"Band of Brothers" by Janice Luckey
– Could they have once been scamps?
After coffee and cannoli, we part, always promising to get together again soon.
Janice Luckey, who lives in Mooresville, North Carolina, remembers when writing became a rhythm of her life. She scribbled a romance novel in a 3-ring binder in junior high school sparking a life-long love of all things writerly—writing, reading, journaling and hoarding office supplies. Janice is fueled by the love and support of her family and most anything chocolate. When not writing, she can be found making memories with her husband and four granddaughters, or roaming the aisles at the library, bookstores, and Staples.
Author’s Talk
Janice Luckey
My husband and his brothers encouraged me for years to write the stories of their youth. Their dad took the time near the end of his life to capture all his stories regarding life on a farm, WWII, and the Great Depression. We read them with great appreciation and now, a decade after his death, the little notebook of memories is a treasured keepsake.
So, when Randell announced Foolhardy as the theme for the 11th PSPP, I knew the time was right to anchor down the brothers' childhood stories in the hope that they too would grow to be treasured. Word count constraints kept me from sharing more of their antics like the time they built a treehouse with a wooden floor but used cardboard for the walls! One misstep or a playful shove and right through the wall you would go to the ground. What were they thinking? Another not so bright idea was a fight flicking flaming marshmallows at each other. One fiery missile landed on the tip of my husband's nose. He still bears the scar today. One more daring act of utter foolishness was their idea of placing an exhaust whistle in the tail pipe of their dad's car while on vacation at the beach. Each time he pressed the accelerator the car would let out a high pitched Wheee! The boys dissolved into fits of laughter in the backseat while their dad jerked open the hood searching for the origin of the sound all the while ranting a blue streak. Dad finally put two and two together and let's just say the boys would not make that mistake again.
As I sit with the brothers over a savory pizza and listen to their stories an element of something mystical is present. This moment may not happen again. Will illness or frailty overtake us before we can meet again? Knowing this heightens the intensity of our moments together. It is not just three old geezers having lunch—it is a supernatural event where we mark our history, set down our legacy, thankful to God for this time together. Stories, especially foolhardy ones only add to the richness. Salud!
