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Ann M. Casey

An odd influence for a writer perhaps, yet it became the starting point, ‘The Grasshopper and the Ants. I was five, my mother was teaching me how to read from McGuffey’s First Reader, have the whole collection by the by. It was then she also read me that Aesop’s tale, I remember asking how he is the bad guy when he gave the gift of playing his music for free. The query was met with a puzzlement, so I stayed the path of the Grasshopper seeking the truth and still convinced he is the real hero of the story.

I had the good fortune to grow up listening with my dad on the back stoop to Bob Prince on the radio and Curt Gowdy, life spent between Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and Chatham and Orleans, Massachusetts. Both for the love of baseball. Though prior to this story another on where I came from was told to me. The tale went that I was found on the steps of Saint Luke’s in Manhattan and quite quickly put into the care of Catholic Charities and adopted six months later by the Casey’s in Pittsburgh. I rather liked the story and though Catholic Charities could tell me somewhat of the real truth, the first tale stuck with me and probably solidified road to being a writer.

As with writers, the gift is given and if not applied to benefit in love, that same gift is ill-used and rescinded. Such is the honor required to write and to seek the truth however impalpable it may be. This lead to not only writing the history of my own parish of Saint John’s, but searching the Catholic history of North America, for volume one of three, ‘Our Tenacity of Faith.’ (PublisherJust accepted by Dispensational Publishing)

The journey has and is not without its times of difficulty, yet one carries on because that is the job, to write and to write well.