A children's story, written long ago...

 My recent discovery of digital data that I thought had been forever lost has been like Christmas for me. I'm still opening presents! Among the many previously unpublished short stories (and more) is this, written on an old Compaq "luggable" computer, on 5 1/4-inch floppy disk. Wow, to think I wrote major passages of books on that machine.

"Pirate's Cove" was dedicated to, and very much about, my daughters Rachel and Katy, before their brother Calvin came along. To think Rachel has children of her own now, Bella and Livvie, Katy has Vivienne, and Cal is living in a Buddhist temple in Japan...
(Intro updated on March 15, 2020)

PIRATE'S COVE

by

G. Wayne Miller

1.

One summer, Rachel and Katy's mom and dad had squirreled a little extra money away. They decided to rent a cottage in Maine for two weeks. It was a big old place right on the coast and it had three chimneys, two gables and a big red barn. Dana Holbrook, the caretaker, said a sea captain had built it back in those long-ago days when all the ships had sails.

``Is it haunted?'' Rachel, 9, asked Dana, who was opening the cottage up. The Mortons had arrived that afternoon from Connecticut, where they lived in an almost-new house.

``Nope,'' said Dana.

``Not even by a friendly ghost?'' said Katy, who was 5. Already, she wasn't too sure she wanted to sleep in the kids' room on the second floor. It was too close to the attic, which had a single window with a faded blue curtain.

``Not even by a friendly ghost,'' said Dana. ``But I know about a cove where a pirate buried gold. Maybe tonight, when you're all moved in, I could tell you the story.''

2.

Dana was a very nice man, the Mortons quickly decided. In the winter, he taught seventh and eighth grade in the elementary school, which had only 45 students, total. In the summer, he was a caretaker for several places. He also went lobstering every day. He lived just down the road in a house almost identical to the one the Mortons had rented.

``Can you tell us about the pirates now?'' Rachel said that evening after dinner, when Dana dropped by to check on how everything was going.

``That's up to your folks, I reckon.''

``Please, Dad?'' Katy said. Her hair was blonde, her eyes very green, and when she opened them wide like that, it was hard to refuse.

``Please, mom?'' said Rachel. She had brown hair, pretty pink eyeglasses and an angelic face, and it was just as hard to turn her down.

``OK,'' Mrs. Morton said.

``So long as it's not too scary,'' Mr. Morton added.

``Not scary 'tall,'' said Dana, settling into a chair. He was a big man, with long sandy hair, a beard with flecks of gray in it, and hands as big as baseball gloves.

``Leastaways, my kids never thought so.''

3.

``His name was Black Skull,'' Dana began, ``and his father was a minister, his mother a seamstress.''

``What's a seamstress?'' Katy piped up.

``Someone who sews,'' said Mr. Morton. ``Now, shush. Let Mr. Holbrook finish his story.''

``There were six boys and six girls in his family,'' Dana went on, ``and all were highly quiet and reserved sorts. Only Black Skull seemed to march to the beat of a different drummer. At the age of 16, he left his home in Blue Hill -- that's just up the coast here, as you know from driving in, girls -- took the stage coach all the way down to New Bedford, and shipped out on the whaling vessel Bonnie B. Goode, which happened to have been captained by a gentleman from Maine.''

``Just like Moby Dick!'' Rachel said.

``Ayuh, just like the good Captain Ahab himself. For six years, Black Skull -- who was still called by his Christian name, Billy Bartlett -- was at sea, plying his trade all over the world. He was making good money, and like the good Mainer he was, he was stowing it away, thinking some day he might captain a vessel of his own. For if Black Skull was anything, he was the finest seaman around.''

4.

Dana crossed and uncrossed his big legs, and then he crossed and uncrossed his arms. ``You wouldn't by any chance happen to have a cold one there in the rah-fridge-ear-ay-tuh?'' he said. Dana pronounced a lot of his words like they were from a foreign language, Katy and Rachel thought.

``To wet your whistle?'' said Mr. Morton. He was trying very hard to sound like Dana, but it wasn't working so hot, the girls thought.

``Ayuh.''

Mr. Morton brought a beer for Dana, and one for himself. Mrs. Morton was sipping a glass of wine. The girls had tall tumblers of Cokes, which was an especially big treat, what with Mrs. Morton's concerns about sugar and caffeine.

``Now where was I?'' Dana said. ``Ayuh. I was up to the part where Black Skull's boat was sunk.

``So here he was, having worked himself up to first mate -- that's one step below captain, as you know, girls -- when one day, as they were off the coast off Patagonia -- that's way down South America way, as you may not know -- they were attacked by the worst sort of blood-thirsty pirates.''

``Was anybody killed?'' Rachel said.

``Did the boat sink?'' said Katy.

5.

Dana took a generous swallow of beer and allowed: ``No to the first question, yes to the second. The pirates, who were heavily armed, plundered Black Skull's ship, taking all their gold. Then they put Black Skull and his crew in a dinghy -- that's nothing but a pipsqueak of a boat -- and cast them lose. Before they sailed away, they set the Boonie B. Goode afire.''

``Poor boat,'' Katy said.

``Poor Black Skull,'' said Rachel.

``Ayuh,'' said Dana. ``But it could have been much worse. Through some stroke of luck -- we all can use a stroke or two of luck every now and again, can't we girls? -- Black Skull and his men made it to the coast. After several months, they even made it back to Maine.

``Now, as you might imagine, it had been a trying experience for the men, and all but Black Skull decided they'd had enough of the sea. One became a cobbler--''

``What's a cobbler?'' Katy piped up.

``Someone who fixes shoes,'' Mrs. Morton said. ``Now shush.''

``And one became a merchant and the captain, who'd made more than one fortune, decided to retire. He took his wife and children and made himself a big house. And you're sitting in it now, the house the captain of the Bonnie B. Goode built.''

