Painting the Milkweeds
Written by Richard D. Courtney
Reviewed by Dara Lyon Warner
Over the course of a lifetime, there are people we meet face to
face and people we meet heart to heart.
For me, Dick Courtney is one of the latter.
I first became acquainted with Dick when his niece, Elaine
Klonicki, needed some help to prepare his first book, Normandy
to the Bulge, for re-release in 2007. Consequently, the Dick
Courtney I first met was a teenager, growing up under fire – literally! – during World War
II. Four of my uncles were also in that war; I am an Army veteran myself, and so
appreciated Dick’s perspective on his own military service at more than one level.
Painting the Milkweeds introduced me to Dick Courtney the child of the early 1930s – when
my parents were already young adults. Some of the experiences he shares in this collection
of reminiscences evoke memories of my own childhood, 20 years later. Told simply and
straightforwardly, these stories drew me in, so that I could almost see Weamer’s store and
the house on 19th Avenue in Altoona, though I have never been there. I found “Brother
Aloysius Gilmartin” and “Little Dicky Lost in the Woods” particularly delightful!
In between the young man and the little boy, I have been privileged to learn a little about
Dick Courtney the great-grandfather, who still speaks lovingly of his wife, Connie, as
though she was his new bride; yet he clearly treasures her even more after decades
together. This Dick Courtney is a man who faces situations that would drop many in their
tracks, and does so optimistically – with a sense of humor and a twinkle in his eye –
focusing on what brings him joy rather than on what causes him pain.
In Painting the Milkweeds, Dick shows us his life’s foundation: values taught by example
within a loving family, sharing a strong spiritual bond. Even to those of us whose formative
experiences have been different from his, Dick Courtney has given a remarkable gift.
Written by Richard D. Courtney
Reviewed by Dara Lyon Warner
Over the course of a lifetime, there are people we meet face to
face and people we meet heart to heart.
For me, Dick Courtney is one of the latter.
I first became acquainted with Dick when his niece, Elaine
Klonicki, needed some help to prepare his first book, Normandy
to the Bulge, for re-release in 2007. Consequently, the Dick
Courtney I first met was a teenager, growing up under fire – literally! – during World War
II. Four of my uncles were also in that war; I am an Army veteran myself, and so
appreciated Dick’s perspective on his own military service at more than one level.
Painting the Milkweeds introduced me to Dick Courtney the child of the early 1930s – when
my parents were already young adults. Some of the experiences he shares in this collection
of reminiscences evoke memories of my own childhood, 20 years later. Told simply and
straightforwardly, these stories drew me in, so that I could almost see Weamer’s store and
the house on 19th Avenue in Altoona, though I have never been there. I found “Brother
Aloysius Gilmartin” and “Little Dicky Lost in the Woods” particularly delightful!
In between the young man and the little boy, I have been privileged to learn a little about
Dick Courtney the great-grandfather, who still speaks lovingly of his wife, Connie, as
though she was his new bride; yet he clearly treasures her even more after decades
together. This Dick Courtney is a man who faces situations that would drop many in their
tracks, and does so optimistically – with a sense of humor and a twinkle in his eye –
focusing on what brings him joy rather than on what causes him pain.
In Painting the Milkweeds, Dick shows us his life’s foundation: values taught by example
within a loving family, sharing a strong spiritual bond. Even to those of us whose formative
experiences have been different from his, Dick Courtney has given a remarkable gift.
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