A few more prints

I haven't finished blogging about the prints and posters I took to Experienced Goods a couple of weeks ago. I think there are eight more after these three today, which are from Brown University. Brown would send out prints of campus scenes suitable for framing as a "Thank You" gift to donors, and I had collected three of them.

(1)The Carrie Tower and John Hay Library. This shot is taken at the corner of the campus. The John Hay Library was the library when I entered Brown in 1960, but in 1964-65, a new library, the Rockefeller Library, was built, and the John Hay was emptied out into the Rockefeller - which was right across the street. I was still working on my dissertation at that time and was a major library patron, and I had to deal with the dislocation and delay that that move entailed. I will have to say, though, that the library staff handled that move amazingly well. The John Hay building was not torn down - it became a more specialized library for archives and rare books.

(2) Pembroke in Snow. Pembroke College was a women's college in the first part of the 20th century, and it was a sister college to Brown, which was all men. Their campuses were adjoining but distinct. It had its own President and Board of Trustees, its own traditions and commencement, etc. In 1971, Brown became coed and Pembroke was dissolved as a college and subsumed into Brown. This was probably a blow to its alumnae, but I think the administration made every effort to maintain some distinctiveness. The campus was kept, but was used by both men and women, as was the Brown campus. I don't know when this photo was taken, but it shows the Pembroke campus in the winter-time. I like the dark figure crossing over the path - it adds a nice touch. Marilynne Robinson, Janet Yellen and Susan Bennett (the voice of "Siri" on Apple iPhones) are among the graduates of Pembroke College.

(3) The Cupola of Wayland House. This is my least favorite of the three prints - it seems a bit garish to me. Wayland House is a dormitory on the Brown campus. It is part of the Wriston Quadrangle, which was built in 1950-1952. It was named for Francis Wayland, President of Brown from 1827-1855. I don't know why it rated a cupola.

