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Excerpts from The Americans Series

Excerpt from Book Two of the Americans Series, The Scout of Wounded Knee   January 25, 1929  Wyatt Earp is dead. I read it in the newspaper this morning, though it’s been more than a week. I met the man once, in Tombstone, Arizona. This was before all of that O.K. Corral nonsense. I can’t say I cared for him much. The newspaper said he was eighty-years-old, which is a few years younger than I am. I suppose I’ll be sharing space with him in hell before too awfully long. If there is such a place, it’s where we both belong. When it first occurred to me to

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Regarding Native Americans

I've always had a deep need to understand how humans can treat each other the way they do. It's a vexing issue, hatred. So is greed. The atrocities born of these things are far beyond my ability to grasp. These thoughts are reflected in most of my writing. Maybe it's my way of coping with a world I don't understand. My biological father was Native American. Which is why I have a special interest in this subject. I didn't have the opportunity to know him very well. I spent a summer with him when I was sixteen. He was a very troubled man, and I was a very troubled teenager