Word: fathers
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...fell in love with flight. Though she took lessons as a young woman, she was resigned to reaching the skies as a flight attendant--until the Army Air Force began recruiting women pilots in 1940. As Tom Brokaw recounts in his book The Greatest Generation, her father said, "I didn't get to serve and I don't have any boys, so I guess you'll have to do it." During World War II, Ringenberg flew military planes across the U.S., ultimately logging some 40,000 hours...
...wonders if the boy she talks to every night, cradling the phone in her bed, might ever look at her as more than a friend. It's a tricky balancing act, but for a first-time novelist, Hermann is remarkably sure-footed. When at age 14 Ruby accompanies her father, a Holocaust survivor, on his first visit to the camp where he was interned as a boy, she tries to imagine his experience but finds that "it was impossible; she could not make the leap." No sooner has she admitted failure than she notices, walking beside him, that her strides...
...Church, Big Book Warren grew up in Northern California. He is a fourth-generation Southern Baptist pastor, intimately familiar not just with churches but also with the spreading of them: his father was a "church planter," or serial church founder. The son, who has said that from sixth grade on he was always president of something (and told TIME he led a courthouse march for the 1960s radical group Students for a Democratic Society, or SDS), received his own call to ministry at age 19. He got a conventional theology doctorate and an unconventional education from a friend, management guru...
...mother has recounted to me how when I was a prisoner of war in Vietnam, she sometimes overheard my father praying for me. He was in charge of U.S. forces in the Pacific at the time and suffered from the burden of commanding a war in a country where his son was imprisoned. As my mother recalled, she could hear my father in his study, on his knees, beseeching God to "show Johnny mercy...
...father would have been surprised to know what unlikely forms God's mercy could take. In prison, my captors would tie my arms behind my back and then loop the rope around my neck and ankles so that my head was pulled down between my knees. I was often left like that throughout the night. One night a guard came into my cell. He put his finger to his lips signaling for me to be quiet and then loosened my ropes to relieve my pain. The next morning, when his shift ended, the guard returned and retightened the ropes, never...