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    Recovering Charles

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      For a moment there was no Katrina, no recovery, no helicopters, no Guardsmen to tell the holdouts where to go or when to go home.

      No politics. No hearings. No fraud, waste, or blame.

      Just a funeral dirge the way only the people of New Orleans could perform it.

      When they got closer, they “cut the body loose” and broke into the traditional “Second Line.” Joyful riffs, smiling, voices, and chords in celebration.

      Lastly, the funeral march played the tune to a song I’d only ever seen on paper in Dad’s handwriting: “Love Me if You Can.”

      The band played the first verse while Bela sang Dad’s letter-perfect lyrics.

      After the crowd cleared, Bela and I sat on the grass near Dad’s grave and wrote his second verse.

      Together.

      “Love Me if You Can”

      Tonight I tried to write the perfect song of love

      But all the words I sang were blue

      Because I’ve tried and I’ve tried to win you over

      And I’ve done the best I can do

      So we may never be together

      But my heart is in your hands

      And if you ever think about me in your long-lost dreams

      Love me if you can

      I know that you’ve moved on, it’s what you had to do

      I never had the chance to say good-bye

      It’s on my list of all the things I never said

      It goes on for pages and it keeps me up at night

      And my heart is missing pieces

      That only you could understand

      So if you ever think about it in your long-lost dreams

      Love me if you can

      So this song I sing is a little sad

      And it’s unrehearsed

      I just hope you hear that this broken life

      Has had a second verse

      ’Cause in those days gone by, I tried to build you castles

      And maybe they just turned to sand

      But if you can only love who you wished I could have been

      I wish you knew it’s finally who I am

      I remember how you needed me

      And I know yesterday will never come again

      But if you feel me reaching for you in your long-lost dreams

      Love me if you can

      Listen to the song at www.RecoveringCharles.com

      Acknowledgments

      My eternal thanks go to the usual suspects: My four children, my three siblings, my two parents, and my one and only best friend and wife, Kodi.

      Thanks also to my early-draft reviewers—Allyson, Ann, Becky, Christa, Cindy, Jane, Jeanette, Kalley, Larry, Laura, Laurel, Laurie, Matt, Nancy, Randa—and specifically to Chrissy Funk for her fine work as a research assistant and to Bill Roach for being my New Orleans friend and guru. Special thanks also to Cherie Call for lending her incredible songwriting talents. You’re a gem.

      You wouldn’t be holding this book if not for the creative and brave souls at Shadow Mountain: Chris Schoebinger, Lisa Mangum, Richard Erickson, Sheryl Dickert Smith, Gail Halladay, Angie Godfrey, Tiffany Williams, Patrick Muir, Jamie Barrett, Erin Crouse, Tonya Facemyer, Natalie Bellamy, Laurel Christensen, Chrislyn Barnes, Sharon Larsen, Laurie Sumsion, Boyd Ware, John Rose, Lonnie Lockhart, Lee Broadhead, Keith Hunter, Jeff Simpson, Pat Williams, and last, but certainly not least, Sheri Dew.

      Once again I’m grateful to York and Laura Faulkner for their tremendous generosity. We’d have peace on earth if everyone spent just one night at Harmony Woods. I also thank the wonderful folks at the Holiday Inn Express, Woodstock, Virginia. (I owe you a towel.)

      I’m extremely grateful for the support and patience of my fellow Church members in Woodstock, Virginia, especially my long-suffering students: Bryan, Caleb, Glen, Matt, Michael, Olivia, and Spencer. Thanks also to the Shenandoah Valley Chapter of the Mandate Association. (See you on the 4th Wednesday.)

      Thanks to my literary agent, Laurie Liss, for having faith.

      Most importantly, thanks to the people of New Orleans for taking Mother Nature’s best hit and standing tall. You paid a tremendous price to remind us all that America is still the loving, generous country the Founders dreamt of.

      May God watch over your long-term recovery.

      Table of Contents

      Prologue

      Part 1

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourtenn

      Chapter Fifteen

      Part 2

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Chapter Twenty-one

      Chapter Twenty-two

      Chapter Twenty-three

      Chapter Twenty-four

      Chapter Twenty-five

      Part 3

      Chapter Twenty-six

      Chapter Twenty-seven

      Chapter Twenty-eight

      Chapter Twenty-nine

      Chapter Thirty

      Acknowledgements

     

     

     



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