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I love this memoir, a tough family tale of love and loyalty, abuse and fear, rage and ingenuity, chaos and independence — told by the eldest of nine children growing up in the 1950s and 1960s. Ms. Etheridge’s narrative is honest and courageous, compassionate and free of self-pity. She somehow manages to communicate the limited horizons of a teenager’s worldview, tempered by mature understanding, in a way I found irresistible. For several savory days, I literally did not put down her book, but carried it with me everywhere — bed, bathtub, my chiropractor’s waiting room, even sitting in my car in the carwash. Full disclosure: I actually knew the author slightly during at least one of the years she recalls in LONG WAY HOME — her junior (my senior) year at Mt. Eden High School, Hayward, California. I remember Ms. Etheridge (neé McCusker) from back then as being “cute” (this was 1968, after all) and likable, with a simply terrific singing voice perfect for her role as the idealistic and straight-laced missionary Sarah Brown in our spring production of “Guys and Dolls” (where I played clarinet in the school’s orchestra). But, at that age, I could not possibly have guessed at the ongoing crisis that was her family life 50 years ago. The intervening half-century has taken both Ms. Etheridge and me from being high school seniors to being senior citizens. And during that time, I have listened to many adults continue to blame the unfortunate circumstances of their upbringing for an inability, decades later, to succeed in life. By contrast, Ms. Etheridge’s “tale of growth, perseverance, and triumph over adversity” is every bit as inspiring as she ever could have hoped it would be. Thank you, Ann, for a wonderful read!