Guest Post: Never Forget, Heat Can Kill You! From Author Anne Montgomery...

People are much more likely to die from heat than from any other natural phenomena.

Here in the Sonoran Desert, the heat is upon us. We desert dwellers are forced to understand the dangers lurking in those high thermometer readings. We know they can very quickly lead to death.

Unfortunately, many visitors to our valley don’t seem to understand. Just two weeks ago, a tourist died on one of our city trails, a young woman who tried scaling Camelback Mountain without water. In July! Earlier, when paramedics had to rescue dehydrated hikers from our parks, a dozen firefighters were themselves overcome by the heat. In response, some of our trails have been closed to the public. Others are only open early in the morning and in the evening.

It’s interesting, I think, that so many people fear hurricanes and tornados and floods and earthquakes when the natural event most likely to kill them is heat.

I know first-hand the horrors of heat sickness. The symptoms can arrive frighteningly fast. Dizziness, confusion, headache, nausea, signs that can quickly lead to unconsciousness and death. All but one of my bouts of heat illness were brought on by officiating and my own stupidity. I was an amateur sports official for 40 years, where I called football, baseball, ice hockey, soccer, and basketball games. I was almost always the only woman on the field, a fact that was rarely far from my mind.

My first attack of heat sickness occurred when I umpired a baseball game in extreme heat.

As you can imagine, I was sometimes made to feel I didn’t belong in the officiating ranks, and I was keenly aware that any show of weakness would lay me open to negative comments from my peers, coaches, and fans. So, the first time I got heat sickness, I struggled through it. It was a baseball game and I was clad in the necessary armor required for working behind the plate: chest protector, shin guards, wool cap, polyester shirt and slacks, steel-toed shoes. The sun was relentless. After the game, I went home and balanced myself under a cold shower for what seemed like hours. I drank Gatorade and copious amounts of water. I felt lousy for a day or two, then returned to the field.

One of the problems associated with heat illness is that once you get it your internal thermometer is messed up and you start succumbing to it more easily. I’m a slow learner sometimes, so it took me a while to finally take a stand. One day, in a sub-varsity football game, I called time and went to the trainer. He took one look at me and dragged me into the locker room where he filled me with fluids and applied wet, icy towels to my head and neck. I was rather surprised when my crew mates greeted me at halftime and promptly told me to go home and get well. No derision. No smirks. I realized then that most outdoor officials in the southwest have probably suffered similarly at one time or another.

Most of my bouts of heat sickness came while I officiated football games in Arizona’s scorching Sonoran Desert, where temperatures often exceed 110 degrees.

A few years later, the telltale signs of heat sickness attacked in the middle of a varsity football game, and you’d be proud of me. I signaled time out, struggled off the field, and said I was sick. Later, when I opened my eyes in the school’s nursing office, I found myself surround by four paramedics. They were so attentive and cute. I briefly considered that they might be male strippers with their prominent muscles and appealing uniforms, but that was just my heat-addled brain.

What finally made me understand the true dangers of heat illness was the time I got lost in the desert. I did all the wrong things. I went rock collecting alone. I walked away from my stranded vehicle. I had two dogs with me who drank all my water. When I saw that last half inch of liquid in my bottle and felt the sun beating down, I tied my dogs under a bush and hoped the coyotes would stay away. I built cairns as I tried to find my way back to civilization, so I might locate my sweet pups if I survived. While the whole ordeal only lasted half-a-day and I was safely reunited with my dogs, the episode is etched into my brain. As is the fact that today I might be nothing more than a pile of bleached bones in the vast Sonoran Desert.

While lost in the desert, I suffered from heat sickness, and today I consider myself lucky to be alive.

It’s understandable then that I never go anywhere without water. That bottle is always in my hand, which here in the desert is pretty much normal. In fact, those without a mobile water supply are easily identified as tourists.

The point is, heat can kill you quickly. And when you consider that our world is heating up rapidly, it’s something we should all take into account whenever we leave the bliss of air-conditioning.

Here is a peek at Anne's latest release.

