While looking through a collection of Depression Era public domain photos (one from Taos, New Mexico was used for the story cover), one sparked some thoughts: What were the two men on the left talking about? And what about the man by the depot window with hunched shoulders? What’s up with him? That picture became this story from Dennis Lowery. Here are some of the reader comments:
“Excellent. Loved the twist. You paint characters so well and with so few words, too.” –Vicki Tyley
“Really cool! Thanks for sharing!” –CN
“Awesomeness!” –Susan Gabriel
“Incredible…” –Lena Kindo-Kamara
“A great little read!” –Rebecca Harden-Heick
“They think,” Henry nodded in the cop’s direction at the sidewalk, “the killer’s headed to Santa Fe.”
“Nah, I bet he went north.” Joe drew hard on his cigarette, taking the smoke deep and letting it out in plumes. “Folks on the radio are warning people to watch out… whoever he is, he’s a dangerous man.”
Henry shook his head slightly. Joe was one of those men who sounded, with dead-solid certainty, like he was right. But he was always mostly wrong and sensationalized everything when he passed it on to others. “What makes you think it’s a man, Joe?” He wanted to wind him up a bit and see where he spun.
“Bud Carson’s my wife’s nephew… he works with Tom Flint’s cousin. Tom’s the deputy who found the man on Old Mill Road night before last, just as he rattled out his last breath. Tom told his cousin the killer caved the man’s ribs in—someone beat the shit out of him. And get this,” he took a last drag from the cigarette butt in his hand and flipped it to the ground, “the head had been twisted, so it was turned around backward.” He shook his head. “The poor bastard was belly down but looking up at Tom when he died. Musta happened not long before Tom rolled up.” He pinched a piece of tobacco off his tongue and spat. “Ain’t no woman strong enough to do that.”
“You haven’t been here but a year, Joe. And haven’t seen Bill Stoudemire’s wife, Maggie.” Henry shook his head and winced, remembering his single date with her when they were young. “She’d go 200 pounds… and none of it fat.” He shuddered again at the thought of when he told her he wouldn’t go out with her again. “And she’s a mean bitch. That’s probably why Bill ran off a couple of years ago.” He looked thoughtful. “Maggie, she doesn’t come to town much… stays on her place east of town.”
“Well, I don’t think no woman could do it.” Joe turned away. “See you later.”
Henry watched him walk toward Mabel’s Diner and thought, Old Mill Road runs east-west…. right by Maggie’s land. He let the idle thought slip away. It was time to pick up that load of lumber from Granger’s and get to work.
The hatless man near the bus depot window stood shoulders hunched and faced away from the others waiting for the bus. They never should have come to Taos, he thought. But they’d heard there might be work. There was. But he and Johnny never should have taken that laborer job. Poor Johnny. He had to flirt with that woman who hired them… and then tap it. He’d grinned and said, “In the dark, there’s more of her to grab. And man, she can squeeze her thing tight.”
But something about her had bothered him. The way she watched them. He had slept in the barn, but Johnny was in the farmhouse with her after the first night. The fourth day, yesterday, he had come to breakfast to find that Johnny was gone. She had smiled at him—a gap-toothed invitation—and came close enough to brush his shoulder with the biggest tits he’d ever seen. “Your friend took off… you can sleep in the house tonight.” She had put her hand on his shoulder and given it a crushing pinch. “Come supper time, I’ll pay you your wages,” she waved a five-spot in her other hand.
He had nodded and gone out to the stretch of fence he and Johnny had been mending the day before. They both needed money, and Johnny wouldn’t have run for no reason, but he hadn’t wanted the kind of trouble this woman seemed capable of dishing. He had decided to finish the job and get the Hell away from her, but with that fiver.
At sundown, she had called him to dinner, “Come and ‘get it’….” He couldn’t help but hear her emphasis on her call to eat… and to something else.
At the table, he had wiped his plate clean. She had studied him, an up-and-down run of her eyes. “You eat like a starved man…” She had gotten up from the chair and moved to sit beside him, touching his forearm. “I do love me a man who has a hunger,” she squeezed and let go to hand him the five-dollar bill. “I’m the hungry kind, too….” As she got up, she leaned forward to drag the tips of her chest across his arm and straightened, her eyes shifting toward the room where she’d taken Johnny the last time he’d seen him.
He had stuffed the money in his pants pocket. “I left your tools out; gotta go put them away….” The look on her face had hardened into something he’d never seen on a woman’s face. He had met her glare, worked up a smile, and squinted at the darkened entry to her bedroom and back, “I’ll be quick… for some of that dessert.” The smile returned, and she showed the edges of her teeth behind the curl of her lips. “I’ll get it ready,” she had walked to the bedroom as he headed outside.
When he was near the fence line, he had shifted from a walk to a sprint. On the dirt road, he had slowed for the long run to town. He had spent the night hiding in a patch of woods, walked in at daylight, and waited. The morning bus for Santa Fe was late. He had heard from the newsboy working the corner with a stack of papers at his feet, ink so fresh the kid’s hands smeared with it; a body had been found the day before just off the road near town. And now a cop was checking people at the depot.
Maybe I should tell the police what happened, he thought. Maybe Johnny ran from her but was hurt and didn’t make it. But that arrest warrant for him in Los Angeles was waiting to land like a ton of brick. They’d send him away for a long time on that one. Where was that bus?
* * *
Years Later
By Jack Freeman, TTR
When Maggie Stoudemire died without kin in what appeared to be a tragic car accident, little did citizens of Taos know it would lead to the most shocking crime scene in the history of northern New Mexico. When the county took the Stoudemire land for taxes and sold it at auction, the farm’s new owners found twenty bodies. All male, some dating back more than twenty years. The most recent appears to have been dead for several months. They have identified only one body, Bill Stoudemire. Maggie’s husband, who had been reported missing in 1932. The Taos County Sheriff’s Department reports they have been working with federal and state authorities to review missing person reports to help identify the remaining bodies.
For the past month, Samantha’s grandfather had sat on the front porch each day as the summer deepened into a scorched August, whose heat often lasted into the first weeks of September. His face had drawn tighter each day as the grass and weeds grew tall and wild around the tree, crowning the crest of the hill. Samantha knew about the tree and what it meant to him. She hated it.
That morning she had seen the—about to do something you’d rather not but must—expression on her grandfather’s face. She thought of the same one her mother used to get as the ‘time-to-clean-the-cat-litter-box’ look. When she’d grown older and her mom had passed the chore to her, Samantha had understood. Her grandpa had come inside, sighed deeply, crossed the room, and got his broad-brimmed hat from the peg by the kitchen door to the backyard. He set the cap on his head and stepped outside without a word. From the window over the sink, she saw him enter the barn. In a few minutes, she had heard its starting cough, and the chuff and chug of the Massey-Ferguson’s engine got louder as the tractor approached the house and less so as it moved toward the hill.
Samantha went out onto the front porch to watch him. She cursed the sun’s blistering brightness with a sideways scowl beneath her headscarf. She hated it most of all.
As the tractor huffed along—spitting through the vertical exhaust pipe her grandfather always warned her not to touch—it grew even louder as the sound echoed off the hillside. Grandpa headed up in a straight line and would work his way around the tree and outward in an expanding concentric circle. As he closed on the top of the hill, the sun focused all its rays. This side of the knoll where the clump of rocks created an overhang showed a sliver of shadow as the sun arced over to fall full force on Grandpa.
“Samantha.”
She turned as her grandmother came out onto the porch. Dangling by the plastic loop connecting them, in one hand, she held two bottles already sweating with condensation. “Run these up to your papaw and make sure he drinks them.”
