May 15, 2008
Guest Blogger Pamela Morsi
Written by Jaunty Guest in Jaunty Guests
Get ready Jaunty Quills enthusiasts. Memorial Day weekend is just ten days away! I’m Pam Morsi, your guest blogger today. And I’m here to remind you that hot dogs and potato salad are in your immediate future.
It’s been a busy month for me. I’ve got a new book out and I’ve been doing some traveling around to try to promote it. I like traveling, but I really like staying at home too. So, I try not to overbook myself and spend more time than I really want on the road. With that said, yesterday nobody was more surprised than me when I decided that for this Memorial Day weekend I would head north to Oklahoma and see my old Uncle Bob.
Uncle Bob is a gentle soul, with a smile so wide it makes his eyes disappear, and a laugh that comes rumbling up from a depth of good humor. He’s the last of his generation in my family. He’s outlived his brother and sister and most of his friends. Although he still takes care of his own yard, he’s just not as strong as he used to be. He doesn’t see as well and doesn’t drive unless it’s an emergency.
On Saturday, the 24th, his high school will have a big alumni picnic. He wants to go and visit old friends. So I’m going to take him.
His class, the Seniors of 1942 faced a world so different from ours, it’s hard to get our minds around it. Many of his classmates quit school before graduation to go into the military. And others who’d signed up for the National Guard right out of Boy Scouts were simply plucked out of class. He knew that he would be going off to fight a war, because the whole world was involved in one.
Bob was lucky to come back, he says. Lucky because some of the battles he was in, D-Day, the Hurtgen Forrest, the Battle of the Bulge, are imfamous for all the guys like him that didn’t come back. I knew that Uncle Bob was in WWII, but I didn’t know a lot about it.
My father was a highly decorated Army Air Corps Medic who served in four theaters of the war. Maybe he overshadowed his younger brother. Or maybe Uncle Bob is just too modest about the contribution that he made.
My first true understanding of these men I’ve known all my life came about while I was doing research for the character named Bud, in my new book LAST DANCE AT JITTERBUG LOUNGE. Let me make it clear, Bud isn’t my Uncle Bob. The old man I created in that story is a composite of a lot of guys of that age and time. The fond memories of days gone by and the scars of events that can’t quite be outlived are both a part of all of them.
This Memorial Day, when laughing and eating and enjoying friends and family, as we rightly should, let’s all do some remembering of those who serve their country in all our conflicts. We do that by being the cheering crowd in the hometown parade and by decorating the graves of the fallen.
I’ll be hanging out with one of the heroes that’s still with us.
Maybe you can find time to do the same. I realize that everyone doesn’t have an Uncle Bob. But just a mile or so from my house is Brook Army Medical Center. Hundreds of men and women are recovering there, rehabilitating themselves for more active duty or a whole new battle completely. Volunteer opportunities abound. I’m sure your own community has its way to say thanks to Vets. We are all so blessed that these people are willing to put themselves in harm’s way. That’s something that can’t be measured into potato salad.
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Shana Says:
Welcome, Pamela! I have to say, I’m excited about Memorial Day now! I love the cover of your book. Is it set during WWII?
Pam Morsi Says:
Thanks Shana. The book is actually a contemporary. The main characters are a thirtysomething couple that we get to know over seven days during a family crisis.
But there is a second storyline told by Bud about 70 years of his life with Geri. And of course, WWII was the defining moment for that generation.
RobynDeHart Says:
Yeah, Pam, thanks for joining us. Hey, quills did you know that when I was in college I worked a semester as Pam’s intern? She paid me with a lunch tour of San Antonio. We had a great time and we’ve been friends ever since.
I’m so excited about this book. I just bought it last week and I can’t wait to read it. But y’all are tired of hearing me whine about the whole not-reading-during-the-deadline junk so I won’t say it.
There’s just nothing like reading a Pam Morsi book.
Thanks for the great reminder of Memorial Day and what it really means. Now I definitely want some potato salad.
Cindi Myers Says:
So good to see you here, Pam. I loved hearing about your Uncle Bob — what a guy! Can’t wait to read the new book.
Cindi
Shirley Karr Says:
Hi, Pam! :wave: Thanks for joining us today. And thanks for the reminder that Memorial Day isn’t about cook-outs. I don’t know any vets from WWII (that I’m aware of) but my dad was in Thailand during the Viet Nam war. Scary times.
Time for reading for pleasure … sigh. Maybe I’ll get some of that again when Daniel stops teething.
Pam Morsi Says:
Yes, it’s true. Robyn was once my intern. It was a really sad time in my life and she showed up every day like a ray of sunshine.
Cindi, your name came up this weekend when I was in Tampa. Friends say hello.
Shirley, you know what they say about raising kids, “The years are short, but the days are long.”
Yes, you will read again very soon. And his beautiful teeth will have been worth the sacrifice. :thumbsup:
P
Sherry Sylvester Says:
How do you get the little smiley faces to stick to your comment? This is the best blog entry I’ve ever read, and I read a lot of them…
Pam Morsi Says:
Dear Sherry :fryingpan:
You are completely prejudiced in my favor :blahblah: and have absolutely no standing to make such a comment. So … thanks. :rotfl:
The way you get the little smiley faces is to click on them.
Hint: They don’t show up like that in this block. :guitar:
Fedora Says:
Hi, Pam, Thanks for the reminder about those who serve and thanks for letting us know about your new book–it sounds like a wonderful story!
Rainy Says:
Hi Pam,
As usual, I get my two cents in just seconds away from the midnight hour.
I spend a lot of winters in Florida where my husband and I are the young’ns there. What I’ve found from traveling and seeing so many of the older generation is that there is so much more to that “old duff” in the baggy pants and white hair. If you take the time to talk to some of these wonderful people, you might find a wealth of memories and a very surprising past life they’ve lived. We tend to make a quick judgment on people and young people often disregard old people as being out of touch.
So, I agree. Talk to some of these people and find out their stories before they disappear.
Pam Morsi Says:
Thanks Fedora. The book was really a labor of love to write. Such an impressive era. For most of us, that’s our parents and grandparents. It’s hard to imagine that they were so young and were up against so much. In fiction we can kind of get into the moment, kind of look at it through their eyes. Though of course, it can’t truly be what they saw or felt. But it gives us clues anyway. Or at least I hope it does. P
Pam Morsi Says:
Rainy, you’ve got it right. I think we are too quick to judge our elders. I guess we think that because they don’t know about things we know about, that they don’t know anything. You don’t get that many years in without learning something. (Probably a lot of somethings.) And it’s so cool when writing characters to actually see them as young people and see them getting through things that we’re trying to get through now. Thanks for chiming in, even at the the last minute. P
Cheryl St.John Says:
Hi, Pam! I’m going to find this book right now. I can’t wait.
I once brought a whole bag of your books to the Rocky Mountain Book Festival in Denver, and you signed them all for me!
Hope your sales are through the roof!