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Our "90 in 90 Essay Project Academic Studies"  on subjects such as the Federalist Papers, the Constitution; the Amendments; the Classics that Inspired the Constitution, the Executive Branch, the country's past 57 presidential elections, the Supreme Court, the Congress and the states have resulted in over 3,000 essays contributed by over 200 constitutional scholars, historians and elected officials. 

This corresponding Podcast features the reading of the daily essay during our 90-Day Study. Our essays have been listened to millions of times. Essays are available at ConstitutingAmerica.org and are archived, searchable and downloadable.

Our "90 in 90 Essay Project Academic Studies" on subjects such as the Federalist Papers, the Constitution; the Amendments; the Classics that Inspired the Constitution, the Executive Branch, the country's past 57 presidential elections, the Supreme Court, the Congress and the states have resulted in over 3,000 essays contributed by over 200 constitutional scholars, historians and elected officials. This corresponding Podcast features the reading of the daily essay during our 90-Day Study. Our essays have been listened to millions of times. Essays are available at ConstitutingAmerica.org and are archived, searchable and downloadable.

Annual 90-Day Study by Constituting America

As the library asks, "What do you geek?" I geek science fiction, fantasy, the outdoors, critical race theory, politics, organizing, among other things. Mostly, I geek history. So I've tied all that together into one podcast. Change Over Time is a podcast using historical thinking to explore geekiness. Sometimes I’ll be reporting from the field. Other times I’ll explore how different ideas, theories, or methods used by historians can be used by non-historians. I’ll also release edited pieces of oral histories I’ve done with interesting people. Sign up for the Alternative Historian newsletter to keep up to date.

Change Over Time

Deep thoughts fermented over time and text.

Bible over Brews

From the first women's history lending library in the United States...This adult-centered podcast features a round-table discussion where each guest picks a rebellious woman of history relating to our topic of the month. The Gals Pals do get pretty drunk and the show is a lot of fun!

From the first women's history lending library in the United States...This adult-centered podcast features a round-table discussion where each guest picks a rebellious woman of history relating to our topic of the month. The Gals Pals do get pretty drunk and the show is a lot of fun!

From the first women's history lending library in the United States...This adult-centered podcast features a round-table discussion where each guest picks a rebellious woman of history relating to our topic of the month. The Gals Pals do get pretty drunk and the show is a lot of fun!

Gals Guide

Podcast – Bethel Revival Church Bible Study

When April Balascio was 40 years old, something she’d feared for decades was finally proven true. Her father, Edward Wayne Edwards, really was a murderer. The Clearing is about what came after April called a detective in 2009 to tell him about her suspicions — a call that led to her father’s arrest and eventual conviction on multiple murders — and tracks the emotional journey as she and host Josh Dean dig back into her childhood, unravel the truth of her father’s life, and overturn a viral online narrative that had turned Edward Wayne Edwards into a kind of serial killer caricature. Produced by Pineapple Street Studios in association with Gimlet.

The Clearing

Mystery In Our History is a podcast hosted by JR & Chris where we take an in-depth look at all things Urban Legend and Conspiracy Theory related and how they came to be. Part of the 4 Guys Media Network, our aim is to produce content to entertain the masses. Follow us on Instagram @4guysmedia and the hashtag #miohpod. If you have any Urban Legends or Conspiracy Theories you want us to cover you can leave a comment on our YouTube channel 4 Guys Media Network, or email us at 4guysmedianetwork@gmail.com.

Mystery In Our History is a podcast hosted by JR &amp; Chris where we take an in-depth look at all things Urban Legend and Conspiracy Theory related and how they came to be. Part of the 4 Guys Media Network, our aim is to produce content to entertain the masses. Follow us on Instagram @4guysmedia and the hashtag #miohpod. If you have any Urban Legends or Conspiracy Theories you want us to cover you can leave a comment on our YouTube channel 4 Guys Media Network, or email us at 4guysmedianetwork@gmail.com.

Mystery In Our History Podcast

هذا البودكاست هو مبادرة تثقيفية إعلامية من مؤسسة أناسي للإنتاج الإعلامي
يهدف لإثراء المحتوى الإعلامي العربي على الإنترنيت
ويسلط الضوء على قيم أصيلة من تراثنا العربي الخالد في شكل محاورات درامية متميزة
قصص منتقاة من التراث العربي من إعداد وتقديم : ذكرى والي
 ويشارك فيها درامياً الفنانون: أنور العياشي، سندس حمو، محمد جريجي و حسونة الناجي 
This podcast is an educational cultural initiative by Anasy Media, with the aim of enriching the content of the middle eastern history in media, highlighting the authentic values of our eternal Arabian and global heritage in the form of distinguished stories with theatrical dramatized dialogues
Writing by: Dhekra Ouali, with Sawsan, Anwar & Mohamed.

هذا البودكاست هو مبادرة تثقيفية إعلامية من مؤسسة أناسي للإنتاج الإعلامي يهدف لإثراء المحتوى الإعلامي العربي على الإنترنيت ويسلط الضوء على قيم أصيلة من تراثنا العربي الخالد في شكل محاورات درامية متميزة قصص منتقاة من التراث العربي من إعداد وتقديم : ذكرى والي ويشارك فيها درامياً الفنانون: أنور العياشي، سندس حمو، محمد جريجي و حسونة الناجي This podcast is an educational cultural initiative by Anasy Media, with the aim of enriching the content of the middle eastern history in media, highlighting the authentic values of our eternal Arabian and global heritage in the form of distinguished stories with theatrical dramatized dialogues Writing by: Dhekra Ouali, with Sawsan, Anwar & Mohamed.

هذا البودكاست هو مبادرة تثقيفية إعلامية من مؤسسة أناسي للإنتاج الإعلامي
يهدف لإثراء المحتوى الإعلامي العربي على الإنترنيت
ويسلط الضوء على قيم أصيلة من تراثنا العربي الخالد في شكل محاورات درامية متميزة
قصص منتقاة من التراث العربي من إعداد وتقديم : ذكرى والي
 ويشارك فيها درامياً الفنانون: أنور العياشي، سندس حمو، محمد جريجي و حسونة الناجي 
This podcast is an educational cultural initiative by Anasy Media, with the aim of enriching the content of the middle eastern history in media, highlighting the authentic values of our eternal Arabian and global heritage in the form of distinguished stories with theatrical dramatized dialogues
Writing by: Dhekra Ouali, with Sawsan, Anwar &amp; Mohamed.