Samantha peeked again from beneath the edge of the porch’s shade at a sky, so piercing blue her eyes ached.
Her grandmother studied her for a moment, measuring her reluctance. “Please, honey.”
Her grandma couldn’t climb the hill. “Okay, Mamaw,” she took the bottles of water, Grandpa’s favorite flavor Kiwi-Strawberry, and set them on the porch rail. The long sleeves of her white shirt now rolled down; she picked up the umbrella always with her outside during the day.
The gray-haired woman surveyed Samantha’s preparations, and a growing sadness tightened her face. Her granddaughter had lost more than her mother. She was losing—to bitterness and fear—the joy she could still find in the simple moments of growing up and the pleasure and beauty in the world.
Samantha scrutinized the hill, haloed by the haze of dry-summer dust settling in the still air. Younger, she had begged her mom to carry her up there when her little legs couldn’t make the climb. A little older, and she’d made it holding her hand. As she grew up, it became a mother-versus-daughter race to the top. There they’d have picnics under the sun and in the semi-shade of the tree. Her mom would pick thistles blowing on them to make their tiny stalks float and dance in the air. “Make a wish Samantha,” she would tell her. Sometimes the wind carried them out of sight. She always wanted to ask her mom what happened to those wishes—the ones that sailed away—but never remembered. Now it was too late. She’d never know her mother’s answer.
Samantha popped the umbrella open, picked up the water bottles by the loop, and stepped off the porch and under the sun. Entering the field through the gate, her dragging steps scuffed up puffs from the dried grass clippings left by grandfather’s bush hog. The mower attachment his tractor towed to cut field and pasture grass. Ten minutes later, already drenched in sweat, she reached the base of the hill. With the umbrella angled to cover her, she climbed for another ten minutes to the top. Papaw waved as she approached. He had cleared the area around the tree and gestured for her to follow him as he turned toward it. He lowered the brush hog at the edge of the tree’s shade and shut off the tractor. In the silence, there wasn’t a whisper of wind.
The summer had been hotter than any she could remember. She still smelled the creosote of the asphalt—a stench she forever associated with her mother’s death—in the hospital parking lot. The heat had leached upward through the bottoms of her shoes and climbed her legs like the mercury in the thermometer Grandpa had put on a post by the porch. Then would reverse once she stepped into the over-air-conditioned hospital to sit with her mother, growing colder as she lay dying.
She glared at the underside of the black umbrella through the sting of sweat in her eyes, the pull of the headscarf’s edges sticking to her brow. She held the sides of the bottles against a cheek, a temporary relief. Her grandfather wiped his face with a handkerchief when she reached the tractor. He took off his hat and mopped his bald head.
“Here you go, Papaw,” she handed him the water. He stripped one bottle from the loop, unscrewed the top, drank, and smacked his lips. He gave it back and stuck the second bottle into his pants unbuttoned right cargo pocket. She took a drink as he rolled his sleeves up. The hair on his arms—so thick she always wondered what happened to the hair on his head—was matted with sweat.
“Hot one today,” he grunted as he slid off the seat and straightened. Both hands pressed at the small of his back as he pushed himself erect. “I need a breather.” He smiled, patted her shoulder, and walked to the tree’s base. He thumped the thick trunk with the palm of his left hand. “I planted this when your Mamaw told me she was pregnant with your momma,” he stroked the rough bark. “This was our—mine and your mom’s—tree.”
She didn’t want to listen to the story again. “Papaw,” she touched his arm. It wasn’t just sweat on her cheeks.
“Okay, honey.” He lowered to the ground with his back against the tree he had seen grow up with his daughter and wiped his eyes, rubbing at the corners with his thumbs. Samantha sat next to him. After a minute, her head was on his shoulder. He turned and rested his chin on her. “But your mother loved this tree… this hill.”
“I hate this place.”
He knew she didn’t. What she hated was the hurt of being here without her mom, at becoming a teenage girl—facing life—without her mother. He hated that, too; his remaining years spent without his daughter, Annie. Nothing could fill the void; he’d never recover from losing her. But he had to say something, had to help his granddaughter grasp something positive—something meaningful—from their loss.
He studied the frayed ends and tight knots of the rope around the thickest limb overhead. He had pruned away the smaller, lower limbs so the tire swing would have clearance. The tree hadn’t been big enough for Annie—she grew up as it did—but by the time Samantha was born, it was sturdy enough. She had swung, kicking chubby, baby-fat legs, and laughed. “Push me higher!” Samantha had told Annie as he and Helen had videoed them. One of those moments when still new grandparents are about to burst with love for their child and grandchild.
Last summer, he had taken the tire down to replace the ropes. Then Annie got sick, and he and Helen went to her and Sammy in the city to tend to things. He never got around to it. That summer began the last of many things for his daughter… with his daughter. He tilted his head to one side and squinted at his granddaughter. Samantha clutched the rolled-up umbrella to her chest. Her legs were pulled in tight under the shade of the tree as if the sun’s touch was poison. He and Helen had talked to her about the melanoma that had killed her mother. Then the sadness of her mother’s death hardened into a layer of hate against the cause.
A hint of a breeze teased them. The smaller branches above swayed. “Feels good, right?” Samantha turned her face up to him and nodded. The dust the tractor had kicked up had settled on her hot cheeks, and the fresh tears had created tracks. She lowered her head and stretched her right leg to half kick at a clump of thistles too close to the tree to mow with the bush hog. Dislodged, the stems caught the wind and twirled away.
“Papaw, what about the ones floating off? You don’t see them coming down….”
“What do you mean, Sammy?”
“Mom always told me to pick one, make a wish, and blow. And you had to hold the wish in your thoughts until the thistle landed.” She sat up and spun on her rump to face him as she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “What happens to those wishes? The ones that blow away?”
He rubbed his nose and shifted his legs. He had told that folktale to Sammy’s mother when she was a child, but Annie had never asked that question. “Well, those wishes land somewhere. Wherever the wind takes them, and they carry seeds that can take root, and there, in that spot, they can grow more.” He brushed her chin with his fingertips. “So little girls and boys can find them to wish upon.”
“So, they’re not gone, not lost?”
He twisted the top off the second bottle, took a drink, and passed it to Samantha. “Have some.” She preferred the black-cherry flavor but drank and swallowed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She handed the water back, and he spun on the cap. “No, they’re not gone. Things in life move on, but the important part of them stays with you. That doesn’t change… if you decide to hold them tight. In a way, that’s called faith.”
“Are memories like that? I mean… we can only see them in our minds. But we still feel them.” She paused. The wind had picked up, and he almost didn’t catch what she added. “Like mom.”
“Yes, honey, memories are like that. But we should only keep and cherish the good ones like of your mother.” He paused; the damned sweat was in his eyes. Kerchief out again, he tilted his head back to wipe them and his brow, then folded the sodden cloth to stick back in his pocket. “Your mom’s still with us. She touched so many people’s hearts, and the memories of her are what we hold close.” He looked into his granddaughter’s eyes, so much like Annie’s. “The wind doesn’t always blow things away from us, Sammy. And what does isn’t what’s important. What remains is.”
“God damn melanoma. Goddamned cancer,” she spat.
He agreed. “Shhhh, sweetie, don’t curse. Your Mamaw will kick my butt if she hears you.” His knees told him he had sat too long as he used one hand to push up and steadied himself with the other on the tree trunk. He had brought up a handful of grass and earth in his fist and sifted through his hands. “Too dry,” he brushed a piece of bark from the tree, and it crumbled into powder. “Worst in decades,” he muttered as he rubbed a drooping leaf between thumb and forefinger. Brittle. He worried he’d lose the tree too and considered what to do to run an irrigation line up the hill.