Po' Sandy

The fourth story we studied last Thursday was Po' Sandy by Charles Chesnutt. Once again, both the story and the author were new to Ellen and myself, though I understand that Charles Chesnutt has become very well-known in academic circles in recent years. The story is told by a man, John, who is living with his wife, Annie, on land they bought in North Carolina, but they are both originally northerners. Annie wants John to build her a kitchen addition - but she wants it to be an external kitchen - a separate building, as it was in the old South, mainly as a way of reducing the likelihood of fire spreading from the kitchen to the rest of the house, and maybe also to keep the extreme heat of the kitchen confined to that area. There was some discussion of whether this piece of information revealed that this couple had sort of a romantic image of the old South and were more or less oblivious to the dark side of the slave system. It was, after all, slaves who were toiling in that hot kitchen. In the story, John decides to use some lumber from an old abandoned school-house on his property, but when he does some measurements, he finds he'll need some additional new lumber. So he goes off to the sawmill with an old man, Julius MacAdoo, who is a "colored coachman" to the couple. When they get to the sawmill and Julius hears the saw ripping out a log, he shudders and says, "Ugh! but dat des do cuddle my blood!" When John asks why, Julius tells a bizarre story - but what a story! It is told in the dialect of his people at that time. It is about a slave who belonged to a slave-owner, "Master Marrabo McSwayne," whose plantation bordered on John and Annie's property. - a slave named "Sandy." Sandy had been a gift to a family of siblings, and though he was based at the home plantation, he was passed back and forth among the siblings as the need arose. Consequently, he had no life of his own, and during one absence from the home plantation, his wife was sold away, and he came home to find he no longer had a wife. He eventually took up with another woman, Tenie, and came to love her very much. One day, Sandy says to Tenie (and here I'll quote directly from the story): "'I'm gittin monstus ti'ed er dish yer gwine roun' so much. Here I is lent ter Mars Jeems dis mont', en I got ter do so-en-so; en ter Mars Archie de nex' mont', en I got ter do so-en-so; den I got ter go ter Miss Jinnie's: en hit's Sandy dis en Sandy dat, en Sandy yer en Sandy dere, tel it 'pears ter me I ain' got no home, ner no marster, ner no mistiss, ner no nufTn'. I can't eben keep a wife: my yuther ole 'oman wuz sole away widout my gittin' a chance fer ter tell her good-by; en now I got ter go off en leab you, Tenie, en I dunno whe'r I'm eber gwine ter see yer ag'in er no. I wisht I wuz a tree, er a stump, er a rock, er sump'n w'at could stay on de plantation fer a w'ile.' "Atter Sandy got thoo talkin', Tenie did n' say naer word, but des sot dere by de Ter, studyin' en studyin'. Bimeby she up'n says: — "'Sandy, is I eber tole you I wuz a cunjuh-'ooman?' "Co'se Sandy had n' nebber dremp' er nufTn lack dat, en he made a great miration w'en he hear w'at Tenie say. Bimeby Tenie went on: — "'I ain' goophered nobody, ner done no cunjuh-wuk fer Tfteen year er mo; en w'en I got religion I made up my mine I would n' wuk no mo' goopher. But dey is some things I doan b'lieve it 's no sin fer ter do; en ef you doan wanter be sent roun' fum pillar ter pos', en ef you doan wanter go down ter Robeson, I kin Tx things so yer won't haf ter. Ef you'll des say de word, I kin turn yer ter w'ateber yer wanter be, en yer kin stay right whar yer wanter, ez long ez yer mineter.' (My translation of the above: I'm getting monstrous tired of this here going round so much. Here I am lent to Master Jeems this month, and I got to do so-an-so, and to Master Archie next month, and I got to do so-an-so, then I got to go to Miss Jinnie's, and it's Sandy this and Sandy that, and Sandy here and Sandy there. It appears to me that I haven't got a home, no master, no mistress, no nothing. I can't even keep a wife. My other old woman was stolen away without my even getting a chance to tell her goodbye, and now I've got to go off and leave you, Tenie, and I don't know whether I'm going to see you again or not. I wish I was a tree, or a stump, or a rock, or something that could stay on the plantation for a while." After Sandy got through talking, Tenie didn't say a word, but just sat there, studying and studying. Bye and bye, she up and said, "Sandy, have I ever told you I am a conjure woman?" Because Sandy had never dreamed of nothing like that, and he made a great ?? when he heard what Tenie said, bye and bye Tenie went on:"I haven't goophered ("to cast a spell") nobody or anything like that nor done any conjure work for fifteen years or more, and when I got religion I made up my mind I wouldn't work no more goopher. But there are some things I don't believe its a sin to do and if you don't want to be sent around from pillar to post and if you don't want to go down to Robeson, I can fix things so you don't have to. If you just say the word, I can turn you into whatever you want to be and you can stay right where you want to as long as you've a mind to.") The story goes on to say that Sandy decides, finally, to become a pine tree, and that works fine for a while, with Tenie bringing him back as a man at night and turning him back into a tree before morning (it works fine, despite some incidents in which someone cuts off one of his branches, or a woodpecker attacks him, which means that when he comes back as a man, he has a sores on his body). but eventually, the master's wife decides to use him as a source for lumber for a new kitchen (just like the one Annie wants built). Unfortunately, this happens while Tenie is away. The story then vividly describes the great difficulty the men have getting that tree cut down and taken to the sawmill (i.e., Sandy is fighting every inch of the way), and. the horrible sounds the saw makes cutting him up - and the extreme grief that Tenie experiences when she comes back, which drives her crazy The kitchen which is made out of Sandy's wood .proves to be haunted and no one will work in it. It is taken down and made into the very schoolhouse John is using for Annie's kitchen. Even that has queer things about it and no one goes into it at night. So it is eventually abandoned. When Annie hears this story, she decides that none of that schoolhouse lumber is going into her kitchen! John chides her for believing this wild tale, but she is insistent. And when Julius tells her that his church is experiencing a schism and his group is seceding and want to build a new church - and could he use the schoolhouse? - Annie gives her permission. When John asks about using haunted lumber for a church, Julius assures him that ghosts don't bother churches, and if Sandy does come in, the preaching will do him good (all of which raises the possibility that Julius made the whole story up to wangle the schoolhouse for his church!). It was pointed out that Chesnutt managed to convey a lot of information about the evils of the slave system in the telling of this wonderful story full of "black humor." Chesnutt was born in Cleveland in 1858 to parents who were "free persons of color," from Fayetteville, NC, but most of his ancestry was white, and included at least one slave-owner. Chesnutt identified as African-American even though he could easily have passed as a white man. When Chesnutt was nine years old, his family returned to Fayetteville and Chesnutt grew up there, attended schools created by the Freedmen's Bureau and eventually became a teacher there in a school that later became Fayetteville State University. He married, had four daughters, lived for a time in New York City, and then settled in Cleveland where he read for the law, passed the law exam and created a highly successful court reporting business (legal stenography). This gave him the financial stability which allowed him to become a prolific writer of short stories and novels which explored complex issues of racial and social identity in the post Civil-War South. His short story, The Goophered Grapevine (1897) was the first story by an African-American to be published in The Atlantic Monthly. He published several collections of stories, including The Conjure Woman, and The Wife of His Youth. Though he wrote many novels, they were not commercially successful and several were published posthumously. He became more of an activist in his later years, particularly within the NAACP. He died is 1932, age 74.