6.

``Wow!'' Katy said.

``What happened to Black Skull?'' Rachel said.

``Funny you should ask,'' said Dana. ``Black Skull never could forget how they'd all almost died, cast adrift like that hundreds of miles in the middle of nowhere. He vowed revenge on that scurvy band of pirates and with an expedition in mind, he went to the U.S. Navy. But the Navy wasn't interested in chasing pirates way off the coast of South America -- although I suppose it would've been different if it'd been the American coast -- so Black Skull was out of luck there.

``In fact, it seemed he was out of luck everywhere. Time went by, and it became clear if Black Skull was to have his way, he'd have to marshal his own resources.

``Lord knows how, but somehow he managed to borrow enough money to buy a boat of his own. It wasn't anything special, only a two-master, sixty feet if that, but it would do. Using his savings, he outfitted her with salt cod and limes and water and hardtack -- that's a fancy name for biscuits, girls -- and then he brought aboard a trunk full of muskets and three old cannons he'd bought second-hand. He raised the American flag and, beside it, a black skull against white. That's how he got his name, as you might have guessed. Lord knows how, but he managed to get a crew of a dozen men, as well. I suspect he made the rounds of saloons, bearing promises of easy gold.''

7.

Dana was warming up to his story now.

``They sailed on Christmas morn and they made decent time, arriving off South America in under two months. Their luck was good. Within a week, they'd found that pirate ship, lying in wait for a Spanish boat loaded with gold doubloons. Black Skull fired a warning shot with one of his cannons. The pirates were in retreat. But they were not fast enough for Black Skull. In under an hour, he had 'em broadside. The pirates surrendered.''

``Did he sink their ship?'' Rachel said.

``Did he kill the pirates?'' Katy chirped up.

``Yes to the first and no to the second. Just as they'd done to him, he set the pirates loose in their dinghy and said, `Good luck, you're on your own now.' Or something to that effect; I imagine his actual words were a might more blunt. As they were going through the ship, they found--''

``Gold?'' Rachel said.

``Ayuh, chests and chests full of gold. There was gold jewelry, gold doubloons, gold bars from the Incas and the Aztecs and the Amazons. But they also found something else.''

``What?'' said Katy.

``Kids,'' said Dana. ``Two little kids: a boy and a girl, not much older than you yourselves.''

8.

``Where'd they come from?''

``From another boat they'd plundered, naturally,' Dana said. ``Why the pirates had let them live -- never mind brought them on board -- were questions no one could ever answer. My own guess is they planned to raise them for slaves.

``Now Black Skull -- who, as you might recall, came from a family of 12 -- was immediately taken with the children. He knew how lonely and sad they must have been, orphaned so sudden and cruel like that. And so, just before he sent that pirates' ship to Davy Jones locker, he adopted those kids as his own.''

``He was very nice,'' Katy said.

``I suspect any man worth his salt would have done the same. Like I told you, Black Skull was a good pirate. Weren't never any other kind to come from the state of Maine.''

``Is that the end of the story?'' Rachel said.

9.

``Almost,'' Dana said. ``All that's left is to tell you what Black Skull did with his gold. When he got back to Maine, he paid off his crew handsomely -- not a one ever had to work another day in his life -- and then he buried what was left -- chests and chests of gold -- in his secret cove. He built a house down the road a bit and set about raising his children. Once a year, when he needed money, he would go to his secret cove -- all alone, of course -- and dig up only what he needed. Legend has it that when he died, there was still seven chests left.''

``Awesome!'' Rachel said.

``Where's the gold now?'' Katy said.

``I figured you'd ask that,'' said Dana. ``Still somewhere in that cove. As to where, exactly, no one knows -- though that hasn't stopped folks from looking. I bet your folks might even let you look one of these days. And while you may never find Black Skull's gold, I can guarantee you'll find the best hard-shell clams anywhere on the East Coast. Make a fine chowder. You like chowder, girls?''

``Yuk,'' they said together.

``We like Spaghetti-Os.''

``We like chowder,'' said Mr. Morton.

``Love it, in fact,'' said his wife. ``With lobster.''

``Good enough,'' Dana said. ``'Course, you won't find Pirate's Cove on any map. Only the old-timers know where 'tis.''

Before he bid them goodnight, Dana gave the Mortons directions to Pirate's Cove.

10.

Two days later, after checking the tide chart, Mr. Morton and Rachel and Katy set off for Pirate's Cove. Mrs. Morton was gone for the day. She'd looked up an old college friend in Bangor and the two of them were off for some shopping.

The path to Pirate's Cover was an old fire road, but it had been years since it had been cut back. Pines and oaks formed a canopy overhead, blotting out the bright blue sky. Mr. Morton had to be careful not to let branches snap in the girls' faces as they started toward the sea.

``Look, Dad, blueberries!'' Rachel said.

``Maybe another day we can pick some,'' Mr. Morton said. ``Today we're going for clams.''

``And gold,'' said Katy.

``Silly, there isn't any gold,'' said Rachel. ``And there wasn't any Black Skull. That was just a story, right Dad?''

``I don't know about that,'' said Mr. Morton. ``I kind of believed Mr. Holbrook.''

``Dad...''

``Look,'' he said. ``There's the cove, straight ahead. Be careful on those rocks, girls.''

11.

The cove was even prettier than Dana had described. There were no houses anywhere in sight, only a thick blanket of evergreen bordering the rocks. Below the rocks was the beach: white sand littered with mussel and clam shells. The tide was low. Kelp was everywhere. The flats extended out toward a small island. At low-low tide, Dana had said, you could walk over.

``Perfect for clams,'' Mr. Morton said.

``Perfect for hermit crabs,'' said Rachel.

``Perfect for gold,'' said Katy. ``I hope I find a gold bracelet.''

