The sex trafficking of children over decades by Epstein and Maxwell was financially funneled through legitimate banking institutions in order to service the demonic proclivities of wealthy men. The Epstein Files has revealed how deeply rooted the misogyny is in our country and around the world. To be a woman of any age or a child in the United States of America is to be considered less than any man by the current Department of Justice and the United States government.

Once we the people understood the breadth of the crime ring, we demanded the full release of the Epstein Files. We want to understand who was involved and what their roles were in the perpetuation of the crimes against our children. President Trump signed the law for the total release of the files in November 2025. Despite the passing of that law, we have yet to have access them in full. However, the trickle of justice has begun as some of the victims present their case in hearings on Capitol Hill. Mrs. Trump, the First Lady, supported hearings on behalf of the victims. The hearings, at long last, commenced.

The determination of the victims has been inspiring to witness. Dani Bensky testified with clarity and truth about her experience in the aftermath of the abuse. The botched and partial release of the Epstein Files has victimized her along with the other children, now adults, all over again. She spoke of the pain of having her image and private information left unredacted in the first wave of the release of the Epstein Files. During the second wave of the release, after having her attorney represent and plead for her privacy, the inept Justice Department bungled it all over again, forcing the victims to come forward publicly to plead for privacy for themselves and their families. This mess was funded by we the people with our tax dollars.

Mr. Todd Blanche was confirmed as Attorney General of the United States in a split vote in the Senate. He is the same man who told the victims to Get to the point in his meeting with them—which he conducted only because he needed two critical votes for confirmation by two senators who withheld them until Blanche met with the victims. Alas, Mr. Blanche didn’t meet with the victims because he believed them and was determined to seek justice on their behalf, instead, he reluctantly met with them to secure his own power and the position of AG. Remember, Mr. Blanche botched the second wave of release of the Epstein Files after his inept predecessor, Pam Bondi, botched the first wave. Of course, she blamed Blanche after she was canned. These chuckleheads can’t even be loyal to each other. How could they possibly have any fealty to the American people? Or the victims? Well, they don’t.

To date, only Ghislaine Maxwell, who deserves to rot prison, is serving time. Not a single perv named in the Epstein Files, despite damning evidence, has been arrested. Please look to the UK and the round-up of their sleazebags! Their smoke-out included that indolent Andrew, formerly a prince, along with a few politicians and oligarchs, all of whom participated in the crimes against children. Why do we lag behind the UK when the United States was Epstein’s base of operations? He established, financed and operated his sex trafficking empire in the USA! Epstein’s real estate included: a Florida compound, a fancy Manhattan townhouse, a ranch out west, an island bankrolled and facilitated through with monies from US banks. They were all in on it. Businessmen, bankers, hedge fund hotshots knew something was wrong as millions of dollars on behalf of Epstein were moved through accounts—and yet, they questioned nothing and allowed this crime ring to build and therefore flourish for decades.

Hedge Fund billionaire Leon Black holds more sway in the United States justice system than a sex trafficked child born in poverty, desperate for food, clothing and shelter. Epstein and Black were in business for decades, according to the emails. Black says he knew Jekyl (Epstein) and not Hyde (Epstein). There were pay-outs to mistresses, buy outs, tax shenanigans, all matter of grift and theft! All of it handled by Epstein on behalf of Black. Follow the evidence! Read Black’s testimony! He paid Epstein millions since the 1990s for estate planning and tax advice. Over 100 million dollars—any certified accountant will tell you—even the most expensive among them, he or she collects nowhere near that figure in fees. There was more going on there than deciding who had the Diet Coke at the business lunch.

Who financed Epstein’s island? The private jets? Who paid for it?

How is it that the men who funded, sustained and/or sexually abused victims through the Epstein and Maxwell’s crime ring are walking around free? How is this possible in this great nation? These “powerful” men are failures and losers on every level that counts—as decent human beings, as citizens and as protectors of the weak and vulnerable. They throw their money around, truck from one fancy location to another, sail on their yachts that stink of seawater and piss (no matter how opulent), grovel to perceived power and in the process lost their souls. They deserve to fall like dominoes!

The rich are crafty, I will give them that. They know how to slow the roll in our justice system with log jams, stalemates, running out the legal clock with gobbledygook and excuses! Gutless politicians keep the racket going, and thanks to Citizens United, there is no cap on the billions the wealthy throw at campaigns in exchange for favors.

If you believe that the rich and connected are judged in our legal system by the same standards as the rest of us, you would be sadly mistaken. And, even when our elected representatives tried to expose the Epstein Maxwell crime ring and its participants, our Congressional representatives in both parties: including Ro Kanna, Marjorie Taylor Greene, and Thomas Massie find themselves out of favor with their parties and those in power. It makes you wonder why. Keep in mind Greene and Massie are exiled because they listened to their constituents in the MAGA party and pursued the release of the files. Greene and Massie had the temerity to say: the sex trafficking of children is wrong, the guilty should be held to account. Thank you for your service—you no longer have your jobs, but at least you can sleep at night.

They say that Jeffrey Epstein died in 2019 by his own hand in prison, but I have a hard time believing that. He was a man who repeatedly slipped the noose, and frankly, was such a deeply disturbed man, I doubt he believed his incarceration was permanent. He would never have committed suicide because he knew he could buy his freedom. He was sitting in that jail cell waiting for some invincible lawyer to come and fetch him for the right price. He was not plotting his own demise. Epstein had too much power, he trucked with oligarchs who manipulate politicians and financial institutions with ease. Epstein felt safe. Besides, these creeps manage to buy and sell their way out of any situation, even when there’s proof of their guilt. There are not only separate rules for the wealthy and connected, it seems there are separate interpretations of the law for these pervs.

There’s a major development covered in an in-depth exposé in The New York Times. We have been led to believe that Ghislaine Maxwell and Jeffrey Epstein were a couple, but they were not. Maxwell was in cahoots with Epstein to sex traffick children to feed her own sick perversion from the start. She exploited the children as much as Epstein. She wasn’t sexually abusing these children because Epstein made her do harm, she was as diabolical as he was! Of course, she was well compensated in millions for supplying children to the crime ring. Maxwell was also in it for the money.

Epstein (outside and in addition the sexual abuse of children he personally engaged in) had a girlfriend named Karyna Shuliak, (who may or may not have once been his victim), for the last 8 years of his life. Epstein sent her to dental school at Columbia, and set up her citizenship in a sham same sex marriage. (If anyone else is appalled at the manipulation of the immigration system by players like Epstein, you have plenty of company.)

Dr. Shuliak (she is a dentist whose education was reportedly financed by Epstein) is set to receive a 100 million dollar inheritance from the Epstein estate. This upends the idea that Maxwell was forced to lure children into Epstein’s scheme. Maxwell wasn’t Epstein’s wife, she was a business partner, groomer of defenseless children, co-conspirator and ringleader in their child sex trafficking ring! Maxwell was a founding member of this cabal. Her pleas from prison for mercy are hollow, and it should be of deep concern to every American that she has positioned herself for a pardon, and that Mr. Blanche flew to Texas to meet with Maxwell in prison. Soon after their tete a tete, for which there is no recording, she was moved to a minimum security prison for her comfort. Mr. Blanche denies that their meeting and her subsequent move to a posh prison had anything to do with one another. These folks think we’re stupid. You can write to the new Attorney General here to voice your outrage.

While the justice department squanders their energies on the likes of Ghislaine Maxwell, the victims are ignored. We are paying for this with our tax dollars. We are getting hosed. The Epstein Files is only one example of how little they think of the rights of women and children. The process at the DOJ inflicted more harm on the victims while continuing to protect the perps and pervs of the uber wealthy class who abused our children. As the rich get richer, more excuses are made for their heinous and illegal behavior. I hope Mr. Blanche experiences an epiphany and wakes up tomorrow morning with a conscience that encourages him to pursue justice for the victims and not the sex predators.

There’s the old scripture about a camel having an easier time passing through the eye of needle than a rich man entering heaven. These rich bastards believe their billions will save them. These men believe they can out run time itself, and somehow, on their deathbeds, will be able to buy their way of dying. But they will die someday, and they will be held accountable. On this side of heaven, the truth lives in history. The men can feign outrage, but we know what they did—and we know how they did it. Their sick perversions against children didn’t end with the death of Epstein and the incarceration of Maxwell, global channels remain to funnel funds (and children in poverty) to continue to serve their perversions unless we stop them. This makes the pursuit of justice for the victims here in the United States more urgent than ever.

Never forget how terrified those children were in dark rooms with those men—who can’t be called human—they are in fact, forms of the devil. They were old men with big bank accounts who felt entitled to abuse children—poor, unconnected, powerless children- they were sought as prey by Maxwell, the predator, on behalf of Epstein, a perv and a predator himself. The worst part? It went on for years after Epstein was caught. Read the testimony of the women who were broken all over again when Epstein was freed.

If we have any decency left in this beautiful country, if we care at all about children, if we recognize how routinely children are exploited by disgusting men in power, if we own the pain of these children, in order to be part of their healing, we will read these files and know how deeply this racket went and how those in power exploited those children with an ease that could only be described as demonic.

Heed the cries and excuses of the friends of Epstein as the partial files were released: I was on the plane but I never touched a child! I went to his home for dinner but didn’t see anything! I needed funding to research my academic project! It was just a walk in Central Park—Epstein and Prince Andy! Who were the people conned by Epstein? For starters, they were all wealthy or in pursuit of money, no matter how ill gotten. They work in the halls of power! They ran Ivy League schools! A prince whose mother was a queen! Academics! A president of Harvard who needed to cover up an extra marital affair with Epstein’s help. Peggy Siegel, a Hollywood publicist who offered to bring a baby from Africa to satiate Epstein’s sick perversions. She used her exposure in the Epstein Files to pose poolside, barefoot for a puff piece in New York Magazine to redeem herself. Wake up, Peggy. That ain’t the redemption you should be seeking.