Bud Richardville is inducted into the Army as the United States prepares for the invasion of Europe in 1943. A chance comment has Bud assigned to the Graves Registration Service where his unit is tasked with locating, identifying, and burying the dead. Bud ships out, leaving behind his new wife, Lorraine, a mysterious woman who has stolen his heart but whose secretive nature and shadowy past leave many unanswered questions. When Bud and his men hit the beach at Normandy, they are immediately thrust into the horrors of what working in a graves unit entails. Bud is beaten down by the gruesome demands of his job and losses in his personal life, but then he meets Eva, an optimistic soul who despite the war can see a positive future. Will Eva’s love be enough to save him?

Praise for Your Forgotten Sons

“Although a deftly crafted work of original fiction, “Your Forgotten Sons” by Anne Montgomery is inspired by a true story. An original and inherently interesting read from start to finish, “Your Forgotten Sons” will prove to be an immediate and enduringly appreciated pick.”  Midwest Book Review

“This was a quick, riveting read that really challenged me to think differently about our servicemen and women, especially those who take on the jobs that don’t get heroically depicted in the media or news…I really highly recommend this book to anyone that is looking for a different take on American history. I left it with a newfound appreciation for the unsung heroes.” Bekah C NetGalley 

“This is the truth. It’s gritty and painful and bittersweet – and true.  When you think you’ve read every perspective of WWII, along comes Bud to break your heart.” Bridgett Siter Former Military Reporter

“Anne Montgomery writes a strong story and I was hooked from the first page. It had a great concept and I enjoyed that this was inspired by a true story…It was written perfectly and I was invested in the story. Anne Montgomery has a great writing style and left me wanting to read more.” –  Kathryn McLeer NetGalley 

Available at Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Google Books, and Kobo

 Anne Montgomery has worked as a television sportscaster, newspaper and magazine writer, teacher, amateur baseball umpire, and high school football referee. She worked at WRBL‐TV in Columbus, Georgia, WROC‐TV in Rochester, New York, KTSP‐TV in Phoenix, Arizona, ESPN in Bristol, Connecticut, where she anchored the Emmy and ACE award‐winning SportsCenter, and ASPN-TV as the studio host for the NBA’s Phoenix Suns. 

Montgomery has been a freelance and staff writer for six publications, writing sports, features, movie reviews, and archeological pieces. 

When she can, Anne indulges in her passions: rock collecting, scuba diving, football refereeing, and playing her guitar.

Learn more about Anne on her website, Wikipedia, Facebook, Linkedin, and Twitter. 

A Gift From Dad: Pondering What it Means to Be Poor by Author Anne Montgomery...

When my dad was 92, he got sick.  With the exception of some childhood bouts of pneumonia—the result of growing up in a house full of chain-smoking coal miners—he’d been robustly healthy his entire life. That he survived the twin assaults of Valley Fever and pneumonia was surprising. Before dying just a week shy of 97, he still took ballroom dance lessons, required not a single medication, and read the New York Times every day.

My father was an ice dancer until he was 80. Then he took up ballroom.

However, my dad was not the same as he was before his illness. His mind was altered, leaving him fuzzy in the short-term memory department. Ironically, and like many elderly people, he has no trouble recalling in vivid detail events that occurred many decades ago. The Japanese kamikaze that flew so close to his destroyer escort he could see the young pilot’s eyes before the plane narrowly missed the ship and plunged into the sea. The sailor plucked from dark, oil-slicked water who lay in his arms and asked for a cigarette before dying. The shipmate who worked as Mickey Rooney’s stunt double who sometimes climbed the mast and performed swan dives into the ocean. And the bodies of downed pilots, in a neat row on the deck, tarp covered save for their feet which rocked rhythmically as the ship swayed beneath the night sky, waiting to be buried at sea.

My father served on a destroyer escort during World War II. The men of the USS Ulvert Moore fought in numerous battles, including Iwo Jima and Okinawa.

Bright and clear is another memory my dad carries, one of a ten-year-old growing up in the mining town of North Irwin, Pennsylvania. The small dwelling on Penn Avenue housed immigrants, Irish in my father’s case. But Italians, and Poles, and Russians, and others lived on the street, as well, all sharing something in common. They were poor.