The girls, each with a shovel and bucket, fanned out across the flats. Mr. Morton started digging with his rake. Dana hadn't been fooling. The clams were almost as plentiful as the sand. In ten minutes, his basket was half full.

``Find any gold?'' Mr. Morton asked.

``Nah,'' said Katy.

``Well you've certainly dug deep enough.''

``Can we go out to the island?'' Rachel said.

``Yeah, can we, Dad?''

``OK. Just be careful on the rocks.''

``We will.''

12.

The island was even better than the flats, the girls agreed. Sitting on its shore, the sky looked as big as the whole world. And the water was blue and perfectly still; only a few lobster pots disturbed the surface. Rachel found a horseshoe crab and a lobster claw. Katy found several green stones, for her rock collection.

``It's almost as good as gold,'' she said, dropping them into her bucket.

``I've never had a horseshoe crab before,'' said Rachel. ``I've always wanted one.''

``And I have more than enough clams for the best chowder this side of Boston,'' Mr. Morton said. ``Now it's time to go. The tide's coming in and we don't want to get stranded.''

``Because Black Skull might get us,'' Rachel said. ``Dana said to this day, he watches over his gold.''

``But he's a nice pirate,'' Katy protested.

``Yes he is,'' Mr. Morton said. ``Let's get a move on.''

13.

Nobody saw Katy fall.

One minute she was starting down a huge seaweed-covered rock. The next minute, she was at the bottom, crying and clutching her ankle.

``Katy, are you all right?'' Mr. Morton was upset. ``Oh, God. I never should have let you climb up there!''

Katy only cried.

As soon as he had a close look at her ankle, Mr. Morton knew. ``It's broken,'' he said.

``Poor Katy,'' Rachel said. ``Did she hit her head?''

``I don't think so,'' Mr. Morton said. ``Did you, honey?''

Katy shook her head. ``It hurts,'' she cried.

``I know it, honey. But the doctor will fix it up fine.''

``I don't want any needles!''

``You won't have to have any,'' Mr. Morton said. ``But we'll have to get you to a hospital.''

``Can she walk?''

``I'll have to carry her,'' Mr. Morton said. He hugged Katy. ``There, there, everything's going to be OK.''

He picked his daughter up. It had been a long time since he'd carried her any distance and the last year had been a growth spurt for Katy. ``Like a weed,'' the family liked to joke. But there was no choice. They could wait days in Pirate's Cove before anyone came along.

14.

Dana happened to drive by when Mr. Morton was loading Katy into the car back at the house. He gave Mr. Morton directions to Blue Hill Hospital and gave Katy his word that the doctors and nurses there were the nicest in the world.

``You know,'' he said, pulling Mr. Morton aside, ``I feel responsible. All that talk of Black Skull.''

``Don't be ridiculous,'' Mr. Morton said.

``You didn't even get your chowder.''

``You're right,'' Mr. Morton said. ``In our rush, we left everything behind.''

``Come on, Dad,'' Rachel said.

``Coming.''

``You sure you don't want to ride with me?'' Dana said one final time.

``We're all set,'' Mr. Morton said. ``If you can just make sure their mother sees my note. I didn't have her number.''

15.

They were three hours at the hospital. Katy got crutches and the nurse gave both girls giant lollipops. The doctor was the first to sign Katy's cast, which she would be wearing until just before kindergarten started in the fall.

``Watch that step!'' the doctor wrote.

Mrs. Morton was still out shopping when they got home. But somebody had been busy inside the cottage. A full pot of chowder was steaming on the stove and there were two fresh-caught two-pound lobsters and a big can of Spaghetti-Os in the refrigerator. The table was set and there was a bottle of wine and a six-pack of Coke.

But the biggest surprise was Rachel's bucket of shells and Katy's bucket of rocks, just as they'd left them at Pirate's Cove. Next to each bucket was a necklace and a bracelet.

``Gold!'' the girls gushed.

``And look at this,'' Mr. Morton said, picking up a note written in large, black letters. Across the top was a skull and cross bones.

``Dear Rachel and Katy,'' Mr. Morton read.

``Couldn't help but feel bad about how your visit to my cove turned out. Can't give you all my gold, but I hope this will help.

Enjoy your stay in Maine.

``Signed, Black Skull.

``P.S. Katy. Have your dad sign your cast for me.''

Written in a haunted house on Buck’s Harbor, Maine, in August 1990.

Grand Prize, Best Short, RI Film Fest

And the winner is ASAD, described by the filmmakers as a "coming-of-age fable" about a Somali boy, shot with a cast of Somali refugees, and directed by Bryan Buckley, best known as the award-winning director of Superbowl commercial, and now helming the screen adaptation of Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus, starring Reese Witherspoon.

I happened to be one of the 2012 finalist judges, and I rated it best of the 10 films I judged -- and most were very good. But even in this honored group, ASAD stood out. I watched it on the big screen Opening Night at Vets Theater and was blown away. The Grand Prize means ASAD is now entered into Oscar contention. May the Academy be similarly impressed... More about ASAD and other winners -- congrats to all -- at the festival site.

Manhattan, mid-day, Monday, August 13, 2012

Scenes of Manhattan, on a walk from Penn Station to 50th...

Garment District.

Times Square, west view.

View looking downtown from Times Square.

Only two people here are real.

Ground floor, 30 Rock.

Atlas, outside Rockefeller Center. has to be one of the most photographed objects in midtown.

Garden off Fifth.

Inside St. Patrick's Cathedral.

Our lady of Guadeloupe, St. Pat's.

Best shoeshine in the city: Drago, Penn Station, $4.

 

Film Fest features documentaries

The 2012 Rhode Island International Film festival continued Saturday with screenings of three feature-length documentaries, including the Providence Journal's "Coming Home," shown at RISD's Metcalf Auditorium. Journal staff members and Iraq veteran John DiRaimo, who is in the film, joined a discussion.

