continued on, walking slowly, but her eyes continually darting everywhere. After ten minutes, she announced, "Time's up. Pass your papers forward, done or not.

"That was the last assignment for the old grading period. Listen up, and I'll tell you about the first assignment for the next grading period. As you know, I'm new to the area." She was a long-term sub. She had replaced the previous social studies teacher, who had taken an early retirement after earning a place on the Wall of Weird. "I don't know much about local history, so here's a chance for all of us to find out a little more."

Several of the students exchanged worried glances.

"We're going to do a research project on Smallville's history. Three to five pages written, plus a two to five minute oral report."

Ezra Standish raised his hand. "Mrs. Vernage? There isn't five minutes worth of history in Smallville."

"I think you'll be surprised by how much you and your partner will be able to find," the teacher contradicted him, smiling to take the sting from her rebuttal.

"Partner?" JD Dunne repeated.

"You will be working with a partner. And in answer to your next question, no, you may not change your partner. I've chosen them, and they were not chosen at random."

"Are you assigning the topics?" asked Josiah Sanchez.

"I want you and your partner to choose the topic. However, I am reserving veto power over your choices. Now, I'm sure your English teacher has explained the five-step writing process. Who can tell me the first step?"

"Pre-writing," Chloe blurted out.

"Good. But next time, raise your hand. Who can define pre-writing for me?" the teacher asked. "Clark?"

"Getting your ideas together. Making word-webs, graphic organizers, that sort of thing," the dark-haired farmboy replied.

"Excellent. For the pre-writing stage of your report, you and your partner will select your topic and begin researching. Where could you research local history?" Mrs. Vernage asked.

"The internet," Ezra volunteered.

"The library," Lana said.

"Good beginning, but let's try thinking outside the box. What else?"

Chloe volunteered, "The archives of the Smallville Ledger."

No one offered any other suggestions.

"Is anyone familiar with Studs Turkel?" asked Mrs. Vernage. A few heads nodded; most students looked blank.

"Oral history," Chloe realized.

"Exactly," Mrs. Vernage said approvingly. "Ask your grandparents, ask your great-aunt. What was life like when they were young? What did soldiers from Smallville do in World War II?"

"We could interview the residents of the retirement home," suggested Lana. She did volunteer work there.

"Now you're on the right track." Mrs. Vernage wrote 'pre-writing' on the board. "What's the second stage of the writing process?"

Clark raised his hand. "Rough draft."

"Correct." She wrote that on the board. "Who can tell me the other stages of the writing process? Chris?"

"Editing?" Chris Larabee said uncertainly.

"That's step four. What comes before editing and after rough draft?" When no one volunteered, she looked around for a victim. "Nathan?"

Nathan Jackson thought a moment. "Rewriting?"

"Close. Before you can rewrite, you need to look at it again. Re-view it," she emphasized.

"Revision," Nathan realized.

Mrs. Vernage nodded. She wrote 'revision' and 'editing' on the board.

"Is this an English assignment or social studies?" Vin complained.

Mrs. Vernage grinned. "See what happens when the school hires an ex-English teacher for a social studies class? This is a research project. Your goal is to learn how to research a topic, organize your ideas, and write them in a coherent manner. Local history is merely a means to an end. The techniques you learn doing this project can be applied to an English assignment, or a project for nearly any other subject."

A few students groaned. There was nothing worse than a teacher who actually wanted the class to learn something, as opposed to simply turning in an assignment.

"Who can tell me the final stage of the writing process?"

Buck raised his hand. "Sharing."

Chloe shook her head. "Publishing."

"You're both right. The final stage is to complete your project, and share it with an audience. Some English books call it publishing, some – especially for the lower grades – call it sharing." Mrs. Vernage wrote 'publishing' on the board. "You will share, or publish, your assignments when you make your oral reports for your classmates, and turn your written reports in to me."

"What should the reports be on?"

"Does spelling count?"

"Edmund Small founded this town in 1854." Mrs. Vernage wrote the name and date on the board. "You can do anything from that date to 1962. And yes," the teacher added, "spelling always counts."