“Dad’s taking you to a ballgame,” his mother called.

Clad in knickers with clasps below the knees, brown shoes and socks, and a white button-down, my father balked when she handed him a sack lunch bearing a chicken sandwich and a small red apple.

“I wanna get lunch when I get there,” he said. “Everyone buys their lunch at the ballgame.”

My grandfather— thin, balding, blue eyes dancing beneath the brim of a fedora—smiled, then ushered my dad to the train station. There was no money to make the trip to Pittsburg’s Forbes Field, but my grandfather worked for the railroad, one of the few members of the Butler clan to avoid laboring in the mines, so they rode the train for free.

My dad still clutched his sack lunch on the street car that would drop them in front of the stadium. “I wanted to hide it,” he said. “I put it under the seat because I didn’t want people to see it.”

After disembarking at Forbes Field, they were caught in an excited wave of baseball fans rushing to get into the game. When they settled into their seats, my dad tucked the brown bag out of sight.

The game got underway, but then a strange murmuring swept through the crowd. My dad turned and, up in the stands on the third-base side, he saw a couple approaching.

“The man was young, dashing. Black hair. Big smile. Well-dressed. She was a beautiful lady. Blonde. She looked like a movie star. People were waving at them.”

And there was something else.

“He was carrying a two-handled picnic basket.”

“What are you looking at?” my grandfather asked. “I think there’s gonna be a squeeze play.”

But my dad kept staring at the couple.

“Paul, you have to watch the game. Is there something wrong?” My grandfather turned.

“I don’t understand why anyone would bring a picnic basket to a ballgame unless they were real poor. He doesn’t look poor.”

“Paul, he isn’t poor!” my grandfather said. “That’s Billy Conn, the Light Heavyweight Champion of the World.”

Conn, an Irish-American boxer and local favorite called The Pittsburgh Kid, was known for being cocky and brash, his fights against Joe Louis, and his 63-11-1 record.

My dad continued to keep his brown bag hidden beneath the seat as he watched the game that day, taking a bite occasionally, hoping no one would notice. He wondered about the glamorous couple, sneaking peeks as they snacked on their picnic-basket lunch. He thought about what it meant to be poor.

A chance sighting of world champion boxer Billy Conn had my then ten-year-old father pondering what it meant to be poor.

“I should have been proud to be able to go to the ballgame,” my dad said, blinking blue eyes that look just like mine. “I learned that I shouldn’t worry about what other people might think of me.”

I thought about his wise words, a lesson he learned at the tender age of ten, a time he still recalls so vividly.

Thanks to the G.I. Bill, my father would earn a bachelor’s degree from Penn State University. When I was eight, I watched from the balcony as he received a master’s degree from Seton Hall. Because of his stint in the Navy and his education, we were never poor, something that, as a ten-year-old, he might have been comforted to know.

Here is a brief peek at Anne's latest release.

Bud Richardville is inducted into the Army as the United States prepares for the invasion of Europe in 1943. A chance comment has Bud assigned to the Graves Registration Service where his unit is tasked with locating, identifying, and burying the dead. Bud ships out, leaving behind his new wife, Lorraine, a mysterious woman who has stolen his heart but whose secretive nature and shadowy past leave many unanswered questions. When Bud and his men hit the beach at Normandy, they are immediately thrust into the horrors of what working in a graves unit entails. Bud is beaten down by the gruesome demands of his job and losses in his personal life, but then he meets Eva, an optimistic soul who despite the war can see a positive future. Will Eva’s love be enough to save him?