Mrowa

Join Authors Holly-Eloise Walters, Kathi Morehead and self taught historian Amy Logan as they talk all things history. They dive into the figures from long ago that we all know and love. This is a fresh take with lots of humour and interesting opinions rolled in.

Three History Nymphs

A podcast about mythology from around the world, the history of....well anything, and of course all things Dungeons and Dragons. 
If you have any ideas or topics you'd like for me to explore or elaborate on feel free to send me an e-mail mythshistorydnd@gmail.com

A podcast about mythology from around the world, the history of....well anything, and of course all things Dungeons and Dragons. If you have any ideas or topics you'd like for me to explore or elaborate on feel free to send me an e-mail mythshistorydnd@gmail.com

Myths, History, and DnD

Добро Пожаловать на «Садовую 36». Здесь мы рассказываем и обсуждаем интересные истории, по которым в принципе можно было бы снимать крутые фильмы или сериалы. Но мы их не снимаем, а пишем классный подкаст. 
Если вам нравится наше шоу, вы можете поделиться им со своими друзьями или поддержать нас на Патреоне: www.patreon.com/Hans_Avichy. Патроны «Садовой, 36» получают ранний доступ к эпизодам, интересное послешоу и возможность прямой связи с нами в комментариях. Мы благодарны вам за поддержку и обещаем не остаться в долгу. 
Приятного прослушивания!

Добро Пожаловать на «Садовую 36». Здесь мы рассказываем и обсуждаем интересные истории, по которым в принципе можно было бы снимать крутые фильмы или сериалы. Но мы их не снимаем, а пишем классный подкаст. Если вам нравится наше шоу, вы можете поделиться им со своими друзьями или поддержать нас на Патреоне: www.patreon.com/Hans_Avichy. Патроны «Садовой, 36» получают ранний доступ к эпизодам, интересное послешоу и возможность прямой связи с нами в комментариях. Мы благодарны вам за поддержку и обещаем не остаться в долгу. Приятного прослушивания!

Садовая, 36

The Seminole Wars Authority podcast looks at Seminole resistance to the United States’ campaign of Indian removal in the 1800s. We explore what the Seminole Wars were, how they came to be, how they were fought, and how they still resonate some two centuries later. We talk with historians, archaeologists, anthropologists, archivists, writers, novelists, artists, musicians, exhibitors, craftsmen, educations, park rangers, military-era reenactors, living historians, and, to the descendants of the Florida and Oklahoma Seminole who fought tenaciously to avoid US government forced removal. Host Patrick Swan is a board member with the Seminole Wars Foundation. This podcast is recorded at the homestead of the Seminole Wars Foundation -- www.seminolewars.us -- in Bushnell, Fla. Subscribe automatically to the Seminole Wars Authority through your favorite podcast catcher.  (Banner photo by Andrew Foster)

The Seminole Wars Authority podcast looks at Seminole resistance to the United States’ campaign of Indian removal in the 1800s. We explore what the Seminole Wars were, how they came to be, how they were fought, and how they still resonate some two centuries later. We talk with historians, archaeologists, anthropologists, archivists, writers, novelists, artists, musicians, exhibitors, craftsmen, educations, park rangers, military-era reenactors, living historians, and, to the descendants of the Florida and Oklahoma Seminole who fought tenaciously to avoid US government forced removal. Host Patrick Swan is a board member with the Seminole Wars Foundation. This podcast is recorded at the homestead of the Seminole Wars Foundation -- www.seminolewars.us -- in Bushnell, Fla. Subscribe automatically to the Seminole Wars Authority through your favorite podcast catcher. (Banner photo by Andrew Foster)

Seminole Wars Authority

Rising from the ashes of Wilderness of Horrors, ATTACK OF THE PODCAST is born! Big Al and Mike have reunited to explore the mysteries of the Universe!

Attack of the Podcast!

Northern Fire is an artistic collective specialising in Celtic and Nordic art. We pride ourselves on taking influence from the archaeological record and through our research, we have met some very interesting people. 

We will be talking amongst ourselves (to date, we have 10 artists on board) and also to experts in their field about ancient history in Northern Europe. 

Expect new information, different perspectives as well as storytelling and song throughout our episodes.

Northern Fire is an artistic collective specialising in Celtic and Nordic art. We pride ourselves on taking influence from the archaeological record and through our research, we have met some very interesting people. We will be talking amongst ourselves (to date, we have 10 artists on board) and also to experts in their field about ancient history in Northern Europe. Expect new information, different perspectives as well as storytelling and song throughout our episodes.

The Northern Fire History Podcast

A lo largo de la historia grandes acontecimientos han ocurrido, inventos que dejaron huella para siempre, personas que hicieron cosas extraordinarias y quedaron en la posteridad, Pero una de las cosas mas recordadas por la humanidad, son las guerras. En Expedientes Bélicos te narramos historias de personas que hicieron cosas increíbles durante las guerras. <hr> Hosted on Acast. See <a style='color:grey;' target='_blank' rel='noopener noreferrer' href='https://acast.com/privacy'>acast.com/privacy</a> for more information.

A lo largo de la historia grandes acontecimientos han ocurrido, inventos que dejaron huella para siempre, personas que hicieron cosas extraordinarias y quedaron en la posteridad, Pero una de las cosas mas recordadas por la humanidad, son las guerras. En Expedientes Bélicos te narramos historias de personas que hicieron cosas increíbles durante las guerras. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

A lo largo de la historia grandes acontecimientos han ocurrido, inventos que dejaron huella para siempre, personas que hicieron cosas extraordinarias y quedaron en la posteridad, Pero una de las cosas mas recordadas por la humanidad, son las guerras. En Expedientes Bélicos te narramos historias de personas que hicieron cosas increíbles durante las guerras. Hosted on Acast. See <a href="https://acast.com/privacy" rel="noopener noreferrer">acast.com/privacy</a> for more information.

Expedientes Belicos

This is not your regular history lesson. BAPS Productions and Clash Productions present Hall Pass: The Podcast. Our host Jamal Andress sits down with industry experts and historians to discuss parts of our history that might not have made it into your textbooks. Class is officially in session.

Hall Pass: The Podcast

We offer an entertaining look at some of the big issues in history by examining public apologies of the famous and infamous.  We’re looking at politicians, serial killers, actors, and you!  Send us an apology you would like to make and we’ll read it on the podcast and give you the chance to redeem yourself or just get some guilt off your shoulders.  We’re here for you, once a week, maybe more if you are really, really sorry.