Our government? Why do they behave as though they are on the side of the criminals? We hire these people when we vote. They get in these jobs and yes, once in the lap of luxury in the halls of power and connection, often become soft and gross gluttons of privilege who use our tax dollars to fund their dirty schemes. Harry Truman said “Anyone that gets rich in public service is a crook.” Yes, Harry! They want bigger and better jobs with our approval and on our dime. Let’s not sign the check! Let’s stop these bastards in their avaricious and power mad money grabs! Let’s elect good people who want justice for the least of our brothers and sisters, who want to make life better for the American people and serve. There are good people in this world, and yes, some are wealthy. Folks like the late Agnes Gund had values to match their wealth and made a difference in the lives of children. It is possible to do the right thing, but we have to fight for it together.

The victims of Epstein and Maxwell want very little from the system that ignored their cries. They want their privacy, their peace, they want to live their lives and love their spouses and raise their children, and yes, they need our help to do so. Our support. Our belief in their stories. They work hard to put what happened to them in a context so that it doesn’t haunt their every waking moment, but as we know, they are haunted and have to fight the despair and depression that comes with childhood trauma. And now, these victims, these children, now women, are being denied the basic rights of privacy from our government. It is unconscionable.

The government is hoping that we stop talking about the Epstein Files. They believe if they ignore us long enough, we will go away. We can not let this happen. The key to all of the dirty dealing is to hold these men to account, to hold them to their emails, their money laundering and their schemes. The perpetrators are cowards, quaking in their boots. Names appear in the Epstein Files, some as many as 8,000 times! They tell you in plain language what their intentions were for our children, our young daughters. And, in many instances, they are laughing about their perversions. Let’s put these men on the stand in a court of law. Not one of them has manned up and owned their sins, but we’ve got the evidence, the proof and the honest accounts of the victims. The women raise their voices in the hopes that this never happens to another child again. As long as these perps roam free, we have no guarantee that the exploitation of children will end. They won’t stop unless we stop them.

The defense of our children is the point, whatever peace we can provide to the victims by believing them, bearing witness and standing with them will go a long way to heal them. The banks will clean up their acts and be more diligent. We will elect people that represent decency and values, and not the interests of the oligarch class. We can change the world because there are more angels than devils. (By the way, the devil knows it, which is why he gets his hooks in deep.)

As for the bastards that think they’re getting away with it? They are not. Mr. Blanche, you are our attorney general now and we need you to stand with us, with the victims of Epstein and Maxwell. I hope you have had a change of heart after meeting with the victims. I hope you feel badly that you snapped at them. You can apologize for that, if you choose to do so. Please stand up for the children that were sex trafficked and change the course of history. Speak to your wife and daughters and friends. They will share what it is like to be a woman in the United States of America. We need a justice system that seeks it for us, and it starts with you.

Further Reading

For further reading, we provide a list and links below of journalists you can follow who have covered the Epstein Files for years and know the score. As always, we rely on Julie k Brown, Heather Cox Richardson and Katie Couric for insights, conversations and dialogue with guests and experts that give insight into this national and international tragedy.

• Adriana Trigiani Substack: The Epstein Files

  • Part One

  • Part Two

  • Part Three

  • Part Four

  • Part Five

  • Part Six

  • Part Seven

• Dani Bensky, Epstein Survivor: Opposing Todd Blanche’s Confirmation for Attorney General, Senate Judiciary Committee

• The New York Times: Meet the Woman Who Stands to Inherit Much of Jeffrey Epstein’s Fortune

• The New York Times: Should Epstein’s Friends Be Punished? An Elite Harvard Club Is Torn

• Politico: After Tillis’ demands, Todd Blanche meets with Jeffrey Epstein’s victims

• The Wall Street Journal: Epstein Files Fallout: 50 Famous Names and High-Profile Exits

• Department of Justice: Investigation into the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the Southern District of Florida’s Resolution of Its 2006–2008 Federal Criminal Investigation of Jeffrey Epstein and Its Interactions with Victims during the Investigation

• New York Magazine: The Grande Dame of the Epstein Files: Peggy Siegal, once the most powerful publicist in New York, defends herself.

• The Wall Street Journal: JPMorgan, Google Records Sought in Probe Into Epstein’s New Mexico Ranch

• NBC News: Congress passes bill to force the release of the Epstein Files

• U.S. Department of Justice

• The White House: First Lady Melania Trump’s Statement

• The Epstein Files Transparency Act

• Write to the Department of Justice: The Epstein Files

• BBC: ‘He liked the fear in our eyes,’ Epstein survivors tell BBC

• Katie Couric and Julie Brown Substack Live: Epstein Files Latest with Julie K. Brown

  • Julie K. Brown

• New York Times: See Who Has Faced Fallout From the Epstein Files

• Letters from an American by Heather Cox Richardson

• Nobody’s Girl: A Memoir of Surviving Abuse and Fighting for Justice by Virginia Roberts Giuffre

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The abuse and rape of children by the most powerful men in the world went on for decades, and when the law finally got involved in 2005, Epstein slipped the noose on a single charge of solicitation and spent evenings in a prison cell yet freely roamed the outside world during the day as though he were innocent. He abused children by day and rested in prison at night—on our dime.

We now understand that US Attorney Alexander Acosta engaged in legal chicanery in 2005 and did not do his job. He pursued a plea deal for Epstein after being presented with a 60 count federal indictment against Epstein drafted by Assistant US Attorney A. Marie Villafaña. Interesting that when it comes to the Epstein Files, women’s voices are silenced, even on the prosecutorial side, after copious investigative work. It is a reflection of how the victims were treated, or a better word, ignored. Thanks to the pathetic Acosta, Epstein was set free by the justice department to abuse more children and ruin more lives.

Epstein’s partner in crime, Ghislaine Maxwell, is in prison for her sex trafficking crimes done in service to Epstein, though there is plenty of evidence and first hand accounts that she too, sexually abused the children. Some say she ended up in prison because she’s a woman. In truth, she took the rap because she committed the crimes and was convicted. She deserves to rot in prison.

Every day there is a new revelation. The American people, regardless of their political affiliation, agree that there is more work to be done to bring the guilty to justice. We want to read the files in totality and have a right to do so. We want the free press to examine the files in totality.

It doesn’t help that the accused men are incredibly wealthy and wield much power in the business world, entertainment, communication, higher education and in government. The oligarch class knows how to buy favors, bury stories, and run for cover. The Epstein Files pose a threat and expose their vulnerability to prosecution. Of course, these creeps have everything to lose if convicted in a court of law, including their shirts. Their futures along with the financial health of the institutions they represent are at stake. You can’t run a hedge fund or an Ivy League university from a prison cell. They are shaking in their boots because the evidence in the Epstein Files is clear: there’s a record of their involvement—in their own words, with dates, times and disgusting details, including descriptions of the children they sexually assaulted.

Ghislaine Maxwell went on the hunt for children to offer up to Epstein (mostly female, though we don’t have the full files, so we don’t know as of yet how many male children were abused). Maxwell groomed the children and delivered them to Epstein, who sexually abused them and, in turn, placed the children in further harm’s way with the entitled rich.

Perhaps the most heinous aspect of the exploitation of children by Maxwell was her determination to objectify children in poverty. The victims were children who were poor and had previously been sexually abused. This information was gleaned by Maxwell when she “interviewed” them. She knew that the children were desperate and broken before she trafficked them to Epstein. Let’s think about this. Imagine the diabolical nature of a devil who roams the world looking for children in pain, only to put them in harm’s way again and again because she knows that the child believes she deserves it and has no place to turn.

I think of those children placed in dark rooms with tech titans, royal princes, bankers, professors, academics, high ranking cabinet members of our government and all manner past and present of elected politicians. How frightened the children must have been as they were repeatedly sexually abused and humiliated. Imagine their fear as they were eventually thrown away when they aged out of this sick crime ring.

Peggy Siegel, the movie flack, while traveling abroad, sent Epstein an email asking if he would like her to bring him a child from Africa. A child! From Africa! She knew what was going on and did nothing to stop it. In fact, she encouraged Epstein in the sexual abuse of children! There’s no pleading ignorance. There’s no excuse! Her emails are in the partially released files! And she is one of thousands on the inside of this thing! What did Siegel do when the emails were revealed? She hired a publicist and did a photo spread in New York Magazine to clean up her image. New York Magazine, shame on you! As if redemption can be bought poolside by a barefoot publicist in a sundress. God help us! This woman is beneath contempt!

It’s not only Siegel who fawned over Epstein. Whatever paltry professional connections and fees she got out of him, I hope it was worth it. Professional people, groveling before Epstein, when they knew of his 2005 conviction will shock you. To read the Epstein Files is to watch the systematic selling of one’s soul for admission to Epstein’s power dinners replete with bad food (ask Woody Allen) and worse company.

Men, educated men, learned, lucky, and powerful, who might have used their talent, connections and influence for, I don’t know—projects like clean water, world peace, cleaning up the environment, women’s health, literacy, equality, building up public schools, affordable housing, a cancer cure, you get the picture—instead, chose to use their power for the deviant sexual exploitation of a frightened child in a dark room. Epstein and Maxwell operated a foolproof system whereby the rich can buy their way out of anything, accountable to no one. To date, not one of these tycoon customers of Epstein has been indicted for their crimes against children.

Epstein’s island, ranch, Florida mansion, and fancy Manhattan townhouse were destinations of torture for children. The Zorro Ranch in New Mexico, a site of depraved criminal activity by Epstein, was supported by JPMorgan Chase and Google among others. The tech companies and banks have been ordered to lock down records involving Epstein for fear the corporations would destroy evidence. Aren’t there standards within these companies whereby they have a commitment to abide by laws? Shouldn’t they want to run their companies ethically? Shouldn’t we as consumers demand it?