Praise for Your Forgotten Sons

“Although a defty crafted work of original fiction, “Your Forgotten Sons” by Anne Montgomery is inspired by a true story. An original and inherently interesting read from start to finish, “Your Forgotten Sons” will prove to be an immediate and enduringly appreciated pick.”  Midwest Book Review

“This was a quick, riveting read that really challenged me to think differently about our servicemen and women, especially those who take on the jobs that don’t get heroically depicted in the media or news…I really highly recommend this book to anyone that is looking for a different take on American history. I left it with a newfound appreciation for the unsung heroes.” Bekah C NetGalley 

“This is the truth. It’s gritty and painful and bittersweet – and true.  When you think you’ve read every perspective of WWII, along comes Bud to break your heart.” Bridgett Siter Former Military Reporter

“Anne Montgomery writes a strong story and I was hooked from the first page. It had a great concept and I enjoyed that this was inspired by a true story…It was written perfectly and I was invested in the story. Anne Montgomery has a great writing style and left me wanting to read more.” –  Kathryn McLeer NetGalley 

Available at Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Google Books, and Kobo

Anne Montgomery has worked as a television sportscaster, newspaper and magazine writer, teacher, amateur baseball umpire, and high school football referee. She worked at WRBL‐TV in Columbus, Georgia, WROC‐TV in Rochester, New York, KTSP‐TV in Phoenix, Arizona, ESPN in Bristol, Connecticut, where she anchored the Emmy and ACE award‐winning SportsCenter, and ASPN-TV as the studio host for the NBA’s Phoenix Suns. Montgomery has been a freelance and staff writer for six publications, writing sports, features, movie reviews, and archeological pieces.

When she can, Anne indulges in her passions: rock collecting, scuba diving, football refereeing, and playing her guitar.

Learn more about Anne Montgomery on her website and Wikipedia. Stay connected on Facebook, Linkedin, and Twitter.

Guest Post: A Cat, A Boy, A Bond by Author Anne Montgomery...

There was nothing extraordinary about the cat that stared at me from the pages of my local newspaper. He was black. Gold eyes. His name was Westin. He’d been at the Humane Society way too long. His $20 price tag a clear indication that if he did not find a home soon, well…

I called my son to come look at the picture. I told him about Westin. “Should we go get him?” I asked. His eyes lit up.

Within the hour we bounded through the door at the shelter, waving the newspaper article. “We’re here for Westin.” We grinned at the receptionist. A woman standing nearby frowned. I pointed at the picture again, wondering at her odd reaction.

“The story did not tell you everything,” she said, leading us toward a glassed-in enclosure, a place called the Campus for Compassion, where hard-to-adopt animals are placed for one last push to find them a forever home.

My son and I glimpsed Westin briefly through a large window as the woman ushered us through a doorway, around a corner, and through another door.  We somehow missed the sign that would have tipped us off that Westin was no ordinary kitty. The woman escorted us into the tidy room scattered with cat toys and shelves ascending one wall, where Westin quickly displayed his climbing skills. I sat on a small couch. Westin stared at me, then bounded into my lap.

“You get acquainted. I’ll get Westin’s records.” She left, closing the door behind her. A short time later, a young volunteer appeared, bearing a thick folder.

“Where did he come from?” I asked, as Westin head-butted my hand for a rub.

“He was one of thirty cats found abandoned in a hotel room,” she said. “We named them all after hotels.”

The thought that there were kitties nearby named Radisson, Hilton, Sheraton, and Howard Johnson made me want to laugh. Perhaps she read my mind.

“They’re all gone. They’ve been adopted. Westin is the only one left.”

I stared at the cat, now happily ensconced in my son’s lap. “Why?”

“Westin is sick.”

My son and I simultaneously stared at the cat, who appeared quite healthy and happy.

“When he came to us, he had lost a lot of his hair. We almost put him down. The vets here did a lot of testing and, well, Westin has horrible allergies. He’s on daily medication and will be for the rest of his life. He has to be fed special food that’s about $60 a bag.”

I stared at my son, a first-year college student who’s living at home while he studies to be a chef.

“I’ll leave you two to think about it,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “He’s been here a long time.”

“It’s a lot of money,” I said when my son and I were alone. “And a lot of responsibility.” We already had three cats, two of which came to us as strays and which live on the front porch, just wild enough still that being inside upsets them. We also have an indoor cat that my son raised from a kitten. And a cattle dog.

When the volunteer came back, I asked if anyone else had ever wanted to adopt Westin.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Until they found out about his problems.”

I turned to my son. “You said we’d split the costs,” I reminded him. He nodded, considering.

The boy with the blue eyes stroked Westin’s head. “He’s just like me, Mom. No one wanted me either.”