We offer an entertaining look at some of the big issues in history by examining public apologies of the famous and infamous. We’re looking at politicians, serial killers, actors, and you! Send us an apology you would like to make and we’ll read it on the podcast and give you the chance to redeem yourself or just get some guilt off your shoulders. We’re here for you, once a week, maybe more if you are really, really sorry.

Apologies Accepted

Do you like history? Do you like true crime? Do you like….women??? We thought so. Join us as we dive deep into the most infamous women of history across the globe. Interested yet? Check out Lawless Women of History: Crime has No Gender, why let men have all the fun?Follow us @LawlessTC on Twitter, Lawless Women of History on Facebook, and Lawless.TC on Instagram

Lawless Women of History

A tobacco farmer murders his six children and wife then turns the gun on himself. What drove him to such madness? A 19-year-old murder mystery, someone executed Michael and Mary Short then kidnapped their 9-year-old daughter, only to later kill her too. So who killed Jennifer Short? A newborn baby left in the November cold under an apartment building stairwell. Who would do such a thing, and who rescued her? FOX8 digs deeper into these true crimes, some solved but others still leaving investigators in the dark.

A tobacco farmer murders his six children and wife then turns the gun on himself. What drove him to such madness? A 19-year-old murder mystery, someone executed Michael and Mary Short then kidnapped their 9-year-old daughter, only to later kill her too. So who killed Jennifer Short? A newborn baby left in the November cold under an apartment building stairwell. Who would do such a thing, and who rescued her? FOX8 digs deeper into these true crimes, some solved but others still leaving investigators in the dark.

True Crime, NC

Started by L.A. based painter Sandy Rodriguez and Poet/Journalist Adolfo Guzman Lopez, Project 1521 has gathered 10 poets and artists to reflect on the 500 years since the fall of the Aztec Empire. This podcast will give you an insight into the work of modern day Tlacuilos and the publication of their work.  Donate at https://www.gofundme.com/f/project1521

Started by L.A. based painter Sandy Rodriguez and Poet/Journalist Adolfo Guzman Lopez, Project 1521 has gathered 10 poets and artists to reflect on the 500 years since the fall of the Aztec Empire. This podcast will give you an insight into the work of modern day Tlacuilos and the publication of their work. Donate at https://www.gofundme.com/f/project1521

Project 1521 Podcast

Playing with the Past is a podcast that takes a look at the history in games.

Playing With The Past

We'll meet historians, archaeologists and curators who are experts in their field and hear about the lives of people who have made history their jobs, learn fascinating facts about the past, and go on a journey through world history.

We'll meet historians, archaeologists and curators who are experts in their field and hear about the lives of people who have made history their jobs, learn fascinating facts about the past, and go on a journey through world history.

We'll meet historians, archaeologists and curators who are experts in their field&nbsp;and&nbsp;hear about the lives of people who have made history their jobs, learn fascinating facts about the past, and go on a journey through world history.

Experts on History

Join us as we explore the world of Greek classics and philosophy, and their relevance to modern life. Episodes published bi-weekly, featuring interviews with renowned authors and academics in the fields of philosophy and classics. Show hosted by Plato's Academy Centre, a nonprofit organization based in Athens, Greece. <a href="https://platosacademycentre.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast">platosacademycentre.substack.com</a>

Join us as we explore the world of Greek classics and philosophy, and their relevance to modern life. Episodes published bi-weekly, featuring interviews with renowned authors and academics in the fields of philosophy and classics. Show hosted by Plato's Academy Centre, a nonprofit organization based in Athens, Greece. platosacademycentre.substack.com

Join us as we explore the world of Greek classics and philosophy, and their relevance to modern life. Episodes published bi-weekly, featuring interviews with renowned authors and academics in the fields of philosophy and classics. Show hosted by Plato's Academy Centre, a nonprofit organization based in Athens, Greece. <a href="https://platosacademycentre.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast" rel="noopener noreferrer">platosacademycentre.substack.com</a>

Philosophy and Classics

Kelimenin Ham Anlamıyla siz kıymetli dinleyenlerimize ortamlarda satmalık çil çil kelimeler, ışıl ışıl etimolojik hikayeler vaat ediyoruz. Bendeniz Ali İhsan İhsan Varol, Podbee Media ile hazırladığımız podcast serimize hoşgeldiniz!

Kelimenin Ham Anlamıyla

Exploring the history of European and Native American contacts - 1003 to 1890. A new podcast and other web-based materials, based upon the product of your humble author's research of actual historians, archeologists, anthropologists, geneticists, and others.  Some of this stuff comes from legends, oral histories of Native and European civilizations, scientific analysis of genetic populations, anthropological and archeological references, written history and of course our own speculation as to human nature, common sense and our experience.  All of this in context, we hope.

Exploring the history of European and Native American contacts - 1003 to 1890. A new podcast and other web-based materials, based upon the product of your humble author's research of actual historians, archeologists, anthropologists, geneticists, and others. Some of this stuff comes from legends, oral histories of Native and European civilizations, scientific analysis of genetic populations, anthropological and archeological references, written history and of course our own speculation as to human nature, common sense and our experience. All of this in context, we hope.

Exploring the history of European and Native American contacts - 1003 to 1890. A new podcast and other web-based materials, based upon&nbsp;the product of your humble author's research of actual historians, archeologists, anthropologists, geneticists, and others.&nbsp; Some of this stuff comes from legends, oral histories of Native and European civilizations, scientific analysis of genetic populations, anthropological and archeological references, written history and of course our own speculation as to human nature, common sense and our experience. &nbsp;All of this in context, we hope.

The Native American Wars Podcast

פרויקט 'צמאה' מגיש ניגונים חסידיים עתיקים בחליפה ישראלית ובביצוע של מיטב אמני ישראל.
בכל פרק ב'הללו' נצלול לסיפור שמאחורי הניגון, להיסטוריה ולדמויות דרך הזווית של אמני 'צמאה' ואורחים נוספים.

פרויקט 'צמאה' מגיש ניגונים חסידיים עתיקים בחליפה ישראלית ובביצוע של מיטב אמני ישראל. בכל פרק ב'הללו' נצלול לסיפור שמאחורי הניגון, להיסטוריה ולדמויות דרך הזווית של אמני 'צמאה' ואורחים נוספים.

