The doctors, nurses, and staff at the Grossman Burn Center. Michael Gray, Dorothy English, and Sandy Francis provided valuable family insights to Peter and Rebecca’s story, as did Mahnaz Terrah with her insider/outsider perspective, hired as Zubaida’s interpreter, she also wound up providing personal care.Teacher Kerrie Benson’s help and concern matched that of every other player in this story, and Patty Moayer began as a concerned neighbor and became the official project translator in my contacts with Afghanistan. Betsy Hegel agreed to have daughter Emily’s story told and they both added truth and beauty to the rendering of Zubaida’s personality.
Since a story can’t survive in the crowded marketplace unless the public knows it’s there, we are all grateful to Suzanne Wickham, publicist, to Joe Bolduc, and to Victoria Lang of Plus Entertainment for vital promotional assistance.
Selected References
Thomas H. Kean, Chair, and Lee H. Hamilton, Vice Chair. The 9/11 Report : The National Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2004.
Nafisi, Azor. Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Story of Love, Books and Revolution. New York: Random House, 2003.
Skaine, Rosemarie. The Women of Afghanistan Under the Taliban. Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland & Company, 2002
Alexander, Debra W., PhD. Children Changed by Trauma: A Healing Guide. Oakland: New Harbinger Publications, 1999.
Fontana, Vincent J. Save the Family, Save the Child: What We Can Do to Help Children at Risk. New York: Dutton, 1991.
Parting Thanks to:
Big Sister Woodie, feline companion of ten years with the mass of a cannon ball, for teaching a living lesson via her complete lack of shame over total body fat of any amount;
Houdini, the Great Escapist, nasty orange tabby pulled off of death row at the city pound on the morning of his scheduled demise. Canine in his affection and persistent in his gratitude, he has rewarded years of training efforts by finally learning how to type, although the little prick refuses to write what I tell him;
and Grandma Ruthie for eloquence of persistence in her loving tolerance, and my nephew, Matthew Levin, who—at the age of three—named me “Uncathy,” because “Uncle Anthony” was too hard to pronounce.
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