The roots of this crime ring are deep, a diabolical scheme that blossomed over decades. It is difficult to comprehend the layers of the criminal activity and exploitation of innocent children and the men involved in it. And yet, the fat cats and tech geniuses get richer and richer, and farther and farther from prosecution as the revelations come into the light. It is almost a cosmic joke, and would be, if they had not engaged in illicit, illegal sexual activity with our children.

A friend of mine recently said, “Hell doesn’t await us—this world is hell.” And I don’t know if that’s true, but I do know that the children who were sex trafficked by Epstein and Maxwell were in hell. They lived as prisoners in forced servitude to old, rich men who abused their bodies with contempt. We would have to ask doctors and therapists why any man would do such a heinous thing, finding his own sexual pleasure in a child’s pain. Today, the more important question is why, if we know this happened—and we do, would anyone hide the facts to protect the bastards who did this evil to the children? Why do they continue to deflect and deny? There are signs of hope. The irrefutable truth in the partially released files is just the beginning of the landslide. The resignations are coming—fast and furiously.

I am in awe of the survivors—all of them, now adult women—who are determined to live and have careers and families and lead productive lives. They are articulate in ways no writer of fiction could invent. They remember details of their internment with Epstein and Maxwell, along with the names and faces of the powerful men who exploited them in those dark rooms. They survived the worst, and now they offer their experiences to us to make certain we join them to prevent the further exploitation of any child. They show up on Capitol Hill. They talk to journalists. They write books, speak to groups, help to free other trafficked children, and offer all they know to put the pieces of this scheme together so that the American people understand what happened and all they endured. They are the heroes in the story, and they have not yet been protected by our legal system. Their basic rights have not been honored. We the people can insist on justice for the victims. The American government is our voice. If we choose to disengage, then Epstein and Maxwell win. We can not let that happen.

The gaslighting by the current Department of Justice in regards to the release of the Epstein Files has risen to the level of an art form. Attorney General Todd Blanche believes we are idiots. He changes his mind every five minutes about the Epstein Files and acts like we are a nuisance for insisting on the full release. We are a step ahead of every con this guy is trying to run, and yet, as of today he says he can’t release the files in totality because the victims names appear in the files. Is he kidding? Where was he when the victims were exposed in the first, sloppy partial release? He is now using the victims in his scheme to keep justice from them in order to protect whom exactly? How ironic! How disgusting!

The partial release of the files in February of 2026 included redacted names of rich men (their reputations were protected!) as they exposed the identities of victims, with photographs (!) that have caused them further harm. Now, suddenly, the current AG is worried about protecting the victims? This is his latest excuse (scam) to keep us from reading the files in full. Mr. Blanche conspired with his predecessor, the unprofessional, rude and inept Ms. Bondi to keep the files hidden. When she got canned, she threw Blanche under the bus, blaming him for their joint ineptitude. I can’t help but think those two deserve each other. Despite their lack of loyalty to one another and their lack of professionalism on the job, it worked out well for Blanche as he replaced Bondi. Talk about a circular firing squad of two with pop guns! Those knuckleheads were put in charge of our justice system, where intelligence, empathy, compassion and an understanding of the law are necessary to do their jobs. They have failed us in every regard.

The Epstein Files Transparency Act was passed nearly one year ago. Mr. Blanche should stop stonewalling, diverting and pretending we don’t understand what he is up to. He is protecting the entitled rich and powerful and not we the people, and certainly not the children. Allow us, the American people, decide who is guilty in this sex trafficking ring. Our representatives voted 427 to one to release the Epstein Files on November 25, 2025. The president signed the bill into law! It’s time to enact the law and obey the will of the people.

Please continue to spread the word to release the files. Write to the Department of Justice and insist that they release the files.

The files available to Americans so far (read them here) are filled with damning evidence, the descriptions of dates, times, and follow-up emails of the men who participated in Epstein’s sex trafficking ring. First Lady Melania Trump, in her press conference, called for justice for the victims. Mrs. Trump is the only person, besides Representatives Massie, Green, Kanna, et al. that has come forward in defense of the victims. If Mr. Blanche were smart, he’d have a meeting with the First Lady and let her advise him on how to seek justice for the children.

Every day that we are prevented from reading the Epstein Files in total is a day we have participated in the ongoing abuse and sex trafficking of children. Mr. Blanche, your job is to protect the innocent, not to invent legal mumbo jumbo and schemes to protect the criminal rich. You took an oath. Honor it. We pay your salary. You are there to seek justice for us, the American people. Stop protecting the wealthy and connected at the expense of the victims.

When I was growing up in Appalachia, there was an old expression, “You’re either fer me, or agin me.” We are for justice for the victims in the Epstein crime ring. We are against the bastards that abused our children.

There are signs that we’ve got these bums on the run. Plenty of resignations by men on powerful corporate boards! Billionaires changing their stories and slinking off into the shadows to hide in shame! Spiritual gurus, including that clown Deepak Chopra, have all but disappeared. Not soon enough for that phonus bolonus! Health “expert” Peter Attia has lost his lucrative network deal and has crawled back under the rocks in Canada from whence he came. May they hang their heads in shame and hide as we bring the victims and their truth into the light.

Further Reading

• Adriana Trigiani Substack: The Epstein Files

  • Part One

  • Part Two

  • Part Three

  • Part Four

  • Part Five

  • Part Six

• The Wall Street Journal: Epstein Files Fallout: 50 Famous Names and High-Profile Exits

• Department of Justice: Investigation into the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the Southern District of Florida’s Resolution of Its 2006–2008 Federal Criminal Investigation of Jeffrey Epstein and Its Interactions with Victims during the Investigation

• New York Magazine: The Grande Dame of the Epstein Files: Peggy Siegal, once the most powerful publicist in New York, defends herself.

• The Wall Street Journal: JPMorgan, Google Records Sought in Probe Into Epstein’s New Mexico Ranch

• NBC News: Congress passes bill to force the release of the Epstein Files

• U.S. Department of Justice

• The White House: First Lady Melania Trump’s Statement

• The Epstein Files Transparency Act

• Write to the Department of Justice: The Epstein Files

• BBC: ‘He liked the fear in our eyes,’ Epstein survivors tell BBC

• Katie Couric and Julie Brown Substack Live: Epstein Files Latest with Julie K. Brown

  • Julie K. Brown

• New York Times: See Who Has Faced Fallout From the Epstein Files

• Letters from an American by Heather Cox Richardson

• Nobody’s Girl: A Memoir of Surviving Abuse and Fighting for Justice by Virginia Roberts Giuffre

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Ann had style. Dear reader, it’s just my street corner observation: good taste is apparent in all aspects of a person’s life when they possess it—good taste in the manner in which they speak, how they dress, how they move through the world, do their work, create their homes, cook their meals or write a story. “Good style must be clear, it must be appropriate,” Aristotle (and my mother) would say. Ann was always clear and appropriate.

Ann also had exquisite taste in music, art and film, but it never felt snobbish. She dressed in a sort of uniform: jacket and slacks, chic loafers, a white shirt with pressed collar and cuffs, her thick hair cut in chunky layers, wire rimmed glasses and a warm smile. She appeared tall, but I believe she was just well proportioned. Her natural beauty was magnified by her brilliant mind. She was the definition of beautiful inside and out. If a keen intellect is sexy, then Ann owned the joint. She wasn’t one for a big bash, she seemed to prefer the one-on-one conversation, so much so, I can remember details of meetings I had with her because she would offer the kind insight and encouragement that you can hear and accept privately. Ann gave the kind of support that would sustain a writer in her darkest hours. She would say something so wise, it would stay with me. When she made a suggestion, I listened. If she offered advice, I took it. There was nothing loud or bombastic about her except for her laugh. She was clear in the way she communicated. She possessed a curiosity and love of knowledge that is essential for the person who decides to make books and publishing a career.

In 1999, I had been writing for television, wrote screenplays for hire and had written and directed a documentary film. I took one of those unproduced screenplays with the encouragement of my wise friends Suzanne Gluck and Ruth Pomerance and wrote a novel from the story. I delivered it in the spring of 1999 to Suzanne, who had made her name at ICM representing talent that included Caleb Carr, John Berendt and Spalding Gray. Suzanne went to work. It was Ann who bought Big Stone Gap at auction at Random House and assigned her young editor Lee Boudreaux to edit the book.

Ann had been a film major at NYU, so she appreciated the dramatist as novelist. Later I asked her how she knew I could do it. She said, “You create worlds.” I took her observation seriously and began to build a world of characters inside books to give to readers outside of it. It was like being a librarian (my aspirational career which my mother followed) who liked being in touch with readers and talking books. I collected addresses of readers wherever I went on tour—we called it “The World’s Biggest Book Club”. When I told her about it, she said, “Keep doing it.” She was the reason I took to writing a novel a year. I had fallen in love with the form. Ann continued to encourage me.

By 2002, I had written three novels in the Big Stone Gap series and was ready to write a New York City story. I also wanted to have a baby. Women (at least this one) must plan every moment to fuse satisfying work and great love in their lives if they hope to achieve their dreams. Most planning is usually an exercise in futility, but we do it anyway hoping for some control. So much for that. I found out that I was pregnant. I went in to Random House to meet with Ann, my editor Lee and agent Suzanne to pitch the story of the New York City novel.