הללו - פודקאסט הניגונים של צמאה

Part 1: Into the Depths The Behemoth on the Water The Edmund Fitzgerald was a ship that defied the imagination, a steel leviathan of staggering proportions. At 729 feet long and weighing 13,632 tons, it dwarfed every other vessel on the Great Lakes, a behemoth that could haul more than 26,000 tons of iron ore in a single load. When she launched in 1958, she was the largest ship the Great Lakes had ever seen. Locals marveled at her size and whispered that she was unsinkable, a king among commoners. But there was always something unnerving about her sheer scale. She had an imposing presence, a dark silhouette that, to the superstitious, was as much a harbinger as a triumph. The Fitzgerald was a revered workhorse, captained by seasoned sailor Ernest McSorley, a man who had seen his share of storms, who had heard the old-timers’ tales of ships that had vanished without a trace. But those were stories for land-dwellers, he’d always thought, tales to scare the young and cautious. McSorley was unflinching. He had spent years on Superior, and the lake was no stranger to him. He trusted his ship, though he knew her quirks and the way she bucked in rough water, her great steel hull vibrating with a life all its own. On November 9, 1975, she slipped out of Superior, Wisconsin, her hull loaded with taconite pellets destined for Detroit. The water was smooth, almost too smooth, as the vessel cut across the lake. To those watching from the shore, she seemed to glide like a ghost, her great shape silhouetted against a sky darkening in the early evening. But something was…off. The air was heavy, thick with a quiet that felt unnatural, as though Lake Superior herself was holding her breath. Fishermen along the shore glanced at one another, the hairs on their necks standing up as they watched the Fitzgerald pass. They’d heard the stories too, knew that Lake Superior was no ordinary lake. They had seen what she did to those who didn’t respect her. They called her the "Graveyard of the Great Lakes," a place where ships went down and didn’t come back up. The Fitzgerald was a giant, yes, but even giants were nothing more than toys in the grip of the lake. The crew, hardened men of grit and muscle, paid the silence little mind as they readied the ship. They shared jokes and stories, stowed away personal items, checked the ship’s systems, and prepared for what they thought was an ordinary trip. But even some of them couldn’t ignore a creeping feeling of unease. Lake Superior was silent—too silent—and they were left with only the rumble of the engines and the hollow clang of metal against metal. Captain McSorley felt it too. Standing on the bridge, looking out over the water, he sensed something he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t fear; McSorley was a practical man, not one to be swayed by ghost stories. But there was something—just a whisper at the back of his mind, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. The lake was watching, he thought, but pushed the idea away, dismissing it as foolishness. He had a ship to run. The Gathering Storm By dawn on November 10, the wind had begun to rise, a low moan that swept across the water, growing in strength and carrying with it the scent of ice and steel. The Fitzgerald pressed on, cutting through choppy waves as the storm gathered in the distance. McSorley, a man of few words and calm conviction, kept his crew working with quiet nods and steady glances, his demeanor unshaken by the ominous clouds rolling toward them. As the hours passed, the wind howled, and the waves grew. By noon, the lake had turned into a writhing monster, each wave crashing over the bow with a force that seemed almost vengeful. The steel walls of the ship echoed with each impact, groaning under the weight of the lake’s rage. Men on deck were drenched, their clothes sticking to their skin as they battled to keep the ship balanced, each impact of the waves sending them stumbling, reaching out for anything to hold onto. Inside, the ship was alive with sound—the groan of metal, the echo of footsteps, the rattle of unsecured objects sliding and clattering with each violent roll. Every man aboard felt it, the creeping realization that they were up against something far beyond their control. Some muttered quietly to themselves, cursing the storm, while others simply worked in grim silence, their eyes wide with focus, their hands shaking from the cold and the strain. Captain McSorley ordered the crew to batten down every hatch, secure every item, and prepare for the worst. This was a lake storm, not one of the ocean’s hurricanes, but it had the strength of both. The crew moved with the speed and efficiency of seasoned sailors, working to brace the ship against whatever lay ahead. By now, the waves were 20 feet high, slamming into the Fitzgerald with the ferocity of a battering ram. Yet the crew, exhausted and bruised, held to their routines, trusting in the ship’s massive bulk to carry them through. But even McSorley felt the unease. The Arthur M. Anderson, trailing not far behind, had been in constant communication, the two captains trading words of encouragement and advice. Captain Bernie Cooper of the Anderson could see the Fitzgerald in the distance, her silhouette black against the angry waves. He watched, his stomach tightening as he saw her ride up one wave, only to slam down the other side with a force that sent water crashing over her bow. McSorley’s voice cracked over the radio, calm yet strained. “We’re holding our own,” he said, but Cooper could hear the weight in his tone, a man who was pushing against forces he could not fully grasp. In the minutes that followed, the storm intensified, growing darker and more violent. The radar on the Fitzgerald sputtered and failed, leaving them blind in the black waters, reliant only on McSorley’s experience and the messages relayed from the Anderson. The men moved like ghosts, shadows cast by the dim emergency lights that flickered against the steel walls. Water dripped from the ceilings, and somewhere deep in the hull, a steady thump-thump of the waves against the weakened seams echoed like a heartbeat, an ominous rhythm that signaled the beginning of the end. Descent into Darkness Night had fallen, bringing with it a darkness so complete it swallowed everything. The only light was the occasional flash of lightning, casting the ship in stark relief, illuminating the fear-stricken faces of the men as they clung to whatever they could. Outside, the lake was a heaving mass of black water, each wave rising like a hand reaching for the Fitzgerald, determined to drag her down. Captain McSorley stood at the helm, his jaw set, his hands gripping the wheel with white-knuckled intensity. He had faced storms before, but nothing like this. This was no ordinary storm. This was the lake herself, risen in fury, come to claim what was hers. The walls of the Fitzgerald shook with each impact, the entire ship groaning under the relentless assault of water and wind. The pumps were working overtime, trying to keep the water from flooding the holds, but it was a losing battle. As the minutes passed, McSorley felt the dread growing, a cold knot in his stomach that he couldn’t shake. The ship was listing now, tilting ever so slightly to one side, a sure sign that water was seeping in faster than they could pump it out. He knew what that meant. They all did. Yet he kept his voice steady as he spoke into the radio, the words forced, a grim mantra. “We’re holding our own.” The crew worked like men possessed, hands raw and bleeding from gripping ropes and railings, faces numb from the cold spray that soaked them to the bone. They were fighting a losing battle, and they knew it, but none of them would admit it, not out loud. They moved with a grim determination, a refusal to yield to the lake’s wrath, even as their bodies screamed for rest. And then it happened. Out of the darkness, a wave rose, higher and more fearsome than any before it. It towered over the Fitzgerald, a mountain of water that seemed to hang in the air for an eternity before crashing down with a force that defied belief. The ship lurched, the bow plunging beneath the water, and for a moment, the crew thought she might right herself, that she might push back against the lake’s fury. But the lake had made her choice. The water poured in, filling the holds, dragging the ship down inch by inch. There was no alarm, no cry for help, just a heavy silence as the Fitzgerald began her descent, swallowed whole by the black waters of Lake Superior. The Final Minutes The last radio message went out at 7:10 p.m., a final, hollow reassurance from McSorley: “We are holding our own.” And then, silence. On the Arthur M. Anderson, Captain Cooper watched in horror as the Fitzgerald’s radar blip flickered, wavered, and then disappeared. He scanned the horizon, his heart pounding, hoping to see a flare, a light, anything. But the lake offered no such mercy. The Fitzgerald was gone, swallowed without a trace, leaving only the endless, rolling waves in her wake. For hours, the Anderson searched, hoping against hope to find survivors, to see a life raft, a bobbing light on the water. But there was nothing, just the darkness and the ceaseless roar of the lake. And as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Captain Cooper knew that the lake had claimed them all. In that silence, in that endless black water, the Edmund Fitzgerald became a legend, a ghost ship lost to the depths, her fate sealed by the wrath of Lake Superior. Part 2: The Fury Unleashed An Unnatural Storm As the Fitzgerald battled the lake’s fury, each man aboard began to understand what they were facing. This was no ordinary storm; this was something ancient, something primal. It felt as though the lake itself had awakened, rearing up to drag them under. The crew, seasoned men who had seen their share of storms, exchanged glances that betrayed their mounting dread. They knew that

