In writing this novel, I have tried to be as historically accurate as possible. Originally I created fictional towns and evacuation hospitals to give myself the greatest possible fictional latitude in telling this story, but my Vietnam veteran readers felt strongly that I should name the places accurately. Therefore, the hospitals and towns mentioned in the novel are all real; the logistics and descriptions and timeline in a few places have been altered to support my narrative. Any errors or mistakes are, of course, my own.
I’d also like to thank Jackie Dolat for her candid remembrances of Alcoholics Anonymous and rehab programs in Southern California in the seventies.
I am grateful for the many people who work with me to make me a better writer. I am especially grateful to my early readers, who speak their minds with sharp honesty （sometimes loudly）： Jill Marie Landis, Megan Chance, Ann Patty, and Kim Fisk. And as always, my thanks to Jennifer Enderlin, whose passion for publishing and eagle-eyed editing mean the world to me. Her insightful critique truly made this book what it is. Thanks to the stellar team at St. Martin’s; I love working with all of you. And to Andrea Cirillo, Rebecca Scherer, and the gang at Jane Rotrosen Agency; we have been partners in this crazy world of publishing for more than two decades and I can’t imagine my life without you all.
As always, I thank my family for continual support and encouragement, especially my husband, Ben, who gamely travels and listens and bears with an author-wife who is sometimes sitting right at the dinner table but is far, far away in her thoughts. To my mother: the memory of you during the war years is indelible; thank you for believing so strongly in what was right. And to my dad, thank you for your adventurous spirit and for opening my eyes to the world beyond my own backyard. To Debbie Edwards John, thank you more than I can possibly say for all that you do. To my son, Tucker, I am proud of you and I adore you, and to Mackenzie, Logan, Lucas, Katie, Kaylee, and Braden: may you love, read, and learn about history. You are the future.
Finally, I’d like to mention a man I’ve never met: Colonel Robert John Welch, Air Force pilot, who was shot down and lost in Vietnam on January 16, 1967. He never came home. I first got his POW bracelet when I was in elementary school and I wore it for many, many years. My thoughts and prayers have stayed with his family for all of these years.