IT IS ALWAYS AMAZING how generously people offer their time, encouragement and expertise to a writer they have never met before. For the writer, they are the bridge that mysteriously appears as he crosses an abyss.
In America, I am indebted to Mary Culnane and Joe Morganti, Serge Petroff and Hiro Sato, Irwin Scheiner and Cecil Uyehara. Kathryn Sprague, Nell and Nelson Branco and Luisa Cruz Smith read various versions of the book. Ann Lamott shared the letters written home by her grandfather, a missionary in prewar Japan. Knox Berger shared the notes he made on a fire raid over Tokyo. David Rosenthal rolled the dice with Harry.
In Japan, I was aided and informed by Toshio Kanamura, Misao Maeda, Peter O’Connor, Armin Rump and Allen West, Andrew and Mariko Obermeier. Takashi Utagawa chased facts, maps and charcoal-powered taxis. David Satterwhite and Clifford Clarke described the unique experience of growing up as a Southern Baptist in Japan.
Finally, Jish Martin read manuscript, translated material and corrected mistakes almost as fast as I produced them.
And Ted Van Doorn took it on himself to literally lead me through another world.
For Em