Charles Chesnutt (1858-1932) ******************************************************** Tonight we are studying two stories, Where is the Voice Coming From? by Eudora Welty, and Going to Meet the Man by James Baldwin. Welty wrote her story the day after the murder of Medger Evans, in 1963, and in it, she enters into the mind of the white man who murdered Evans and tells the story from his perspective. She does this very authentically, and it is chilling. Baldwin's story is told from the perspective of a white, racist sheriff in Mississippi in the 1960's who witnessed a lynching as a ten-year-old boy, an experience that profoundly affected his psyche (and not for the good!). I don't think I'll be able to relate that story in any detail here.

Old Woman Magoun

The third story we read was Old Woman Magoun by Mary Wilkens Freeman. I was unfamiliar with both the story and the author, and was amazed to learn that Wilkens-Freeman lived in Brattleboro for six years in her high school years. The story is about an older woman who is entrusted with the care of a little girl, Lily, whom she keeps safe at home until one day she has to send her to the store, and on that trip to the store, Lily meets a man who is a smooth talker with evil designs on her. When Old WOman Magoun learns of this encounter, and the resultant consequences of it which make it highly likely that Lily will be entrapped in a kind of sexual slavery, she allows Lily to satisfy her curiosity in eating some berries which are poisonous and which she knows will kill her, thus (in her mind) saving her from a fate worse than death. The story has many resonances with live issues today, and I saw one which was not discussed in the class session - it's significance for the abortion debate today. Old Woman Magoun's justifications for allowing Lily to die are not dissimilar to arguments offered in favor of abortion - saving an unwanted child from what could be a miserable life. This story has been widely discussed in the academic world. Wilkens-Freeman has been considered a proto-feminist, and her work compared to folk and fairy-tales. Old Woman Magoun has been compared, e.g., to Little Red Riding Hood. Wilkens-Freeman was prolific, publishing scores of stories in magazines of the time and writing 14 novels. Why have we not heard more about her?

Mary Wilkens Freeman(1852-1930) *********************************************************** Our teacher is Peter Schmidt. Thursday, we will be studying stories by Eudora Welty and James Baldwin.

Peter Schmidt

Young Goodman Brown

The second short story we studied last Thursday night was Young Goodman Brown by Nathaniel Hawthorne. This story deserved a full evening (well, actually, they all did!), so we hardly scratched the surface. But this is classic Hawthorne - a story in his "dark Romantic" tradition, revealing the sin and evil inherent in humanity. Young Goodman Brown is a Puritan, a resident of Salem, MA, who sets out one evening into the wild woods around Salem for an unspecified evil purpose. His new wife, Faith, does not want him to go, but he is determined to go. Well into the woods, he meets someone, unidentified, but an older man who carries a unique walking stick which is like a writhing snake. The older companion reminds Goodman Brown that he had known his grandfather when he had lashed a Quaker woman, and had helped his father burn down an Indian village during King Philip's War. Goodman Brown again and again says he is going to go back. He is having doubts about his intentions, and his companion (who we increasingly feel might be the devil in disguise), does not deter him, but something always stops him from returning home. He doesn't want to dishonor the old woman who taught him his catechism, but then, there she is ahead of him in the path! He hangs back, but his companion walks with Goody Cloyse, and we learn that she is actually a witch. Later, Goodman Brown, in hiding, sees his beloved minister in Salem and Deacon Gookin walking and talking, heading for the same gathering he is headed for. He is dismayed to learn this, but still does not want to disapppoint his dear wife, Faith. But when he finally arrives at the gathering, there is Faith too! It is a gathering called by the devil, a society of devil-worshippers, luridly lit by burning pine trees, and everyone he had respected for their uprightness is there! They are all hypocrites! Goodman Brown goes home a changed man. The reader is left unsure whether the whole thing might actually have been a dream- a nightmare - but in any case, Goodman Brown becomes a bitter, disillusioned man, unable to relate to people he had loved before, and he goes to his grave a gloomy cynic. That's pretty condensed, but you get the drift. It must have been a pretty controversial story when it was first published, implying that the leaders of the Salem Church were all evil hypocrites! I guess Hawthorne didn't go to church there! I associate Hawthorne with an English Professor I knew at Brown University when I was a graduate student there - Hyatt Waggoner - who was a Hawthorne specialist. By coincidence, we know his daughter, Jane, who lives in Brattleboro right next door to Andy and Robin Davis! Hawthorne is someone I wish I knew better. I have read The Scarlet Letter, and some other stories, but would like to read more.

Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864) ******************************************************** I am currently at the Guilford Church. Ellen is here for her knitting group. It is a beautiful fall day. Yesterday we went to church on Zoom - it was held at the West Dover Church, but I stayed at home because there was a Keuka Memorial Service at 9:30a.m. that I wanted to attend. That way I was able to do both. Tomorrow will be the third singing session with Mary Cay - we missed last week - and it will be chilly! Dress warmly!

A new course

LET ME EXPLAIN: for some strange reason, no matter how many spaces I put between paragraphs when I'm creating a post, when I click "publish," the spaces all disappear.********************************************* Ellen and I have started a Swarthmore-sponsored course on Short Stories in the U.S., taught by Prof. Peter Schmidt, who is a Professor of English Literature, specializing in U.S. Literature and cultural history, who in recent scholarship has focused on the study of post-Civil-War, "New South" fiction in the era c. 1880-1920, with special attention to racial issues. The course is held on Zoom on Thursday evenings, 7:30 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. There are over 100 participants in the course, so there isn't going to be a lot of class participation, but there is some. The first session (Sept.16th), we studied four short stories, which Peter titled "Four 19th Century Horror Tales." (1) The Telltale Heart, by Edgar Allen Poe; (2) Young Goodman Brown, by Nathaniel Hawthorne; (3) Old Mother McGoun, by Mary Wilkens Freeman; and (4) Po' Sandy, by Charles Chesnutt. Of these four, I had previously read only the Poe story, though I had read other works by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Freeman and Chesnutt were totally unfamiliar to both Ellen and myself. I will try to have something to say about these four stories and their authors between now and next Thursday (no guarantees!). The Telltale Heart begins in this way: "True!—nervous—very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses—not destroyed—not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily—how calmly I can tell you the whole story. It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture—a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees—very gradually—I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever." Peter Schmidt introduced the concept of the "unreliable narrator," as an interpretive tool. The first paragraph causes us to mistrust the reliability and honesty of the one telling the story. Maybe he is mad! Maybe none of this actually "happened," - it is a wild fantasy. The story goes on to describe how the narrator would cautiously enter the room of the old man at night with a veiled lantern which could be "cracked" to send a laser-like beam of light onto the closed eye of the old man without awakening him. He takes a peculiar delight in doing this for a week, but then, one night, he accidentally makes a sound in the dark, and the old man awakens. He remains silent and lets the old man grow increasingly terrified. Then suddenly he sends the beam of light onto the open eye. He then becomes aware of the sound of the beating of the old man's heart, which grows louder and louder until he can bear it no longer, and he breaks into the room. The old man shrieks, and he kills him. He then describes his meticulous efforts to dispose of the corpse - dismembering it, burying it beneath the floorboards and so carefully cleaning everything that no one could possibly suspect anything - all offered as evidence that he is not mad - how could a madman accomplish that? Just then two policemen appear at the door - a neighbor heard a shriek and called the police and they have come to investigate. The narrator calmly invites them in and they eventually end up sitting on chairs right over the corpse, chatting merrily, suspecting nothing. But the narrator hears the beating of the old man's heart! It grows louder and louder in his hearing until he is convinced that the policemen hear it too and are pretending not to hear it to mock him. Eventually he can bear it no longer and he cries out: "Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed!—tear up the planks! here, here!—It is the beating of his hideous heart!" So here is a story of someone who claims to have rationally committed the "perfect crime," but whose inner psyche drives him to confess his guilt. I guess you could say that the moral is "truth will out." I'm not sure I understand why Poe created this story. Does he seek to deter self- deluded madmen from murdering people? Maybe. But whatever the reason, it is a rattling good tale! Poe himself lived only 40 years. He was orphaned at age two and had a strained relationship with his foster parents, due mainly to money issues. His "career" was checkered - uncompleted education, a stint in the army, a failed attempt to be a cadet, attempts to be a publisher. He married his 13-year-old cousin, Virginia; they appeared to genuinely love each other, but she died of tuberculosis 11 years after their marriage. Her death drove him to drink, and he died two years later. Somehow in the midst of all that chaos, he wrote poems and short stories that made him one of the great American writers, a central figure in American Romanticism, creator of the genre of detective fiction, and classics like the present story, and the poem, The Raven. Says Wikipedia, "Poe and his works influenced literature around the world, as well as specialized fields such as cosmology and cryptography. He and his work appear throughout popular culture in literature, music, films, and television. A number of his homes are dedicated museums today. The Mystery Writers of America present an annual award known as the Edgar Award for distinguished work in the mystery genre."