I stared at the ground. Troy is my third son. All of my boys spent time in the foster care system, before entering my life when they were teenagers, having been shuttled between group facilities and foster homes too many times to count, clearly understanding that there didn’t seem to be a family that wanted them.

I can’t say it hasn’t been a struggle. Westin suffered a ruptured ear drum and only wants to eat food that he’s allergic to. Still, he gets along fine with the other animals and is under the watchful eye of our vet. We are hoping that, someday, he can go without the daily doses of medication and the special expensive food. In the meantime, Troy takes care of Westin. They seem to have an understanding.

Now, six years later, while Westin still has allergies, we manage them. He and his brother Morgan are best friends, and we can’t imagine life without him. That’s Westin on the right.)

My son Troy takes care of Westin, a cat found abandoned with 29 others in a hotel room. They seem to have an understanding.

Here is a brief peek at Anne's Historical Fiction novel base on a real soldier.

Bud Richardville is inducted into the Army as the United States prepares for the invasion of Europe in 1943. A chance comment has Bud assigned to the Graves Registration Service where his unit is tasked with locating, identifying, and burying the dead. Bud ships out, leaving behind his new wife, Lorraine, a mysterious woman who has stolen his heart but whose secretive nature and shadowy past leave many unanswered questions. When Bud and his men hit the beach at Normandy, they are immediately thrust into the horrors of what working in a graves unit entails. Bud is beaten down by the gruesome demands of his job and losses in his personal life, but then he meets Eva, an optimistic soul who despite the war can see a positive future. Will Eva’s love be enough to save him?

Praise for Your Forgotten Sons

“Although a defty crafted work of original fiction, “Your Forgotten Sons” by Anne Montgomery is inspired by a true story. An original and inherently interesting read from start to finish, “Your Forgotten Sons” will prove to be an immediate and enduringly appreciated pick.”  Midwest Book Review

“This was a quick, riveting read that really challenged me to think differently about our servicemen and women, especially those who take on the jobs that don’t get heroically depicted in the media or news…I really highly recommend this book to anyone that is looking for a different take on American history. I left it with a newfound appreciation for the unsung heroes.” Bekah C NetGalley 

“This is the truth. It’s gritty and painful and bittersweet – and true.  When you think you’ve read every perspective of WWII, along comes Bud to break your heart.” Bridgett Siter Former Military Reporter

“Anne Montgomery writes a strong story and I was hooked from the first page. It had a great concept and I enjoyed that this was inspired by a true story…It was written perfectly and I was invested in the story. Anne Montgomery has a great writing style and left me wanting to read more.” –  Kathryn McLeer NetGalley 

Available at Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Google Books, and Kobo

 Anne Montgomery has worked as a television sportscaster, newspaper and magazine writer, teacher, amateur baseball umpire, and high school football referee. She worked at WRBL‐TV in Columbus, Georgia, WROC‐TV in Rochester, New York, KTSP‐TV in Phoenix, Arizona, ESPN in Bristol, Connecticut, where she anchored the Emmy and ACE award‐winning SportsCenter, and ASPN-TV as the studio host for the NBA’s Phoenix Suns. Montgomery has been a freelance and staff writer for six publications, writing sports, features, movie reviews, and archeological pieces. When she can, Anne indulges in her passions: rock collecting, scuba diving, football refereeing, and playing her guitar.

Learn more about Anne on her website, Wikipedia, Facebook, Linkedin, and Twitter. 

This Canadian Thanksgiving, Go Undercover with The Last Timekeepers...

This particular Canadian Thanksgiving, I'm so grateful to find a new home for my young adult time travel adventure reads, and would love to share the premise of Book 2 with you on our bountiful and blessed holiday... 

Did you ever wonder what it was like to fight the Nazis on your home soil during World War Two? 

In the second installment of my YA time travel adventure series, The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret, my characters must join forces with the Dutch Resistance in order to figure out their Timekeeper mission while in Amsterdam during 1942. It was sure a different world through their adolescent eyes, and trying to keep one step ahead of the Nazis proved to be quite a dangerous challenge.