Part 1: Into the Depths The Behemoth on the Water The Edmund Fitzgerald was a ship that defied the imagination, a steel leviathan of staggering proportions. At 729 feet long and weighing 13,632 tons, it dwarfed every other vessel on the Great Lakes, a behemoth that could haul more than 26,000 tons of iron ore in a single load. When she launched in 1958, she was the largest ship the Great Lakes had ever seen. Locals marveled at her size and whispered that she was unsinkable, a king among commoners. But there was always something unnerving about her sheer scale. She had an imposing presence, a dark silhouette that, to the superstitious, was as much a harbinger as a triumph. The Fitzgerald was a revered workhorse, captained by seasoned sailor Ernest McSorley, a man who had seen his share of storms, who had heard the old-timers’ tales of ships that had vanished without a trace. But those were stories for land-dwellers, he’d always thought, tales to scare the young and cautious. McSorley was unflinching. He had spent years on Superior, and the lake was no stranger to him. He trusted his ship, though he knew her quirks and the way she bucked in rough water, her great steel hull vibrating with a life all its own. On November 9, 1975, she slipped out of Superior, Wisconsin, her hull loaded with taconite pellets destined for Detroit. The water was smooth, almost too smooth, as the vessel cut across the lake. To those watching from the shore, she seemed to glide like a ghost, her great shape silhouetted against a sky darkening in the early evening. But something was…off. The air was heavy, thick with a quiet that felt unnatural, as though Lake Superior herself was holding her breath. Fishermen along the shore glanced at one another, the hairs on their necks standing up as they watched the Fitzgerald pass. They’d heard the stories too, knew that Lake Superior was no ordinary lake. They had seen what she did to those who didn’t respect her. They called her the "Graveyard of the Great Lakes," a place where ships went down and didn’t come back up. The Fitzgerald was a giant, yes, but even giants were nothing more than toys in the grip of the lake. The crew, hardened men of grit and muscle, paid the silence little mind as they readied the ship. They shared jokes and stories, stowed away personal items, checked the ship’s systems, and prepared for what they thought was an ordinary trip. But even some of them couldn’t ignore a creeping feeling of unease. Lake Superior was silent—too silent—and they were left with only the rumble of the engines and the hollow clang of metal against metal. Captain McSorley felt it too. Standing on the bridge, looking out over the water, he sensed something he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t fear; McSorley was a practical man, not one to be swayed by ghost stories. But there was something—just a whisper at the back of his mind, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. The lake was watching, he thought, but pushed the idea away, dismissing it as foolishness. He had a ship to run. The Gathering Storm By dawn on November 10, the wind had begun to rise, a low moan that swept across the water, growing in strength and carrying with it the scent of ice and steel. The Fitzgerald pressed on, cutting through choppy waves as the storm gathered in the distance. McSorley, a man of few words and calm conviction, kept his crew working with quiet nods and steady glances, his demeanor unshaken by the ominous clouds rolling toward them. As the hours passed, the wind howled, and the waves grew. By noon, the lake had turned into a writhing monster, each wave crashing over the bow with a force that seemed almost vengeful. The steel walls of the ship echoed with each impact, groaning under the weight of the lake’s rage. Men on deck were drenched, their clothes sticking to their skin as they battled to keep the ship balanced, each impact of the waves sending them stumbling, reaching out for anything to hold onto. Inside, the ship was alive with sound—the groan of metal, the echo of footsteps, the rattle of unsecured objects sliding and clattering with each violent roll. Every man aboard felt it, the creeping realization that they were up against something far beyond their control. Some muttered quietly to themselves, cursing the storm, while others simply worked in grim silence, their eyes wide with focus, their hands shaking from the cold and the strain. Captain McSorley ordered the crew to batten down every hatch, secure every item, and prepare for the worst. This was a lake storm, not one of the ocean’s hurricanes, but it had the strength of both. The crew moved with the speed and efficiency of seasoned sailors, working to brace the ship against whatever lay ahead. By now, the waves were 20 feet high, slamming into the Fitzgerald with the ferocity of a battering ram. Yet the crew, exhausted and bruised, held to their routines, trusting in the ship’s massive bulk to carry them through. But even McSorley felt the unease. The Arthur M. Anderson, trailing not far behind, had been in constant communication, the two captains trading words of encouragement and advice. Captain Bernie Cooper of the Anderson could see the Fitzgerald in the distance, her silhouette black against the angry waves. He watched, his stomach tightening as he saw her ride up one wave, only to slam down the other side with a force that sent water crashing over her bow. McSorley’s voice cracked over the radio, calm yet strained. “We’re holding our own,” he said, but Cooper could hear the weight in his tone, a man who was pushing against forces he could not fully grasp. In the minutes that followed, the storm intensified, growing darker and more violent. The radar on the Fitzgerald sputtered and failed, leaving them blind in the black waters, reliant only on McSorley’s experience and the messages relayed from the Anderson. The men moved like ghosts, shadows cast by the dim emergency lights that flickered against the steel walls. Water dripped from the ceilings, and somewhere deep in the hull, a steady thump-thump of the waves against the weakened seams echoed like a heartbeat, an ominous rhythm that signaled the beginning of the end. Descent into Darkness Night had fallen, bringing with it a darkness so complete it swallowed everything. The only light was the occasional flash of lightning, casting the ship in stark relief, illuminating the fear-stricken faces of the men as they clung to whatever they could. Outside, the lake was a heaving mass of black water, each wave rising like a hand reaching for the Fitzgerald, determined to drag her down. Captain McSorley stood at the helm, his jaw set, his hands gripping the wheel with white-knuckled intensity. He had faced storms before, but nothing like this. This was no ordinary storm. This was the lake herself, risen in fury, come to claim what was hers. The walls of the Fitzgerald shook with each impact, the entire ship groaning under the relentless assault of water and wind. The pumps were working overtime, trying to keep the water from flooding the holds, but it was a losing battle. As the minutes passed, McSorley felt the dread growing, a cold knot in his stomach that he couldn’t shake. The ship was listing now, tilting ever so slightly to one side, a sure sign that water was seeping in faster than they could pump it out. He knew what that meant. They all did. Yet he kept his voice steady as he spoke into the radio, the words forced, a grim mantra. “We’re holding our own.” The crew worked like men possessed, hands raw and bleeding from gripping ropes and railings, faces numb from the cold spray that soaked them to the bone. They were fighting a losing battle, and they knew it, but none of them would admit it, not out loud. They moved with a grim determination, a refusal to yield to the lake’s wrath, even as their bodies screamed for rest. And then it happened. Out of the darkness, a wave rose, higher and more fearsome than any before it. It towered over the Fitzgerald, a mountain of water that seemed to hang in the air for an eternity before crashing down with a force that defied belief. The ship lurched, the bow plunging beneath the water, and for a moment, the crew thought she might right herself, that she might push back against the lake’s fury. But the lake had made her choice. The water poured in, filling the holds, dragging the ship down inch by inch. There was no alarm, no cry for help, just a heavy silence as the Fitzgerald began her descent, swallowed whole by the black waters of Lake Superior. The Final Minutes The last radio message went out at 7:10 p.m., a final, hollow reassurance from McSorley: “We are holding our own.” And then, silence. On the Arthur M. Anderson, Captain Cooper watched in horror as the Fitzgerald’s radar blip flickered, wavered, and then disappeared. He scanned the horizon, his heart pounding, hoping to see a flare, a light, anything. But the lake offered no such mercy. The Fitzgerald was gone, swallowed without a trace, leaving only the endless, rolling waves in her wake. For hours, the Anderson searched, hoping against hope to find survivors, to see a life raft, a bobbing light on the water. But there was nothing, just the darkness and the ceaseless roar of the lake. And as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Captain Cooper knew that the lake had claimed them all. In that silence, in that endless black water, the Edmund Fitzgerald became a legend, a ghost ship lost to the depths, her fate sealed by the wrath of Lake Superior. Part 2: The Fury Unleashed An Unnatural Storm As the Fitzgerald battled the lake’s fury, each man aboard began to understand what they were facing. This was no ordinary storm; this was something ancient, something primal. It felt as though the lake itself had awakened, rearing up to drag them under. The crew, seasoned men who had seen their share of storms, exchanged glances that betrayed their mounting dread. They knew that

