The Fading Power of Handwriting: My Dad and Journaling in Northern Michigan
D-Day was just three months away, but my dad’s Uncle Walt was instead worrying about the folks back home, specifically his sister Laura and her husband.
I didn’t know my grandparents had a rocky marriage, or that they were even separated, until I’d read this folded letter in my grandma’s shoebox.
Sixty years later, I attended the funeral of Walt and Laura’s youngest brother Jerry in Florida, I had a chance to give the letter to Walt’s children, whom I had never met. Walt had died thirty-four years earlier and they had never seen their father’s handwriting from a young hand–smooth, and confident. They … Read More…
