Gr 1-4–The story of the disaster is told through the eyes of the last surviving member of the crew, Werner Franz, who was only 14 at the time of the crash. He was a cabin boy aboard the luxury airship and moved freely about the zeppelin as he completed his regular duties. On May 6, 1937, attempting to land on a New Jersey airfield, the Hindenburg caught fire and the hydrogen-filled cells were immediately engulfed in flames. Young Werner was saved by a soaking from a burst water tank and narrowly escape the inferno. This picture-book biography provides an exciting introduction to the bygone days before airplanes were a viable option for crossing the Atlantic. While the information provided about the Hindenburg and airships is brief, the story is punctuated with descriptive details, and readers may be encouraged to seek out more in-depth sources. The writing is straightforward, but with enough suspense and buzz to keep students interested. The accompanying paintings, with their slightly subdued colors, adequately depict the drama as it unfolds. A solid addition to real-life disaster collections.

The 100th anniversary of the Titanic disaster is a good chance to rope in discussion of the 1937 explosion of the Hindenburg, which, as Verstraete’s foreword details, was nearly as long as the Titanic and intended to be “the world’s first flying hotel.” Told from the point of view of the youngest crew member, 14-yearold cabin-boy Werner Franz, this is an effectively claustrophobic insider story. Werner is depicted walking through the fascinatingly narrow inner passageways of the zeppelin and gazing out at Manhattan’s “ocean of buildings far and wide.” From Werner’s viewpoint, the explosion is utter confusion—in less than a minute, he is plunged into a fiery nightmare illustrated by Geister as a hellish world of churning smoke and buckling metal. Throughout, the prose is level-headed and calm, which might allay reader fears, even as it feels a bit incongruous. The limited perspective keeps the grandeur of the crash at bay until the final paintings, where Werner cowers before the crumbling ship. There is no bibliography, but the closing author’s note is fantastic.