Joshua Buckingham

It is noon on November 15, 1923, in the bustling heart of New York City. As you walk down the crowded streets, your eyes drift down to your shadow moving along the pavement—until you suddenly collide with someone. Both of you stumble and fall to the ground, landing on the hard sidewalk. The other person quickly rises to his feet and looks down at you. He appears to be a young man, perhaps still in his teens. He’s dressed in a white button-up shirt, neatly paired with a black vest and tie.