"Interpretation of Harlem Jazz" a.k.a. "Drawing in Two Colors" art by German artist of the Harlem Renaissance Winold Reiss. (circa 1917, public domain) “Life calls the tune, we dance.”   ―   John Galsworthy , from Five Tales It was almost enough for me to simply join PEN American Center and set up a profile page without doing much else to qualify its existence. Such a page alone could allow me to relax inside the satisfaction of knowing I had remained true enough to my literary calling to place my name beside that of authors whose lives and craftsmanship had so often empowered my own. That idea, of course, faded very quickly as I further allowed myself to acknowledge something I have long known: you do not claim rights to an honored tradition just because a few books allowed you to bring them into the world or because you managed to cough up the obligatory dues. One claims a right to such traditions very much the way runners on a winning Olympic relay

(2005 model for Freedom Tower to replace World Trade Center) Before the hours of insanity and annihilation that changed world history on September 11, 2001, the month of September was noted by members of my family primarily as the birth month for at least a half dozen individuals. It remained, of course, their month after the destruction of New York City’s World Trade Center and the loss of thousands of lives, but the shadow of that event tends to lessen the glow of birthday candles and soften the volume of songs and laughter. Especially for those born on the actual day. Two years later, the greater impact of 9/11 was just beginning to unfold as the Iraq and Afghanistan wars upgraded to levels of mega-mayhem no one could have fully anticipated. At the same time, Facts On File published my Encyclopedia of the Harlem Renaissance (with Sandra L. West). That the encyclopedia was my first major book published by a major company added––for me, personally––greater emotional balance to the mo