At 6’ 5”, Jackson Eaton was a commanding presence whenever he entered the room. His straw colored hair had persisted beyond childhood, adding a boyish charm when combined with his neatly trimmed beard. In contrast with his penchant for drawing attention, he preferred to express himself by written word, and this he had always done.

Family members found hand-copied issues of a household newsletter slipped under their doors, special agent penguins ran secret missions in his sister’s spiral notebook, school mates were entertained by his sketches for morning announcements. Friends received birthday cards of the most personalized nature, and his sweetheart was never lacking for love songs and sonnets.

As the years waxed long, so did Jackson’s word count. The works you see published now are just one more way for the world to enjoy the gifts of this man who was born to write.