Karen Spears Zacharias in Miami

Karen’s last appearance on Beatrice was just over a week ago, when she interviewed Jack Pendarvis. Since then, she’s gone down to the Miami Book Fair, where she filed this report…

It’s Monday in Miami. At noon, two burly guys wheel cases of leftover cola out of the hospitality suite of the Biscayne Bay Marriott. Threatening black clouds pass over the bay quicker than a car driven by Tony Stewart, but Tropical Gamma turned out to be all huff & puff. Half-a-dozen people are lounging around the pool, glinting at the sun.

All the AV-equipment has been returned to its rightful place at Miami-Dade College. And the only remaining signs on campus of the Miami Book Fair International are the punctuating posters of a woman frolicking along the beach in a red dress patterned with crescent-moons, caffé latte and book in hand. “I spent the last 358 days preparing for this seven-day event,” one woman remarked as she reached for a ringing phone.

Kudos and hour-long massages to all those gracious people in Miami who worked their hineys bare, hustling authors, moderators, booksellers, escorts, media, and all those thousands of faithful, passionate readers.

I didn’t arrive in Miami in time to hear Joan Didion, Margaret Atwood, Jonathan Kozol, John Hope Franklin, Marilynne Robinson, Lorenzo Garcia Vega, Amy Tan or most of the hundreds of other notable authors, poets, and musicians. But I was able to make the New Orleans-themed dinner party, hosted by Mitch Kaplan and his crew at Books & Books. My friend Julia Reed, a New Orleans resident and Queen of Mighty-Fine Cuisine, would have handed out blue ribbons for the jambalaya, beignets and chicory.

Mirta Ojito, a Miami resident and author of Finding Mañana, welcomed me to town. Mirta and I met earlier this year at the Jacksonville Book Fest, shortly after our books hit the shelves. We were paired together then and again for a panel on Sunday. Samuel Freedman was scheduled to join us, but had to cancel because his wife planned a surprise 50th birthday party in his honor, which he wasn’t supposed to know about—and apparently didn’t until she reportedly insisted he cancel his appearance in Miami. Two elderly couples in the audience walked out as soon as it was announced that Freedman wouldn’t appear. Too bad: They missed the announcement that Mirta is leaving Miami for New York City, where she’s joining the academic staff at Columbia University next semester.

I dropped in on some other sessions, opting for journalistic presentations by Gerald Posner and Robert Rivard instead of the more glitzy fare offered by Candace Bushnell & Jennifer Weiner. Posner speaks with the fervor of a latter-day evangelist, while Rivard’s approach is so “just the facts, ma’am” I had flashbacks of Dragnet dialogue. One other benefit to taking in Posner and Rivard’s presentations is they’re both easy on the eyes. The new Vogue for men ought to give them consideration.

The only other panel I had opportunity to hear was “War Stories” with Andrew Carroll (left), John Glusman and David A. Kearns. Kearns is nowhere near as well known as Carroll and Glusman, but this schoolteacher has unearthed a frightful tale reminiscent of Jon Krakauer’s Into Thin Air. Where Hell Freezes Over is about the December 1946 crash of a seaplane in an Antarctic whiteout. Kearn’s father was one of the men who survived the crash and the 13 harrowing days before their rescue.

Thus ends a year of touring for me that included trips to the hinterlands of North Dakota, where World War II veterans treated me like a celebrity; a visit to Jackson Barracks in New Orleans, where a National Guard officer prophesied the collapse of the levee; an ice storm in Atlanta that shut down the airport for days forcing me to rent a car and drive to Nashville on my own (Oregon drivers are rarely shut out by bad weather); an appearance at Manhattan’s New School University where Bob Kerrey whispered to me that I sure was brave to write this story while my mama was alive; and a Father’s Day appearance at the Library of Congress where I collapsed into tears before an audience of my peers whose fathers all died in Vietnam.

I have meet untold numbers of a new generation of widows and children, left to cope in the aftermath of yet another questionable war. When I started my tour, I was reticent to comment on the decision to send troops into Iraq. As the daughter of a soldier killed in action, I did not want to do anything to dishonor my father or the veterans I love so dearly.

I have come to realize that there is nothing dishonorable in speaking truth. We have forgotten that the war in Iraq was never about bringing democracy to the Iraqi people. This administration sent troops into Iraq because of weapons of mass destruction. The only thing that has changed is the rhetoric. First it was weapons of mass destruction, then it was 9-11 and now it’s being sold as a fight for democracy. Cheney & Rumsfeld both ought to be horsewhipped for their blatant disregard for human life. Forty-eight children lost fathers in Iraq in October—they are among the thousands grieving their fathers and mothers this holiday season.

23 November 2005 | events |