Before I was married, I lived alone in a small brownstone apartment on West 10th Street owned by an Italian family. I had gotten to know the upstairs neighbor Aunt Sarah, the maiden aunt of the family who told me her life story one rainy afternoon. Ann was immediately intrigued. The aunt’s birth name was Serafina. At the time there was a hit musical with the same title, so that was out as a potential title. As I pitched the story, I told the ladies that Sarah’s nephew shared that his aunt was so beautiful in her youth that the boys in the village used to shout her name twice to get her attention when she passed them on the street. I had substituted my grandmother’s name, Lucia, for Serafina during the pitch—because my short term memory waned when I was pregnant. I could remember Lucia because that would be the name of my baby if she were to be a girl. Ann said, “That’s the title. Use it twice. Lucia, Lucia. You know, the way the boys got her attention.”

On the way home from the meeting, I was sorry I had used Lucia. My baby wasn’t born, and I was the guardian of her privacy and I had failed. My husband dismissed my fear, “It’s good luck.” My friend Michael Patrick King said, “Maybe you’ll have a boy.” Then he asked me what I would name a boy, and I said, “Francesco Bonicelli Stephenson.” Michael said, “Why don’t you just name your son, Throw the ball at my head at recess?” Lucky for the mythic Francesco, I had a daughter. And Ann got her title.

Ann was a connector of people. Her wife, Annik LaFarge, worked in publishing and is a beautiful writer (I loved Chasing Chopin). Annik’s mother, Ann LaFarge, a former editor and teacher, wrote a book review column “The Constant Reader” for a newspaper in the Hudson Valley. Ann LaFarge was always the first critic to write about my novels, and I treasured her insight. When Ann Godoff took you in, soon you had a bouquet of new friends by extension. What a family. Ann knew how to build families, and to be a person of integrity within one. At Ann’s memorial service her brother, sister-in-law, nieces and nephew were bereft. There were stories told that were illuminating and moving. And of course, there were surprises. We found out that Ann painted watercolors, her glorious painting graced the screen on the stage, along with a Steinway piano, played by the brilliant Dan Tepfer throughout the service.

We found out that Ann’s path to becoming an editor and publisher was similar to hacking a path in a dark forest. She had a myriad of jobs that eventually informed her love of storytelling and a commitment to readers and their need to be heard. She was raised in Hollywood, and found her way to New York City. She did odd jobs, struggled, but because she read and possessed a keen intellect, the world of books would present itself to her, and she would enter it and never look back. It wasn’t easy. It’s a glorious community, and a demanding one. An editor is essential to the writing process- she or he reads with a keen eye and may be the only person in the world who is honest with the author. Ann as editor and publisher was a lover of the word fighting for the word. For the reader of the books she published, across non-fiction, fiction, autobiography and biography, it was a journey to excellence. Readers gained knowledge, and ultimately, illumination through the books she edited and published.

The folks who spoke at her service were all wonderful. Allison Dobson, president of Penguin Random House, described Ann beautifully. Scott Moyers, Michael Pollan, Zadie Smith, Ron Chernow, Elif Batuman and Ocean Vuong (who pointed to Ann’s art and commented on its whimsical charm) spoke from their hearts about the editor and publisher who pushed them to do their best work. But, it’s Dr. Jerome Groopman, the great healer and author, who honored Ann with a reading of The Kaddish. Dr. Groopman recited the prayer in Hebrew. The prayer of sanctification sanctified us as we listened. When I went home, I looked up the prayer, and a translation of it in English. Here’s an excerpt:

The prayer tells us that in our deepest grief, we are loved by a God with a love so great for us it can not be described, and yet, as vast and unimaginable as that love is, it will also redeem us. In the loss of Ann, I reflect on her family, on her beloved Annik, on her brother Peter, his wife Heidi, and her niece Lara and nephew Nick, on her extended family which included her mother-in-law, the late Ann LaFarge, on the children she godmothered including (our) Nick Dyja.

I thought about her professional achievements, about all of the authors she championed, all of the books she put on the shelves of libraries, all of the conversations the books she published encouraged, and how she knew the soul was fed by the written word and exalted by them. Ann changed many lives for the better through the books she edited and published, and we will never know the extent of it—her reach can not be calculated. What is the power of a library over centuries, how do we quantify its connectivity and power? If words were stars they would clutter an endless sky leaving no room for the sun. That’s the beauty of books. They continue to reach readers long after we pass, and it’s in that mystery that souls sustain storytelling through time. Ann taught us that to create a world is to make this one better—one book at a time. We know what Ann did with her one wild and precious life, and we are forever grateful.

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Every May, we mark our calendars to deliver the annual Origin Project anthology to its authors—the authors are students ranging from kindergarten to twelfth grade. For those of you unfamiliar with The Origin Project, it is an in-school writing program that began fourteen years ago with forty students in Big Stone Gap, Virginia. The late Nancy Bolmeier Fisher cofounded the mission with me and gave the organization its wings. Since its inception, the program has grown to serve over 30,000 students across the state of Virginia. For fourteen years, we have encouraged students to share their unique origin stories through the art of writing, and we are honored to publish them every school year in an anthology. The work of our students—from stories of fictional worlds, to poetry about their families, to coming-of-age essays—is diverse, thoughtful and brilliant.

Students are given a journal at the start of the school year to put their ideas to paper. The students write one article, essay, poem, play or interview, using their origins as the prompt. Their work is gathered, reviewed and published at the end of the school year by the Gupta Foundation.

A key tenant of the Origin Project is gathering in assembly, to introduce community as an essential aspect of sharing art. Our assemblies (or unveilings) are an opportunity for students to read from their stories in public and present their creations. This encourages self-confidence and the notion that the audience tells us everything we need to know about our work.

We would like to thank our generous donors for believing in our mission. Because of their support, we are able to provide our students with engaging programs and necessary resources throughout the school year. An incredible lineup of guest authors joined us during the 2025-2026 school year, and students at our events received copies of books from every single author. Donations go directly to our students and the programming that keeps our organization alive.

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This school year, the Origin Project gathered for events across the Commonwealth. In the fall of 2025, students came together at the Library of Virginia in Richmond for our Fall Literary Festival. The Newbery Award-winning author Kate DiCamillo (The Tale of Despereaux, Flora & Ulysses, Because of Winn-Dixie) was our keynote speaker. Finalists for the Library of Virginia Literary Awards, Remica Bingham-Risher (Room Swept Home), Carter Higgins (Round and Round the Year We Go) and JoAnna Lapati (Guts for Glory), led various writing workshops. We met again in December for the Festival of Trees at the Southwest Virginia Museum in Big Stone Gap, Virginia. Here, students could write about the exhibit and their own holiday traditions. Local author Kathy McElyea read her short story, When An Old Dog Prays, enchanting our students.

In the spring of 2026, our friends at Emory & Henry University welcomed us for our Spring Literary Festival. Kate DiCamillo visited our students, once again, for a virtual keynote. Bestselling cookbook author Jimmy Proffitt (Seasoned in Appalachia) brought our cuisine and storytelling to the students. An essential part of our mission is to bring students, teachers and artists together in conversation. We are grateful for our friends and supporters who sponsor our guest artists and assemblies.

Our team is hardworking, amazing and dedicated. Our gratitude to our Executive Director, Linda Woodward, and to our editor and publisher of the anthology, Carmen Baumann. We thank Andrea Rillo and Lucia Stephenson for their superb editorship of the book.

As the program grows, we find new ways to serve our students.

This school year, we were proud to introduce the first-ever scholarship competition in memory of our co-founder and director Nancy Bolmeier-Fisher. Nancy was the heart and soul of the Origin Project who believed that writing was the basis for every endeavor and a mastery of it and connection to the craft could change the world one story at a time. The Nancy Bolmeier-Fisher (NBF) Scholarship aims to support the winning students and their future endeavors. A selection of our Origin Project seniors opted for their Anthology submissions to be considered for the NBF Scholarship. We are happy to congratulate the 2025 - 2026 winners.

As part of the scholarship competition, we also promised that winning essays would be featured on this Substack. We hope you enjoy reading the work of these impressive seniors who have exhibited emotion, talent and resolve on the page.

To learn more about the Origin Project, you can visit us online at www.theoriginproject.net. To support our program, you can donate here.

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First Place - Aubrey Malle, Lee High School

Everyday Calls

Every afternoon, right around the same time each day, my phone would ring.

I didn’t even have to look at the screen to know who it was.

“Hey, Aubrey Lynn,” Papa would say, his voice warm and steady, like it had all the time in the world just for me.

Papaw was the kind of person who never missed a day. No matter how busy he was, no matter what was going on, he called. Sometimes we talked about big things like my future school, life, worries I didn’t want to tell anyone else. Sometimes we talked about nothing at all.

But somehow, even those small conversations felt important.

He had been in the fire department for years. When he told stories about those days, his eyes would light up. He didn’t talk about being brave, but everyone knew he was. He ran toward the fires when others ran away. He helped people on their worst days. But to me, the bravest thing he ever did was show up every single day with love.

When I was younger, I thought firefighters were heroes because of the sirens and the flashing lights. As I got older, I realized real heroes are the ones who answer the phone every time you need them. The ones who listen without judging. The ones who say, “I love you,” and mean it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Last July, the calls stopped.

At first, the silence felt too big. I’d still catch myself thinking, I should tell Papaw about this. I’d reach for my phone before remembering. Grief is strange like that—it sneaks up on you in ordinary moments.

But then I started noticing something else.

When I’m unsure about a decision, I hear his steady voice in my mind.

When I feel alone, I remember that for years, someone chose to call me every single day just to make sure I was okay.

And sometimes, when the afternoon gets quiet, I swear I can almost hear the echo of the phone ringing.

Papaw may not be here to dial my number anymore, but his love still shows up daily. It’s in the lessons he taught me. It’s in the way I try to listen better, care deeper, and tell the people in my life that I love them every day.

