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MILITARY MAN Atlanta Author Robert Coram Chronicles the True-Life Storiesof American Soldiers CORAM Photo courtesy of lou arcangeli Like the real-life hero he writes so eloquently about in his new book “American Patriot, The Life and Wars of Colonel Bud Day,” author Robert Coram is small of stature but tough of spirit. Both are men of principle who see the world in black and white. It’s either wrong or right. There is very little gray. Sometimes their derring-do nature leads them astray. Day volunteered for three wars, received the Medal of Honor, this country’s highest award, and became the most decorated man since General Douglas MacArthur. He also survived the horrors of the infamous Hanoi Hilton prison for more than five years. Coram, on the other hand, has had an inspiring writing career and fought his wars on paper.
Man on a Mission As a brash, young investigative reporter for The Atlanta Journal and magazine freelancer, Coram covered the Civil Rights era and drug trafficking in Colombia, Jamaica, Turks & Caicos, the Bahamas and Florida. His article on the flow of drugs into the United States, which appeared in Esquire magazine, was the first ever on the topic in a major magazine. Coram first learned about drug smugglers defying the Air Defense Fly Zone from his brother, a Marine reservist. “He saw it as a military problem,” he said. “I saw it as a story. I befriended customs officials who let me fly on interdiction trips in the Bahamas and drug busts with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation.” But once the Colombians entered the picture, things turned violent quickly. In the Bahamas, Coram was shot at. His wife of 25 years, Jeannine Addams, president of J. Addams & Partners, Inc., a public relations firm, read his articles on drug trafficking long before the two met. “I expected a burly man about 6-feet tall,” she said. “Robert is 5-foot-6 and has a slight build, but the man is fearless about confronting ‘bad stuff’ head on. When the U.S. consul in Antigua was told that traffickers had threatened to kill him, he knew Robert wouldn’t leave voluntarily and not only escorted him to the airport but waited for his plane to take off.” Despite his groundbreaking reporting, Coram says his attempt to unionize the reporting staff resulted in his firing. The official reason was that he had allegedly tricked a politician into telling the truth about a controversial news issue. “It was devastating,” he said. “I considered being a reporter the best job a young person could have.” Following his firing, Coram ventured into politics, working as press secretary to Georgia Gov. Carl Sanders. “I couldn’t have worked for a more principled, honest, bright man,” Coram said. “But the other guy [Jimmy Carter] won the election.” For the next four years, Coram was a staff writer at Atlanta Magazine, and then moved to Cumberland Island where he later took a job at a national park. He also wrote for numerous regional magazines. Following his stint on Cumberland, The Atlanta Constitution gave him a blank check as a freelancer to continue his drug smuggling investigations, even approving the expenditure for a permanent wave so he could go undercover. “The Drug Enforcement Administration told me I needed to change my appearance so I grew long hair, got a perm and wore sunglasses.” For his powerful articles written at great peril to his own safety, Coram was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, journalism’s highest honor. “I have the unique distinction of having been fired from both The Atlanta Journal and The Atlanta Constitution. Nobody ever went downhill after being fired from the Atlanta newspapers.” During his second year, Coram wrote a series of impassioned articles from an insider’s point of view opposing the National Park Service’s intention to allow developers on Cumberland Island. The paper received 3,000 letters and Coram received a second Pulitzer Prize nomination. But once again, he was fired from an Atlanta newspaper. This time, a new assistant managing editor claimed Coram’s interviewing techniques were too aggressive. “I have the unique distinction of having been fired from both The Atlanta Journal and The Atlanta Constitution,” he joked. “Nobody ever went downhill after being fired from the Atlanta newspapers. Since the papers have merged, the feat will never be repeated.” A Writer’s Life Coram’s father was a tough Army top sergeant for 33 years who wanted his son to follow suit as a straight-arrow military man. Coram was a renegade, always at war with the establishment. But, following his father’s untimely death, he inexplicably enlisted in the Air Force. His military career was short-lived. “I was a misfit and court-martialed three times,” he confessed with a chuckle. “The first time was for driving a military vehicle without permission. The second two were for bringing women into my quarters.” As a result, he received an Undesirable Discharge “and spent my life as far away from the military as possible.” The spit and fire in Coram has subsided but has clearly not faded. One of his close friends, Royce Hayes, superintendent of St. Catherine’s Island, says Coram is very exacting, particularly about time. “You never want to be even one minute late when you’re meeting Robert,” he said. “On his first date with his future wife, Jeannine, she was 15 minutes late and Robert left. It’s a wonder she ever went out with him again.” Once, following a tropical storm that hit Coram’s cabin near Darien, Ga., Jeannine called Royce to describe a large tree limb that fell onto the roof about 7 a.m. “I could hear Robert correcting her in the background,” Hayes laughed. “‘It was 7:12, not 7 a.m.,’” he said. On the flip side, Hayes describes Coram as being softhearted; the kind of man that feels things deeply. He channels those feelings into the larger-than-life heroes he writes about. Hayes and Coram, along with WSB-TV’s investigative reporter, Richard Belcher, have dubbed themselves the “Three Amigos.” Belcher and Coram met through a mutual friend. Later, Coram wrote an article about Belcher for The Quill, the journalism