Edgar Allen Poe (1809-1849) ******************************************************* Keuka College****************************************** This weekend I was originally to have attended the 50th reunion of the Class of 1971 at Keuka College, but the Delta variant of COVID caused the college to cancel the in-person event and put it mostly on to Zoom (a few key people in the class met at the college). I attended 3 events by Zoom, Friday eve a reception, Sat eve an alumnae awards ceremony and Sunday morning a memorial service. It was great - I saw former students I hadn't seen for over fifty years, and it was clear that I was fondly remembered and many expressed their gratitude and pleasure at my "being there." I was able to speak directly with a few and send chat greetings to others. I hope to continue some contacts via email. It stirred a lot of memories. I left Keuka in 1969 under unhappy circumstances due to my "liberalism" and the oppressively conservative culture of the faculty and administration. But I loved teaching and enjoyed the students, and it was great to see several of them and learn of their lives since - many of which have been very impressive indeed!

Dr. Jan "Nursie" Stearns Hyatt. "Nursie" earned her nickname at Keuka because she was in the nursing program. But she also took one of my courses. The class performed a skit in a variety show which was a parody of my class. Nursie played me. She was tall - and had to be - because the first thing she did was to come up to the desk, extravagantly plunk her right foot down on top of it, and start lecturing. I thought to myself, "Omigosh, I actually DO that." I was so tall, it was easy for me to casually (and unconciously) lecture with one foot resting on the desk. She was granted an award Sat. night for her outstanding nursing career.

A Zoom screen on my phone during a session.

Japanese Print

Here is another item in my series on paintings, prints and posters I have given to Experienced Goods. This one is a Japanese Woodblock Print by Kawase Hasui (1883-1957) titled Moonlight at Miyajima (1947) It is from the Museum of Art and Archeology at the University of Missouri, and it was part of a show called The Poetry of Nature in Japanese Woodblock Prints, which ran from June 7-August 24, 2008. This makes it easy to know where and when I acquired this print! My daughter, Betsey, and her family were living in Columbia, MO at that time. Her husband, Rob, was Dean of the Department of Music at the University of Missouri and Ellen and I visited them there, and undoubtedly went to this show. ************************************************** Kawase Hasui (May 18, 1883 – November 7, 1957), was one of modern Japan's most important and prolific printmakers. He was a prominent designer of the shin-hanga ("new prints") movement, whose artists depicted traditional subjects with a style influenced by Western art. Like many earlier ukiyo-e prints, Hasui's works were commonly landscapes, but displayed atmospheric effects and natural lighting. Hasui designed approximately 620 prints over a career that spanned nearly forty years. Towards the end of his life the government recognized him as a Living National Treasure for his contribution to Japanese culture.

Moonlight at Miyajima

Kawase Hasui (1883-1957)************** Miyajima (宮島) is a small island less than an hour outside the city of Hiroshima. It is most famous for its giant torii gate, which at high tide seems to float on the water. The sight is ranked as one of Japan's three best views. While officially named Itsukushima, the island is more commonly referred to as Miyajima, Japanese for "shrine island". This is because the island is so closely related to its key shrine, Itsukushima Shrine, in the public's mind. Like the torii gate, the shrine's main buildings are built over water.********************************************** Ellen is returning this evening. She called a bit ago and said she would arrive at about 10:30p.m. We'll stay here at Katie and Savanna's tonight and go home tomorrow. It sounds like she had a good time. Tonight I will watch episode 3 of Ken Burns' film on Muhammad Ali which has been fascinating. I was aware only dimly of his life story, and I've learned a lot. Earlier this afternoon I took a pretty good walk with my poles on nearby Leonard Road. It was close to a mile, round-trip. I'm gradually increasing the distance of my walks. I also completed today's NY Times Spelling Bee and managed to get to the genius level, though it took a while. Tomorrow there will be Centering Prayer in the afternoon and Zohar study in the evening.