Part 1: Into the Depths The Behemoth on the Water The Edmund Fitzgerald was a ship that defied the imagination, a steel leviathan of staggering proportions. At 729 feet long and weighing 13,632 tons, it dwarfed every other vessel on the Great Lakes, a behemoth that could haul more than 26,000 tons of iron ore in a single load. When she launched in 1958, she was the largest ship the Great Lakes had ever seen. Locals marveled at her size and whispered that she was unsinkable, a king among commoners. But there was always something unnerving about her sheer scale. She had an imposing presence, a dark silhouette that, to the superstitious, was as much a harbinger as a triumph. The Fitzgerald was a revered workhorse, captained by seasoned sailor Ernest McSorley, a man who had seen his share of storms, who had heard the old-timers’ tales of ships that had vanished without a trace. But those were stories for land-dwellers, he’d always thought, tales to scare the young and cautious. McSorley was unflinching. He had spent years on Superior, and the lake was no stranger to him. He trusted his ship, though he knew her quirks and the way she bucked in rough water, her great steel hull vibrating with a life all its own. On November 9, 1975, she slipped out of Superior, Wisconsin, her hull loaded with taconite pellets destined for Detroit. The water was smooth, almost too smooth, as the vessel cut across the lake. To those watching from the shore, she seemed to glide like a ghost, her great shape silhouetted against a sky darkening in the early evening. But something was…off. The air was heavy, thick with a quiet that felt unnatural, as though Lake Superior herself was holding her breath. Fishermen along the shore glanced at one another, the hairs on their necks standing up as they watched the Fitzgerald pass. They’d heard the stories too, knew that Lake Superior was no ordinary lake. They had seen what she did to those who didn’t respect her. They called her the "Graveyard of the Great Lakes," a place where ships went down and didn’t come back up. The Fitzgerald was a giant, yes, but even giants were nothing more than toys in the grip of the lake. The crew, hardened men of grit and muscle, paid the silence little mind as they readied the ship. They shared jokes and stories, stowed away personal items, checked the ship’s systems, and prepared for what they thought was an ordinary trip. But even some of them couldn’t ignore a creeping feeling of unease. Lake Superior was silent—too silent—and they were left with only the rumble of the engines and the hollow clang of metal against metal. Captain McSorley felt it too. Standing on the bridge, looking out over the water, he sensed something he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t fear; McSorley was a practical man, not one to be swayed by ghost stories. But there was something—just a whisper at the back of his mind, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. The lake was watching, he thought, but pushed the idea away, dismissing it as foolishness. He had a ship to run. The Gathering Storm By dawn on November 10, the wind had begun to rise, a low moan that swept across the water, growing in strength and carrying with it the scent of ice and steel. The Fitzgerald pressed on, cutting through choppy waves as the storm gathered in the distance. McSorley, a man of few words and calm conviction, kept his crew working with quiet nods and steady glances, his demeanor unshaken by the ominous clouds rolling toward them. As the hours passed, the wind howled, and the waves grew. By noon, the lake had turned into a writhing monster, each wave crashing over the bow with a force that seemed almost vengeful. The steel walls of the ship echoed with each impact, groaning under the weight of the lake’s rage. Men on deck were drenched, their clothes sticking to their skin as they battled to keep the ship balanced, each impact of the waves sending them stumbling, reaching out for anything to hold onto. Inside, the ship was alive with sound—the groan of metal, the echo of footsteps, the rattle of unsecured objects sliding and clattering with each violent roll. Every man aboard felt it, the creeping realization that they were up against something far beyond their control. Some muttered quietly to themselves, cursing the storm, while others simply worked in grim silence, their eyes wide with focus, their hands shaking from the cold and the strain. Captain McSorley ordered the crew to batten down every hatch, secure every item, and prepare for the worst. This was a lake storm, not one of the ocean’s hurricanes, but it had the strength of both. The crew moved with the speed and efficiency of seasoned sailors, working to brace the ship against whatever lay ahead. By now, the waves were 20 feet high, slamming into the Fitzgerald with the ferocity of a battering ram. Yet the crew, exhausted and bruised, held to their routines, trusting in the ship’s massive bulk to carry them through. But even McSorley felt the unease. The Arthur M. Anderson, trailing not far behind, had been in constant communication, the two captains trading words of encouragement and advice. Captain Bernie Cooper of the Anderson could see the Fitzgerald in the distance, her silhouette black against the angry waves. He watched, his stomach tightening as he saw her ride up one wave, only to slam down the other side with a force that sent water crashing over her bow. McSorley’s voice cracked over the radio, calm yet strained. “We’re holding our own,” he said, but Cooper could hear the weight in his tone, a man who was pushing against forces he could not fully grasp. In the minutes that followed, the storm intensified, growing darker and more violent. The radar on the Fitzgerald sputtered and failed, leaving them blind in the black waters, reliant only on McSorley’s experience and the messages relayed from the Anderson. The men moved like ghosts, shadows cast by the dim emergency lights that flickered against the steel walls. Water dripped from the ceilings, and somewhere deep in the hull, a steady thump-thump of the waves against the weakened seams echoed like a heartbeat, an ominous rhythm that signaled the beginning of the end. Descent into Darkness Night had fallen, bringing with it a darkness so complete it swallowed everything. The only light was the occasional flash of lightning, casting the ship in stark relief, illuminating the fear-stricken faces of the men as they clung to whatever they could. Outside, the lake was a heaving mass of black water, each wave rising like a hand reaching for the Fitzgerald, determined to drag her down. Captain McSorley stood at the helm, his jaw set, his hands gripping the wheel with white-knuckled intensity. He had faced storms before, but nothing like this. This was no ordinary storm. This was the lake herself, risen in fury, come to claim what was hers. The walls of the Fitzgerald shook with each impact, the entire ship groaning under the relentless assault of water and wind. The pumps were working overtime, trying to keep the water from flooding the holds, but it was a losing battle. As the minutes passed, McSorley felt the dread growing, a cold knot in his stomach that he couldn’t shake. The ship was listing now, tilting ever so slightly to one side, a sure sign that water was seeping in faster than they could pump it out. He knew what that meant. They all did. Yet he kept his voice steady as he spoke into the radio, the words forced, a grim mantra. “We’re holding our own.” The crew worked like men possessed, hands raw and bleeding from gripping ropes and railings, faces numb from the cold spray that soaked them to the bone. They were fighting a losing battle, and they knew it, but none of them would admit it, not out loud. They moved with a grim determination, a refusal to yield to the lake’s wrath, even as their bodies screamed for rest. And then it happened. Out of the darkness, a wave rose, higher and more fearsome than any before it. It towered over the Fitzgerald, a mountain of water that seemed to hang in the air for an eternity before crashing down with a force that defied belief. The ship lurched, the bow plunging beneath the water, and for a moment, the crew thought she might right herself, that she might push back against the lake’s fury. But the lake had made her choice. The water poured in, filling the holds, dragging the ship down inch by inch. There was no alarm, no cry for help, just a heavy silence as the Fitzgerald began her descent, swallowed whole by the black waters of Lake Superior. The Final Minutes The last radio message went out at 7:10 p.m., a final, hollow reassurance from McSorley: “We are holding our own.” And then, silence. On the Arthur M. Anderson, Captain Cooper watched in horror as the Fitzgerald’s radar blip flickered, wavered, and then disappeared. He scanned the horizon, his heart pounding, hoping to see a flare, a light, anything. But the lake offered no such mercy. The Fitzgerald was gone, swallowed without a trace, leaving only the endless, rolling waves in her wake. For hours, the Anderson searched, hoping against hope to find survivors, to see a life raft, a bobbing light on the water. But there was nothing, just the darkness and the ceaseless roar of the lake. And as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Captain Cooper knew that the lake had claimed them all. In that silence, in that endless black water, the Edmund Fitzgerald became a legend, a ghost ship lost to the depths, her fate sealed by the wrath of Lake Superior. Part 2: The Fury Unleashed An Unnatural Storm As the Fitzgerald battled the lake’s fury, each man aboard began to understand what they were facing. This was no ordinary storm; this was something ancient, something primal. It felt as though the lake itself had awakened, rearing up to drag them under. The crew, seasoned men who had seen their share of storms, exchanged glances that betrayed their mounting dread. They knew that