“Papaw?” she waited a moment and tugged his pants leg. “Grandpa.”
He felt the pull as he put his hat on, squaring to sit above his eyes, and glanced down at her. “Yes, Sammy?”
“Why today?”
Thumbs in two belt loops, he hitched up his pants. “What, honey?” He reached down and held out a still strong, sinewy hand to help her stand.
“We don’t come up here anymore,” she pointed up at the tree. “Why today? When it’s so hot.”
He studied her face, framed by the scarf, the red hair, and a dusting of freckles. Her eyes when she stood were not far below his. He realized Samantha would be a tall woman like her mother, his Annie. “We lose things. Sometimes small stuff. Little things that aren’t too valuable we don’t miss. But sometimes,” he paused and thumbed the corners of his eyes again. Damned sweat, he thought. “Bad shit happens—don’t say that word, remember Mamaw—to something or someone important to us. It gets damaged, or they get hurt. They break down or get sick. Sometimes we can’t fix things or them. One day they’re gone, and some we can never replace.” He rubbed the tree’s trunk again and glanced up through the leaves. “Because they were the only ones you….” He blinked, coughed, and thumb-spun the lid off the bottle. Offering to her, she shook her head, and he drank the last. He crumpled and placed it with the cap in the cargo pocket of his pants. “They were the only one of them you’ll ever have.” He put his hands on her shoulders, “We honor what we’ve lost by taking care of what we still have,” he patted the tree again. “I see this tree, and I think of your mother.”
Samantha turned her head. “It makes me sad.”
He stood still, waited for her to look at him, and then continued. “This morning, I remembered what makes me happy and not what makes me unhappy.” He scanned around them and turned back to her. “Your mother loved this hill, this tree, and I have to care for it no matter how miserable I am. And now I’m here again, remembering the echoes of her laughter and the beauty of her smile.” He closed his eyes and sang, “In this place, full of empty space. Her soft and tender love will always shine for me.” The song trailed off as he gazed at the tree’s canopy above them, its leaves moving with the wind. He squeezed his granddaughter’s shoulders and walked toward the tractor.
Samantha thought Grandma will be happy when I tell her he’s singing again. He hadn’t done that since he sang to her mom in the hospital. She bent and plucked something from the grass, held it to her lips, and blew. The wind caught the stalks before they drifted to the ground. And bounced them up to form a line like connected train cars pulling away from them on a current of air. Before they were out of sight, she whispered, “I love you, Mom. I’ll never forget you.”
She turned to follow her grandfather. Now in the tractor’s seat, left-handed, he twisted the key and pressed the starter button. He reached down right-handed to lift the lever to raise the bush hog. As she climbed on the fender next to him, a gust of wind caught her scarf, lifting its loose twining to whirl into the sky. The umbrella unfurled and pulled from her grip, billowing open to sail high, tumbling and spinning over the hill, dancing along with her headscarf away from them in the same direction as the thistles. They watched until they, too, were gone. She squinted up at the glaring sun. He took his hat off and plunked on her head. “Here you go, kid.”
They bounced downhill, the tractor jarring on patches of uneven ground. Still thinking about what Grandpa had said, Samantha glanced over her shoulder at the tree as it got higher and smaller. She took the hat from her head and leaned over to shout so he could hear over the engine noise, “Papaw…” She put the cap on his head, careful not to pull too low over his eyes. “You need this more than me!” She leaned in again to kiss him on the cheek, and he held her with one arm, the other gripping the steering wheel. The clean wind steadied and took away the sting and ache.
He pointed up at the line of clouds bunching ahead and above. They were dense, dark, and charging on the wind toward them. “Breathe, Sammy,” he smiled, “and see what the wind’s bringing us.”
She saw the wrinkled furrows on his forehead smooth as the scudding clouds blocked the sun and cooled the sky. The wind swirled, casting the first drops. Something pirouetted before her nose, and she caught it in cupped hands and peeked inside. An intact thistle. Thinking more about what her papaw had just told her, she grinned into the wind. “Thanks, Mom!”
As a writer, you believe what you’re creating will touch someone in some way. But you send your creation out into an often silent world. Maybe it’s just not found so it can be read. After all, we live in a world where we’re inundated with information, social media shares, and posts. Pictures of cute dogs… cute cats… cute girls… and bacon. In all of that, sometimes your writing gets missed. BUT then there are times when you get a message from a reader like this. And it confirms that what you’re doing does reach some people and that it’s touched their hearts. I received this message–screen-grab below–from a reader of the excerpt from this story that I posted.
So, I posted the full story (above).
Note from Dennis
Good stories transport the reader and carry messages that resonate. They’re a compelling way to illustrate the arc of emotions we feel and maybe even come to grips with our own.
Creation in art, music, and literature is often attributed to a muse. A familiar spirit that guides and maybe even sits on a shoulder. One day, while helping select photos for a family album, I went through my oldest daughter’s wedding pictures. One of her best friends, battling cancer and gutting it out though sick, was a bridesmaid. In the weeks following the wedding, she had setbacks. The cancer had spread. And we lost Ashley. She was a brave and bright soul. As I looked at pictures of Ashley at the wedding, I recalled how hard she hugged me after my toast to the new bride and groom… and thought about our loss. And how we heal. Ashley was on my shoulder as I wrote this short story to explain how those we love are never truly gone when they pass on. The vital part of them stays with us. Forever.
Side note: The line that Samantha’s grandfather sings is from the song, ‘In This Place’ by Robin Trower in 1974.
Here are some of the reader comments:
“Great story–and very timely. I lost one of my Marine buddies this week.” –Jim Zumwalt
“Loved it. I felt like I was there…I could smell the mown grass and feel the sting of the glaring sun. I could relate to Sammy’s anger and sadness and when I read those familiar lyrics that her grandpa sang…I was hooked. It was very touching Dennis. Thank you for the thoughtful take on how we keep memories of our loved ones near and dear. The title is beautiful.” -Bobbie T.
“Superbly written.” –Gwendolyn M.
“Wow, what a bittersweet yet beautiful story of love and loss and healing… Thank you for such a poignant and touching story!” -Lisa Wolfington
“Loved your story. It made me think of loved ones that are no longer here. They will always be with me. Thank you.” -Marsha Mooneyhan
“Beautifully written, Dennis.” -Michael Koontz
“A beautiful story of loss and healing; so touching and lovely.” -Nina Anthonijsz
“Talk about tugging at the heartstrings.” -Vicki Tyley
“I love your story; it’s a touching and poignant piece.” -RC de Winter
“Left me speechless and filled with precious memories from when Mom was around. Thank you for this beautiful story.” -L. Moncivaiz
“Thank you, so much. It’s a beautiful story; a sweet and touching read. I need to explore that connection [in the story] I am glad you wrote this as it’s nudging me to explore what it is.” –AD
Many confuse Memorial Day with honoring our living veterans and currently serving servicemen and women. That’s Veterans Day. Memorial Day is about remembering and honoring those who served our country that have passed on, especially those who died while serving on active duty.
I’m a veteran who, as a professional writer and publisher, has dealt in the memories and stories of other veterans. Making sure they do not fade with time and become lost and forgotten. I’ve spoken, worked, and spent time with many of our most decorated veterans from World War II, the Korean and Vietnam wars, the Cold War, and the 21st-century War on Terror. They want to get down the What, Where, and When of life-shaping events in their lives… and often the Why. And every day—not just on Memorial Day—they want to honor those they served with who have died. Their stories achieved their purpose and deepened my appreciation for the holiday.