He was a firefighter, yes. But more than that, he was my safe place. And that kind of hero never really leaves.

Second Place - Isabella Lyons, Appomattox Regional Governor's School

Green

green (grēn) > noun 1. Any of a group of colors whose hue is that of growing grass or of emerald, lying between yellow and blue. 2. My birthstone, dangling on an inherited gold chain, resting on my chest, held up by a tarnishing angel. 3. My mother, her mother’s, and my favorite color. 4. My curtains draped on a dead window, cloth pulled across the solemn face of my home.

green (grēn) > verb 1. To mother. 2. To buy curtains in your daughter’s favorite color to stretch her into the sleeve of a house, clothing the warmth of her skin. 3. To contradict. 4. To bury your mother back into the green earth. I was four when my mother’s body, my grandmother’s body, curled into a knot in a corn maze. I knew red snow cone glaze, autumnal lips, and my mother’s hand as she sat by her sister, her eyes a dead window into the heat of the homeland, into the heat of the nightsweats, into the heat of her mother, her back bent over a stove in a dirt floor hut, roof full of snakes, curtains green. Cooking up something in coconut milk, never kissing her daughter, but always dusting her emerald curtains.

(First definition is adapted from Merriam-Webster)

Third Place - Danika Doyle, Governor’s School of Southside Virginia

Barbie

When I was younger, I thought bleach could fix things. I don’t mean the kind you use to clean your bathroom, the smell of clean, like everything is fixed, although maybe that too. I’m talking about bleach for your hair. That harsh, burning stuff that smells like regret and stings like insecurity. See, there were these girls. You know the type: effortlessly confident, hair like golden sunshine that shines in the light, all the right clothes, who all laugh at moments I didn’t quite understand yet. I wasn’t trying to be them, not really. I just wanted to grasp that confidence. I never wanted to orbit someone else’s universe. I thought, maybe if my hair looked like theirs, I’d feel like I belonged. If my hair stayed pinned straight, gleamed in the sun, and made me buzz around the school. So, I did it. I bought a box of drugstore bleach and locked myself in the bathroom like I was doing something brave.

Soon, my nose turned up as I smelled the 2 parts mixing in the bowl like a science experiment, a purple mixture that would change my life forever. YouTube videos, specifically non-scholary, shouted in the background as I carefully painted my scalp like a longscape painting. Half an hour later, my head was on fire and I smelled like a chemical plant. As I stared in the mirror, the reflection looking back, I saw an adolescent mind with a Walmart bag tied to her head. I did not recognize myself. But when that 30-minute timer buzzed and beeped, I saw the orange, patchy, but blonde

hair I had longed for in my dreams. Honestly, I hated it, but I didn’t say that. I walked into school the next day pretending to be confident, my head held high while my mind was running a million miles an hour, palms sweaty, pretending this was the real me. For a second, I felt it. That little hum of approval, “Oh, your hair!”, that middle school high of being noticed. When you feel like you are on top of the world. After the first few awkward conversations of approval, it wore off, because when you change yourself to fit in, you’re just wearing a costume. This wasn’t me. I could feel it, in my hair, in my skin, in the awkwardness of pretending to be someone I wasn’t.

The thing is, my natural hair? It’s wild. It doesn’t always cooperate, but it’s who I am. It curls in waves that shoot out in all directions, it frizzes up when it’s humid, and it has this personality that I didn’t realize I was trying to bleach out of existence. Slapping on alkaline agents that burn through confidence like a match to wood not only damaged my hair, but my self-image. I thought I needed to change to be beautiful. I then realized all I really needed was to stop apologizing for being myself.

So yeah, that day I bleached my hair? It was about learning the hard way that authenticity is louder than any trend, stronger than any insecurity. Now, I wear my hair the way it grows out of my head. I love it. I honor it. Even on the messy days, especially on the messy days, because it is mine. Imagination will make your hair smell strong, weaken your smile, and question what you know. Most importantly, I’ve realized the people worth keeping around don’t need you to bleach away anything.

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21 Main

Friday, May 29, 2026
10:45 AM

719 North Beach Boulevard, North Myrtle Beach, SC 29582

Silver Coast Winery

Friday, May 29, 2026
5:30 PM

6680 Barbeque Road NW, Ocean Isle Beach, NC 28469

The Chapel on Sycamore

Sunday, May 31, 2026
3:00 PM

318 Sycamore St, Decatur, GA 30030

Lunch and Lit

Monday, June 1, 2026
12:00 PM

207 S Main St, Greenville, SC 29601

Books Over Drinks

Monday, June 1, 2026
7:30 PM

130 S. Main St, Greenville, SC 29601

The Colonnade at Revolution Mill

Tuesday, June 2, 2026
12:00 PM

900 Revolution Mill Dr, Greensboro, NC 27405

Quail Ridge Books & Music

Tuesday, June 2, 2026
6:30 PM

4209-100 Lassiter Mill Rd, Raleigh, NC 27609

Otis Johnson Cultural Arts Center

Wednesday, June 3, 2026
6:30 PM

201 Montgomery Street, Savannah, GA 31401

The Rotary Center at Oscar Frazier park

Thursday, June 4, 2026
11:00 AM

11 Recreation Ct, Bluffton, SC 29910

Lance Hall at Circular Congregational Church

Thursday, June 4, 2026
6:00 PM

150 Meeting Street, Charleston, SC 29401

Spring Lake Theatre

Friday, June 5, 2026
6:00 PM

300 Madison Ave, Spring Lake, NJ 07762

Bethany Beach Books

Saturday, June 6, 2026
1:00 PM

Signing

99 Garfield Pkwy, Bethany Beach, DE 19930

Lewes Public Library

Saturday, June 6, 2026
5:00 PM

111 Adams Ave., Lewes, DE 19971

Severna Park

Sunday, June 7, 2026
1:00 PM

555 Baltimore Annapolis Blvd, Severna Park, MD 21146-3809

Brooklyn Branch, Combined Large Meeting Room

Monday, June 8, 2026
7:00 PM

7619 Memphis Ave, Brooklyn, OH 44144

Giuseppe’s Ritrovo

Tuesday, June 9, 2026
12:00 PM

2268 East Main Street, Bexley, OH 43209

The Sycamore at Mallow Run

Tuesday, June 9, 2026
6:30 PM

7070 W Whiteland Rd, Bargersville, IN 46106

St. Louis County Library, Clark Family Library

Wednesday, June 10, 2026
7:00 PM

1640 S. Lindbergh Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63131-3598

Page & Palette

Thursday, June 11, 2026
6:00 PM

32 S Section St, Fairhope, AL 36532

The Next Chapter LI

Friday, June 12, 2026
7:00 PM

204 New York Ave, Huntington, NY 11743

Avon Free Public Library

Saturday, June 13, 2026
2:00 PM

281 Country Club Road, Avon, CT 06001

An Unlikely Story

Monday, June 15, 2026
6:30 PM

111 South Street, Plainville, MA 02762

Mitchell’s Book Corner

Wednesday, June 17, 2026
11:00 AM

54 Main Street, Nantucket, MA 02554-0176

Bunch of Grapes Bookstore

Thursday, June 18, 2026
7:00 PM

23 Main Street, Vineyard Haven, MA 02568

The Bookshelf

Friday, June 26, 2026
6:00 PM

126 S. Broad Street, Thomasville, GA 31792

St. Simons Casino Theater

Tuesday, July 7, 2026
10:30 AM

550 Beachview Drive, St. Simons Island, GA 31522

The King and Prince

Wednesday, July 8, 2026
5:00 PM

201 Arnold Rd, St Simons Island, GA 31522

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The House Oversight Committee heard testimony from victims earlier this month, and recently from Epstein’s former assistant Sarah Kellen. Ms. Kellen shared that she too was a victim of Epstein. Julie k Brown, the Pulitzer prize winning journalist of the Miami Herald, chronicled Kellen’s story on Substack. We recommend you consider subscribing to Ms. Brown’s substack- she is the gold standard in journalism.

The Epstein Files by Julie K. Brown

Who is Sarah Kellen and why wasn't she charged with Epstein-related crimes?

Sarah Kellen once told New York federal prosecutors that she thought of Jeffrey Epstein as “God-like” because he effectively dominated her existence, not only financially, but also mentally and emotionally…

Read more

3 months ago · 418 likes · 16 comments · Julie k Brown

The release of the Epstein Files, which was signed into law last year, has not been enforced. Pam Bondi, the former Attorney General did not do her job defending the innocent. In fact, she ignored them—publicly. It’s up to us to encourage the current Attorney General, Todd Blanche, to defend the victims. You can write to AG Blanche here. Give him a simple message: Justice for the victims of Epstein and Maxwell. Feel free to share this link with every American you know. They keep track of the numbers— dissent is one click away.

First Lady Melania Trump held a press conference about the Epstein Files on April 9th to explain the nature of her social interaction with Epstein and Maxwell and to stop the inferences that she somehow knew of their sex trafficking and those who participated. She finished the press conference with a recommendation that a congressional hearing be conducted that would allow the victims to tell their side of the story and to seek justice for the crimes that had been done to them. As a young model in the fashion industry back in the day and an immigrant from a small European country (Slovenia), she probably knows a little something about the potential and reality of the exploitation of children by adults in fashion and film. I noticed her mother and father were always close to her—and perhaps that is what saved young Melania from the horrific fate that befell the victims.

The children trafficked and raped by Epstein and Maxwell are now grown women. The victims are studies in reinvention and resilience, but they are women, which means their voices matter less in our culture, and in some circles, not at all.