Saturday's session, "Future Filmmaking: Digital Documentary Bridging Cultures," also included the world premiere of "The White Picket Fence Project," filmed in Kosovo and South Africa, followed by a discussion including filmmaker Valon Ymeri, pictured here with DiRaimo.

Also featured Saturday was the world premiere of Ian Thomas Ash's film "In The Grey Zone," about the Fukushima nuclear meltdown. Ash was on hand.

The six-day festival wraps up Sunday. Find the full festival schedule and ticket info at the festival site. 

Filmmaker Ymeri with Iraq veteran DiRaimo

Coming Home: DiRaimo on screen.

 

 

 

Opening Night, 2012 R.I. Film Festival. Fun!

A fine evening Tuesday at the opening of the 2012 Rhode Island International Film Festival, six days of screenings, discussions and get-togethers that has the capitol city crawling with filmmakers from near and far. The Providence Journal, which is well represented throughout the festival, had a big presence at the opening at Veterans Memorial Auditorium. Longtime Trinity Rep actress Barbara Meek received an award. Seven shorts from six countries (South Africa, Afghanistan, Canada, France, Norway and England) were shown. Several were outstanding. Three are on my short list as a festival finalist judge (sorry, no further comment!).

With Yolanda, Vets lobby

In the lobby

Katy came, too.

Filmmakers Shachar Langlev, left, and Nitzan Mager arrive for the opening night screenings. Their film, Folkswagon, will be shown later in the week. The Providence Journal/ Connie Grosch

Doors to Vets

With festival founder and director George Marshall.

RIP, Mark O'Donnell

 Mark O'Donnell, who won a Tony Award for his musical adaptation of the Movie Hairspray, among other artistic achievements, died Monday at his Manhattan residence, apparently of a heart attack.

Mark was my college classmate. I came to know him and his twin brother Steve, now head writer for Jimmy Kimmel Live, when we lived in the same dorm freshman year. As you might imagine, Mark (and Steve) was one of the funniest people ever. Just a natural, rare talent for making people laugh. Such a gift. But also a kind and gracious guy. We were an eclectic group, this Class of 1976: John Roberts, now Supreme Court Chief Justice; cellist Yo-Yo Ma; Bobby Kennedy Jr.; Jill Abramson, now executive editor of The New York Times. And a bunch of other good people, lesser known, all of us coming-of-age during an interesting time.

RIP, Mark.

Join Us During Film Festival Week!

Please join me and the rest of The Providence Journal filmmakers, photographers and editors at the Rhode Island International Film Festival, starting at opening night, Tuesday, 7 p.m., Vets Auditorium. Journal films throughout the week, panel discussion Thursday at the RI Film Forum, and Coming Home Saturday morning.

A half-page house promotional ad ran in today's Providence Sunday Journal. Look for more ads this week, in both the hard-copy and e- editions of The Journal this week. Pam Cotter @prcotter and other Journal staffers will also be tweeting and blogging from the festival as the week unfolds. Festival ends a week from today: Sunday, Aug. 12.

More details, including links to our promo short, at my earlier post about A Universe of Stories.

Associated Press honors Journal

Congratulations to the many staff editors, photographers and writers at The Providence Journal who together won 19 awards in the 2012 New England Associated Press News Executives Association contest.

The newspaper was honored for writing, investigative reporting, page design, illustration, photography and headline writing. The Journal won the prestigious Sevellon Brown Award for public service for its "Reinvent Rhode Island" series, about the state's economy (Brown, for whom the award is named, edited The Journal from 1953 to 1968). I am a member of the Reinvent team, which is headed by editor John Kostrzewa and overseen by acting executive editor Karen Bordeleau.

With photographer John Freidah, I also received a second-place enterprise award for my autumn 2011 series "War on Terror: Coming Home," about veterans of the wars on Iraq and Afghanistan. The series formed the basis for The Journal's first documentary film, Coming Home, which will be shown at 10 a.m. Saturday, August 11, at RISD's Metcalf Auditorium, as part of the 2012 Rhode Island International Film Festival.

'A Universe of Stories,' Providence Journal promo short for Film Festival

The rough cut is now a final cut, and posted on the Rhode Island International Film Festival site.

 This is the short I mentioned in an earlier posting:

"Editor Cile Prestamo has cut a promotional short that will be shown throughout this August's Rhode Island International Film Festival, where for the first time ever The Providence Journal will show many films and anchor the Film Forum, a half day of viewings and discussion about the craft and business of fillmmaking in Rhode Island. Cile's one-minute, eleven-second short -- which will be shown repeatedly at Veterans Memorial Auditorium, main venue for the festival -- is a masterpiece, featuring clips of some of our best films and words from three of our finest photographers/videographers."

And it helps answer the question we will explore at the at the Film Forum, Thursday, Aug. 9, at the Providence Biltmore:

"How does a media company founded just three years after the invention of still photography survive for nearly two centuries –– and remain fresh and vital in the Internet Age? The Providence Journal, published daily since 1829, has accomplished this by emphasizing news, public service and story. And in 2012, that includes storytelling in documentary films posted as videos to its web site, providencejournal.com

Frank Beazley laid to rest

Photo by Katy Miller

After a funeral Mass in the Zambarano Hospital chapel that drew an overflow crowd of more than 200 -- and featured three very moving eulogies -- Frank was laid to rest today at Acotes Hill Cemetery, a beautiful spot in the quaint village of Chepachet. Along with Zambarano staffers Ed Fanning and Steve Westerman, who delivered one of the eulogies, I was honored to be a pallbearer. Frank would have been pleased by it all.

Frank's funeral at Zambarano.

Several politicians and dignitaries joined patients, staff and friends in sending Frank off. My daughter Katy, representing the lieutenant governor, joined me. Like everyone in my family, including my other daughter, Rachel, who works at Zam, Katy got to know this remarkable man over the years.

