"DTRSTARS" - читать интересную книгу автора (Whitney Phyllis A)

became a constant source of information after I came home and began to
find out how much I didn't know. She even talked to the Park Rangers
for me, and walked about Virginius Island to find answers to my
questions. I wish I could have used that charming library for a scene,
but this didn't work out. The town of Bolivar received its new name (it
had been called Mudfort) about fifty years after the American
Revolution. Simon Bolivar was popular in America and the press called
him the George Washington of South America. This was the first town in
the United States to be named Bolivar, and a handsome bust of the hero
stands outside the library.

I want to thank Paul R. Lee II for his lively and informative guide to
Virginius Island. When he wrote of the legend of the Shenandoah, he
gave me the title for my book.

My special thanks to Megaly N. Green for her enthusiastic welcome when
we walked into the Interpretative Design Building of the National Park
Service. She introduced us to Nancy Haack, whose beautiful maps, drawn
for the Park Service, suggested an avocation for my heroine.

Megaly also sent us to the Division of Conservation, again part of the
Park Service, where artifacts are expertly repaired for Park displays
all over the country. There I discovered an old Civil War drum--which,
of course, really belongs to a character in my story.

Every visitor to Harpers Ferry is impressed by the work done by the
National Park Service in preserving and presenting the treasures of
Harpers Ferry. While I strive to be historically and geographically
accurate, I would like to add my apologies for any liberties I may have
taken as a fiction writer.

In my memory I can still smell the exotic scents of the Herb Lady's
enchanting shop. I have borrowed it for my story.

A good editor is priceless. I have found such an editor in Shaye
Areheart. Long ago I learned to listen and my gratitude runs deep.

HISTORY.

THE TWO MEN in Union blue stood back to back in pale, early-dawn light.
A thin mist floated around them, mingling with smoke rising from rifles
recently fired.

The old man was tall and thin, almost to the point of emaciation. His
face wore an inner glow of exaltation because of what he had just
accomplished. The younger man, his son, seemed undistinguished in
appearance, with the blank, uncomprehending expression of an ordinary
man who had committed an extraordinary deed. True, he had killed before
in battle. Even in hand-to-hand fighting. But this had been an
execution.