The voices that have been muted or ignored include the First Lady. In a recent essay, I supported Mrs. Trump’s plea for a congressional hearing on behalf the victims. In the days that followed her press conference, very little support and coverage appeared about Mrs. Trump’s mandate in the press conference speech. Her hats got more coverage in the news sphere than her pleas for Epstein’s victims. I was surprised by this because I felt her plea on behalf of the victims was in earnest. But, it turns out that politics these days are not only divisive but intractable on either side even in obvious matters that rely on common sense. When a suggestion is made to defend the innocent, it shouldn’t matter where it came from- all people should unite against the evil. The foundation of unity is truth. Unfortunately, the foundation of politics is to win, and worse, to remain loyal to a party instead of a moral imperative. Evidently, common sense can not compete with chest thumping as some hope to retain their current power and others hope to regain it.

There was a pop-up museum in New York City with the Epstein files displayed for all to visit. It was difficult to get a ticket to tour inside, the tickets sold out instantly. Visitors tell me that the tour was sobering, and that they left the exhibition with much to think about. Many believe we don’t need an artistic interpretation of the degradation of our children—we need to see these bastards in court. I believe any effort to keep the Epstein Files in the news and central in the American conversation is important.

There are plenty of signs that indicate the American people have not forsaken the victims. It turns out some of people who were friends with Epstein and Maxwell, who went to him for money and access, have realized the error of their ways. As we continue to put the pressure on the perps, they resign their leadership positions in shame. While others hold on to their offices and continue to lie under oath about their knowledge and involvement, the only tool we have left to defend the victims is our ferocity of purpose.

At the heart of every single one of the victims’ stories, including Virginia Guiffre, there lies a vow to expose the criminals so this abuse never happens to another child again. The victims are pure of intent and heart. We need a government that does the same. After all, we elected them. They work for us.

How did this happen? How did Epstein and Maxwell get away with it? Epstein slipped the noose from the start. He should have been in prison 30 years before he found himself in a Manhattan jail. He was the luckiest bastard on the planet. You and I would have landed in the slammer sooner and for much, much less. But Epstein had plans from the start as most criminals do. His drive to be wealthy was not about funding Harvard’s research department or providing scholarships for needy kids. Those efforts were just smokescreens for the crime. Great wealth gave him access to other wealthy people, and he needed millions to fuel his scheme. He needed a bottomless pit of access to wealthy men to grow his global crime ring. He needed Maxwell to put him in rooms with the right people- socially and financially connected bums to perpetrate their sex trafficking scheme. Both Epstein and Maxwell sexually abused the children. They needed vast amounts of money to stay in this dirty business. Epstein needed jets, islands, ranches and townhouses. He needed influence and power and connections. The only way for him to successfully sex traffick children was to have privileged, entitled people go along with it. It was a global scheme. Every victim was poor, unprotected and unconnected—the opposite of the men that raped them.

There is evidence early on that Epstein wasn’t right in the head. And yet, those around him gave him the breadth and space to build his wealth and become a monster over decades. You may believe the “suicide note” but I wonder. A demon like Epstein would never believe that his own marker had come due because he had successfully skirted the law at every turn. Think about it. He died privileged. He was sitting in that jail cell with family on the outside. He had money and a lawyer. He had powerful friends in government. I surmise that he was certain he could buy his way out of his current dilemma. Surely, the old Epstein magic would work one more time. I don’t think he killed himself, but I know that he killed the souls of many of our children. He left them in a world in which they had to piece themselves back together and carry on. Senator Kennedy shared our opinion.

It seems in retrospect, plenty of people knew something was terribly wrong with Epstein and Maxwell. Ask Epstein’s neighbors in Florida. They knew something was not right. A few of them called local law enforcement. Ask the wealthy folks of good intent who refused to meet with him. They too knew something was off. There were as many suspicious folks in the orbit of Epstein and Maxwell as there were participants. This is the tragedy of the scheme. Good people suspected the worst, and nothing was done to stop them. Alexander Acosta, the Florida DA who coddled Epstein legally should hang his head in shame- he could have put an end to Epstein and Maxwell years earlier. Because of the callous ineptitude of Alexander Acosta, and the puny sentences levied against Epstein of two counts of prostitution, Epstein and Maxwell continued forth with their scheme. I hope that Acosta never has a decent night’s rest. He made a mockery of the law and led the public to believe that the two counts of prostitution against Epstein wasn’t a big deal! I would like to add Acosta’s name to the list of misogynists who threw gas on Epstein’s scheme and lit the match. And yet, despite Acosta’s best efforts to support Epstein, the truth began to emerge, and it became undeniable.

Epstein and Maxwell are liars. Parents have taught their children not to lie since the beginning of time because its not about the lie itself. It’s about the habit that forms around disregarding the truth. Lies become a way of life, and get the liar what he wants.

Epstein’s lies started at the beginning of his story. When it was discovered that young Epstein lied on his resume for a job at Bear Stearns (HR had vetted his resume after Epstein was hired), it was revealed that Epstein lied about graduating from two California universities which he had not attended. Keep in mind Epstein was not a college graduate at all, even though he worked as a high school teacher at Dalton, a private school in New York City. There were wealthy contacts to be made at the Upper East Side school, but elementary and high school education wasn’t fertile enough for Epstein, so he moved on to find a place in the lucrative business world of Wall Street.

When Epstein’s boss Alan Greenberg found out that Epstein lied on his resume, he called him into his office. Greenberg was set to fire Epstein for falsifying his resume. Epstein explained that if he hadn’t lied about his education, he would have never gotten the job. Greenberg took pity on Epstein and empathized with the poor kid from Coney Island. Ultimately, he let Epstein stay on at Bear Stearns. That was the first rubicon crossed that saved Epstein and set the course for his scheme.

The lies on his resume were indicative of Epstein’s self loathing that begat the entire crime ring and desperation to associate with wealthy people. Bear Stearns allowed Epstein to stay on the job which gave the world Epstein the financier. They legitimized Epstein the liar with the excuse that the young man had promise. The general feeling was, so what, Epstein lied about his education. It’s a small lie made by a guy who just wanted a shot to get ahead. But it wasn’t a small lie—it was an indication that Epstein couldn’t be trusted. We know he had talent with numbers; he built his personal wealth on the backs of those who already had it. Epstein thrived because the men around him allowed it.

Soon, a pattern of lies formed beyond the initial ones, all to gain the trust of the rich in order to build Epstein’s own wealth. Epstein knew social standing mattered, so he and Maxwell began to play the part of a couple. Epstein had to appear to be in a couple because that’s a requirement of society—and getting into the social circles that matter. They were anything but a romantic couple. They were deviants who joined forces to create a global sex trafficking business. Epstein was so diabolical and cunning, he knew the drill. Throw dinner parties with movers and shakers, whomever he could think of that might lend him legitimacy. Politicians. Royals. Hollywood directors. Journalists. Academics. They too were being used, but you could argue that most of those folks were also on the take. They socialized for the connections that would give them access to college admissions for their kids or the funding of a research department at a fancy school, or the financing for a Hollywood movie. Sometimes, in the case of creepy Larry Summers, the former president of Harvard, it was to have Epstein hook him up with an unsuspecting woman outside of his marriage. But when it came to Summers, it was also about the money. When Epstein began doling out millions to universities and investing in businesses, many wondered how he built his wealth, but they took the money anyway. There are still no answers around how Epstein got his money, but there is speculation. We only know for sure, that all of it was ill gotten gains.

There’s an old concept called noblesse oblige. Fundamentally, it is about the conscience of the rich, who know that they are blessed and, therefore, must share their wealth on some level. Simply put: rich people take care of the less fortunate because they have the dough and it’s their moral duty to do something more with their money than sit on it or spend it. There’s also the ancient biblical mandate: to whom much is given, much is expected. It’s a beautiful idea that holds those fortunate enough to have been graced with privilege, a duty to use that wealth for good. In my lifetime, this has also been the aphorism touted by trust fund beneficiaries, the indolent children of the rich, overly educated and mildly ambitious, who want to leave their mark in the world. They are smart enough to know that to live a life of purpose has to have a point. They just don’t want to work hard the old fashioned way: diligently, over time, through the peaks of success and the valleys of failure. But we do know, when they don’t have to earn a living or pay the rent, they haven’t faced the problems you and I confront, learn from in order to recalibrate and do better. What’s left for them to covet but power? Political power over us. Wealthy people think there’s something wrong with you if you’re not rich like they are.

The idea on their end is that they know better because they have the key to happiness: cold hard cash and the lavish junk of the world at their fingertips. Make no mistake: Epstein held a grudge against the rich, educated, connected and powerful. He resented them- but he needed them. Epstein used philanthropy as a tool. He offered scholarships, but he didn’t care about the victims education. It was a lure to pull them into the scheme and use their bodies. He supported charities, but there was no place in his heart for true empathy. Charitable giving was just a grift to get at the bigger money. Maxwell was as diabolical as he was and now that she’s rotting in prison until she in her 80s, she’s suddenly seen the light. She abused those children as much as Epstein did. She’s a self-hating woman and folks, there is nothing worse than a woman who hates women except perhaps a man. I hope the First Lady will argue against any pardon for Ghislaine Maxwell. I hope Mrs. Trump’s voice is heard loud and clear when the time comes. I hope Thomas Massie will see his hard work on behalf of the victims see the healing light of day and keep Maxwell where she belongs: behind bars.

Epstein wanted to be important. He wanted what the wealthy had and to gain power over the meek. He would give these creeps anything to get it, including the souls of children. His child sex trafficking scheme wasn’t just about his personal sexual deviancy (and theirs), it was about his hatred of women. Whether the exploited children were from a poor neighborhood on the outskirts of his Florida mansion lured by Maxwell and her cash envelope, or flown in from places where people are so poor and desperate that they put their children in the hands of an ultra wealthy American scam artist in the hopes of better life for them, Epstein and Maxwell thrived on creating a business built upon the pain and suffering of children.