Frank was buried with some of his precious personal items, including his beloved signature hats and pins. Please honor his memory, as I have also done, with a contribution in his name to the group he long headed: a check made out to Patients for Progress, c/o Stephen Westerman, Zambarano Hospital, 2090 Wallum Lake Rd., Pascoag, RI 02859.

Godspeed, Frank, godspeed.

Read the full text of The Growing Season, the story of Frank Beazley, through this link.

Photo by Mary Murphy.

 

'The Age of Miracles': Must-read

  My review in this past Sunday Providence Journal of this summer's smash debut novel, The Age of Miracles. Here's the Amazon page.

BOOKS - Earth, and 11-year-old main character, undergo transformation
G. WAYNE MILLER
Publication Date: July 22, 2012  Page: G6  Section: FEATURES 

"The Age of Miracles,"
By Karen Thompson Walker.
Random House.
288 pages. $26.

With "The Age of Miracles," we welcome the debut of Karen Thompson Walker, a young novelist whose beautiful language, distinctive voice and uncommon ability to write equally adeptly of loss and love promises a long career of important work.

On its surface - a clever and convincing surface - "The Age of Miracles" chronicles the experiences of 11-year-old Julia and her family and friends during the first months of what comes to be known as "the slowing." In this not-too-distant future, the earth's rotation is inexplicably decelerating, causing lengthening days and nights and unrelenting bio-disasters across the planet. The author gets global warming.

But this is not just another fiery depiction of unfolding apocalypse: The book has been optioned to Hollywood, but don't expect James Cameron or Christopher Nolan to direct. Because beneath the book's dystopian veneer, with its annihilating sun, mass demise of species and mysterious human ailments, Walker gives us a brilliant, small-scale study of the devolution of a Southern California neighborhood as old rhythms of life disintegrate and a new, unbalanced "normal" emerges. Her deft portrayal of this transformation would alone have made "Miracles" a worthy read - but Walker goes one level deeper still, telling a timeless coming-of-age story with fresh, sophisticated power, in part attributable to the striking beauty of her words. Two such stories, actually.

Julia is a shy girl, late to puberty, often alone with her thoughts and fears, an outcast seeking shelter in her room and the school library - and yet gifted with prescience and insight, even if she is still too naive to interpret some of the extraordinary (and ordinary) things she observes (the novel is narrated in first person by Julia looking back several years later, when she is a young adult).

Seth Moreno is the skateboarding, emotionally contained boy (he does his best to hide the agony of his mother's slow death) -- a child who nonetheless is intellectually curious and, in his way, charismatic. How they fall for each in their tumultuous pre-teen world, which survives "the slowing," carries this book to an unforgettable conclusion. I will not reveal the end, but the words "We were here" proved haunting.

Right from the opening page, "The Age of Miracles" brims with exquisitely crafted prose on which rests Julia's emerging personality (a former editor at Simon & Schuster, Walker evidently labors over her every sentence, polishing each as she might a precious heirloom).

"This was middle school," Julia relates, "the age of miracles, the time when kids shot up three inches over the summer, when breasts bloomed from nothing, when voices dipped and dove. Our first flaws were emerging, but they were being corrected. Blurry vision could be fixed invisibly with the magic of the contact lens. Crooked teeth were pulled straight with braces. Spotty skin could be chemically cleaned. Some girls were turning beautiful. A few boys were growing tall. I knew I still looked like a child."

About a third of the way in, Walker seems to have momentarily lost her touch, with a few errant clichés and repetitions (enough, already, of "radiating"!) -- but these were but occasional, and elegance soon returned. I can imagine the delight when Walker's manuscript reached the desk of the acquiring editor at Random House, and why the publisher paid a reported $1 million for the book and has strongly supported its launch, including a full-page ad in the New York Times Book Review.

I read "The Age of Miracles" in nearly a single sitting: On East Matunuck Beach, on a pristine summer's day. I guess that makes it a perfect beach book.

But do not be fooled: Walker's debut signals the arrival of a major new voice in serious American fiction.

G. Wayne Miller is the author of seven books of non-fiction, a novel and a short-story collection. Visit him at gwaynemiller.com.

---

Video of Frank on his 82d birthday: Dec. 13, 2012

As far as I know, this is the final film of Frank, at Zambarano, celebrating his 82 birthday. He loved that hat! "Every Christmas, I put this hat on. Oh, yes!"

Frank Beazley: The obituary

 CLICK HERE to read the full story of Frank.


Page one, Providence Journal, Monday, July 23, 2012

passages | Beazley was champion for disabled, lauded artist
 
by G. WAYNE MILLER
Journal Staff Writer

BURRILLVILLE - Frank Beazley, who survived a harsh childhood and a devastating spinal-cord injury to become Rhode Island's foremost advocate for people with disabilities - and also a celebrated artist and poet - died Sunday morning at Zambarano Hospital, where he had lived since 1967. He was 83.

Just this spring, in a rare honor, the main patient building at Zambarano was named for him. Beazley, the General Assembly declared, was "someone who has worked tirelessly to ensure continuous quality of care for all patients, and who has been and continues to be a tireless voice for the voiceless." Governor Chafee signed the legislation into law.

Senators Paul W. Fogarty, D-Glocester, and Rep. Cale P. Keable, D-Burrillville, offered tributes to Beazley on Sunday.

"Frank was a longtime friend and mentor to me and to many," Fogarty said. "He made a tremendous difference in the quality of life of residents at Zambarano and throughout the state, with his art and poetry, with his advocacy, and especially with his infectious smile. … I was honored to know him and to call him a friend."

Keable said: "As someone whose brother was a resident at Zambarano for 13 years, I saw firsthand the difference that Frank made in the lives of residents there. Frank was an inspiration, to them and to me. … All Rhode Islanders can learn a great deal from Frank's life."

