Carrying Each Other

On inheritance and obligation: my grandfather's experience as a prisoner of war in WWII

Note: I’m resharing this essay from February 2025 —one that didn’t reach many readers the first time around, but one I keep thinking about. It felt like the right moment to reshare it. This essay is a departure from my usual newsletter; it’s more personal than most.

This morning, the house was filled with what my son calls his ‘bird whistles’ - a newly acquired skill of his that makes our home sound like a menagerie. I’m equal parts charmed and annoyed by this constant soundtrack.

As he turned seven this week, I’ve been thinking particularly about the stories we inherit and how family history is transmitted. I have what my kids call my ‘treasure chest’ - filled with mementos: a matchbook from my great-grandmother’s house, a token from a carousel in Paris, a rock I’ve carried since I first found it in a creek in the hills behind my childhood home in Vermont, and, tucked in the back corner is my grandfather’s battered U.S. Army compass.

My grandfather was a fighter pilot in WWII, and aft…