Two dancers from the same church

I mentioned in my earlier post that Mariam Diallo, the recipient of the Shirley Harris Crockett award, was a dancer studying at the Brattleboro School of Dance. The BSD will be performing "The Nutcracker" in December, and Mariam will be dancing in it. But yesterday, I learned that another dancer who has a connection with the Guilford Church is being brought back to perform a leading role in "The Nutcracker" - Victoria Jaensen. Victoria is the daughter of Carol Jaensen, whom I have known for almost 50 years. Carol was a member of the Guilford Church who worked with UNICEF in Uganda for several years. For several years we prayed for her regularly in our Sunday services. While she was in Uganda, Carol, who was unmarried, adopted two Ugandan children. One was a boy, Moses, the other a girl, Victoria. When Carol came home to Guilford, the children came with her, of course, and attended schools in Guilford and Brattleboro, and came to church with their mother. They have grown up and have become beautiful and outstanding adults. Moses is married, I believe, and lives in California. He has visited on several occasions and is an impressive man. Victoria is a ballet dancer. Until fairly recently she lived not too far away and we would see her fairly often, but in 2018 she moved to Charlotte, NC, where she became a member of a ballet company. I found this on-line about her: "Born in Uganda, Victoria Jaenson was adopted when she was two months old, moved to the Ivory Coast with her family, and finally landed in Guilford, Vermont. Despite being unaware of any Black ballet dancers to look up to during her youth, Jaenson planned on becoming a professional dancer. She began her dance journey at age seven at Kelly’s Dance Academy and the Brattleboro School of Dance. At age 12, she attended a Dance Theatre of Harlem summer intensive, where she was in class with dancers of color for the first time. She trained later at the Rock School for Dance Education on full scholarship, the University of Hartford’s Hartt School (as a Dance Performance and Ballet Pedagogy major), and Atlanta Ballet’s professional summer intensive program. At the Boston Youth American Grand Prix Semi-Finals in 2016, Jaenson was listed in the Top 12 of the Classical Division and invited to compete at the New York Finals. Though she was not initially hired by Charlotte Ballet II, a year after her first audition, Jaenson was offered a position with the company in 2018. As a CB II member, Jaenson performed in Jean-Pierre Bonnefoux’s The Nutcracker (as the Spanish Dance lead) and Peter Pan, Christian Spuck’s Leonce and Lena, and Othello (as Desdemona). She has also taught on the faculty at the Charlotte Ballet Academy. Jaenson says her reason for dancing is that “it is a beautiful and strong way to move every unique body.”

Victoria Jaensen *********************************************************We look forward to seeing The Nutcracker Ballet

After Church

After Church, the Davis's invited us to join them for breakfast at Chelsea Diner, but it turned out that Chelsea closed at noon, and we got there after noon, so we settled for 99 - a chain restaurant that is sort of a sport's bar. It wasn't serving breakfast, but they were open, so we went in. It was okay - I got fish tacos, and they were pretty good. I saw Peter and Andrea Tracy there, whom I had not seen for years and years - they used to be active in the Guilford Church years ago but left when we became "open and affirming." I was sad to see them leave. The coincidence was that just three days ago, we were sorting through old CDs and DVDs and I found Peter Tracy's video of the moving of the Guilford Church back in 1994 - it was literally picked up and moved about 100 yards or so into a field where it could be enlarged. Peter's video actually filmed the process starting July 4th when we put up silt barriers, took it through the moving day on August 19th and then filmed part of the construction of the new additions, up until mid-November. It was amazing to watch it again - I had not seen that video for ages. Maybe not since it was made. I thought it might be like watching paint dry but it was pretty exciting. I found it remarkable that just three days after that video surfaced, I ran into Peter Tracy in the flesh. **************************************************** Right at the moment, I am at Katie and Savanna's house. Ellen and I came down yesterday evening, and then Ellen got up at 6 a.m. this morning and drove down to Swarthmore, PA to see Wallace, Sarah and Harry. Ellen got little or no sleep last night, so I'm concerned about her. I haven't heard from her, but I'm assuming that no news is good news, because if she hadn't shown up, I would have heard from Wallace by now. At this moment, they are aupposed to be meeting at Swarthnore Pizza.

