Someone beat me to the punch
I've blogged before (probably just before the start of NaNoWriMo) that I would love to write a book using the characters in my father's family. You just don't find people like these anymore (and in some cases that's a good thing). I found out last night that someone beat me to the punch!
I spent the night at my parent's house because Daddy was out of town fulfilling his duties as Slum Lord. Technically, Mama could spend the night alone, but why make her do so? It's no trouble for me to go over there. I spent the night with her a couple of nights after she had just gotten out of the hospital. Under those conditions, I actually slept in her bed with her so that I could help her go to the bathroom if needed (it wasn't). Last night, there was truly no need for me to sleep with her, so I took the guest bed upstairs.
Since the good TV season is over, I'm getting back into reading. I hadn't brought a book with me to Mama's thinking that I wouldn't really have any time to myself. But as I went upstairs at 9:00 I realized that I really wanted something to read. I went into Daddy's office. He's got a great bookcase loaded with books. But I don't know why I thought any of them would be fiction. Most of his books are ancient encyclopedias, textbooks left over from his college days, or technical manuals on machines that he hasn't sold in 20 years. Well, that's not entirely fair, Mama has her share of shelf space dedicated to fad diet books from various decades. In other words, I wasn't likely to find any good reading material.
Finally, I spied two fiction books. One looked like a romance novel. I have no idea where that came from, probably a garage sale. The other looked like a self-published memoir of a sea captain from my family's home city. I opted for the tales of adventures on the high seas, at least I would recognize place names and it was highly probable that my father knew the author.
I usually don't spend a lot of time reading about the author until after I've finished the story. But this time, I wanted to see if I knew this man. Nothing in the Foreward or Acknowledgments made me think I'd ever met this man, but I certainly knew of the places he spoke - even as far away as the Bahamas. Well, on with the story.
It was clear by the illustrations that the first chapter was going to be about a raid this man had done with the CIA on a port in Cuba in 1960. Huh. Well, I don't have any CIA connections, nor have I been to Cuba. The author spent a lot of time describing the super fast, heavily armed speed boat that he piloted for this mission. He explained that he needed to approach the Cuban coast alongside a freighter boat so that the two boats would appear to be one blip on radar - then he'd break away at the last minute.
Finally, he described the captain of the "spy" freighter. You could have knocked me over with a feather when I read my own last name! The description was "Captain [insert my last name here] was a big man with a big laugh." A big man? In our family? That can only describe ONE person - the fourth brother, or seventh kid in the family. To date, he is the only one of my father's siblings no longer living. But he certainly was "a big man with a big laugh." (To Jules, you know his oldest son from a long time ago. His father wasn't quite as heavy as his son, but otherwise, they look quite a bit alike.)
I stopped to calculate how old this uncle of mine would have been in 1960. The nearest I can figure is around 20, maybe even younger. So there's no way this can be based on fact. My uncle wasn't a spy freighter captain helping run raids on Cuba in 1960. I flipped to the back of the book to see if there were any notes about the story. Sure enough, I found a footnote that read "To my friends, this is a novel, fiction, fantasy." I also read that was part of the family that owned the tugboat towing company where so many of my family (including that uncle) to this day still work. As a matter of fact, that uncle's youngest two sons were two of the last men to get on with that company based on familial ties. It's nearly impossible to get on down there anymore. you'd never know it by his laid-back demeanor, but the youngest son of that uncle is currently the captain with the most certifications working out of that very busy port.
I've just started the book. I have no idea if my uncle's character will show up in later chapters. But it's awesome to see him alive again, even if it's only in the pages of a silly novel. I was about 11 when he died. We didn't live in the same city, so it's not like I saw him often. But I remember him as my favorite uncle. He was strict with his own boys, but he had lots of love and big hugs for his nieces. He always wanted a daughter. It's easy to get lost in a big family full of kids. You walk into a room already crowded with aunts, uncles and cousins and nobody notices one more awkward kid. I remember him as the only uncle who noticed when I walked into the room. I know he gave that same attention to all my cousins, but it really meant something to me.
Well, I didn't intend for this to turn morose. Through the years I've always focused on how much I wish he was still around for his own family. I rarely stop to think about how much I miss him for myself. Loss threatens to be the theme of my life right now. No matter how much I fight it, every once in a while it overtakes me.
[and now a word from our sponsors...]