My friend, Jim Zumwalt, shared a perhaps apocryphal story in his book Bare Feet Iron Will | Stories from the Other Side of Vietnam’s Battlefields. In late 1968, a memorial chapel was destroyed during a Viet Cong mortar attack against Tan Son Nhut Air Base in Saigon, Vietnam. As a chaplain passed by its ruins a few days later, his eye caught the edge of an object among the rubble. He pulled it out to find a board upon which was inscribed writing of unknown origin:
Not for fame or reward,
Not for place or rank,
Not lured by ambition
or goaded by necessity,
But in simple obedience,
as they understood it.
These men suffered all,
dared all and died.
Lest we forget… lest we forget…
So, in the rubble was found something that admonishes us. Destruction and death—especially witnessed firsthand—sober and alter us. Perhaps that gives the words greater import. It makes us pause and reflect on our mortality and appreciate what we still have that others have lost. We have few ruins in the United States that evoke similar thoughts. But there are many buildings and monuments that should make us grateful for those the structure honors and value their sacrifice. The best and most lasting are those erected on firm ground, resolutely attached to a bedrock foundation beneath, stable, and able to bear great loads, withstanding wind or storm. Societies and nations are built the same way. But not with bricks and mortar. A country is made of the character of its people, manifested in its history, traditions, and the principles it espouses. Some individuals contribute more to that history—often becoming the sum and substance of a nation’s foundation—so that the ‘center does hold.’ Like mortar and stone, their blood and bone—their grit and determination—connect us.
Over two-plus centuries, our land has become dotted with remembrances in stone. Of the men and women who wore our nation’s military uniform, swearing an oath to protect and defend all we hold dear. The cloth they wore is the fabric of hopes and dreams of the past, present, and future. And many died so young… so very, very young.
“We have shared the incommunicable experience of war. We have felt, we still feel, the passion of life to its top… In our youth, our hearts were touched with fire.”—Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. (who served as a young Union soldier in our Civil War)
At Valley Forge (not a battle but a turning point in our country’s history), the Continental Army was bloodied and beaten, ready to quit… but didn’t. At Gettysburg, the Meuse-Argonne, Guadalcanal, the Battle off Samar, Leyte Gulf, Bastogne, the Battle of Chosin Reservoir, Getlin’s Corner, Khe Sanh, in the USS STARK and USS COLE, Baghdad, Fallujah, Kandahar and many other places—domestic and foreign—known and regrettably unknown, they served and died.
Their gravestones, monuments, memorials, the markers of their death, and the placards above their resting place forever call for us to remember them. Above all, these men and women should be honored this Memorial Day. No matter where they rest, they are forever rooted deeply in our nation’s bedrock—in its stone.
“They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old.
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.”
—Laurence Binyon, ‘For the Fallen’ (1914) just before the slaughter on the Western Front in WWI.
Brothers. I want to tell you about one, my friend Jim Zumwalt’s. Because not all our heroes… not all of those we should honor… die on the battlefield. Some survive and die after a full measure of life. Others come home wounded and injured and are ill-destined to fall too soon and far from where fate has placed a finger upon them. Upon commissioning in 1968, Jim’s brother, Elmo R. Zumwalt III, attended the Navy Communications Course in Newport, Rhode Island, and later reported to USS Claude B. Ricketts (DDG-5) in Norfolk as the Electronics Officer. In 1969, he volunteered to serve as a swift boat commander, one of the most dangerous assignments in Vietnam. Lieutenant JG Zumwalt took command of Swift Boat PCF-35 and, during his tour, was awarded two Bronze Stars for heroic conduct. He and his crew also received the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry for their heroism in Cambodia. Jim’s brother did—for a while—survive the war. Elmo died in August 1988 from cancer believed caused by exposure to Agent Orange. The U.S. Armed Forces in Vietnam used the defoliant and sprayed continually along the rivers he and his crew patrolled. The very thing meant to help him and his men ultimately led to his death.
The often mortal—or life-shattering—wounds of war… of service to our country are not always seen, but they are there, and we must recognize and honor those who suffered them.
I’ll share a brief vignette from Butch Neal that’s a fitting close to this perspective on Memorial Day. He told me about a chance meeting at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial as we were finishing work on his book. I knew we had to add to his story when I heard it. The Marine mentioned in it—*John Bobo, a 24-year-old posthumous Medal of Honor recipient—died providing defensive fire for his men after his leg was blown off in a battle that pitted a North Vietnamese Army (NVA) battalion of 700+ men against the approximately 150 men of Company I, Third Battalion, Ninth Marines, Third Marine Division. Only three of the seven officers in the field at the beginning of that battle walked out. Butch was one of them and afterward was awarded his first Silver Star. Here’s what he told me (that became the PostScript to end his book):
Recently, as was my custom, I stopped at the Vietnam Wall to see the names and think for a few minutes about my Brothers. As I stood in front of Panel 17E, looking at the fifteen names all clustered around row 70, a little elderly lady (a grandmother type, my age) moved almost in front of me. I was about to step back to give her more room when I realized she was one of the volunteers who helped people at the Wall find names, learn the history, etc. She was polite and said she was looking for row 70. I pointed it out to her and asked. “What name are you looking for?”
“John Bobo.” Her eyes hadn’t stopped scanning the names.
I almost fell over. I pointed to his name.
“Thank you. I’m doing a pencil etching of his name. Someone requested it on our website,” she said.
Talk about a coincidence, it’s a small world, whatever, but it was an amazing happenstance. “John was a Medal of Honor recipient,” I told her. She immediately checked her list, nodding her head when she saw that was so. “Thank you for what you’re doing,” I told her, then turned away to continue my walk, happy although it was cold, raining, and the cherry blossoms had not yet exploded. There were those—other than me—who would not let my Brothers be forgotten.
—Butch Neal
PANEL 17E
This Memorial Day, please take a moment to pay respect to—and remember—all who served like John Bobo and Elmo R. Zumwalt III and have made the ultimate sacrifice in service to our country.
*Medal of Honor Citation:
For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty as Weapons Platoon Commander, Company I, Third Battalion, Ninth Marines, Third Marine Division, in Quang Tri Province, Republic of Vietnam, on 30 March 1967. Company I was establishing night ambush sites when the command group was attacked by a reinforced North Vietnamese company supported by heavy automatic weapons and mortar fire. Lieutenant Bobo immediately organized a hasty defense and moved from position to position encouraging the outnumbered Marines despite the murderous enemy fire. Recovering a rocket launcher from among the friendly casualties, he organized a new launcher team and directed its fire into the enemy machine gun position. When an exploding enemy mortar round severed Lieutenant Bobo’s right leg below the knee, he refused to be evacuated and insisted upon being placed in a firing position to cover the movement of the command group to a better location. With a web belt around his leg serving as tourniquet and with his leg jammed into the dirt to curtail the bleeding, he remained in this position and delivered devastating fire into the ranks of the enemy attempting to overrun the Marines. Lieutenant Bobo was mortally wounded while firing his weapon into the main point of the enemy attack but his valiant spirit inspired his men to heroic efforts, and his tenacious stand enabled the command group to gain a protective position where it repulsed the enemy onslaught. Lieutenant Bobo’s superb leadership, dauntless courage, and bold initiative reflected great credit upon himself and upheld the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and the United States Naval Service. He gallantly gave his life for his country.
