The last battle of World War II was fought 70 years ago next month, but for tens of thousands of American servicemen — and women — the battles continued at home. Only then, the soldiers didn’t have their buddies next to them in the foxhole. This war — waged with horrible memories, nightmares and survivor’s guilt — had to be fought …
Last March, I wrote here about my friends Harley and Peggy Stahlecker, from my hometown of Crookston, Minn. Both had lost older brothers in World War II. Another brother of Harley’s, Milton Stahlecker, survived combat in the Pacific but came back a changed man. When we talked this spring, neither Peggy or Harley had yet read my new novel, “Every …
It was on one of the last nights in January that their company commander, a captain named Richards, called the men together when they had gone to the rear for food. “Tomorrow is the first day of the end of the war,’’ Richards said. “At oh-two-thirty we move forward, and we’re not stopping until we get to Berlin. The Germans …
In my novel, “Every Common Sight, the battlefield experiences of my character, Wendell Smith, are based on the real-life horrors of World War II veterans I interviewed in the 1990s. The following is one example of how heartbreaking truth morphed into fiction. I’ll never forget the sight of Earl Crumby — a small, wiry fellow with thick black hair and glasses …
I met Fred Rogers in the fall of 1995, when I profiled the host of “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. I quickly accepted his surprising invitation to friendship. It was three years later, on one of my trips to see Fred at his home in Pittsburgh, that I found a copy of Esquire magazine on a coffee table in his …
I’ve known Harley Stahlecker and his wife, Peggy, pretty much my whole life. Harley was a legendary teacher, coach and referee in the little town where I grew up, Crookston, Minn. Peggy was the mother of the Stahlecker boys, who in the 1970s and ’80s were teammates of the Madigan boys in hockey and baseball. It was a happy time …
It recently occurred to me that I’ve lived with the characters of my new novel almost as long as I’ve known my children. Wendell Smith, the haunted World War II veteran; his saintly wife, Selma; their son, William; Wendell’s steadfast sidekick, Francis; Claire Cavanaugh, the beautiful young woman with a secret of her own; Claire’s devoted husband, Larry. They are …