Review - Pat Proft

Hi Mike,

I finished your book over this weekend. I found it hard to put down. It is a heart-wrenching story- but with a hopeful ending. I am so sorry you had to experience what you did, and admire you for the courage to "bare your soul" to help other vets. I do not think I would have made it through if I had to experience what you did. You must have a tremendous amount of inner strength. The very kind words about your mom made me think of how good she was to me. I was also very moved by the Vet's Poem.

While I was reading the book, I thought about my father and how he too did not get the help he needed. He never got past medicating himself with alcohol. In the 60's and 70's he was in and out of treatment for depression and alcoholism, but the treatment was so very crude it never had lasting results. In the 60's at UW, part of his treatment consisted of scrubbing a floor with a toothbrush- to get his anger out! It did not work. Every Christmas he would get drunk and mourn his friends who were lost on the Troopship Leopoldville in the English Channel Christmas Eve 1944.

There is a book called "The Night Before Christmas" that tells the story of this ship and how it was struck by the Germans. The book has been in my family for many years but I could not bring myself to read it- maybe I will someday. One tends to avoid topics that were pushed down your throat- he used to hold the book up and say "read it and weep". So of course, I never read it.)Towards the end, his mind twisted things such that he talked about being on the ship himself when it was torpedoed. I checked the manifest online- he was not on that boat but did lose many friends that night. Christmas has never been a time of joy for me.

I remember him not attending my first communion, or graduation from 8th grade, or graduation from high school because he was always too drunk to attend. I could never have friends over to the house- we lived in a crowded small 2 bedroom flat and he was always sitting on the corner of the sofa drinking and often yelling. My mom often closed up the house in summer even though it was extremely warm because she did not want the neighbors to hear him (but they did anyway). He would pound on the table yelling "I was a damn good soldier" so many times I lost count. The yelling got so bad that I thought about the meat pounder that was in the cupboard behind the kitchen table where he often sat drinking.

I thought about getting it out and smashing him in the head to shut him up-of course, I never did that; only thought about it.

My brothers retreated to the basement and played loud music to drown him out. He got worse when he lost his brother in the early 60's. His brother was a wonderful man who died way too young; but he was somewhat of a stabilizing force for my father. It was another loss that he could not deal with. About that time I brought a kitten home; my grandmother owned the house and did not want any pets but they let me keep her. But my father would get drunk and threaten to wring the cat's neck- he even picked her up and started to do it. The cat reacted to all of this stress by being very difficult and using the basement as her litter box. One day, my parents told me that they had taken her to the Humane Society and placed her in a good home. I made many desperate calls to the Humane Society to get her back; I am sure with litter box problems she was promptly put to sleep. She became a "psycho-cat" in that horrible environment.

My mother divorced him in the late 70's since she was so afraid he would run someone over while driving drunk and she did not want to be responsible for that. After the divorce, he lived in ratty apartments on Wells Street. He finally had to be placed at Tomah, where he died of cardiac complications from alcohol abuse at age 49. It is so sad that he never got the treatment he needed and that we as his family did not know how to help him. My mother has told me that he came back from the war a completely different person. Like you, he had a very high IQ- in the 150's-but could not handle college when he got out of the service-he was in engineering school at Marquette and completed 2 years before he dropped out due to feeling very nervous all of the time.

I wonder if the behavioral health folks where I work are aware of your book? Have you had any contact with Wheaton Franciscan Healthcare or with All Saints in Racine? I am sure they would find the book very helpful in working with vets.

You did a great job with this book- you had a compelling story to tell and you told it so very well. It was a very nice surprise for me to talk with you. Hope this note finds you well.

Best regards,

Pat [Proft]