“All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once they grow up.” — Pablo Picasso
Here’s why—for me—this is the truth (and I know, sometimes the truth is in the beholder’s eye or ear; it’s how you see or hear it from your own perspective):
I spent over three decades burying the child-artist in me from the time I was 18 years old. Pushing something I had shown a talent for (writing) deep under a uniform (Navy) or businessman’s suit (as manager and executive working for others and then as owner of my own businesses). It was who I thought I must be to provide for my family. My brain told me so.
I had successes… and failures (adding seasoning to life) along the way. Enough success and reward for rationalizing that what I did was what I should do. And to continue doing it even though it was sucking the life out of me. But all I have lived and learned has made me who I am today. [Undoubtedly, a better writer than I would be otherwise and one who can draw upon deep and varied experience.]
I would not erase the past. But back in 2008, what was ahead concerned me. At the time, the present pressed hard because I felt my future, the vision I had for it, was fading. I was so dissatisfied, so mad at the business and professional life controlling me instead of me governing it. I changed from what I thought I had to do to what I wanted. And that was tough because I wasn’t wealthy. My wife and I’ve done well, but I also had to work and earn a living, just like most people. But if you want something enough, you can tough it out. You can take what is meaningful and fit it into your life or make it the purpose that drives you.
This, too, became a truth I can attest to. But I had to plan and execute a transition.
The backstory for you:
I could read at five and have been an avid reader all my life. I enjoyed writing but didn’t labor for years, scribbling away with unsold manuscripts or the next great American novel in a drawer or sitting on a dusty shelf. But over the years, in my correspondence, in observations on life, and even mundane business letters, staff reports, etc., many had commented on how well I wrote. [My 12th grade English teacher, Mrs. Goodwin, bless her soul, was the only teacher I had who saw something in me I wouldn’t discover in myself until 30 years after her class.] So, I enjoyed writing and the praise, but that did not trigger me to commit to writing as a pursuit or passion.
In the summer of 1978, right after my first-year orientation at the University of Arkansas, I made a life-changing decision. I joined the US Navy instead of continuing college. And for four years, I had many great (and some not-so-pleasant) experiences and traveled far. [I’ve written on some of those adventures.]
Then, for fourteen years, I was an employee/junior manager, then a manager/corporate-executive type.
Then a full-time owner and manager of challenging, capital-intensive, often stressful businesses.
From 18 to 48, I was all the above (read a bit more about my business background here). Until I had had enough of doing what I had done for so many years, enduring crushing pressure, and little genuine joy in what I did day-in-day-out. And replaced what I was doing with what I wanted to do.
I came late to the game; to the realization that writing was my vocation. When I had my epiphany, I took advice from Kipling (excerpt follows from his poem If, which I have carried in my wallet since 1992):
If you can make one heap of all your winnings,
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch.
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!
I decided writing was where my heart and soul were. And who can enjoy life separate from the two? I couldn’t, so I became who I am. A writer.
It was difficult. It took more than a year to come together. I filled all those unforgiving minutes with effort and wrote and published my first book when I was 48.
Since 2008, I’ve ghostwritten 37 nonfiction and fiction books for clients, written dozens of novellas, short stories, and vignettes, and hundreds of essays, posts, and articles. Since 2009 (through my company Adducent), I’ve helped publish 80+authors and 100 titles (as of this writing). It’s been hard work because I had to figure things out and learn along the way. In all I’ve done, I’m self-taught like Steve Jobs. And I’m still learning and getting better as a writer and a publisher. That will never stop. My business life still has its stress. If you’re self-employed, as I have been for 28+ years, you can’t avoid or eliminate that. But I control and care about my work and what I create (or help clients create).
So, here’s the thing. The above is about me, but now, what follows is for you.
Believe in your heart of hearts and work at what you want to, even if it’s while everyone else is sleeping or playing.
Stand resolute before those who doubt you (whether they say it to your face or if you know they are thinking it).
Deal with self-doubts by doing the work, whatever it may be. Action can and will handle self-doubts. Make it happen.
Deal with criticism because it will come. When it happens, take anything you can learn to improve or get better and discard the rest. Let it, the valueless husk, pass.
If you aren’t willing to do the work, to put in the time and deal with the grind, then don’t whine, worry, or complain about your life and future. Just surrender and take the easy way out, ceding control to others… to circumstances.
But if you want to control your destiny…
Do the work. Hone your craft. Learn what you need to take your life in the direction you want. If it’s important enough to you… you’ll find a way.
You can find that child in you, the one you thought was long gone. They’re there. Inside. Just sleeping… waiting for you to wake them. So, they can paint, draw, sing, write, invent, build, capture beauty with a camera… or just dance.
The child inside you can’t, and won’t, come out unless you are brave enough to let it.
I hope you are. I hope you do.
I’ll leave you with this thought from a writer and author much more famous than I…
“For what it’s worth… it’s never too late, or in my case too early, to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit. Start whenever you want. You can change or stay the same. There are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you’ve never felt before. I hope you meet people who have a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of, and if you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start over again.” –F. Scott Fitzgerald
Some of the reader comments:
“I am so motivated after reading this because I know in the next couple of years; I am going to be a counselor. Right now, I am an Accounts Payable Analyst; I get up at 5 am, go to the corporation from 8 am – 5 pm, then I go home and study until 12 – 2 am; then back up at 5 am and it starts all over again. All the while maintaining an A average in college. Just like you said, ‘Do the work.’ My dream, my goal, and my desire is to help hurting, broken people, to counsel people who are having a hard time adapting to change. Well, I need to get back to my studies. It always gives me great pleasure to read your work. Thank you. –Bernice J.
“Thanks for writing my story. Well, it would be with a few minor changes. ‘I would not erase the past.’ I so agree. The past is part of us.” –Vicki Tyley
“This is so good!” –Cilla C.
“This was awesome. Thank you Dennis Lowery for the solid valuable post!”–Ryan Best
Even the best ideas profit from planning and a thought-out approach to the proper structure before you write. Developing a nonfiction idea requires a slightly different method than fiction, as you’re dealing with actual events, facts, or existing bodies of knowledge. But storytelling remains a crucial element, especially in creative nonfiction.
Below is a plan tailored to take your nonfiction idea from inception to a robust (solid-story-structure) outline that your writing will benefit from. Included are references to books on popular methods and frameworks for additional study, research, and consideration for use.
Step 1: Identifying Purpose and Audience
By clearly defining your purpose and target audience, you set the foundational layer upon which all other aspects of your book, essay, article, or post (your work) will be built. This helps in creating content that resonates with the reader, thus enhancing its efficacy and reach.
Action:
Define the Primary Purpose: Are you looking to inform, persuade, entertain, or inspire?
Identify the Target Audience: Knowing your reader demographic can help you tailor content and tone.
Reference/Additional Reading:
‘Made to Stick’ by Chip Heath and Dan Heath for understanding how to make your message resonate.
Step 2: Methodology and Ethical Considerations
Being transparent about your research methods and ethical considerations enhances your credibility. In a genre where credibility is everything, this step is crucial for building trust with your reader and peer community.
Action:
Methodology: Detail how you’ll conduct research or gather information.
Ethical Considerations: If applicable, ensure you’re considering the ethical implications of your research and writing.
Research is fundamental in nonfiction. By identifying gaps in existing literature, you not only validate the necessity for your work but also find unique angles that make it distinctive. This increases the likelihood of your work garnering attention and fulfilling a specific need in the market.
Action:
Scope the Field: Before delving deep, get a broad overview of existing work in the topic or area.
Gap Analysis: Identify what’s missing in existing literature and how what you plan to write will fill that gap.