The release of the files in total is the gateway to the prosecution of the pervs who trucked with Epstein. The proof. On paper. In words. We still don’t have the files in total. Our determination to get them released is about our morality as a nation. To continue this botched dance of brutality against the victims where the names of the perps are redacted, and the victims’ personal information is exhibited for public consumption, is also about our distrust, disdain and hatred of women. This isn’t about sex; it’s about the sex trafficking of children. The goal is to ruin these children and their lives in the future. It’s about how we neglect our children. It’s also about the grip of poverty that leads to hunger and desperation so that our children become prey to those who make promises to take care of them. It’s about addiction that destroys our families and kills our souls. It’s about how poverty and wealth only intersect when some rich man has a sick proclivity for our children and is willing to pay someone like Epstein for the pleasure of exploiting them. It’s about how girls are expendable, criminally exploited, used and tossed away when they age out of the sexually perverted lives of old, rich, powerful men.

I’ll bet you had high hopes that the world has changed—evolved in modern times—when it comes to the treatment, nurturing and education of women. It hasn’t. Scions of great wealth—British royalty, European royalty, professors, tech giants, bankers, politicians, cabinet members, Hollywood fat cats—these are the men that use their wealth to exploit and debase our children. Those left standing in our culture with a voice should raise them on behalf and in defense of our children. I see that you do and that you are sick and heartbroken for the victims. But it might not be enough. We have to insist that law enforcement and the courts make sure that this never happens again.

Further Reading

• Adriana Trigiani Substack: The Epstein Files

  • Part One

  • Part Two

  • Part Three

  • Part Four

  • Part Five

• The White House: First Lady Melania Trump’s Statement

• New York Times: Melania Trump Says She Was Not Associated With Jeffrey Epstein

• BBC: ‘He liked the fear in our eyes,’ Epstein survivors tell BBC

• New York Times: Purported Epstein Suicide Note Is Released

• Katie Couric and Julie Brown Substack Live: Epstein Files Latest with Julie K. Brown

  • Julie Brown

• New York Times: See Who Has Faced Fallout From the Epstein Files

• New York Times: Scams, Schemes, Ruthless Cons: The Untold Story of How Jeffrey Epstein Got Rich

• Letters from an American by Heather Cox Richardson

• Nobody’s Girl: A Memoir of Surviving Abuse and Fighting for Justice by Virginia Roberts Giuffre

• Senator Kennedy on Jeffrey Epstein

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We are so grateful for the readers who read and enjoyed the hardcover and visited us on tour with Mike Trigiani and the Predictables. The View from Lake Como is a story about family, art, love, and, more than anything, building your own life—on your own terms—and the house that goes with it.

The paperback edition of The View from Lake Como features bonus material that you will love, including…

• Book club discussion questions

• An interview with Uncle Louie

• Recommendations for a day in Lake Como, Italy or Lake Como, New Jersey

• Photographs from my personal collection

• Recipes!

The map of Jess Capodimonte Baratta’s life takes her far from home, but she learns about who she is and what she needs when she’s no longer tethered to her hometown, Lake Como, New Jersey. A sense of wonder belongs to all of us. We’re all different in how we react and what we see when we travel. No matter where we go, we can find something that will clear the lens of how we see things and inspire our own sense of possibility.

I hope when you travel you create books of your experience with photos, drawings (although you don’t have to be Michelangelo!) and memories of conversations, meals and feelings you had on the road. I hope these locations will give you a little kickstart to mine your own creativity. One of my most precious possessions is a diary my mom kept on her first trip to Italy, and I know you have those treasures in your own homes: memories of folks who created your meals and memories of the table.

If you can’t make it to Italy but someday dream of going, here are some images and stories to stoke your dream. In the meantime, I hope you curl up with The View from Lake Como and share it with someone in your life who needs some laughs, a lot of connection, and a little escape.

1. The Mines of Carrara

Carrara, the “City of Marble”, is the ancestral home of Jess Capodimonte Baratta. Go up to the mountain where Michelangelo procured the marble to carve David. Sonia (pictured below) was our guide in the mines. Inside the mountain is just as you would imagine: cold and otherworldly. The mining went on all around us, but there were glorious grace notes on the tour. For example, the chandelier hanging in the alcove was delightful.

During Christmas 1995, the miners sheared a sheet of marble from the interior wall of the mine. When they stood back, there in the marble was the Blessed Mother holding her baby, Jesus. Now, it’s a shrine! As you travel through Italy, tucked in every corner, just as she was in my mom and grandmothers’ homes, you will find the Blessed Mother, whether she’s a statue, a painting, or a holy card propped near a mirror. It’s as if the Blessed Mother wants you to understand that she is always near, always there for you, to protect and guide.

2. Piazza Alberica in Carrara

Jess rents an apartment in the heart of the Piazza Alberica, not even knowing if she would like it. She had never lived alone but, somehow, found serenity living on the peaceful town square of Carrara. When I’m home in America writing a novel, I imagine the places in Italy where I spent my time and choose a house for my characters. I think of the place where they’d have coffee, the place where they’d buy their bread, the place where they’d work, all of it. I have to see a character living her life in a place—in detail. Jess “lived” right on the town square and drew inspiration from her perch on the terrace over the square.

It’s a surreal experience to return to Jess’ fictional home after you’ve read all about it in the novel, but there’s a sense of history and continuity in the real place. Yes, this is a fictional story, but I’m always reminded that the most engrossing novels are those rooted in truth. I hope these photographs give you some insight into how a writer absorbs the world around her and brings it to you in detail. In a small scene later in the novel, Bobby Bilancia visits Jess and tells her that he approached strangers in Carrara and asked them if they knew Jess. The people on the piazza thought that Jess was a great artist, which surprised and delighted her. She was just living her life and drawing what she saw, but it meant a great deal to her that the people had seen her—this ex-pat who came to live among them, as one of them—in the shadow of the marble quarries and mines.

3. Lake Como’s Villa D’Este

One of the world’s most luxurious destinations, the Villa D’Este on Lake Como, is a dream. You don’t have to stay in the hotel, but I recommend that you do, even for a night. You deserve to sit in the lap of luxury, though there are many glorious villas and hotels to choose from. The Villa D’Este has some of the best meals, views and ambience of any place I’ve ever stayed. Rich in history and lore, you will remember walking the shoreline and the narrow path that ribbons around the lake, and of course, like every town in Italy, the local church will be filled with art that will fill up your soul. Cernobbio is a little gem. Jess visits the lake in winter and since I’m a winter lover (when most folks don’t travel), I can see the world more clearly when the trees are bare and the streets aren’t crowded.

4. Chiesa di Santa Maria Assunta e San Pietro in Vilminore di Scalve

Angelo Strazza takes Jess to midnight mass at Santa Maria Assunta e San Pietro on Christmas Eve. The Church sits in the center of Viminore di Scalve (in the province of Bergamo) with views of the alps of the Lombardy region.

This church, in particular, is personal to my family and me. This is the church where my grandfather and his brother were baptized. His mother’s family, the Albriccis, built a side altar in the church alongside other families in the town. Any place, and I mean any place on earth, where the grandfather I never met walked is sacred ground. I was welcomed into the Bonicelli family home around the corner and visited my cousins in their home. I felt the presence of my grandfather but also had a sense of a family reunited. My mom, her siblings, and her parents are all on the other side of the veil now, and his church, with all its beauty and promise of eternal life, gives me strength to keep the faith.

5. Siena—for truffle hunting and more

Enjoy a centuries-old tradition when in Siena. Truffle hunting is unique to the Tuscany region with forests known for producing white truffle, which is often hunted by trained dogs. After the excursion, the city of Siena awaits you (pictured below). The Cattedrale di Santa Maria Assunta, or the Duomo di Siena, is the highest point of the city with artwork from Donatello, Michelangelo, and Bernini.

I include the piazza in Siena because this was the place where Jess and her friends met their guide to go truffle hunting. Jess had taken the train from Carrara north and hiked into the woods to hunt truffles. This scene was more than finding the priceless mushrooms to shear on to a delicious plate of pasta. The scene was about the unknown, the undiscovered, and how travel makes explorers out of all of us. It’s a small scene, but there is wisdom in the hunt that dramatizes Jess’ dilemma. She has to reconcile all that has been hidden, embrace the secrets kept from her, and define herself in the light of mystery. In Siena, in the light, in the mud, in the deep roots of the trees in the forests in the hills above the town, Jess discovers her ability to change—and therefore commits to a new life to become open to all that is revealed to her.

As summer nears, we will share more places, people and stories from our travels. To be an American is to hopefully be a citizen of the world, no matter your destination. Until then, we hope you enjoy traveling in The View from Lake Como.

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This was the 1940’s, and you know how this story goes from your own families. My uncle was playing basketball at Notre Dame and was drafted into the Navy during his sophomore year in college. He served honorably in the Pacific Theater while his sisters and mother worried and prayed for his safe return from the war. My grandfather Carlo had served during World War I in France for the United States and developed a cancer from being bombed with mustard gas as a young soldier. He was told when he was honorably discharged that he would not live to see his 40th birthday. He died when he was 39 years old. Orlando was 11 and the twins were 8 years old when their father passed on. My uncle Orlando could have avoided serving in World War II because he was the only male in the household and his own father had given his life for our country. But, my grandmother said, “My son will serve like everyone else.” Immigrants choose to be American, and they give all they’ve got to the country they love.

They were typical American immigrants just like your family- no matter your country of origin. Immigrants worked hard, stayed close, had deep faith and dealt with whatever came their way. They were good citizens—they participated in government and voted. They supported their neighbors and local businesses. They were proud to be American. Immigrant is a word of honor in our home today and always.

