Autobiography

Come to the Edge: A Memoir

By Christina Haag

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
The Love tale of JFK Jr. and Christina Haag

"Lyrically and accurately recaptures the frenetic ecstasy of early love."--Washington Post

An elegy to old flame, a misplaced long island, and a tender guy who led his lifestyles with marvelous and plentiful grace
. whilst Christina Haag used to be transforming into up at the top East part of long island, John F. Kennedy, Jr., was once only one of the lads in her circle of prep tuition acquaintances, a thin child who lived together with his mom and sister on 5th street and who occurred to have a mystery carrier element following him at a discreet distance always. A decade later, when they had either graduated from Brown college and have been dwelling in big apple urban, Christina and John have been solid in an off-Broadway play jointly. It used to be then that John confessed his long-standing weigh down on her, they usually launched into a five-year love affair. Glamorous and infrequently within the public eye, but additionally passionate and deeply intimate, their courting was once transformative for either one of them. With beautiful prose, Haag paints a portrait of a tender guy with a big ability for romance, and an adventurous spirit that drove him to dwell lifestyles to its fullest.

A haunting booklet, Come to the Edge is a long-lasting evocation of a time and a place--of the indelible sting of the lack of younger love, and of the folk who form you and stay with you, no matter if in individual or in spirit. it really is approximately being younger and whole of desire, with all of the power of your lifestyles as but unfulfilled, and of coming of age at a second in New York's background while the town straight away held probability, magic, and unending probabilities for self-discovery. 

Rarely has a love tale been instructed so fantastically.

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The naturalist used to be on holiday, and Andy Ferguson, a great-great-grandson of Thomas Carnegie, will be our advisor for the day. many years older than us, he had a sly smile and a surprise of white-blond hair that fell in his face. He didn’t glance without delay at you; he saw, as though there have been a narrative he may or will possibly not inform counting on his temper, as though there have been a mystery that held on his lips. I cherished him. He additionally had a very good love and information of the island, and he shared it with us that day. the subsequent 12 months, within the bloom of his early life, Andy could shoot himself with a rifle and be buried within the Carnegie plot close to Dungeness. We climbed into the open jeep and took off down the most highway. I sat subsequent to Andy, and John rode in again. We have been happening a picnic, and I’d worn my picnic costume, or at the least my suggestion of what that may be within the wilds of southern Georgia while you’re in love. The fiercer the solar obtained and the farther we went, the extra i wanted I’d worn lengthy pants and a long-sleeved blouse, like Andy, and a wide-billed cap rather than the braided straw hat that rested on my knees. We have been quiet for a stretch because the jeep lumbered alongside the rutted highway. On each side used to be a wooded area of loblolly pine, wax myrtle, pink bay, and oak bushes draped within the trailing vines of muscadine. under the timber, thickets of skunk cabbage and fan palmetto grew low and durable. “You convinced picked the most popular time of the 12 months to come,” Andy introduced. “Well, one in all us desired to visit Taos, however the different somebody inspiration it wouldn’t be as scorching right here, and that someone received out, didn’t they? ” John reached round the seat and gave me a pointy pinch. “Oh yeah? ” Andy regarded over to me, then again to the sandy highway, slowing for a fawn that occurred to move in entrance of the jeep. “Next time, you need to pass August. ” “Can we see an alligator? ” John desired to understand. He’d been speaking approximately all of it morning. “We’ll attempt. it can also be too sizzling for them. ” He pointed to a few frizzled brown development within the crevice of an oak. “That’s resurrection fern. It’s an epiphyte. It seems lifeless now, but if it rains—and it will—that fern will burst into eco-friendly. ” “What’s an epiphyte? ” I requested. “It lives off the air. ” At Stafford, after the line cut up after which joined back, the woodland cleared and there has been sky. at the correct, throughout from the place the plantation apartment as soon as stood, was once a box that served as an airstrip. “You need to buzz the horses a few times prior to you land,” Andy confided. “Even then they’re obdurate. they believe it’s theirs. ” The woodland grew denser the farther north we went. Andy took us to the Chimneys, the charred ruins of the slave quarters at Stafford; to Plum Orchard, a Georgian revival mansion, the place we peered into large home windows on the large, vacant rooms; and to an previous looking inn, the wooden grayed and conquer via monstrous sand dunes. We waited with no success via a marshy creek for alligators, yet noticed ospreys and ibises close to Lake Whitney. We rambled over trails with names like curler Coaster, Duck condo, and North minimize.

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