Reference/Additional Reading:
‘The Craft of Research’ by Wayne C. Booth, Gregory G. Colomb, and Joseph M. Williams.
Step 4: Proposition Development
A strong thesis statement gives your work focus and direction. It acts as a navigational aid, ensuring that you don’t stray off course, leading to a more tightly woven narrative or argument. This focus makes your content compelling and ensures every element serves the ultimate goal.
Action:
Craft a Core Statement: This serves as your central argument or premise (your idea or critical elements of it further expanded).
Supporting Arguments: List the key points that support your proposition.
Even in nonfiction, storytelling elements like character arcs, setting, and imagery can captivate readers. By applying these techniques, you turn a potentially dry exposition into an engaging narrative, making complex or abstract concepts more relatable and digestible.
Action:
Character Arcs: Even in nonfiction, individuals’ growth or transformation can drive the narrative.
Setting and Imagery: Rich descriptions can make abstract concepts more relatable.
Breaking down your content into manageable ‘chunks’ or subtopics can make the writing process less daunting and more organized. It helps ensure that each part is given adequate attention, which contributes to a more balanced and thorough piece of work.
Action:
Break Down Into Subtopics: Divide main points into smaller, manageable topics or sections.
Arrange and Rearrange: Use index cards or digital apps to move chunks around to improve logical flow and determine the final sequence or arrangement.
Drafting a conclusion that echoes and solidifies your thesis while providing closure gives a sense of completeness. It helps in summarizing the key takeaways and leaves the reader pondering on the broader implications, thereby increasing the lasting impact of your work.
Action:
Draft a Conclusion: Again, this should echo and solidify your idea while providing some closure on the topic.
Questions for Further Research: Pose queries or challenges that can lead to future research, writing, or sequels.
Step 8: Structural Design
Choosing an appropriate structure is akin to building a solid skeleton for your work. Whether it’s sequential, modular, or comparative, a well-thought-out structure ensures that your arguments or narratives are presented in a logical, easy-to-follow manner, thereby improving reader engagement and comprehension. Choose the structure you feel most comfortable with for your purpose (but keep in mind part of the revision process could mean re-thinking and revising your structure).
Action (Choose):
Sequential Structure: Events or arguments are laid out in a logical, chronological sequence.
Modular Structure: Each chapter or section can stand alone but collectively supports the idea.
Comparative Structure: Two or more ideas, events, or viewpoints are compared and contrasted.
Step 9: Create Detailed Chapter or Section Outlines
Creating detailed chapter or section outlines ensures that you don’t miss any critical points or arguments that support your thesis. This can significantly improve the logical flow of your work, making it easier for the reader to follow your line of thought, which in turn makes for more compelling engagement.
Action:
Point-by-Point Breakdown: For each chapter or section, detail the points you want to cover.
Real-Life Examples: Identify anecdotes, case studies, or interviews to add that will bring the text to life.
Reference/Additional Reading:
‘Storycraft’ by Jack Hart for understanding how storytelling enhances nonfiction.
Step 10: Review and Revise the Outline
This step ensures that you catch logical gaps, inconsistencies, or points that need elaboration before you dive into writing. Peer review can provide external validation and catch issues you may have missed, contributing to a polished, coherent final outline and, ultimately, a more refined work.
Action:
Self-Assessment: Review for logical inconsistencies or gaps.
Peer Review: Have someone knowledgeable in the field review your outline.
Reference/Additional Reading:
‘The Artful Edit’ by Susan Bell for understanding the importance of revisions.
Step 11 (Optional): Proposal and Additional Feedback
If you’re planning to get a book-length work traditionally published, you’ll likely need to prepare a book proposal. This can be done even at the earliest stages of nonfiction writing.
Each step in this plan contributes to refining your idea, honing your argument or narrative, and producing a well-structured, impactful nonfiction work. The steps collectively aid in aligning your content with its purpose and audience, enhancing its logical coherence, ethical soundness, and emotional resonance. This comprehensive approach significantly boosts your chances of producing a best-selling or highly impactful nonfiction work. In our experience, this level of proper planning and preparation helps craft un-put-downable writing. But each writer’s process can be unique, so feel free to adapt these suggestions to better suit your needs.
* * *
Watch for an upcoming post that takes fiction ideas from a simple thought (typically a question) to an outline that further develops the story.
Need help with developing your idea into a solid writing outline? Contact us for a free call to discuss our Development and Planning Assistance or even Ghostwriting or Re-writing services. See the types of projects we’ve worked on here.
“Just the facts, ma’am…” Los Angeles police detective Sergeant Joe Friday (actor Jack Webb) directed the witnesses he interviewed in the 50s/60s TV show Dragnet. They so often spun off into the realm of creative nonfiction, and he and his partner had no time for that. But those with compelling true stories should write their story in just that way and bring it to life for the reader.
Do you have a writing project and can’t decide if it’s better told as creative nonfiction? Or do you need some help getting started? We can help.
For those who choose NOT to hire a writer but need advice and guidance on writing, story development, and publishing or self-publishing, we offer consulting. We have a lot of experience you can benefit from affordably.
You’ve got a story. A good one. The kind that only a few can tell. You’ve served. Seen things. Done things. You’ve got tales tucked away. It’s time to share them.
Enter STANDFAST, a story development service and publishing imprint from Adducent focused solely on veterans of the military, special operations, and intelligence community. Been in business since 2000; we know stories. More importantly, we know how to tell them or help others tell their story. You’re not a bystander in this… your experiences… they’re gold. You bring the story. We bring the expertise. Writing assistance or ghostwriting if needed, editing, publishing—we’ve got it all. And can put it to work for you.
Why? Because your stories aren’t just personal. They’re lessons, legacies, and a heck of an adventure. They’re about honor, sacrifice, and what it means to serve.
This is about more than just books. It’s about bringing your story to life. It’s about making sure your voice isn’t just heard—it’s felt.
So, if you’re ready to tell the world your story, STANDFAST is your means to make it a reality. Let’s do it.
A slideshow of scenes created in the research and development stage for a 2025 fiction project, a generational story that begins at the Siege of Yorktown in 1781 and takes us to present day.
Our authors and clients are Admirals, Generals, other high-ranking military, CEOs and Senior Executives (including former CEOs, Chairmen, and SVPs of multibillion-dollar NYSE companies), retired members of Congress, and the United States Intelligence Community, Foreign Policy & Defense Industry Professionals, Government / Intelligence & Security Agency Professionals, University Professors, Scientists, Doctors, Surgeons, Attorneys, Entrepreneurs, and Business Professionals. Several clients (authors) have appeared on PBS NewsHour, 60 Minutes, and other TV and radio shows nationally and in their local markets.
Adducent is a creative company that provides story and book consulting, planning and development, writing (including ghostwriting), editing, publishing, and story art services to clients internationally.
Our production and distribution partner, Ingram, has announced their global network now covers nearly 50% of the global population! That established retail connectivity within each region enables our author’s books to reach readers worldwide.
Here are fifteen of our titles written by retired Flag & General Officers of the United States Armed Forces:
Drawing on nearly 50 years of experience with the Senate confirmation process, Punaro has written this one-of-a-kind book chronicling the Senate’s constitutional advice and consent role. This book serves as a reference guide for both military and civilian national security nominees who find themselves about to face the confirmation gauntlet. Readers will walk away with a better understanding of how the U.S. government really functions and how to be successful should they find themselves on the opposite side of the Senate dais.
