The name is Addolgar Reec. It’s Welsh. It’s pronounced “Atholgar Rees”. The name was nothing unusual back in the little Welsh Village of Treorchi, in the midst of the coalmines above the Rhonda Valley in south Wales. Even so, as soon as I started attending classes, my teachers wanted to use something “a little more English.” These teachers were either English-or Welsh anglophiles-and those were the days when being politically correct meant being as English as possible. The Welsh have many faults. A long memory is one of them. We still harbor ancestral ill feelings for the Romans and the unkempt rag-tag raiders that followed them-the Angles, Jutes, Danes, Norsemen etc. So it was with more than a little satisfaction that my generation began to discard all things English as I reached my maturity. We took back our language, our names our ancient religion and so much more. Nevertheless, I have never been able to shake “Jack Rees”. So, if you see Jack Reec at the masthead of my page, it’s a nod to the past. If you see “Jack Rees” on my book covers, it’s a nod to the marketing department. No wonder I look frustrated.