Son of an unwed teenager whose family did not acknowledge him, Beazley was born Dec. 13, 1928, in Halifax, Nova Scotia. He was raised in an orphanage and, later, in a foster home run by an abusive alcoholic.

After service in the Royal Canadian Army, Beazley became a baker. He moved to Rhode Island in 1953 in search of a better life. He was returning to his Providence home from his shift at a Dunkin' Donuts bakery Jan. 6, 1967, when he fell down a flight of stairs.

The accident left him a quadriplegic, permanently paralyzed from the neck down. After several weeks at Rhode Island Hospital, he was moved to Zambarano, now a unit of state-run Eleanor Slater Hospital. With rehabilitation, he was able to regain some use of his hands.

Beazley's fiancée eventually abandoned him, leaving him alone at the institution on remote Wallum Lake, but Beazley did not let his circumstances defeat him. He began to paint and write poems. He gained U.S. citizenship. He found his voice, becoming president of Patients for Progress, a platform he used to advocate for rights for the disabled.

At Zambarano, Beazley successfully championed campaigns for greater patient freedoms, including the right to wear regular clothes, pass fewer hours in bed, watch cable TV and spend more time in the community - campaigns that required years of dogged persistence.

Beazley fought moves to close wards and stop RIPTA bus service to Zambarano. Statewide, he fought for increased funding of programs for all people with disabilities. He regularly testified at the State House, where governors and legislators opened their doors to him. And he always spoke his mind.

Beazley was honored many times for his art and poetry, including twice winning the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Contest and being featured in a display at the Second International "One Heart, One World Exhibition 2002 Cultural Olympiad," in conjunction with the 2002 Salt Lake City Olympics.

Beazley was the subject of a 12-part Providence Journal series, "The Growing Season," published in 2006. Hundreds of readers responded to his story of triumph against great odds.

Behind his many achievements was a modest man of endless good will, with blue eyes and a warm smile. He was fond of flags, lapel pins, candy, children and what he called "beautiful days" ones, for example, with soothing breezes and glorious sunsets.

Beazley lived a simple philosophy: "Take what's there for you. Enjoy what you can."

To generations of doctors, nurses and other staff at Zambarano, Beazley was a cheering presence always grateful for their care, which kept him in good health for nearly a half century. To the many friends he made through his advocacy and his art, Beazley was a man who listened and provided encouragement in whatever challenges people faced.

In his private moments, he loved a good meal, music boxes and the New England Patriots.

Beazley's last public statements came in April, when he made what would be his final visit to the State House, to be officially honored on the occasion of the naming of the Frank Beazley Building, where he lived so long and died.

"It's one of the greatest things that's ever happened to me," said Beazley. "I hope it gives inspiration to a lot of other people."

Typically, Beazley offered gentle advice to others facing adversity, of whatever kind.

"Well," he said, "it's the old saying: You just have to keep your chin up and fight your battles. And respect people."

Vigorous in the spring, Beazley declined in recent weeks, though he could still manage a smile. He died in his bed on his long-time ward, 2 North.

Funeral arrangements are incomplete.

Frank Beazley, 1928 - 2012

Frank Beazley died this morning at Zambarano Hospital, in Burrillville, where he had lived since 1967, when a spinal-cord injury left him paralyzed from the waist down -- and began his extraordinary journey to celebrated poet and artist, and Rhode Island's foremast advocate for the disabled. Just this spring, the main patient building at Zambarano -- where he lived and died -- was named for him, a rare honor. I am glad he lived to see it.

Frank was the subject of the favorite series I ever wrote, a series that produced an amazing outpouring of praise for Frank from hundreds of readers. But more than that, Frank became a very dear friend -- in his humble way, a sort of father figure. Those who know me best will understand why I grieve.

I saw Frank for the last time on Tuesday, when I visited him after learning he was gravely ill. He had been very sick on occasions before, but I knew seeing him that he was tired, and ready to go, and at peace with that. I sat by his bed and we talked for a few minutes, just a few spare words. Frank kept saying "OK" and "good." Then he smiled, that great Frank smile, and drifted back to sleep. I touched him and said goodbye.  And then I went back to The Providence Journal and wrote his obituary, which will be in tomorrow's edition.

Godspeed, Frank.

Frank in 2006, with my granddaughter, Isabella.

Rough cut of Providence Journal promo short for RI Film Fest

Editor Cile Prestamo has cut a promotional short that will be shown throughout this August's Rhode Island International Film Festival, where for the first time ever The Providence Journal will show many films and anchor the Film Forum, a half day of viewings and discussion about the craft and business of fillmmaking in Rhode Island.

 Cile's one-minute, eleven-second short -- which will be shown repeatedly at Veterans Memorial Auditorium, main venue for the festival -- is a masterpiece, featuring clips of some of our best films and words from three of our finest photographers/videographers. I'll post a link as soon as we get final cut.

As GM used to say, this paper, which began publishing in 1829, ain't your father's Oldsmobile. 

Providence Journal at R.I. Int'l Film Festival

With just three weeks until Opening Night of the 30th annual Rhode Island International Film Festival (7 p.m., Tuesday, Aug. 7, at Vets Auditorium), plans are being finalized for The Providence Journal's extensive participation. We will be showing some 20 videos of various lengths, including the 2012 New England Emmy-nominated and regional Murrow Award-winning feature-length documentary COMING HOME, which has also been broadcast on PBS.

One highlight of our participation will be the five short films we will show at the Rhode Island Film Forum, from 8:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m., Thursday, Aug. 9, in the rooftop ballroom of the Biltmore Hotel. Pretty nice venue!

Our block is called Transmedia Technology: The Future of Storytelling.