Punaro offers unique insights into the good, the bad, and the ugly about the process and how it has changed over time. He proposes innovative and practical solutions to fix this increasingly dysfunctional system. Ensuring that America gets the best people into these critical positions of power is fundamental to our national security and our nation’s success now and in the future.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Arnold L. Punaro is a retired Major General (USMC), who spent 24 years working in the U.S. Senate (1973-1997), including 14 years as the Staff Director of the Senate Armed Services Committee. He has been a confirmation advisor to the Senate, Department of Defense, and other Executive Branch agencies since 1997. He has been involved with myriad high-level nominations including 12 Secretaries of Defense, 12 Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairmen, over 40 Service Chiefs, and more than 2,000 civilian officials. Currently CEO of The Punaro Group, he is a top industry executive and continues to serve on numerous boards and commissions focused on national security.
PRAISE FOR ‘IF CONFIRMED’
“The selection and preparation of nominees for top positions at DOD is a mixture of science and art. It is also a mysterious process, even for Beltway insiders—until now. Arnold Punaro always tackles topics in military affairs that are under-examined. In this case, he covers subjects that literally no one in the world knows more about: the processes of nominating, confirming, and appointing top brass at the Pentagon. These are important topics, considering that every American has an intrinsic interest in leadership selection outcomes at the nation’s largest, most complicated, and by many measures, most important agency.” —Dr. Matthew Auer, Dean and Arch Professor of Public and International Affairs, School of Public and International Affairs, University of Georgia.
“With If Confirmed, General Punaro masterfully distills the wisdom and insights accumulated from a career intimately involved in the confirmation of thousands of civilian and military leaders. I have seen General Punaro’s candor save-the-day repeatedly over the years. Whether for nominees, policy enthusiasts, or public servants, this book is an essential primer on the history and inner workings of a critical component of American governance.” —The Honorable Barbara Barrett, Former Secretary of the Air Force; Former Ambassador to Finland.
“There is literally no one alive better able to comment on the nomination and confirmation process in both the Executive and Legislative Branches for military and civilian nominees who must pass through the Senate Armed Services Committee and the Senate floor. I also served as the staff director of the Armed Services Committee, and I relied on Arnold’s expertise and advice to help me navigate the complicated and, at times, very difficult process of guiding or stopping nominees from confirmation. He is simply the master. None better, in my opinion. Arnold has a command of the history, back door deals, trials, and process rules that no one else can claim. This is a must-read book for those wishing to be confirmed and those trying to help them achieve that goal.” —John Bonsell, Former Staff Director of the Senate Armed Services Committee.
“The Senate’s confirmation power is found in a brief clause of the Constitution’s Article One. In today’s Washington, the process now requires a complex legal and political navigation for even the most qualified candidates nominated to serve. No guide is more experienced or knowledgeable than Arnold Punaro, and If Confirmed is must reading for citizens and candidates wanting to understand what exactly is ‘advise and consent.’” —The Honorable Rudy De Leon, Senior Fellow of National Security & International Policy, Center for American Progress; Former Deputy Secretary of Defense; Former Under Secretary of Defense for Personnel and Readiness; Former Under Secretary of the Air Force; Former Staff Director of the House Armed Services Committee.
“There is no one who has a better understanding of the Senate confirmation process than Arnold Punaro. He has assisted countless senior officials in navigating the process. I was fortunate to be one of the individuals he coached, mentored, and prepared for Senate confirmation hearings. I found his counsel to be “pure gold.” Those interested in the process will find this book informative. For those willing to serve in a confirmed position and preparing for a hearing, this book demystifies the process and provides invaluable insight. It reflects Arnold’s decades of experience, his deep understanding of the process and the Senate, and his gift for clarity.” —General Joe Dunford, USMC (Ret); Former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff; Former Commandant of the Marine Corps.
“Leave it to Washington’s most trusted expert to identify a significant gap in knowledge and so masterfully provide vital insight for those seeking to lead federal agencies at the commander-in-chief’s request. There is no better or more respected practitioner with such unparalleled views deep from the policy foxholes of Washington D.C. on the intricacies of the Senate confirmation process than the intrepid Arnold Punaro. A trusted colleague to all, Arnold’s shared wisdom built on a 40-year proficiency of intimately shepherding novices through the good, bad, and the ugly of the confirmation process is the key that will unlock the doors to many futures in the next generation.” —Mackenzie Eaglen, Senior Fellow, American Enterprise Institute.
“Arnold Punaro’s nearly 50 years of experience and expertise in this arena is unmatched. Navigating the Senate confirmation process can be daunting without the right support. Thanks to Arnold and his team, I was well prepared for my own hearings to become secretary of the Army and secretary of defense. More importantly, Arnold has always worked in a bipartisan fashion with senior military and civilian nominees alike to do what’s best for our country. I can think of no better person to write this much-needed book.” —The Honorable Dr. Mark Esper, Former Secretary of Defense; Former Secretary of the Army.
“The confirmation process has become torturous. Arnold Punaro has participated in this from every possible direction. If Confirmed is valuable, either for surviving the current process or as a guide to improve it going forward.” —The Honorable John J. Hamre, Ph.D.,President, CEO and Langone Chair in American Leadership ofCenter for Strategic and International Studies; Former Deputy Secretary of Defense; Former Under Secretary of Defense Comptroller.
“If you are interested in understanding, guiding others in navigating, or are participating yourself as a nominee in the oft-bewildering, sometimes maddening, but absolutely critical Senate confirmation process for defense officials, there is absolutely no individual with more experience, knowledge, insights, or field craft regarding every part of the process than Arnold Punaro. You want him in your foxhole and this fine book puts him there with you. Arnold helped me in my own nomination process and then in successfully winning confirmation of countless nominees to Department of Defense positions thereafter, including no shortage of politically fraught and procedurally challenging instances. He is a master.” —The Honorable Stephen Hedger, Former Assistant Secretary of Defense for Legislative Affairs; Former Special Assistant to the President for Senate Affairs.
“I can’t think of anyone better than Washington insider Arnold Punaro to outline the do’s, the don’t’s as well as the good, bad and ugly of the confirmation process. From his time in the Senate to his time in the military to his time as an advisor helping thousands of nominees, Punaro knows the process from the inside out. If Confirmed offers a must-read history and playbook for anyone wishing to serve at the highest levels of government.” —The Honorable Debbie Lee James, Former Secretary of the Air Force; Former Assistant Secretary of Defense for Reserve Affairs; Former President of Technical and Engineering Sector, SAIC.
“If Confirmed is an unprecedented, one-of-a-kind guide to navigate the Senate confirmation process, written by a genuine master of that process. I have been through three Senate confirmations, and there is no better coach than General Arnold Punaro. Arnold knows the issues, the process, the personalities who run the process, and the minefields to avoid. When necessary, Arnold is not afraid to cut a presidential nominee down to size in preparation for cross-examination by a United States senator. I have been ‘murdered’ by Arnold more than once and lived to talk about the experience. Above all, Arnold is the consummate Washington insider, who, year after year, knows everything and everybody in the close-knit national security community.” —The Honorable Jeh Johnson, Former Secretary of Homeland Security; Former Department of Defense General Counsel; Former General Counsel of the Department of the Air Force.
“I have known and served with the author since 1979 and know of no one who has so willingly and consistently given freely of his time and effort to making our national security organizations better. His first two books are “must read and retain” efforts, and this one is no different. In fact, because it touches on the thousands of candidates for public office who require Senate confirmation, this book is, at once, an expert education of one of the most important rites of passage to government positions, and it also reveals the intensely personal pressures and results of the confirmation process itself. There have been those who turned down the opportunity for a trial run by the author and his committee of experts. Most have lived to regret that decision. The overwhelming majority of those who subjected themselves to this advanced course of confirmation preparation, sometimes more than once, were successful in being confirmed. Put this book on your bookshelf for future use, either for yourself or perhaps for someone you know who has been nominated to an office that requires U.S. Senate confirmation.” —General James L. Jones, USMC (Ret); Former U.S. National Security Advisor; 32nd Commandant of the Marine Corps; Former Commander, U.S. European Command and Supreme Allied Commander Europe.
