From Darkness to Light

The book you hold in your hand, written by my big brother David, is a masterpiece of just plain fierce honesty. And just like the dark secrets that could no longer remain obscured by my brother’s silence, the truths revealed here, the stories you are about to read, had to be published in order for Dave to feel that he had finally, once and for all, emerged from the shadows that tormented his soul for over seven decades. My brother writes not because he seeks fame or fortune, and not to prove himself in any fashion. No. He writes because this is his way of slamming shut the door on a past plagued by self-imposed visions of fear, self-doubt, and pessimism. This is the guy I grew up with from the moment I was brought home from the hospital as a newborn. My mother tells me about what that day was like. Our father had decided that he could not responsibly handle a family of three boys under the age of four, and thus, he had moved out and elected to move in with a girlfriend in a neighboring community. These were the early days—a depression, a war, an uncle being held by the Nazis in a POW camp in Europe, another uncle in a ship in the war-torn Pacific, and a mother stuck working as a candy girl at a five-and-ten-cent store, with a wayward, thieving, drinking man for a husband. A man who refused to work honorably and who ultimately opted to abandon these four struggling souls, refusing to look back and never even make a phone call. David and I spent many years in foster homes, while our older brother, Jim, lived with our grandmother. Finally, we were all reunited in 1949 with a stepfather who also voted for alcohol, slovenly work habits, and eventually divorce, over being an accountable provider. The first fifteen years of my life were spent with the man whose book you hold in your hands. We were inseparable. My portrait of my brother Dave is very much at odds with his own self-image. To me he was my everything—my constant companion, my big brother, my only friend. We were there to protect each other if needed. He slept right next to me in the same bed every night that I can remember. We played together, we talked about everything together, because the one thing that was a constant in our young lives, no matter where we lived or what the circumstances, was each other. He wasn’t just my brother. He was an extension of me. It was always Dave and I.