Crisis Pursued by Disaster, Followed Closely by Catastrophe: A Memoir of Life on the Run

In this deeply personal account, veteran journalist O’Connor’s decides to explore the mysteries of his childhood: “In September 1998, a year after our mother died, I finally found the courage to look inside my father’s battered, taped-together cigar box, with the brand Tampa Nugget in embossed gold lettering on a red border.” Over the course of more than 300 pages, O’Connor hints at some dark secret that drove his father to suddenly move the family from Texas to Mexico and back in the 1950s. “Rushing, almost running at the end because we could feel the breath of whatever was chasing us, Dad and I jammed our things into the back of the black-and-white station wagon.” he writes. But for all of O’Connor’s journalistic credentials—CBS News, the New York Times and NPR—the pace is sluggish as he uncoils his tales of late-night border crossings, parental double-speak and ongoing misdirection. In the end, O’Connor finds his father was a petty criminal, on the run from his own scams, and his mother was caught up in the McCarthy-era red scare. Not that every memoir must have some nearly unspeakable grotesquerie at its core, but O’Connor’s story lacks the emotional wallop to justify wading through it. (Aug.)