We Won't Forget You Mr. McGillicuddy

Description

Gil McGillicuddy is a WWII vet with dementia. Robert, his oldest son, is a blogger on the internet who cares for his dad as Gil takes the long slide into the land of forgetfulness. When Robert's oldest daughter becomes pregnant and the baby's father turns to meth and violent behavior, Robert convinces her and her preteen daughter to move into his home a thousand miles away. 
Robert's radical blogging continues along with his efforts to help his family. His history of radicalism stretches back to his antiwar days at Berkeley in the sixties. In those days, he was responsible for outing an FBI informant in the midst of his antiwar group. This action destroyed the informant's future plans. Now, over 40 years later, the man, Fedder, works as a floor manager for a security firm  contracted out to the NSA to find radical bloggers. 
"Revenge is a dish best served cold, very cold."
Fedder quietly stalks his unwary quarry with the intent of getting his revenge while Robert continues to deal with the problems of his family including the worsening of Gil's dementia.

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About the Author

Author Name : Ira L White

     I grew up poor and in mostly rural areas of California and Idaho. I began reading early on in life and writing soon followed. When I was in college, I wrote a weekly column for the campus newspaper and have had a couple of poems published in obscure journals. Until I retired, I was not able to concentrate on writing much as most of my efforts went into my work career and raising a family. Now that I am retired, I am able to find more time to devote to my craft.

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My great grandfather was a Slave

My grandfather was a Native

My grandmother was a Bantu

My mother was a kaffir, Nigga, Negro

Names imposed by shackles

But an Afrakan I am

An identity my forefathers were deprived of

 

An identity I am now polluting with the fumes of cigarettes

In dope I am giving it another face

In ecstasy I am giving it a comical image

My drunken stupor gives it an unstable belonging

My borrowed accent contradicts what it represents

My imitated dress code conceals its beauty

My adopted religion undermines my intellectual prowess

My language deafens my ancestors

My values are valueless

My mind is discriminatory

It repels anything indigenous

Whilst absorbing all that is alien

None can identify with me

Even those I am emulating

Patriotism I reserve for my kind

I look down at my patriots

If I were xenophobic

I could have been my own victim

I pride myself in my slanted inferior education

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I am singing praise songs for my dying culture

I am branding a heritage

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But suppressed by fear

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Fear to be rejected by the world

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