Here's what it's all about, from the Festival web site:

How does a media company founded just three years after the invention of still photography survive for nearly two centuries –– and remain fresh and vital in the Internet Age? The Providence Journal, published daily since 1829, has accomplished this by emphasizing news, public service and story.

And in 2012, that includes storytelling in documentary films posted as videos to its web site, www.providencejournal.com

Join Michael Delaney, Journal Managing Editor for Visuals, and award-winning staff photographers/videographers Sandor Bodo, John Freidah, Frieda Squires and Steve Szydlowski as they show some of the paper’s finest films and discuss their craft from artistic, news and business points of view.

Journal videos have won several awards, including a 2011 New England Emmy for Freidah’s “Marathon Man,” which will be shown at the forum. The paper’s first feature-length documentary, “Coming Home,” about veterans of the War on Terror, was nominated for a 2012 New England Emmy and won the 2012 Edward R. Murrow Award for best online documentary, New England Region, from the Radio Television Digital News Association. Also in 2012, the paper’s “Justice for Jason: Foreman family strives to change Rhode Island Law” was nominated for a New England Emmy in the Outstanding Societal Concerns Category.

The Work of Human Hands: The e-edition

Arriving soon: the e-edition of my first book of non-fiction, THE WORK OF HUMAN HANDS: Hardy Hendren and Surgical Wonder at Children's Hospital. The book will be available on Kindle, Nook, and in PDF and other digital platforms.

This is the cover design, by the very talented David Dodd, who designed the cover for SINCE THE SKY BLEW OFF: The Essential G. Wayne Miller Fiction, Vol. 1. And like that short-story collection, published digitally in April, THE WORK OF HUMAN HANDS is being brought back into print by my friend David Wilson, founder, CEO and publisher of Crossroad Press.

And it is part of a larger effort to digitize some of my earlier titles. Recently, Kindle editions of MEN AND SPEED and COMING OF AGE have become available.

Struggles of single parents in recessionary times

Crystal Tetreault and daughter Jada, 6. Journal photo by John Freidah.

Single parenthood has never been easy, but the recession has only compounded the difficulties for parents like Crystal Tetreault of Cranston, who was laid off from her job as a dental assistant. She, her daughter and her teenage son, Bobby, share their poignant story in tomorrow's Sunday Journal. This is my latest contribution to our year-long serialized look at the economy, Reinvent Rhode Island. For interactive graphics, to take a poll and join the congestion right now, go to our blog posting.

Things best not to say to cops (or anyone, really)

Pulling the occasional weekend duty at The Providence Journal required me to check the overnight police reports in the Capital City. Always interesting, reading the first-hand narratives of incidents and arrests that officers have written -- they often quote offenders, and their reports really constitute stories. Here are two cases where arresting officers tried reason, but were met with drunken anger. I quote:

-- Offender One, a woman.
"I don't give a f***. F*** that. These cops are a*******."

They also have handcuffs...

-- Offender Two, a man.
"You guys are a bunch of dicks, I don't have to go, f*** this."

Oh, yes, you do...

President Obama's remarks on the Supreme Court's ruling on healthcare

THE WHITE HOUSE

Office of the Press Secretary

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

For Immediate Release                                                                                                                           June 28, 2012

REMARKS BY THE PRESIDENT

ON THE SUPREME COURT RULING

ON THE AFFORDABLE CARE ACT

East Room

12:15 P.M. EDT

     THE PRESIDENT:  Good afternoon.  Earlier today, the Supreme Court upheld the constitutionality of the Affordable Care Act -- the name of the health care reform we passed two years ago.  In doing so, they've reaffirmed a fundamental principle that here in America -- in the wealthiest nation on Earth – no illness or accident should lead to any family’s financial ruin. 

I know there will be a lot of discussion today about the politics of all this, about who won and who lost.  That’s how these things tend to be viewed here in Washington.  But that discussion completely misses the point.  Whatever the politics, today’s decision was a victory for people all over this country whose lives will be more secure because of this law and the Supreme Court’s decision to uphold it.

And because this law has a direct impact on so many Americans, I want to take this opportunity to talk about exactly what it means for you. 

First, if you’re one of the more than 250 million Americans who already have health insurance, you will keep your health insurance -- this law will only make it more secure and more affordable.  Insurance companies can no longer impose lifetime limits on the amount of care you receive.  They can no longer discriminate against children with preexisting conditions.  They can no longer drop your coverage if you get sick.  They can no longer jack up your premiums without reason.  They are required to provide free preventive care like check-ups and mammograms -- a provision that's already helped 54 million Americans with private insurance.  And by this August, nearly 13 million of you will receive a rebate from your insurance company because it spent too much on things like administrative costs and CEO bonuses, and not enough on your health care. 

There’s more.  Because of the Affordable Care Act, young adults under the age of 26 are able to stay on their parent's health care plans -- a provision that's already helped 6 million young Americans.  And because of the Affordable Care Act, seniors receive a discount on their prescription drugs -- a discount that's already saved more than 5 million seniors on Medicare about $600 each.

All of this is happening because of the Affordable Care Act. These provisions provide common-sense protections for middle class families, and they enjoy broad popular support.  And thanks to today’s decision, all of these benefits and protections will continue for Americans who already have health insurance.   

Now, if you’re one of the 30 million Americans who don’t yet have health insurance, starting in 2014 this law will offer you an array of quality, affordable, private health insurance plans to choose from.  Each state will take the lead in designing their own menu of options, and if states can come up with even better ways of covering more people at the same quality and cost, this law allows them to do that, too.  And I’ve asked Congress to help speed up that process, and give states this flexibility in year one. 

Once states set up these health insurance marketplaces, known as exchanges, insurance companies will no longer be able to discriminate against any American with a preexisting health condition.  They won’t be able to charge you more just because you’re a woman.  They won’t be able to bill you into bankruptcy. If you’re sick, you’ll finally have the same chance to get quality, affordable health care as everyone else.  And if you can’t afford the premiums, you'll receive a credit that helps pay for it. 