"Why 1962?" Clark asked.

"Because that's the year I was born, and I refuse to acknowledge anything during my lifetime as 'history'," she replied.

"But the meteor show was in 1989," Chloe protested.

"The meteor shower was not the only thing that ever happened in Smallville. Did you know Quantrill's Raiders once attacked the town? Do you know who Quantrill's Raiders were? Or you can go before 1854, if you'd like to explore the Native American tribes that lived in the area before Edmund Small brought the first group of white settlers. Which tribes lived here? Potawatomi, Shawnee, Cheyenne, who? Who from Smallville served in the Spanish-American War? Did they come back alive and whole? Did they come back missing a limb, or did they die of typhoid fever before they ever saw a battlefield? Was anyone famous born here? Did anyone famous pass through here?"

"No one famous ever came from Smallville, nor is ever likely to," muttered Ezra. His southern accent betrayed his non-Kansas origin.

"Explore. Investigate. Anybody watch Magic School Bus when they were younger?" Mrs. Vernage quoted, " 'Take chances. Get messy. Make mistakes.' You're far too young to already be looking for the easiest way, the straightest path. Take 'the road less traveled by'. I want you to exercise your brain." Realizing she was on the verge of losing their attention, she turned on the overhead projector. "These are some websites you might find useful. Copy down the URLs. I'm going to assign the partners now. Make sure you trade phone numbers with your study partners, and e'dresses if you have e-mail.

"Buck Wilmington and Lana Lang."

"Lucky Buck is lucky again," the dark-haired football star said in a stage whisper.

"She's your study partner, not your prom date," Mrs. Vernage informed him primly. She lowered her voice, although she could still be heard by most of the class. "If I were you, I'd let Lana double-check your spelling and punctuation."

Buck's face fell.

"Vin Tanner and Clark Kent. Chloe Sullivan and Nathan Jackson. Ezra Standish and Chris Larabee. Mary Ann Sheridan and Cynthia Kingsley. Josiah Sanchez and JD Dunne." Mrs. Vernage continued down the list in reverse alphabetical order, until everyone in the class had been partnered. "Take what's left of class to get together with your partners, begin thinking of possible topics. Remember to trade phone numbers," she repeated. "I will need to approve your choice of topic by Wednesday. Monday don't come here; report directly to the computer lab." She looked them over. "Get together with your partners now. And no, you may not trade partners."

Vin gave Chris an anguished glance. New to town, Vin was a foster child who lived with the Larabees. Chris usually acted as his guide, his protector, and especially, his tutor. Academics didn't come easily to Vin.

Clark picked up his books and moved next to Vin. "Well, any ideas?"

Vin shook his head. "I ain't been in Smallville much longer than Mrs. Vernage has. Local Indians, maybe?"

Clark tried not to react. Joseph Willow Brook, a tribal elder of the Kwatchee, looked on him as the numann, a semi-messiah. And the petroglyphs in the Indian caverns which proved Kyptonians had visited Kansas before … no, he'd rather not involve anyone else in studying them. Too dangerous.

"Maybe we could research Edmund Small?" Clark suggested.

"Sounds kind of boring," Vin said.

Clark nodded in agreement. "Yeah." He wrote his phone number and e'dress on a sheet of paper, then handed it to Vin. Vin did likewise, and both thought a moment.

"Anybody famous born here?" asked Vin.

"Not that I know of," Clark replied.

"They ever find dinosaur fossils hereabouts?"

Clark shook his head. "I'll check the 'Net, but I don't think so."

The bell rang.

"Does everyone have their partner's phone number?" Mrs. Vernage asked. "Remember, Monday we meet in the computer lab. Homework: start thinking about your topic. Be ready to make your final decision by Wednesday. Dismissed."

The students gathered up their belongings and filed out of the room.

"Clark? Can you spare me a moment?"

"Sure." Grabbing his books, he walked to the teacher's desk.

