EPILOGUE

Every man is born, lives and dies in historic time. As he runs through the life-cycle characteristic of our species, each phase of it joins in the events of the world.

—Everett Hughes

This statement* about the generations by the historian Everett Hughes reminds me that I am a passage between two resting points. The events in my life are shaped and given meaning by the world with which I interact. My grandfather could not have written a book any more than I could have spent my efforts tilling a field in southern Europe to feed and support a family. I came with different equipment.

And I can only speculate on the encounter between history and my grandson, for between the making of my introduction and my epilogue, he has made his initial contact point with the flow of human history. I entered time's river at a different point from either grandfather or grandson, and know that my thoughts and actions respond to different conditions. The voyage I take today may seem less meaningful to navigators downstream from me, where the shoals may be shallower, the rapids more dangerous, the flow more rapid. Because I cannot see around the tortuous bends in the stream, I can never know how those navigators will interpret my ship's log should they ever pick it up and try to decipher it. But the good sailor widens his field of vision by climbing up into the crow's nest and carefully scanning the horizon in all directions. Then, by using a combination of the record in his journal together with what he sees, he sorts out the myriad possibilities and chooses the best course.

If anyone in my bend of the river is helped by reading my log, then I am gratified.