November 2018
Lake Norman, North Carolina
We had been working on this project for over a year. Admiral Cortell had seemed more fatigued in recent weeks. His naps were longer, and his eyes danced less than they had when he first began telling the story. The cadence of the story telling had changed. There were longer pauses between sentences while he searched his memory. Carla and I were a little worried about him.
The always attentive Frank Williams had observed the same things. One morning during breakfast at the Lake Norman house Frank suggested we retire to the farm in Puerto Rico. Looking across the table at me he said, “That place always seems to recharge our batteries.”
“I’m game,” I said. “It’s mid-November. The hurricane season’s behind us.”
The admiral pushed his half eaten pl