Today, the Supreme Court also upheld the principle that people who can afford health insurance should take the responsibility to buy health insurance.  This is important for two reasons. 

First, when uninsured people who can afford coverage get sick, and show up at the emergency room for care, the rest of us end up paying for their care in the form of higher premiums. 

And second, if you ask insurance companies to cover people with preexisting conditions, but don’t require people who can afford it to buy their own insurance, some folks might wait until they’re sick to buy the care they need -- which would also drive up everybody else’s premiums.

That’s why, even though I knew it wouldn’t be politically popular, and resisted the idea when I ran for this office, we ultimately included a provision in the Affordable Care Act that people who can afford to buy health insurance should take the responsibility to do so.  In fact, this idea has enjoyed support from members of both parties, including the current Republican nominee for President.

Still, I know the debate over this law has been divisive.  I respect the very real concerns that millions of Americans have shared.  And I know a lot of coverage through this health care debate has focused on what it means politically. 

Well, it should be pretty clear by now that I didn’t do this because it was good politics.  I did it because I believed it was good for the country.  I did it because I believed it was good for the American people.

There’s a framed letter that hangs in my office right now.  It was sent to me during the health care debate by a woman named Natoma Canfield.  For years and years, Natoma did everything right.  She bought health insurance.  She paid her premiums on time.  But 18 years ago, Natoma was diagnosed with cancer.  And even though she’d been cancer-free for more than a decade, her insurance company kept jacking up her rates, year after year.  And despite her desire to keep her coverage -- despite her fears that she would get sick again -- she had to surrender her health insurance, and was forced to hang her fortunes on chance. 

I carried Natoma’s story with me every day of the fight to pass this law.  It reminded me of all the Americans, all across the country, who have had to worry not only about getting sick, but about the cost of getting well. 

Natoma is well today.  And because of this law, there are other Americans -- other sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers -- who will not have to hang their fortunes on chance.  These are the Americans for whom we passed this law. 

The highest Court in the land has now spoken.  We will continue to implement this law.  And we'll work together to improve on it where we can.  But what we won’t do -- what the country can’t afford to do -- is refight the political battles of two years ago, or go back to the way things were. 

With today’s announcement, it’s time for us to move forward -- to implement and, where necessary, improve on this law.  And now is the time to keep our focus on the most urgent challenge of our time:  putting people back to work, paying down our debt, and building an economy where people can have confidence that if they work hard, they can get ahead. 

But today, I’m as confident as ever that when we look back five years from now, or 10 years from now, or 20 years from now, we’ll be better off because we had the courage to pass this law and keep moving forward. 

Thank you.  God bless you, and God bless America.

Carol Young's book club

Carol on the right, me at head of table, photo by Wayne Coats.

 
Not often that I make a make a book appearance and am treated to a fine dinner, but that's what happened Monday when I was the guest at Carol Young's book club, which met at her home. Carol is a dear friend of many years, and was a colleague at The Providence Journal for decades before she retired two years ago. I discussed AN UNCOMMON MAN, my biography of Claiborne Pell. The company and evening were the best!

Reports of my death...

... have been greatly exaggerated. But there have been reports, most recently last week in Forth Worth, Texas. I must say my trip to heaven was quite interesting. I have sworn not to reveal details, however. Sorry!

"Superman Building," a rare tour

As the next installment in our year-long series Reinvent Rhode Island, The Providence Journal on Sunday, June 17, will publish a story about possible future uses for the iconic "Superman Building," which Bank of America, lone tenant, will vacate by April 2013. We were lucky enough to get a top-to-bottom tour of this historic and intriguing building, which has a storied place in Rhode Island history.

Here are some photos I took. Look for more in The Journal...

The "Superman Building," opened in 1928 as the Industrial Trust Company building, from Kennedy Plaza.

View of the Plaza from atop the building. The three prominent buildings are City Hall, the Biltmore and the Westin.

The view south, toward the head of Narragansett Bay

Door to the fabled "Gondola Room," rarely visited by the public. Many myths have developed regarding what this room was used for. Docking of dirigibles? Private parties for the bank president?

The Gondola Room. design clearly inspired by the passenger compartment of a 1920s blimp. Note the leather and oak appointments...

Custom wine rack.

The lantern at the top of the building is visible for miles at night. Here's the inside of the lantern.

Executive dining room, 26th Floor. No longer used, but furnishings remain.

The executive suite was lavishly furnished. These will all be removed when BofA vacates.

Peregrine falcons nest on the building. Here's a newly hatched chick. There's a webcam for them...

The basement safe has concrete walls thicker than three feet and doors that weigh 17 tons, all steel.

Side view of one of the safe doors. There are four doors. The safe itself is bigger than a house, or so it seemed. We were not allowed in.

Another door, next to a stationery bike, which gives the scale.

Free speech rights, free speech symbol

Exercising their free-speech rights, members of Occupy Providence have set up camp on the sidewalk alongside a four-story symbol of those same rights, The Providence Journal's headquarters in the capitol city's downtown. Behind the signs they have hung from our building is our newsroom. The Occupiers are demonstrating as the netroots convention unfolds across the street, at the Convention Center.

4 p.m. June 7, 2012, The Providence Journal.

A speech at the Convention Center, across from Journal

Zombie Night

Spending the morning watching Providence Journal films as we plan our participation in this summer's Rhode Island International Film Festival. Some great work by many fine filmmakers. Lots of serious and public-service productions, such as COMING HOME, but some are just great fun -- this one, "Zombie Night," by Sandor Bodo, one of our longtime photojournalists.

More of the backlist on Kindle

 
Amazon is methodically migrating backlisted titles to Kindle. With the addition of MEN AND SPEED, my 2002 book about NASCAR, five of mine are now available on Kindle.