Mrs. Vernage kept her voice quiet. "I picked you and Vin as partners quite deliberately. You're a good reader, and … he's not. He's not stupid," she added hastily, "but he doesn't read well."

"Dyslexia?" Clark asked.

"Possibly." Although Vin's cumulative folder said he had learning disabilities, Mrs. Vernage suspected that with being bounced from one foster home to another, transferred from one school to another, he'd simply never stayed in one place long enough to have been taught properly. However, when she'd mentioned this theory to the counselor, he'd huffily reminded her that her credentials were in English and social studies, not special education, and not to interfere in things she didn't understand. "Vin needs a partner who'll be sympathetic to his difficulties, but won't coddle him or do all the work for him."

"So that's why you put him with me instead of Chris." Clark thought a moment. "Aren't most dyslexics pretty bright?"

"Thomas Edison, George Lucas, Pablo Picasso. Can you make it to your next class on time, or should I write you a pass?"

Clark glanced at the clock. The last thing he needed was another tardy on his record. "Maybe a pass wouldn't hurt."


As usual, Vin Tanner sat in the bleachers during football practice. His books were next to him, but he spent more time watching his foster brother and the other players than attempting to do his homework. After practice, Vin approached Clark.

"Hey, Clark, I got a notion. You scared of graveyards?" Vin asked.

"I don't know I'd go to one at midnight on Halloween, but not scared, no," Clark replied.

"Had an aunt crazy about genealogy." 'Aunt Ethel' had actually been a former foster-mother's live-in mother-in-law, but Vin didn't feel like going into details. "She spent as much time in cemeteries as she did on the 'Net. Used to drag me along sometimes. I'm not much at writing reports, but I'm an expert on tombstone rubbings."

"You think we could get three pages out of tombstone rubbings?"

"Might see something that gives us an idea, maybe find a pattern."

"I've got chores in the morning, but I could meet you there after lunch," Clark suggested.

"Okay."


"Please remind me," Ezra entreated, "why we are prowling around a cemetery on a chilly autumn afternoon, instead of surfing the 'Net like civilized human beings?"

"Because Mrs. Vernage likes it when you 'think outside the box,' and I can use all the extra credit I can get," Vin reminded him.

"This is about as 'outside the box' as you can get," Chris confirmed. He turned to his foster brother. "This was your idea. Where do we start?"

"These markers are pretty modern. Let's find some older ones." Vin pointed eastward.

"And then?" Clark asked.

"Then we start looking for patterns."

"What sort of patterns?" asked Ezra.

"Like the Johnsons always live to 80 or more, or a fever hit the town and dozens died within the same month. Epitaphs, monument styles, just keep your eyes open. Something will jump out at you."

"I would prefer not to have something jump out at me in a cemetery, thank you very much," Ezra replied.

"If this were a horror movie, the spooky music should start right about now," Clark teased.

"Let's just get this done so we can go to the Talon and get some coffee or hot chocolate," Chris said. While he wasn't scared, he saw no reason to spend more time than necessary in the graveyard.

The four teenagers wandered into the older section of the cemetery.

"This fellow served in the Civil War." An awestruck tone filled Chris' voice at the age of the tombstone.

"The War Between the States," Ezra muttered under his breath.

"Does it say what unit he was with?" Vin asked.

"Actually, yes," Ezra confirmed. "The 13th Kansas Volunteer Infantry."

"See if there are any other Civil War veterans, and if it says what regiment they were with. They usually recruited geographically back then. Most soldiers in a company generally came from the same county," Vin said. His last foster father, the one before Mr. Larabee, had been addicted to the History Channel.

They tramped between the markers and monuments, but nothing – neither ideas nor zombies – jumped out at them.

Suddenly, Vin swore.

"What is it?" Chris asked.

"Take a look at this," Vin replied.

The other three hurried to see what had caught his attention. A black marble stone bore the names of Daniel and Sarah Heyes. Both had died on August 23, 1863.

"So?"

"Look at that one." Vin pointed to the neighboring stone.

"Jesse and Naomi Curry," Clark read aloud. He looked up at Vin blankly.