society’s magazine. Then Coram and Jeannine began socializing with Belcher and his wife, former WSB-TV news anchor Sally Sears. “We both married up,” Belcher said. The trio escapes civilization once a year for a man’s weekend at Moon Pie, Coram’s retreat in Harris Neck, Ga. near Darien. “We drink a little scotch, smoke some cigars and try to impress one another with our culinary skills,” Hayes said. Each man tries to bring home dinner every night, whether it’s fresh mussels, crabs or red fish. “There’s something primal about pulling a 17-inch red fish from the water and eating it that night,” Belcher said. They also hike knee-deep through marsh mud and tidal creeks and have what he calls, “filthy fabulous fun. In the evenings, we kick back and wonder what the rest of the world is doing tonight.” Moon Pie Studios, Coram’s idyllic retreat, was designed by his longtime friend, Richard Taylor, president of Taylor Architecture. “After the success of [one of his books], Robert called and asked me to design a garage with a little writer’s studio upstairs on 10 acres of marsh land he owned near Darien,” Taylor said. “It became a piece of unique and personal art.” The two-story house with a garage below is tucked away on the edge of a tree line but it doesn’t impact the apron of the marsh. Built on cylindrical columns to withstand hurricanes, it has a widow’s walk accessed by a ladder. “Robert’s writing corner is all glass so he can see the serenity of the marsh or the violence of an approaching storm,” Taylor said. Military Might With 45 years of writing under his belt, including countless newspaper and magazine articles, seven novels and three non-fiction books, including co-writing an unforgettable memoir of an abuse-survivor and child activist Christina Noble titled “Nobody’s Child,” Coram has returned to his non-fiction roots. Many writers his age are savoring the successes of the past. Instead, Coram is gearing up, already at work on his next book about Lt. Gen. Victor “Brute” Krulak, a Marine, who fought in World War II and Korea. During the Vietnam War, he was commander of Fleet Marines. “He is another example of the mythic men in uniform about whom the public knows nothing,” Coram said. “Robert’s writing corner is all glass so he can see the serenity of the marsh or the violence of an approaching storm.” The man who abhorred the military in his youth has come full circle, writing about unsung military heroes like “Boyd: The Fighter Pilot Who Changed the Art of War.” He’s found a thirsty audience in all branches of the military and civilians eager for more. “American Patriot” won’t disappoint. “Robert’s strength is writing non-fiction,” Jeannine said. “Once he subdivided into military heroes, he reached his zenith. He finally got what his dad was trying to teach him.” Coram selects his subjects carefully. “[Military] biographies have to be more than a list of accomplishments,” he said. “They must be men of high principal and integrity who suffer the stings and arrows of the enemy and triumph. They also have to be meticulously researched and read more like a novel than a recitation of fact.” Meet the “American Patriot” To those who served with him or heard about his valor, Bud Day became the face and the force behind the Vietnam POWs at the infamous “Hanoi Hilton” prison camp. His determination to survive while upholding the Code of Honor inspired others to stand strong against unfathomable torture. Whether it was his upbringing or something inside himself, Day always knew he had a mission in life. He just didn’t know how to define it. He narrowly escaped death many times. Once, he survived a fire on take-off in a T-33 trainer, something no pilot had ever done. He also survived a no-chute bail-out (his parachute failed to deploy) when his aircraft went down. On a third occasion, he landed his plane safely in an English fog so thick he couldn’t see the runway, even after his wheels touched down. His most daring exploit was escaping from a North Vietnamese prison camp while seriously injured and remaining free for longer than any other graduate of the Air Force Survival School. Each time, he felt he had been spared because his mission on earth was not yet complete.
The answer came when he was 70 and summarily denied prescription medication by the military. The reason was an order from President Bill Clinton that cancelled benefits to retirees who became eligible for Medicare at age 65. Instead of “free for life,” retirees had to contribute heavily. Day was incensed. Recruiters in every branch of service promise prospects, “You give us 20 years, we’ll give you medical benefits for life.” The government had reneged on their word to members of the Greatest Generation who had stormed the beaches of Normandy, planted the flag on Iwo Jima and froze in the treacherous mountains of Korea. As a lawyer and a warrior who had served in the Marines, Army and Air Force, he wasn’t about to tolerate the injustice. “A promise is a promise,” Day said. With an army of volunteers from all across the country, Day sued the U.S. Government. The case lurched through the legal system to the U.S. Court of Appeals. Simultaneously, the “Keep the Promise” bill was winding its way through Congress. Thanks to dogged lobbying of legislators and the spotlight Day and his volunteers cast on the issue, it finally passed, restoring 95 percent of the stolen medical benefits. Day kept up the pressure to restore the remaining five percent all the way to the Supreme Court — which refused to hear the case. But in the minds of the two million men and women whose benefits he helped restore, his mission was accomplished. Robert Coram also has a mission — to honestly portray the stories of those forgotten or overlooked American heroes who did so much to make America a safer place. “I probably have three books left in me,” Coram said. “I want them to count for something.” If the past is a predictor of the future, the next three will leave equally lasting legacies for the military men he writes about and for the author and journalist who chronicles their heroism. PN Books by Robert Coram
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