The British MP John McDonnell might think Churchill a villain, but he's beloved in America. I've just returned from a 10-week, 18-state, 27-city, 87-speech book tour there, and can report that the enthusiasm for all things Churchillian in the USA is stronger now than at any time since his death. Merely bringing out a new biography of him secured me interviews on all the major TV morning news shows, invitations to speak at three presidential libraries, and a place on the New York Times bestseller list for nine weeks. There are active Churchill appreciation societies in 14 states and more being set up.
Of course it can go too far: in Coral Gables, Fla., a lady came up to me at a book-signing and calmly informed me that ‘Sir Winston' came to her in her dreams to tell her certain things about himself that he wanted the world to know. After double-checking that she wasn't armed, I did what any biographer would do, and asked her the hitherto unknown secrets that Churchill needed to impart from beyond the grave. Sadly they were all already in my book, as I had to point out to the crestfallen lady, who nonetheless insisted that I sign the book to her as the reincarnation of Winston Churchill. Never wishing to disappoint a customer, I did so — albeit within quotation marks.
Being driven to a party that Churchill's granddaughter, Edwina Sandys, kindly gave in honor of my book at her Manhattan apartment — also courtesy of Pol Roger — I fell to musing about what the world would have been like had Churchill been killed when a car ran him over on Fifth Avenue between 76th and 77th Streets in December 1931. As I looked up out of my taxi window, completely coincidentally, I found that I was right there. If ever memorials were raised for things that did not happen, that would be an excellent spot to have one.
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