Losing My Best Teacher

It’s hard for me to write today, but I want to take a few minutes to share with you a loss that is affecting me deeply.

As I was growing up, when I didn’t understand something happening in the world around me, I’d ask my Dad about it.  As often as not, he’d wind up telling me a lot about the history that led up to the event I had asked about.  His passion for that history was infectious, and it was only natural that I follow in his footsteps as an historian.

Last week, my Dad died, taking with him a lifetime of accumulated knowledge, things that he’d delved deeply into, information he’d spent long hours poring through in order to come to a deeper understanding of what lay behind some event that had grabbed his attention.

I’ll miss being able to ask him for guidance, and all I can do is to try to live up to his example.  As you read my books, if it seems that I’ve gotten fascinated with some obscure aspect of the story, know that you’re hearing my Dad’s voice in my writing, and that his passion for the details of history inspired me to dig further.

I’m deeply grateful for the experience of having had such a fine teacher, and I hope that I am able to live up to his example.

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