A few years ago, I suddenly realized that the men in my life had
each written his memoirs. My father, my brother, and my husband
were each very different, with completely distinct backgrounds.
Their memoirs were a unique gift to me, and now, dear reader, a
gift to you. My father, Charles Rosen, was born and raised in
Harlem in New York City and, after his father was killed leaving
his mother with 6 sons, had to start work to survive. He finally
became a printer but, then in World War I, he fought at the front
in France. His memoirs are very vivid memories of that war. After
being wounded in battle, he returned home where he became a master
printer. His memoirs of his love for his wife and family are only
surpassed by his love of his country. My brother, Hank Rowan, began
to draw and paint at a very early age. After WWII he pursued his
career as an artist and professor of art which took him all over
this country as well as the world. His memoirs are filled with that
pursuit of Art which defines his life. My husband, Jim Cooke, not
an artist, but a man who pursued truth, and had the ability to
recognize it throughout his life, but especially during WWII where
he fought in Europe. His memories are filled with events that
needed to be documented, never to be forgotten, from Normandy to
Buchenwald to Berlin. I am blessed to have been an important part
of the lives of my father, my brother, and my husband, and best of
all to be able to document those lives
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