“Arnold Punaro’s experience in the layered world of Senate confirmations is singular, spanning multiple administrations. A trusted advisor to generations of Department of Defense leaders, he has helped countless officials navigate the unpredictable politics and sometimes difficult process of getting through the U.S. Senate. This is the book that Arnold had to write, as there is no equal to the experience, perspective, and insight that he brings to this issue.” —Louis Lauter, Former Acting Assistant Secretary of Defense for Legislative Affairs.
“In If Confirmed, Arnold Punaro gives an informed insider’s account of the history of the Senate confirmation process for nominees in the national security world, as well as providing a guide for current nominees and suggestions on how to make the system work more effectively. We need our most dedicated and talented people to serve in these important Senate-confirmed positions, and if our confirmation system continues to become more sclerotic and less productive, it will harm our ability to attract and retain the right people for these demanding jobs. If Confirmed is a comprehensive look at a topic that is as important as it is complex.” —The Honorable General James N. Mattis, USMC (Ret); Former Secretary of Defense; Former Commander of U.S. Central Command.
“Every nominee, and potential nominee, needs to read and heed Arnold Punaro’s sage advice. His deep and diverse career of service at the very highest levels of the Senate and the Pentagon brings him unparalleled insight and an unmatched understanding of the often uncertain and politically charged confirmation journey. Arnold’s prudent counsel has singularly ensured countless nominees successfully navigated their Senate confirmation with ease—ensuring needed continuity of key national security posts across administrations and party lines.” —Laura McAleer, Former Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Senate Affairs; Former National Security Advisor at the U.S. Senate; Associate Vice President, Federal & Washington Relations at the University of Notre Dame.
“Arnold Punaro is unparalleled in his knowledge of the Senate confirmation process and his ability to prepare a political or uniformed nominee to testify in front of the Senate Armed Services Committee.” —The HonorableRyan D. McCarthy, Former Secretary of the Army; Former Under Secretary of the Army.
“If Confirmed provides a rare glimpse behind the curtain into a process with far-reaching national security implications. Any prospective nominee would be well-served by examining Arnold Punaro’s lessons learned and strategies for navigating Senate confirmations. Demystifying pathways into government service, especially with respect to the Senate confirmation process, will help ensure that our nation has qualified candidates prepared to serve at the highest levels.” —Jamie Jones Miller, CEO and Dean, Northeastern University Arlington Campus; former Principal Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Legislative Affairs.
“A few times in your life, you find the expert in an area where only a very few exist. Arnold Punaro spent a greater part of his career helping others, including myself, get confirmed by the United States Senate for all matters regarding our national security. Beforehand, he was the lead in determining who would “be anointed” by the Senate Armed Services Committee for literally every Senate-confirmed position in the Department of Defense. Arnold is a culmination of experience and knowledge in this daunting process. His work to bring in the very best to serve our country continues today. Anyone going through it, either as a nominee or one who works to get highly qualified people into these critical government positions, will serve themselves well to read this book.” —The Honorable Jim Morhard, Former Deputy NASA Administrator; Former Deputy Sergeant at Arms of the United States Senate; Former Staff Director, Senate Appropriations Committee.
“I am one of the many who benefited from Arnold Punaro’s preparation for a confirmation hearing. In my case, to be secretary of Veterans Affairs. His long history with and deep knowledge of the process was evident. This book, If Confirmed, is a wonderful contribution to those who are called upon to serve our country. It is valuable in context, expectation setting, and for framing one’s thoughts in responding to the many stakeholders in the nomination and confirmation process. Arnold Punaro is singularly qualified to bring all aspects of the process together, which he does in this readable and eminently useful book. It is a “must read” for any embarking on the journey of service in the Executive Branch.” —The Honorable James B. Peake, M.D. Lieutenant General, USA (Ret.); Senior Vice President, CGI Federal; former Secretary of Veterans Affairs.
“The ultimate guide on the confirmation process from the ultimate guide through it! Arnold Punaro brings unmatched experience, expertise, and insights to this subject. I benefited from his wisdom and guidance in preparing for four Senate confirmations (as well as several high-stakes hearings), and this book will be invaluable to any nominee for high office or any individual helping a nominee navigate the confirmation process.” —The Honorable General David Petraeus, U.S. Army (Ret.); former Commander of the Surge in Iraq, U.S. Central Command, and Coalition Forces in Afghanistan; Former Director of the CIA; Co-author (with Andrew Roberts) of Conflict: The Evolution of Warfare from 1945 to Ukraine.
“Arnold Punaro has amassed a lifetime of wisdom in the process of Senate confirmation. With well over a half-century of service to our nation, he shares that wisdom in If Confirmed. This book is indispensable for anyone set to embark on that process or interested in this critical function of the American government.” —The Honorable Patrick Shanahan, Former Deputy Secretary of Defense.
“The Senate confirmation process has become more contentious over time, and yet, we need capable leaders who can enter public service and take on the challenging roles facing our nation. There is no more qualified servant to the nation than Arnold Punaro in preparing leaders for this grueling process. Punaro has the experience, expertise, and reputation for developing nominees to engage this process with legitimacy and a focus on the benefits they will contribute to the country. Punaro’s book will become THE source for preparing and fulfilling the responsibilities of this important and increasingly difficult process.” —Dr. David M. Van Slyke, Dean and Louis A. Bantle Chair in Business-Government Policy, The Maxwell School of Citizenship and Public Affairs, Syracuse University.
“General Punaro has shepherded my confirmations from assistant secretary to the cabinet. In my first tour at the Pentagon, I put the nomination of Robert Gates in his safe hands. No one knows the history and traditions of the Senate nor has better relationships on both sides of the aisle than Arnold Punaro. He is a patriot and a Washington institution. The trust he has from conservatives and liberals harkens back to a better, more civil time in the nation’s capital. Wish there were more like him.” —The Honorable Robert Wilkie, Former Secretary of Veterans Affairs; Former Under Secretary of Defense for Personnel and Readiness; Former Assistant Secretary of Defense for Legislative Affairs.
“I have had the pleasure of knowing Arnold since the early 1970s and sat with him on the ‘murder board’ process. In addition to a unique commitment to wanting to make the DOD and government work better, what sets Arnold apart in my mind are his remarkable instincts to understand relevant issues and shape them to reach better outcomes. When he brings these talents to help the extremely capable people nominated for senior positions in the government improve their prospects for confirmation in the contentious atmosphere, such nominations are too often considered, and the country benefits.” —The Honorable Kim Wincup, Former Assistant Secretary of the Army for Manpower and Reserve Affairs; Former Assistant Secretary of the Air Force for Acquisition; Former Staff Director of the House Armed Services Committee.
![Leaving Taos [Flashfiction]](https://adducentcreative.com/wp-content/uploads/LEAVING-TAOS-2023-Flashfiction-from-Dennis-Lowery-2-768x1226.jpg "Leaving Taos [Flashfiction]")
![What The Wind Blew Away [Fiction]](https://adducentcreative.com/wp-content/uploads/What-the-Wind-Blew-Away-2024-Short-Fiction-By-Dennis-Lowery-2-768x1226.jpg "What The Wind Blew Away [Fiction]")