I spent the night at my parent's house because Daddy was out of town fulfilling his duties as Slum Lord. Technically, Mama could spend the night alone, but why make her do so? It's no trouble for me to go over there. I spent the night with her a couple of nights after she had just gotten out of the hospital. Under those conditions, I actually slept in her bed with her so that I could help her go to the bathroom if needed (it wasn't). Last night, there was truly no need for me to sleep with her, so I took the guest bed upstairs.
Since the good TV season is over, I'm getting back into reading. I hadn't brought a book with me to Mama's thinking that I wouldn't really have any time to myself. But as I went upstairs at 9:00 I realized that I really wanted something to read. I went into Daddy's office. He's got a great bookcase loaded with books. But I don't know why I thought any of them would be fiction. Most of his books are ancient encyclopedias, textbooks left over from his college days, or technical manuals on machines that he hasn't sold in 20 years. Well, that's not entirely fair, Mama has her share of shelf space dedicated to fad diet books from various decades. In other words, I wasn't likely to find any good reading material.
Finally, I spied two fiction books. One looked like a romance novel. I have no idea where that came from, probably a garage sale. The other looked like a self-published memoir of a sea captain from my family's home city. I opted for the tales of adventures on the high seas, at least I would recognize place names and it was highly probable that my father knew the author.
I usually don't spend a lot of time reading about the author until after I've finished the story. But this time, I wanted to see if I knew this man. Nothing in the Foreward or Acknowledgments made me think I'd ever met this man, but I certainly knew of the places he spoke - even as far away as the Bahamas. Well, on with the story.
It was clear by the illustrations that the first chapter was going to be about a raid this man had done with the CIA on a port in Cuba in 1960. Huh. Well, I don't have any CIA connections, nor have I been to Cuba. The author spent a lot of time describing the super fast, heavily armed speed boat that he piloted for this mission. He explained that he needed to approach the Cuban coast alongside a freighter boat so that the two boats would appear to be one blip on radar - then he'd break away at the last minute.
Finally, he described the captain of the "spy" freighter. You could have knocked me over with a feather when I read my own last name! The description was "Captain [insert my last name here] was a big man with a big laugh." A big man? In our family? That can only describe ONE person - the fourth brother, or seventh kid in the family. To date, he is the only one of my father's siblings no longer living. But he certainly was "a big man with a big laugh." (To Jules, you know his oldest son from a long time ago. His father wasn't quite as heavy as his son, but otherwise, they look quite a bit alike.)
I stopped to calculate how old this uncle of mine would have been in 1960. The nearest I can figure is around 20, maybe even younger. So there's no way this can be based on fact. My uncle wasn't a spy freighter captain helping run raids on Cuba in 1960. I flipped to the back of the book to see if there were any notes about the story. Sure enough, I found a footnote that read "To my friends, this is a novel, fiction, fantasy." I also read that was part of the family that owned the tugboat towing company where so many of my family (including that uncle) to this day still work. As a matter of fact, that uncle's youngest two sons were two of the last men to get on with that company based on familial ties. It's nearly impossible to get on down there anymore. you'd never know it by his laid-back demeanor, but the youngest son of that uncle is currently the captain with the most certifications working out of that very busy port.
I've just started the book. I have no idea if my uncle's character will show up in later chapters. But it's awesome to see him alive again, even if it's only in the pages of a silly novel. I was about 11 when he died. We didn't live in the same city, so it's not like I saw him often. But I remember him as my favorite uncle. He was strict with his own boys, but he had lots of love and big hugs for his nieces. He always wanted a daughter. It's easy to get lost in a big family full of kids. You walk into a room already crowded with aunts, uncles and cousins and nobody notices one more awkward kid. I remember him as the only uncle who noticed when I walked into the room. I know he gave that same attention to all my cousins, but it really meant something to me.
Well, I didn't intend for this to turn morose. Through the years I've always focused on how much I wish he was still around for his own family. I rarely stop to think about how much I miss him for myself. Loss threatens to be the theme of my life right now. No matter how much I fight it, every once in a while it overtakes me.
[and now a word from our sponsors...]
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2 Comments:
I would love to read that. And I think you should write your own as well. That's a plan/dream/likely to never happen idea of mine - I first thought of it when I was a teenager - before my grandfather died and it's still something that comes back to my mind often. I think the project would take a great deal of emotional energy that Im not sure I have. sigh
I don't take the time to miss my uncle for myself much either. It's usually thoughts about my cousins loss of their father than prevails. I was just talking to my grandmother about that yesterday.
Work with Poly. He wants to do the same thing. Wait...nevermind. It's hard to work with Poly on things.
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