I can’t really tell the story of my mom without sharing all of this with you because, more than anything, my mom was shaped by her family. The ship’s manifest of my grandmother’s passage with her father in 1913 tells me that my grandmother and great grandfather could read and write when they came to America. Reading. Writing. Education. They were poor, but they knew what was priceless…an education. Books. Knowledge. Conversation. Ideas.

My mom and her siblings were born in Chisholm on the Iron Range of Minnesota. My grandfather owned and operated The Progressive Shoe Shop at 5 West Lake Street. The business of shoe repair was downstairs on the street level. In the back, my grandmother sewed all manner of clothing: coats, wedding gowns, suits. For extra income she took in alterations from the local department store. She became the sole breadwinner when her husband died—she was 35 years old. She lived to 92 and never remarried.

My grandmother Lucia was an avid reader. I recently returned to Chisholm with my Bonicelli cousins. We went to the public library, a place I loved as a child. Looking back, I realize that the public library was the first place we went, no matter where we were. Libraries were presented to me as a treasure, a wonderland of ideas- a place that was fun, but required a certain reverence. I don’t know if it was fate, but that particular day, the Chisholm librarians had big, doorstopper novels in Italian, and others translated to the English on display at the main desk. I imagined that my grandmother must have read them all. I remember my mom telling me that her mother always had a book to read nearby her sewing machine in the shop. I opened every book and imagined my grandmother turning the pages. She was also a bit of a medical person—she had a book where she looked up how to treat various ailments and diseases, and her friends called her Doctor Bonicelli. Lucia, look this up in your book! They’d joke.

When Ida and Irma graduated from college, Orlando, who was older than the girls, went to the priests at Notre Dame and explained that his sisters needed jobs. So, the twins wrote their letters, and soon they arrived in South Bend, Indiana, where they would share an apartment and work in the library system at the university. Father Ted Hesburgh, the president of the university called them “the heavenly twins”, but my mom would tell you that they were the only women on campus which made them heavenly by default. Make no mistake, my mom was beautiful, but she was one of those women who didn’t know it. She had sprezzatura, her beauty was effortless, lipstick and moisturizer. I wish I had inherited that regimen from her! It takes an act of Congress over here for me to prepare to leave the house.

Notre Dame. My mom, under her mentor, Frank Montana, the head of the Architecture Department, created the first Architecture Library at the university. She remembered her first day: a dusty closet stuffed with books that were in terrible shape. She transformed it into a magnificent library with new books, sculptures, paintings, work tables and displays. When Mom died in 2017, we received a letter from Notre Dame that said without our mom’s library, the Architecture Department would not have been accredited. This was a monumental contribution, but somehow, she hadn’t told us the scope of her accomplishments. Ida was creative, smart and a visionary in her own right, bringing the art of architecture to life. And then, my mom met my dad. They fell in love and got married at Notre Dame and proceeded to build a family of seven children. But I always knew that she was a librarian before she was a mother, and her work had a profound effect on me.

I knew to be a librarian was to be someone very special. It was to be an educator, a teacher, someone who inspires. Years later when I was blessed to go on my first book tour, my mom looked at the list and said, Where are the libraries? I went back to Random House and said, My mom says we need to go to libraries. Todd Doughty, my publicist at the time said, Great. He made it happen. My mom was pleased. Ever since, half of my tour stops are libraries, maybe more. To this day, whenever I visit a library, I think of my mother.

It was the mandate back then, for a woman to give up her career in order to raise a family. But Mom never gave up the library. Through her, I became obsessed with books and reading, and I refer to her, and quote her—almost daily. She said, “You are always better for having read a book.” She said, “For any problem you have in life, you can find the solution in the library.” She said, “Every mother should be educated, because the mother teaches her children.”

When I became enamored of Heidi by Johanna Spyri around my 8th birthday, my mom took the opportunity to tell me about her mother and father, from the Lombardy region in the Italian Alps. I read that book over and over again, searching for clues about who we were, thinking all the Alps were the same, wondering why my grandparents would leave a place so beautiful to come to America.

My mom told me a story later in life about Heidi. She and her sister attended a summer program every year at the Chisholm Library. The librarian there held a contest. The winner who read the most books that summer would receive a prize. In my mom’s 9th summer (a year after her father died), she read the most books. The prize? A copy of Heidi. Mom also told me why she and Irma became librarians. The librarian taught them how to bind books—how to repair them. My mom could’ve bound a book for you until the end of her life. She explained the process of “sewing” the pages together: the glue, the ink, the pages. She learned then that a book is a sacred object and must be cared for, repaired and put back in circulation. Someone will benefit from reading this book, she knew.

Ida and Irma were thrilled to go to Saint Catherine’s. Please know girls weren’t automatically sent to college back then (and if you want to get me started, there’s a common complaint out there by a few men that less boys than girls are going to college now—that the boys have been left behind. I want our boys and our girls to thrive- and one shouldn’t succeed at the expense of the other. It took generations of girls seeking higher education to get our girls where they are today- and it wasn’t easy or expected- ask your grandmother! Ida and Irma did work study, and like all young women of their time, they had big dreams. The war had created a kind of leadership runway for American girls. They had a role when the men went off to war. (My great Aunt Helen served in World War II- there were WACS and WAVES and nurses, but the men had us outnumbered in the service. Women served essential roles at home. They were keeping the country going, and that meant everything in the community, from the factories, to the restaurants, to the schools and the public library.

When I returned to the library in Chisholm last year, I felt my mom there. I went down to the children’s room, where I had spent time as a girl. Going to the library as a child was a treat. I couldn’t wait to get there and go through the stacks and choose books to read. I began my love of Nancy Drew there, but read Laura Ingalls Wilder and Cherry Ames, Student Nurse (it was already an old chestnut in the 1970’s, but I didn’t care!). Cherry turned me off to a life in the medical profession, but Nancy Drew made me want to solve crimes and ride around in a roadster with a cute guy named Ned.

I found it hard to leave the library in Chisholm on my last visit. I realized that the only place in the world that hadn’t changed since I was 10 was the Chisholm Public Library. That also holds true for the C Bascom Slemp Memorial Library in Big Stone Gap. For the Wise County Book Mobile. For the Powell Valley High School Library (now renamed Union High). For the Big Stone Gap Elementary School Library. Libraries are classics, and the stacks, it seems, are eternal.

I remember my librarians as clearly as the books I read. Mrs. Ernestine Roller was so kind, she was adorable and wore bright red lipstick. I remember Miss Billie Jean Scott who was slim with jet black hair. She wore a lightweight sweater clipped around her neck with a gold chain and two small jeweled birds as clasps. She was so hip. She allowed me to spend time in the magazine room where she had methodically kept every Time, Newsweek and Look magazine since the 1940’s. This served my passion for historical research ever since. Our county bookmobile librarian, Mr. James Varner, was hilarious. He had a thermos of coffee in the window. The bookmobile had the scent of hot coffee, tobacco and books. Sometimes it had the scent of Emeraude or whatever perfume the last lady who checked out a book was wearing. My mom taught us to respect these folks and hold them in the highest esteem. I did and do.

Last weekend, I was at BookCon on a panel with Jodi Picoult, Isabel Ibañez and Rebecca Lehmann, with Jason Blitman as the moderator. Jodi Picoult, a warrior against book banning and a beloved and brilliant author, spoke on the panel. Jodi’s war against book banning made me think of my mom, and a time when I was a girl and got into trouble for reading a book.

I was a world class babysitter in Big Stone Gap. You could also say that I was a bit of a pimp. I would farm my sisters out on gigs I couldn’t do, keeping the business (in my mind I was a mogul) afloat. My sisters would tell you that it wasn’t true—I took the best paying gigs and left the scraps for them. Let’s just agree to disagree on that. Anyhow, there was a book at the library on the main table, it had a cover that intrigued me, so I checked it out of the Slemp Library. I was so engrossed in this book, that I began to read it aloud in 8th grade Study Hall. It was called Sybil by Flora Rheta Schreiber. It’s the story of a woman with multiple personalities. There had been a TV movie made about it starring Sally Field.

I came home from school, and my mom asked me what I was reading. My heart sank. I knew what was coming, or thought I did. “Someone called and said you were reading an inappropriate book,” she said. I was immediately defensive. My mom was cool as a cucumber. “Let me look at it.” she said. All I wanted to do was keep reading the book.

The next day, my mom handed the book back to me. Please know my mom was elegant, kind and artistic. She had a deep faith and played by the rules. I thought she was so beautiful that I didn’t deserve to be her daughter. She was not like me, but I so wanted to be like her. I could make her laugh, and that was my best and only skill. But I had nothing funny to say that morning. I felt betrayed—whoever this mystery rat was who outed my library check-outs really annoyed me. I didn’t even want to know who it was, I just wanted to finish the book and continue forth with my dramatic readings in Study Hall.

“Can I read it?” I asked her. My mom handed the book back to me and said, “Don’t ever let anyone tell you what you should read or shouldn’t read. Read everything.” Later my mom looked back on that moment and told me that the development of a keen intellect came from reading a variety of books and asking questions.

I’ve had some wonderful moments in my life, but nothing brought me the validation, reinforcement and strength of purpose more than my mother had that day. Every time some idiot carps about banning books, I think of her. My mom believed in the sacred trust that is formed between a reader and a book. As readers, we enter a world, made possible by a writer who was desperate to share that world with us. Their ideas can inspire us, steer our thinking, or challenge our beliefs. My mother understood this, and she wanted me to understand that I was free. Free to read. Free to learn. Free to explore ideas. Free to share those ideas with those around me. Free to check out books at the free Public Library! Free to think my own thoughts and form my own opinions. Free to become whatever it was I would become. There’s a direct line from my mother’s wisdom to this moment. She believed the written word was sacred—that a book can change a life. Somehow, she knew books would change mine. And yours.