Only a true hero can shine the light in humanity’s darkest time.

When fourteen-year-old Jordan joins his second mission with the Last Timekeepers, he and his companions are thrust into Nazi-occupied Amsterdam during World War 2. 

Tasked with locating a powerful, ancient book before it falls into enemy hands, Jordan and his fellow Timekeepers are plunged into a fight far more dangerous than anything they’ve faced before. With help from the Dutch Resistance and a mysterious baron, they must stay one step ahead of a regime determined to silence the truth. 

As danger closes in, Jordan discovers that true courage is forged through trust, sacrifice, and the strength of those beside you. But will that be enough to change the past - and protect the future? 

A fast-paced adventure rich with historical detail, THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS AND THE DARK SECRET is the second book in Sharon Ledwith's series of novels for middle grade and adult readers alike.

EXCERPT

“I wonder what else is down here.” Drake beamed his cell phone across the basement, hitting jars of jams, pickles, and relishes. His stomach growled.

Jordan pulled the cheese from his pocket and handed it to Drake. “Trade you for your phone.”

“Best. Trade. Ever.” Drake passed his phone to Jordan.

Jordan walked over and grabbed a jar of pickles off the dusty shelf. At least they wouldn’t arrive at the baron’s place hungry. He hoped his uncle had managed to stop Amanda’s bleeding. His hand tightened over the jar, the ridges of the lid cutting into his palm. A scrape from behind the shelves made Jordan jump.

“Hello?” he asked, pushing jars aside. He flashed the cell phone into the small, dark area.

“Who ya talking to, Jordan?” Drake asked with his mouth full of cheese.

“Shhh, Drake.” Jordan listened. Hearing nothing, he shrugged and turned back around.

“I thought I heard—” Jordan stopped and pointed the phone at Ravi. His jaw dropped. “A-Are you serious, Sharma?”

Drake spat out his cheese, snorting with laughter.

“Is there a problem?” Ravi asked, tying the bowtie of his tuxedo.

“You look like a penguin with attitude!” Drake slapped his knee.

“Say what you want, but I’m glad we didn’t hit the cleaners on the way to school now,” Ravi replied, pulling down his sleeves, “or else I wouldn’t have these dry clothes.”

Jordan chuckled. Suddenly, he heard a door creak open, followed by heavy footsteps squeaking down the stairs. Panicking, Jordan stuffed Drake’s phone in his track suit jacket’s pocket and waved Drake over by the shelves. Drake slipped behind Jordan just in time, before the small light bulb above the bottom of the stairs clicked on. Jordan swallowed hard. There, staring directly at Ravi was a portly man in a blood-stained apron. Tufts of blond hair sprouted from the sides of his balding head. His brown trousers were pulled up past his waist, making him resemble an evil garden gnome. In one of his hands, he held a huge butcher knife, its blade flecked with blood.

Wielding the knife, the man pointed at Ravi. “Who are you?”

Ravi licked his thick lips nervously. “The name’s Bond. James Bond.”

UNIVERSAL BOOK LINK

The Last Timekeepers Time Travel Adventures…

Chosen by an Atlantean Magus to be Timekeepers—legendary time travelers sworn to keep history safe from the evil Belial—five classmates are sent into the past to restore balance, and bring order back into the world, one mission at a time.

Children are the key to our future. And now, they are the only hope for our past.

The Last Timekeepers Time Travel Adventure Series:

The Last Timekeepers and the Noble Slave, Book 3

UNIVERSAL BUY LINK ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀

The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret, Book 2 Buy Links:

UNIVERSAL BUY LINK ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀

The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis, Book 1 Buy Links:

UNIVERSAL BUY LINK ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀

Legend of the Timekeepers, Prequel Buy Links:

UNIVERSAL BUY LINK ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀

Guest Post: History - the Most Important Timeline of All by Carol Browne...