"Don't you get it? Heyes and Curry?" Vin asked excitedly.

"Is that like Currier and Ives?" Ezra jested.

"Try like finding the Youngers buried next to the Jameses," Vin countered. When no one appeared to catch his meaning or share his enthusiasm, he explained. "Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry were outlaws. Wasn't a bank or train west of the Mississippi safe from 'em. What if these were their families?"

"These stones are marble, whereas most of the rest are granite or limestone," Ezra observed. "Perhaps your desperadoes paid for the stones out of their ill-gotten gains."

Chris examined the stones more carefully. On either side of the large marble tombstones were smaller stones. The carvings indicated that the people buried beneath them were children, also named Heyes and Curry. "These folks didn't just die the same year. They died on the same day. All of 'em. Maybe your outlaws killed their families."

Vin shook his head. "From what the History Channel said, they were supposed to have never killed a single soul."

"Unusual for outlaws," Ezra commented.

"Two families who died on the same day, and a possible outlaw connection. I think that's worth exploring a little further in the computer lab on Monday, see if we could get a project out of it," Clark suggested.

Vin grinned in agreement.

"Wonderful for you two. What shall we do?" Ezra asked Chris. "Your notion of retiring to the Talon for a warm drink and some congenial company is sounding better and better. It's chilly out here."

"Five minutes. If we haven't found anything in five minutes, we head back to town," Chris said.

Vin got out some paper so he could make a rubbing of Daniel and Sarah Heyes' tombstone. By the time he had shown Clark how to do it, and they had made rubbings of all the Heyes and Curry tombstones, Chris and Ezra had decided on a topic.

"Every Civil War veteran is from the Kansas 13th Infantry. We'll do them," Chris announced.


Vin stepped into the computer lab and looked around. About half his social studies class was already there. He spotted Clark, seated at one of the computers. Vin walked over and plunked himself down in the empty seat beside him.

"Hi." Clark smiled a greeting.

"Hey. I ain't much good at computers, 'cept for playing games," Vin confessed. "Where do we start?"

"You said you saw Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry on the History Channel, didn't you?"

Vin nodded. "On Wild West Tech."

"Let's start there." Clark typed in HistoryChannel . Com.

"I hate to interrupt those of you who have already started, but may I have your attention for just a moment, please?" Mrs. Vernage called. "Today you're beginning your preliminary research. Not everything you find today will be useful. When you're taking notes – I hope everyone brought pencil and paper? – write down the URL. If it contains information you use in your report, then you'll need to cite it in your bibliography. It'll also save you a lot of time and trouble if you know which website you want to get back to later, instead of having to start another websearch from scratch. When you take notes, don't write down everything. You'll kill your hand. Only jot down the most important facts."

"Can't we just print it out?" Chloe Sullivan asked.

"Not today. At this point, you're winnowing the wheat from the chaff. The printers stay off today, or we'll waste too much paper."

"But Nathan and I already have our topic," Chloe protested.

"You do. Others don't. No printing today. Two more reasons for taking notes instead of printing. One, note-taking is a valuable skill to develop, and practice is the only way to develop it. Two, I want you to synthesize and interpret the data you find, not just regurgitate it back to me. I especially do not you to cut and paste information from some webpage into your report." Mrs. Vernage frowned. "Plagiarism is the first and worst of the Seven Deadly Sins. If I find out that you stole someone else's words and ideas for your report, I will be very unhappy. Principal Reynolds will be very unhappy. Your parents will be very unhappy. And you, you will be in too much trouble to worry about whether you're happy or unhappy. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Crystal."

"Yes, Mrs. Vernage."

In a gentler tone, she continued, "If you have questions, don't be shy about asking. Just remember, there's thirty of you and only one of me. Be patient." She began to walk around the room. "Playing Everquest does not count as research. Try ask . com instead."

It took a few minutes, but Clark finally found Heyes and Curry. "Here we are. Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, leaders of the Devil's Hole Gang. Known as the Robin Hoods of the West. Robbed dozens of banks and trains in Wyoming and Colorado in the 1870s and 1880s."

