They Called Him Cav

My father wrote this western back in the late forties to early fifties, when he was a young man with big dreams fresh out of college-dreams which had to be postponed by his stint in the Navy during World War II. He has long since passed away, but his book remained, gathering dust on my shelf when it should have been entertaining good folks like you. So here it is at last: a western with heart written on an old manual typewriter. The story takes place in the badlands of West Texas (where he lived), and is chock-full of all the sprawling drama, heartache, triumph, tragedy, and gun-slinging grit one could desire. The cover of the book is adapted from an oil painting brushed by my father back in 77-one of many. I remember it hanging on the wall when I was a kid. I believe it was his favorite, so I thought it only fitting that it be the cover. Now, finally, after all these years, my dad will get the recognition he deserves for both his writing and his painting.I sure hope that he can see what’s going on down here, ’cause I know it would make him smile. So take a deep breath, and let the troubles of the modern world slip away as you journey back to a simpler time (two simpler times, actually), the old west, and the 1940’s….