With the Davis's at 99. Emma, Ellen, Andy and Robin

Swarthmore Pizza. Hope you are having a good time, Ellen!!

The Shirley Harris Crockett Award

Yesterday, the Guilford Church's Shirley Harris Crockett Award was given to a young woman, Mariam Diallo. I spoke during the service about Shirley and the purpose of the award, and presented the Certificate to Mariam. Pastor Elisa had inluded Shirley in the service in several ways: her portrait graced the worship center; a quote from one of her prayers led the service bulletin; I told a children's story she first gave back in 1981, titled "Something is Missing," one of her prayers was the pastoral prayer, and we sang "Shirley of Guilford," a wonderful song celebrating her ministry, composed by Tony Barrand, and Tony was there to lead it. It was a very beautiful and moving event for me. ****************************Here is a bit about Mariam and the award- this is from something I wrote for the church's newsletter: "At the service last Sunday, Sept. 19th, the Shirley Harris Crockett Award for 2021 was granted to Mariam Diallo. She was selected this year by the newly formed SHC Award Committee: Tom and Nancy Ragle, Elizabeth Christie, Diane Larsen-Freeman, Rev. Larrimore Crockett, and Rev. Elisa Lucozzi, GCC Pastor. Writing for the committee, Rev. Crockett said that Mariam Diallo came to the attention of the Award Committee primarily though her singing in several of our services during the pandemic. We were all touched by the authenticity of her singing, and when we talked with both Peter Amidon and Andy Davis, we were impressed by their testimonies to her preparedness, purposefulness and her poise in their recording sessions with her. We learned from them that Mariam has studied voice with Samirah Evans and has also had Steve Rice as a teacher and has sung at First Congregational Church in West Brattleboro where Steve is choir director. Steve has seconded everything Peter and Andy have said about Mariam's skill, conscientiousness and maturity. The committee learned from Mariam's mother, Akosua Nyako, that Mariam is in 8th grade, and has been attending the Guilford church since she was about 3 years old. In addition to her singing, Mariam is involved in dance, art and creative writing. She plays the clarinet and has been studying dance at the Brattleboro School of Dance for several years: studying both classical ballet and contemporary dance forms. Mariam will be performing in the School of Dance's production of The Nutcracker Ballet in December. She is also involved in her community. She is on the Quality Youth Development Program which works with businesses and other community leaders to make Brattleboro a more welcoming and supportive place for young people of all backgrounds. She is also on the Brooks Memorial Library Teen Advisory Board. The more the Award Committee learned about Mariam, the more certain they were that she is the sort of person the SHC award seeks to recognize, lift up and encourage. Her Award Certificate reads that she is granted the award "In recognition of and appreciation for her contribution of song to the worship of the Guilford Community Church and in support of her training as a dancer at the Brattleboro School of Dance." Accompanying the Certificate was a check for $500 and a copy of the GCC history, Safe Thus Far. Congratulations, Mariam!"

I'm presenting the award to Mariam while Pastor Elisa looks on.

L. to r.: Me, Akosua Nyako, Mariam's mother; Mariam Diallo, the recipient; Nancy Ragle, Diane Larsen-Freeman, Elizabeth Christie and Tom Ragle (all members of the SHC Award Committee), and Pastor Elisa. **********************This is the original story, "Something is Missing," from the collection "I Invite the Children to Come Forward." I was able to find (with Ellen's help) a pair of pants, a shirt, a pair of gloves, a pair of socks, and a T-shirt, that I cut things off from to illustrate the story. It was fun and effective. The story was quite appropriate for a time when for over a year and a half, children have not been able to be a part of in-person worship. ******************************************************* Something is Missing! (February 1, 1981) It’s time in our service now for our children’s sermon. It’s been such dreary sort of weather lately, I thought that sometimes it helps, when we’re feeling just a little bit low, to have some new clothes. I thought some of you would like to take home some clothes. Would you like to take this pair of pants home to someone ((Shirley holds up a pair of really old pants). No? Why not? (Child says something) The pocket’s mended isn’t it? Well, I guess that won’t do. How about taking home some gloves for somebody? (Shirley holds up a pair of really worn out gloves). No? What’s missing? (Two fingers). Whoops, you’re right—there’s a part of the glove missing. Well, I guess no one wants to take those home for someone. O look, here is a nice pair of socks! Doesn’t anyone want them? No? ( Child: No, because they have two holes, one on the top and one on the bottom! ... Laughter) That’s true—look at that! Well, I’m not doing very well, am I? You don’t even want to take this nice blouse home? (There are no sleeves!) Oh dear! Well, I have one more thing and it would even fit you—a nice T-shirt. (Nooo!) It’s missing the whole bottom part, isn’t it! My goodness, no one wants any of my clothes. Well, you know, we are something like that here in this church, because sometimes there is some part that’s missing, and we don’t function just the way we should. And what I want to say this morning is that YOU are a very important part of this church. We need to learn what’s it’s like to be little children. Jesus said, “Unless you become as a little child you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.” If you weren’t here, it would be like having those pants that are missing one leg, or gloves missing some fingers, or socks without toes. We need you here in church on Sunday. And we need all the others here too. But I especially wanted you to know that we need the children. Without you, we just can function the way God wants us to.