Photo by Gustavo Fring from Pexels

Covid-19 is a game-changer in so many ways. It is making people rethink their lives, their jobs, their relationships, their aspirations, even their diets and the way they treat the planet they live on. The virus landed like a bolt out of the blue, illuminating the dark places in our lives and altering our perceptions. Many things that were thought of as important are now shown to be superficial and shallow. The way we structure our days has also come under intense scrutiny. Two areas of human activity in particular are undergoing a much-needed overhaul, and they are employment and education. People who can work from home during the lockdown can see the benefits of making this permanent. Meanwhile, many parents who have been home schooling their children are wondering if they should continue with it.

I was discussing this with a close friend of mine who has been working from home and is considering home schooling. She was concerned about peer pressure at the school one of her children attends and how it has had a detrimental effect on the child’s self-esteem. It is always hard to be different. It’s equally hard for an adult to do something different from what is considered normal. We often stick with the status quo for fear of being criticised. But, as the memes insist, the virus has shown us that normal wasn’t working. It’s time to create a new paradigm for living and my friend has seen the beneficial effects that home schooling has already had on both her children.

But this isn’t a blog about home schooling! When my friend and I were discussing different ways of educating her children, I reminded her of how we used to be taught history. We started as far back as the dinosaurs and moved forwards incrementally to the present day. As a result, I have had a mental image in my mind of every century down the ages with major events recorded on this timeline of history, so that I know where I am in the great scheme of things. I can see how mankind got to where it is today. It is like belonging to the timeline of humanity where everything makes sense, even the bad things, because wars have causes that can be traced back and great transitions, like the one we are experiencing now, can be anchored in time and better understood.

Do children still learn history this way? I meet so many young people who have no idea what happened before World War II (and don’t see the socio-economic and political factors that brought about that global conflict). Yes, they know about the Romans and perhaps the Ancient Egyptians but can’t pin them down to a particular era.

Photo by Fauxels from Pexels

And here in the UK how many of the people who are so proud to be British know anything about the history of the British Isles? Why do we use the words British and English; what’s the difference? We were a nation of immigrants long before the Roman occupation, during which time we really were British but not English. If everyone understood that we have all migrated here from other countries, would we rethink our current attitude to immigration? And if we knew more about our imperialist past with its horrors of slavery and oppression, would we see how racism developed and be better able to reject it?

Everything that happens is a lesson and the lessons of history will keep repeating on the timeline until we decide to take a stand and say no more. Only by understanding the timeline of the past can we see the need for change in the present. Allowing children to grow up without reference points or connections to ancestral knowledge, is not giving them freedom. It leaves them adrift in the modern world not knowing why things are the way they are. To teach children the lessons of history is to give them the tools they need to make their world a better place and create a brighter future.

History is important. In my book Being Krystyna – A Story of Survival in WWII I showed how intolerance for other people’s differences can lead to persecution and conflict. Krystyna herself always feared the Nazis would return, and looking at world events today I think she was right. One way to stop the resurgence of such evil is to make sure that the lessons of history are never forgotten. But first we have to learn them.

Here is a brief introduction to my book. Thank you for reading it.

It’s 2012, the year of the London Olympics, and for young Polish immigrant Agnieszka, visiting fellow countrywoman Krystyna in a Peterborough care home is a simple act of kindness. However, the meeting proves to be the beginning of a life-changing experience.

Krystyna’s stories about the past are not memories of the good old days but recollections of war-ravaged Europe: The Warsaw Ghetto, Pawiak Prison, Ravensbrück Concentration Camp, and the death march to freedom.

The losses and ordeals Krystyna suffered and what she had to do to survive, these are horrors Agnieszka must confront when she volunteers to be Krystyna’s biographer.

Will Agnieszka find a way to accomplish her task, and, in this harrowing story of survival, what is the message for us today?

Buy Links

Dilliebooks - Amazon UK - Amazon US

Born in Stafford in the UK, Carol Browne was raised in Crewe, Cheshire, which she thinks of as her home town. Interested in reading and writing at an early age, Carol pursued her passions at Nottingham University and was awarded an honours degree in English Language and Literature. Now living and working in the Cambridgeshire countryside, Carol usually writes fiction and is a contracted author at Burning Willow Press. Being Krystyna, published by Dilliebooks on 11th November, 2016, is her first non-fiction book.

Stay connected with Carol on her website and blog, Facebook, and Twitter.