Florence Adler Swims Forever(106)

To the staff and board of the Visual Arts Center of Richmond, but especially to Stefanie Fedor. While I was writing this book, I was lucky enough to work for a fabulous community arts center with an inspiring vision: Art for everyone. Creativity for life. I worked alongside potters, painters, printmakers, and photographers (not to mention writers), and the creative energy I felt in that space and among those people kept me going.

Thanks to the staff and volunteers at the Atlantic County Historical Society and the Atlantic City Free Public Library. My hearty thanks go out to the staff of the Knife and Fork Inn, who gave me a complete tour of the historic restaurant.

Growing up, I had several English teachers whose lessons and encouragement stayed with me long after the school year ended. Judy Bandy, Deborah Conrad, Elizabeth Mace, and LuAnn Smouse—thank you.

My grandparents, Frances and Walter Hanstein, did not live to see this book’s publication. Before my grandmother died, at the age of ninety-four, I told her I was writing a “family drama” set in Atlantic City but I hadn’t grown so bold as to tell her that the drama was inspired by her family. I owe her my deepest gratitude for sharing Florence with me.

I lost my father, Sam Moyle, to pancreatic cancer almost a decade ago. His absence in my life has been my greatest heartbreak. When he died, I was in my twenties, a young mother still trying to figure myself out, and I wrote my way through those early stages of grief. Even when the fog began to lift, the writing never stopped. In a very real way, this book exists because of him.

To my mother, Sara Moyle, who has always been my best editor and biggest supporter. She couldn’t have known, as a navy wife raising four young children, that she was turning me into a writer. But, looking back, it’s as if someone had handed her an instruction manual. Read to your kids constantly, take them to libraries and museums and theater, buy them plenty of blank journals, and traipse them through worlds that are not their own. Mom, without you I wouldn’t be here. In more ways than one. For telling me Florence’s story but also for raising little more than an eyebrow when I wanted to write it down, thank you.

To my siblings—Danny Moyle, Ruthie Peevey, and Eve Shade. It was a privilege growing up with you.

To my husband, Kevin Beanland, whose support and love has allowed me to pursue this dream. Thank you.

And lastly, to my children—Gabriel, Clementine, and Florence. You are my joy, my life. Without you, my world wouldn’t be worth writing about.