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Many years had passed since the old lady had gone to join her Fritzhugh in the night sky. I had become one of the country’s leading chefs, owned my own business, and was the author of several books, and also produced a popular syndicated column on food and wine. My mother had sent me Nan’s journals through which I hoped to fill in the missing years of my life. Reading them was a very emotional experience, as she and I could have been sitting together in the sand on a winter’s day. Her telling of our great walk brought it all back.
“When the summer began to cool, and there was plenty of feed for the stock, Ganan left with his family on the great walk to see his country on the coast and to visit his dreaming places. There he would instruct and groom his son in preparation for his initiat
