“Why oh why
Why oh why do
They have to
Why oh why do
They do it
Why oh why
Its it so outrageous
When they
KISS!!!”
(The poem “Kiss” from the illustrated book of poems that 7-year old Yarmouth resident Everett Hardcastle prepared as a Christmas gift for his grandparents.)
“I’ll never forget how impressed and fascinated I was with diatoms when I observed plankton for the first time under the microscope.”
(From the Prologue in his new illustrated pamphlet, “The Awesome Diatoms” by 89-year old Brunswick resident Claude R. Bonang.)
I had been considering writing a column encouraging people to write when I came across these two writings in the space of 24 hours. I love the juxtaposition of two creative people, separated in age by more than eight decades, wanting to tell and share their stories. For free. No book agents. No Amazon pitch. No branding strategy.
Every so often — well, once or twice in my life — people tell me I should write a book. Actually, I’ve written two books: “The History of Mere Point, Maine,” along with co-author Phil Cantelon, and “Full Speed Ahead: The Life and Legacy of Kate Ireland.” The first book is not available for sale although someone told me they spotted a copy at Twice Told Tales in Brunswick. The second is available at one book store in the entire world: The Bookshelf in Thomasville, Georgia. Not exactly a booming portfolio. I’d love to write a novel or a short story or a play, but I’ve yet to come up with a good idea; something tells me that that might be a problem.
But, and here’s what prompted me to write this article, every person has a story. Every life is, in fact, a story, a collection of events, some happy, some sad; some lucky, some not; some earthshaking, some banal. And I do think it’s important for each of us to record our own individual story for our offspring or, if nothing else, for ourselves.
I did get my mother to write about various aspects of her life — on school, on her sisters, on her love of books and so on. And I got my father to write down his memories of “The War Years,” when he worked on the Manhattan Project in Hanford, Washington. I wish I had urged more; I wish they had written more.
I never really understood, for example, what it was like for my mother during her childhood as her dad died when she was only six years old, leaving her mother with four daughters to raise and zero life insurance? What was it like to live in NYC and write for Life magazine in the 1930s? How did my dad’s parents react when their middle son died? Or how did my dad feel entering MIT at age 16, having to commute to Cambridge by bus from Lexington, where he lived with his Uncle Morris.
I plan to write my own story this year for my two sons and their kids. They can do what they want with it. At least they might understand me a little better. And I’ll feel good having written it.
I also plan to write to each of my two sons about their own lives and growth from my perspective. After all, now is not the time to hold back.
All that said, I realize that many, perhaps most, people have an overinflated sense of how interesting their life story is beyond the boundaries of their immediate families. My Aunt Faith was totally distraught when the Radcliffe alumnae office refused to accept her “papers.” On the other hand, most people are interested in their parents’ lives and, even more, in those of their ancestors. Just look at the popularity of Ancestry.com and other genealogy sites.
So….I challenge readers of this column — and myself — to put pen to paper or fingers fo keyboard and write about your lives, while you’re still able to do it. You have nothing to lose and a lot to gain. Just ask Everett Hardcastle or Claude Bonang.
David Treadwell, a Brunswick writer, welcomes commentary and suggestions for future “Just a Little Old” columns. dtreadw575@aol.com.
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