"Look at that." Vin pointed to the screen and read slowly. "In all the banks and trains they robbed, Heyes and Curry never shot anyone. This made them very … "

"Popular," Clark said.

" … popular with everyone except the banks and the railroads," Vin finished.

"But how do we prove that Heyes and Curry were related to the people in the cemetery?" Clark asked.

Vin thought a minute. "Census records."

"What?"

"Government takes a census every ten years. Them folks died in 1863. Check the 1860 census."

"Would it be on the 'Net?"

"Don't know. Aunt Ethel used to go to the university library and look at the microfilm." Vin gave the matter a minute's consideration. "Is there a Mormon church in town?"

"No, but there's one in Granville. Why?" Clark asked.

"Mormons got real good genealogy records. Aunt Ethel said it had something to do with their religion, baptizing folks posthumously, and wanting to make sure they baptized their ancestors instead of strangers. The church in Granville, they might have microfilm we could check."

"Granville's a lot closer than Metropolis," Clark agreed. He could run to Metropolis after school in a matter of minutes, but he couldn't very well tell Vin that. "The Mormon church in Granville has a website. And according to their website, they have a Family History Center next door to the church."

"Does it give their hours?"


"Apparently no one condescended to inform the weatherman that it is still autumn." Ezra shivered in his leather jacket, and glanced enviously at Buck's sheepskin coat. Whilst nowhere near as stylish as his, it was certainly warmer. He stepped carefully as he walked to the Talon with Chris, Buck, and Vin. The temperature had dropped below freezing the night before, turning Wednesday's hail and sleet into Thursday's icy roads and sidewalks.

"That's Kansas weather for you, Ez," Vin said. "Get used to it."

Ezra merely scowled. His most recent stepfather was a Luthorcorp executive; neither he nor his mother had been happy when her current husband was transferred to the Smallville fertilizer factory.

Vin saw Clark across the street, and guessed that he, too, was on his way to the Talon for the usual Thursday study session before Friday's tests and quizzes. He lifted his hand to wave.

Suddenly a car skidded on an icy patch on the road.

"Look out!" Buck yelled. The four teenagers jumped back.

The blue Ford hit a telephone pole, knocking it down.

One minute Clark had been across the street. The next he was twenty feet away from them, stopping the telephone pole from falling on top of poor half-blind Mrs. Hansen. Then he was gone.

Vin raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Ever since he, Chris, Josiah, Ezra, JD, Buck, and Nathan went skinny-dipping in that pond with the shiny green meteorites, he hadn't been quite ordinary himself.

None of the seven of them had.

Five minutes later, Clark showed up at the Talon. Vin called out a greeting. "Hey, Clark!"

"Hi. We still on for that trip to Granville on Saturday?"

Vin nodded. "Chris 'n' Ezra are workin' on their report." The two sat at a table, huddled over Ezra's laptop. "Any chance of you giving me a hand with my math?"

"Sure." Clark sat down next to Vin.

Chris raised a blond eyebrow. Vin had never asked for help with his homework from anyone but him before, never confessed his academic difficulties to anyone but him before.


"Sheesh, and I thought my handwriting was bad. Why didn't the census taker use a typewriter?" Vin complained, "I can barely read this."

"I'm not sure typewriters were invented yet," Clark replied.

"Would it have killed 'em to put it in alphabetical order?"

Clark wanted to go faster, but he couldn't rush through at super-speed in front of Vin. Not to mention the fact the curator would kill him if they thought he was playing with the microfilm, going faster than the machine could handle.

"Wait, here it is: Daniel Heyes, 34, male, farmer, born in Missouri. Sarah Heyes, 31, female, born in Kentucky. William, 11, male, born in Missouri, Hannibal, 9, male, born in Missouri."

"We found it! It's him!" Vin exclaimed.

The other researchers turned their heads, smiled, and went back to work. Every genealogist had had a eureka moment, and they were tolerant when someone else yelled 'bingo' in a place that was normally as quiet as a library.

