Tag Archive | memories

A Moment With Harrison Ford. . . .

I have a sweet spot in my heart for Harrison Ford. When I heard his small plane crashed yesterday, it brought back memories of days when the World Trade Center was still in tact, when the word terrorists didn’t make us shiver too much, when my career as an actor had just begun, and a few months before I lost my first love. who never got to see the movie, Working Girl. That’s the day I shared a hot dog with the famous actor during lunch break outside where the word was Never Talk to the Stars. Or what,I thought? and walked right over and said, ” I loved your work in Witness, especially the scene in the barn where you sang, “Don’t know much about history. . .”

The handsome young man smiled his crooked smile and together we sang the song on that glorious Spring day.

Life has changed for us since then. He’s married, I met another super guy and married him a couple of years after my first love passed. My children have come and gone; daughter has given me the love of my life , my grandest granddaughter now just seven who teaches me more than I ever taught her and talented youngest son Paul married Eva Stengade- they live in Denmark and we Skype- a lot. Instead of acting, I write-twenty stories to my credit now.

I wish Harrison Ford a speedy recovery and best wishes. Who knows if he remembers our moment in time and who cares.

I do.

Harrison Fords Jules Verne Award (cropped).JPG

Sandra Z. Pesmen’s listed in Who’s Who; I’m in Who’s This?

Introducing my dear pal from Chicago Sandra Z. Pesmen; a well known journalist in Who’s Who while I’m in Who’s This?

Sandra Pesmen 2012

In 1945 I met 14-year-old Sandy Zuckerman , who today, at 81, is Sandra Z. Pesmen, author, journalist, career columnist, speaker and Website host. We were in high school, where dating, dancing, partying and simply having fun were main goals. But the two of us, with our other special friend, Nancy Greenberg (now famous Chicago Artist Nancy Greenberg Plotkin) also were among the few girls in that class interested in art and literature-and making good grades so we could go on to college.  I went to Purdue while Nancy and Sandy went on to room together at the University of Illinois,

As often happens, we lost track of each other for many years. Then I wrote my first book, To Be Continued, a few years ago and contacted Nancy to tell her about it. She said Sandy could help me market it.To Be Continued newstyle 3D (2)

During the years we were apart, life changed. I married my pilot and moved all over the U.S.; Sandy and Nancy found their special loves and married to remain in the Chicago area; we all multiplied with children.

But during that same time, Sandy managed a full-time professional career downtown, as: three-time author and motivational speaker; report/feature writer for a leading Chicago daily newspaper,and features editor for Crain’s Chicago Business newspaper. She was inducted into both the Chicago Journalism Hall of Fame and the University of Illinois Media Hall of Fame.

After her husband Hal died in 1979, Sandy developed a Website to help other widows also “strive and thrive alone.” It covers financial, emotional and every day practical challenges facing wives left without a husband. http://.www.widowslist.com

She also began to give slideshow presentations about famous people she interviewed during her career called “Celebrities I Have Known,” then wrote a companion memoir “Stairway to the Stars: John Travolta, Woody Allen, Joan Rivers…and Me.”  (www.Bocomedia.com $10) .An amazing story, not just about the celebrities but how Sandy worked her way up in the male dominated newspaper business back then.

Sandy’s long-time career gave her media contacts throughout the city, so she “called in some chips” and set up interviews about my book, and convinced me to fly to Chicago for a whirlwind-and pretty crazy-promotional weekend. She met me at the airport and we drove downtown to sleep at Nancy’s city home so we could be at WGN studio for a radio interview with Rick Kogan for his Sunday Papers show at 7 a.m. The next day we all went back to sleep at Sandy and Hal’s home in the burbs, so I could give a reading in the Chestnut Street Bookstore in Winnetka.She also managed to place column items about me and my book:” Chicago Native Charmaine Gordon writes first romance novel at 76.” Give or take a few years, who cares?

Charmaine Headshot for Author Central

What fun we had remembering old fun days—and living some new ones! Three days of of laughing with my dear friends. Great memories.



To Be Continued: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/7283 – the first ibookbuzz book club selectionhttp://bit.ly/pfjmjs



Once upon A Time. . .

daughter and her daughter

my little grandest granddaughter pensive at the moment                          my daughter and her daughter loving the beach

in the ocean Once upon a time, there was a young couple deeply in love. Along came a war and then there were more. It seemed like the thing to do. While men lost their lives fighting this strange war, women at home, on Air Force Bases and all the Armed Forces continued to increase the population. Now, so many years later, I watch the younger ones who never knew of our service careers except through pictures and memories, frolic on a beach as we used to.

At Cape May, every night at eight, the flag is lowered, with the ocean as background, music plays God Bless America. The gathering of strangers from all over place right hands over their hearts and sing.

The Son Also Rises

The grandest granddaughter shrieks, ” He’s here. My uncle’s here.” Blonde hair flying she runs to the door of the rented home in Cape May, NJ. Daughter and I beam and hug each other. My youngest son, her brother has made his way, a 6 hour trip, to spend one day and a night to be with us. At the beach. And what a day. Daughter clicked away with her iphone thingy-makes me nuts, folks-to capture every blink of an eye, splash of a wave. Devotion of ocean is what we share-the four of us. Fond, funny memories of vacations past like the time their Dad’s swim trunks were tugged down by a serious wave and he mooned the beach. Ah well. See you next time, sweet time, family time.