Authentically small-town American, yet spiced by Pelletier’s French-Canadian heritage, these stories beg to be read aloud and shared.

Fran Pelletier is a rare and wonderful storyteller. He grew up in Milford, Maine, in the 1930s, confessed to all seven sins at his first confession (thinking you had to), proudly wore a Lindbergh suit Mama sewed from puce and orange bargain wool (assuring him that aviators needed to be colorful), read aloud to his French-speaking grandfather after school, learned about chewing tobacco the hard way, played an unfortunate role in the derailment and subsequent sinking of a Maine Central handcar, and generally thrived in the bosom of his extended Franco-American family. Dogs, trout, and pigs put in appearances; an air circus comes to town; death claims a young friend; and Fran learns about life. B&W photographs