From The Depths:: The Haunting Legacy of The Edmund Fitzgerald

.أحكي السيرة النبوية وقصص الصحابة وغيرها من التاريخ الاسلامي

Anas Action - أنس أكشن

Welcome to the History of Pirates. Here we talk about the real and not real pirates and their place in history. HistoryofPirates.org

The History of Pirates Podcast

Uncle Siris is an American Radio broadcaster/DJ that relocated from NYC to Northern Israel and broadcasts live from the radio station 105.3FM Kol HaGalil HaElyon weekly.Each episode he takes the listener on a time travel experience through music history presented in a mixtape style format. Playing everything from Reggae, Funk, Ska &amp; Punk to Doo Wop, Hip Hop, Soul &amp; Rock’N’ Roll. We genre jump each episode so you always have something fresh to listen to."Its the perfect music variety show for those suffering from attention deficit disorder" -Dr.Demento&nbsp;&nbsp;Available on Buzzsprout Apple, Google, and Amazon Podcasts but first broadcasted LIVE in the HolyLand from 105.3FM. &nbsp;Unedited, unfiltered and best of all commercial free music therapy served up weekly in a musical melting pot.&nbsp; So board our Time Machine for a sonic audio journey that your earholes will thank you for later. YALLA ברוכים הבאים למופע מגוון המוזיקה של הדוד סיריסבין אם אתה גר בישראל, ניו יורק או בכל מקום באמצעמוזיקה היא השפה האמיתית היחידה שהיא בינלאומית.&nbsp; הצטרפו אלינו ולחצו על הקישור בביו &nbsp; &nbsp;Hosted on Acast. See <a href="https://acast.com/privacy">acast.com/privacy</a> for more information.