"Let's print this page," Clark suggested.

Ten minutes later, they found the Currys. Jedediah Curry – whom history would record as Kid Curry – was five when the census was taken, born in Kansas. The names of the other Curry children matched those buried next to Jesse and Naomi Curry.{1}

"We got 'em, Clark. We got 'em."


"Nathan, Chloe, very nice oral report on the Underground Railroad. I look forward to reading your essay. Who's next?" Mrs. Vernage asked. "Any brave volunteers, or should I pick someone?"

"Let's get it over with," Vin muttered. Clark nodded, and they raised their hands.

"Clark, Vin," Mrs. Vernage invited them to the front of the room.

"Our report's on Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry," Vin announced. "They was – they were outlaws."

"Heyes and Curry were leaders of a gang of bank and train robbers called the Devil's Hole Gang," Clark added.

"They grew up near Smallville. Kid Curry was born here, and Heyes moved here when he wasn't much more than a baby. Their families were killed by Quantrill's Raiders in 1863," Vin explained.

"Apparently, they were the sole survivors of the raid. They disappeared from the records from 1863 until 1875, when they took to robbing banks and trains."

"For five years, they were two of the most wanted men in the west," Vin said. "Infamous robbers – Heyes was supposed to be a criminal mastermind, and Curry was famous as one of the fastest draws around. He was such a good shot that he didn't have to kill anyone. Matter of fact, neither Hannibal Heyes nor Kid Curry ever killed anyone. They had a twenty thousand dollar bounty on their heads, but it was just for robbery, not for murder. That was a lot of money, back when the average cowboy in the Old West earned two to three hundred dollars in a year."

"From 1875 to 1880, they led the Devil's Hole Gang. They stole over a million dollars. Some reports said Heyes was the leader; some said Heyes and Curry both led the gang," Clark explained. "The last robbery attributed to them was in 1880."

"After that … they just disappear, as if they rode off into the sunset like in an old western movie." Vin took a deep breath. "There's no record of their being captured or killed. As far as everything we seen or read can tell, they just vanished from the pages of history."

Mrs. Vernage waited to see if they had anything else to say. She checked her watch. Two and a half minutes – they'd met the minimum requirements. "Thank you, Clark, Vin. Who's next? I need some volunteers, or else I'll choose someone."

"We'll go." Josiah raised his hand.


"Sorry to have taken so long grading these. You put a lot of time and work into these reports, and I wanted to give them the attention they deserved." Mrs. Vernage walked up and down the rows, passing back essays and 3x5 cards.

"What's this?" JD Dunne held up th card.

"Your grade. I refused to utilize Solomon's solution in returning the projects; you and your partner can decide later who gets custody of the paper. You might want to put it in your senior portfolio. I was very pleased that most of you remembered what I said about plagiarism and not 'borrowing' data from the 'Net wholesale. Those of you who forgot, you are the ones with the big fat red Fs on your cards. You are also the ones who are seeing me after school today."

Vin took the card she handed him nervously. He took a deep breath, then turned it over. A. Excellent use of resources. "Clark," he whispered. "We got an A. I ain't never got an A before in my whole life."

Mrs. Vernage handed Clark an identical white card. He read it proudly, then glanced at Vin in confusion. "Uh, Mrs. Vernage, you didn't give us our paper back." One of them should have gotten the essay.

"Neither did we," Buck said.

The teacher smiled. "A few people are not receiving their papers at this time. Two are the people who are seeing Dr. Reynolds and me after school. The other six are the students who did the three projects that I'm submitting to the county history fair. Please open your books to page 342."

Vin and Clark exchanged thumbs up, both grinning widely.


Historical note: On August 21, 1863, William Quantrill and his raiders attacked Lawrence, Kansas, killing 150 civilians. The first practical typewriter was invented in 1867.

Author's Note: If you check out the same story at AO3, you'll find mock census entries for the Heyes and Curry families. This website wouldn't let me put it up.

{1} 1860 Census for Lawrence, KS only gives state (or country, for foreign-born), not town where born.