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