I spent a rather long exasperating day dealing with two separate family issues from two different sides of my family. One long running disagreement with a relative on my mother's side has revealed itself to be more about misunderstanding actions on both sides, than any original argument. And a sudden disagreement on my father's side is more about carrying a lot of baggage to the table on one side and facing a person who has no clue about any of this old business on the other. In both cases there is a certain truth on each side - a personal truth - that does not agree with the truth on the other side. Also, in one case, one person says something and means another (leaving the person he spoke to oblivious to his real thoughts) and in the other case, one person says little and then misinterprets the response he received.

In both of these bizarre little fights, no one (and I'm one of this group) talked directly to the other people after the initial problem. There has been discussion with other family members, but not getting back to the source, (so to speak). Last night we went back finally to the source and got a most unexpected reply. I don't know that this is a salvageable relationship (and the other situation would seem not to be) but I realized that a whole truth - a universally accepted truth - is missing in both of these disagreements.

In fact, I don't even know that the truth matters anymore.

I just finished reading Susan Sontag's Regarding the Pain of Others the other night, which is all about photography and truth. One of the pictures she discusses is the flag raising on Iwo Jima. Everyone knows that photo was staged. But was it a lie? Those men did raise a flag on that island after a horrifying battle. They did struggle to raise that flag. Is it less honest that they were asked to do it again for a photo? It still happened - just as MacArthur still landed in the Philippines with or without the photographer to record the exact moment. Did MacArthur making it more dramatic by walking in through the water make his return any less honest?

What does it take to make something true?

At the Company one of my jobs was to lie. I lied to the Post Office and told them all the mail had gone even when some of it was sitting on the hangar floor. I lied to the FAA and told them I didn't know anything about a flight record when really I knew everything about it. I lied to the pilots (in the beginning) and told them an aircraft was 100 pounds overweight when really it was 200 (or more). I lied and everyone knew that I was probably lying which I guess makes it more honest. But the FAA lied also by saying they cared about making aviation safe and legal in AK (don't even get me started on this). And the pilots lied by saying they tried their hardest to get to a destination (sometimes they would just go fly around in circles and then come back). And the village agents lied when they said the weather was good and really it sucked (but they wanted us to come in and deliver their freight so they said what we wanted to hear). In this culture of lies and lying there were some basic truths however. The job was hard. The weather was bad. The planes were pieces of shit. The mail had to move. We were all replaceable. No one would miss us when we were gone.

We all knew the truth and we all knew the lies and that was how we worked everyday.

Everything I write about the Company is the truth, even the lies. How this happened - and how it came to be such a big part of my life - never ceases to amaze me. But it's true, all the flying, all the dying, all the lies, are true. But see I know that and I'm okay with it. I accept that the Iwo Jima photo was staged and it doesn't bother me. It is still a strong statement about that battle and those men. In the most fundamental way, it is powerfully true. How I explain all this to readers is not so easy, especially when I see that in my own family it is largely impossible. But then again, readers will not be carrying all that family bullshit along with them either. They won't have any reason not to believe which might be the biggest part of telling the truth.

You have to want to believe, or none of it works, and it never will.

[The title for the memoir has changed yet again, now "A Map of My Dead Pilots".]