Uncle Siris is an American Radio broadcaster/DJ that relocated from NYC to Northern Israel and broadcasts live from the radio station 105.3FM Kol HaGalil HaElyon weekly. Each episode he takes the listener on a time travel experience through music history presented in a mixtape style format. Playing everything from Reggae, Funk, Ska & Punk to Doo Wop, Hip Hop, Soul & Rock’N’ Roll. We genre jump each episode so you always have something fresh to listen to. "Its the perfect music variety show for those suffering from attention deficit disorder" -Dr.Demento   Available on Buzzsprout Apple, Google, and Amazon Podcasts but first broadcasted LIVE in the HolyLand from 105.3FM.  Unedited, unfiltered and best of all commercial free music therapy served up weekly in a musical melting pot.  So board our Time Machine for a sonic audio journey that your earholes will thank you for later. YALLA ברוכים הבאים למופע מגוון המוזיקה של הדוד סיריסבין אם אתה גר בישראל, ניו יורק או בכל מקום באמצעמוזיקה היא השפה האמיתית היחידה שהיא בינלאומית.  הצטרפו אלינו ולחצו על הקישור בביו    Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Uncle Siris is an American Radio broadcaster/DJ that relocated from NYC to Northern Israel and broadcasts live from the radio station 105.3FM Kol HaGalil HaElyon weekly.Each episode he takes the listener on a time travel experience through music history presented in a mixtape style format. Playing everything from Reggae, Funk, Ska &amp; Punk to Doo Wop, Hip Hop, Soul &amp; Rock’N’ Roll. We genre jump each episode so you always have something fresh to listen to."Its the perfect music variety show for those suffering from attention deficit disorder" -Dr.Demento&nbsp;&nbsp;Available on Buzzsprout Apple, Google, and Amazon Podcasts but first broadcasted LIVE in the HolyLand from 105.3FM. &nbsp;Unedited, unfiltered and best of all commercial free music therapy served up weekly in a musical melting pot.&nbsp; So board our Time Machine for a sonic audio journey that your earholes will thank you for later. YALLA ברוכים הבאים למופע מגוון המוזיקה של הדוד סיריסבין אם אתה גר בישראל, ניו יורק או בכל מקום באמצעמוזיקה היא השפה האמיתית היחידה שהיא בינלאומית.&nbsp; הצטרפו אלינו ולחצו על הקישור בביו &nbsp; &nbsp;Hosted on Acast. See <a href="https://acast.com/privacy" rel="noopener noreferrer">acast.com/privacy</a> for more information.

The Uncle Siris Show

The Russian invasion of Finland in November 1939 came as a bloody shock to the people of the small Baltic state, not least the government which appeared to have misread Joseph Stalin’s intentions. 

The location for this terrible saga lies at the easternmost end of the Baltic Sea, between the Gulf of Finland and the huge Lake Ladoga, this is the rugged and very narrow Karelian Isthmus. 

Flying over this territory in a light plane reveals its stark and stern beauty, cut laterally by crisp blue lakes, blanketed in an evergreen forest, stubby grey and reddy grey hills pop up here and there. 

There was virtually nothing of value here at least at first, no minerals, very little agriculture as the soils are poor. That was going to change when the Finns discovered large deposits of nickel in the Petsamo region and would hand over mining concessions to the British. 
The Russians did not like that one little bit. 
But it wasn’t minerals that led to Moscow invading their much smaller neighbour, it was the fear of the Germans. This little bit of land was going to be fought over as it had been so often through history. 
The Karelian Isthmus is a land bridge between the seething eastward mass of mother Russia and Asia, and the immensity of the Scandinavian Peninsular that swells downward to the west. It’s like a highway for tribal migration, a route for trade, a channel for cultural movements, and a gateway for conquest.

The Russian invasion of Finland in November 1939 came as a bloody shock to the people of the small Baltic state, not least the government which appeared to have misread Joseph Stalin’s intentions. The location for this terrible saga lies at the easternmost end of the Baltic Sea, between the Gulf of Finland and the huge Lake Ladoga, this is the rugged and very narrow Karelian Isthmus. Flying over this territory in a light plane reveals its stark and stern beauty, cut laterally by crisp blue lakes, blanketed in an evergreen forest, stubby grey and reddy grey hills pop up here and there. There was virtually nothing of value here at least at first, no minerals, very little agriculture as the soils are poor. That was going to change when the Finns discovered large deposits of nickel in the Petsamo region and would hand over mining concessions to the British. The Russians did not like that one little bit. But it wasn’t minerals that led to Moscow invading their much smaller neighbour, it was the fear of the Germans. This little bit of land was going to be fought over as it had been so often through history. The Karelian Isthmus is a land bridge between the seething eastward mass of mother Russia and Asia, and the immensity of the Scandinavian Peninsular that swells downward to the west. It’s like a highway for tribal migration, a route for trade, a channel for cultural movements, and a gateway for conquest.

The Winter War

Canada’s history is weirder, wilder, and more surprising than you think. Each episode dives into a true story you’ve probably never heard — the forgotten, the buried, and the unbelievable. No myths. Just Canada, unfiltered.

Canada’s history is weirder, wilder, and more surprising than you think. Each episode dives into a true story you’ve probably never heard — the forgotten, the buried, and the unbelievable. No myths. Just Canada, unfiltered.

History Podcasts / Page 150

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From The Depths:: The Haunting Legacy of The Edmund Fitzgerald

Anas Action - أنس أكشن

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山有虎

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پادکست راز و مه

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