Hello all. I've been working this summer in Maine and journeying to Vermont to discuss my latest writings with my Editor. The above photo shows the 2 of us next to a mountain near Warren, VT.
I'm writing a book about my late brother, Bancroft R. Wheeler, while at the same time, I'm writing some essays. Here is my Preface on my Essay Book:
Getting Away – Again!
“…a man is always a teller of tales, he lives surrounded by his stories and the stories of others, he sees everything that happens to him through them; and he tries to live his life as if he were telling a story.” ...Jean-Paul Sartre
Although I’ve certainly not lived my life as if I were telling a story, I do enjoy telling stories—and have led an interesting, busy, and productive life—so far. As the writer, Robert Caro said in his recent book, WORKING:
Why am I publishing this book now …while I’m still—at the age of eighty-three—several years from finishing it?
The answer is, I’m afraid, quite obvious …I may never get to write that memoir …I decided that, just in case, I’d put some of them [anecdotes] down on paper now.
At age eighty-five, I, too, have decided I must keep on writing—and editing— and publishing— what my editor and I deem worthy.
I wasn't much of a reader in my younger days but do remember one of my favorite childhood books, “Paddle to the Sea,” in which an American Indian boy carves a small figure in a canoe he names ‘Paddle to the Sea.’ Paddle travels from the Great Lakes to the Atlantic Ocean with wonderful illustrations depicting the voyage. I read that book over and over again and longed to become as adventurous as that little boy.
Since I’ve travelled much in my adult life, I was once accused of hiding my head in the sand (like an ostrich) to get away from problems in my business and home. I’ve been on the go since I was a small boy and learned how to ride a bicycle. That bright red Columbia bike was my transportation around and out of the village of Moosup, Connecticut. I spent lots of time on it, even as I learned how to fly and drive—both of which I did at ages 14 and 13, respectively.
I met Pat on a blind date in Richmond, Virginia in 1956 and three days after we were married on November 30, 1957, we were skiing on the Zugspitze in Bavaria and a week later, I was back commanding a U.S. Army Quartermaster company in France. Pat has a wide variety of interests and enjoys travel almost as much as I do. Together, She and I have four adult-children and eight grandchildren—all vastly different and fun to be with.
I have learned how to fly, cruised and raced sailboats, skied on a college ski team, moved a textile company from New England to the South, founded a screen-printing company in Hong Kong, managed (with Pat) a live theatre, and written a number of books. Along the way I’ve enjoyed telling stories and writing about my life.
The following essays, some of which have appeared in my blogs, (henrymorganhaskell.com) expand on things I’ve done—in no particular order. When someone asked Pat if I was a great writer, she replied, “Hank writes!” I did not take her remark as a put-down as I knew she meant some people talk a good game, but her husband is both a doer and a writer about things he’s done and is interested in. I don’t consider myself a gifted-writer, but writing has always been one of my life’s joys. I was fortunate to meet a man in college who became a distinguished college English professor and shared many of the same interests I do. We’ve been friends for years and he has edited most of my books. Let’s start with that story