Fine art

Three of the prints I took to Experienced Goods were reproductions of well-known paintings: "Geraniums" (1888) by Childe Hassam, "The Church at Auvers" by Vincent van Gogh, and Bouquet of Flowers with Lovers," by Marc Chagall.

"Geraniums," by Frederick Childe Hassam

The Church at Auvers is an oil painting created by Dutch post-impressionist artist Vincent van Gogh in June 1890 which now hangs in the Musée d'Orsay in Paris, France. The actual church is in Place de l'Eglise, Auvers-sur-Oise, France, 27 kilometres (17 mi) north-west of Paris. Shirley and I actually went to Auvers and we attended a concert of the Faure "Requiem" in this very church. That was pretty special! But it's funny, the thing I remember from that concert is that the conductor turned around on the podium and sang the bass aria, "Libera me," himself. That was sort of shocking - I had never seen a conductor do that before.

Bouquet of Flowers with Lovers, by Marc Chagall. I don't remember any longer where we acquired these prints. I like all three of them and am feeling a little sad that they have been out-of-sight, out-of-mind all these years. The problem is that our house has very little wall-space for prints, and it is very expensive to get a print framed. So we just never got them framed and hung. ***************** Yesterday we went to Katie and Savanna's for supper. Ellen brought a pie. Jim and Mary were there too - they were headed for a kind of reunion of Mary's Holy Cross college-mates that was being held in the Catskills, NY. So they stopped in Shutesbury for the night and went on to the reunion today. It was really nice having everyone together again. Earlier in the day I had a Dr's appointment with Dr. Brickley - at 9a.m. - and we went over some blood work I had done a couple of weeks ago or so. Everything was "perfect." So that was a good report! I was sort of amazed. Ellen drove me to the appt., and afterward we went to Bellows Falls. I had what I thought was going to be an in-person gathering of retired clergy, first one in a long time. But it had been changed to Zoom earlier that morning, and I didn't see the email because I was at my Dr.'s appt. So I got to the place of meeting and no one was there. I found the person who organized it, who lives in Bellows Fall, and learned the new plan. So I sat in her kitchen with her on Zoom, and participated that way. That was a bit disappointing, but it was good to see the faces anyway. **************** Today I have been busy getting ready for church, WE will be giving the Shirley Harris Crockett Award this Sunday, and I have a lot to do, along with Elisa, to make that happen. I think I have done most of what I need to get done. Just a few little details left to do.

Paintings, prints and posters

I just took a bucket full of rolled up paintings, prints and posters to Experienced Goods, the local thrift store that is operated by Brattleboro Area Hospice (and is a big money-maker for them). There were about 25 items altogether. I photographed all of them before letting them go. I will post them here in bunches, rather than all at once.

British Sheep Breeds Poster. We must have gotten this on one of our trips to England, which would have been back in the 1970s or 1980s. It's a rare poster and very special for anyone interested in sheep. It's in good condition too. Hope someone likes it.

Family Genealogy Poster. I don't think I'm ever going to fill this out with our family tree. The way it's set up it doesn't work well for me, so I'm letting it go.

English Tudor History Poster. This is another poster we got on a trip to England. This one is NOT in very good condition, but it is packed with information!

Andrew Wyeth Poster. The irony of this one is that it is not from the Farnsworth Museum, in Rockland, ME, which specializes in Wyeth, but is again a poster from England. This is a Wyeth painting the Farnsworth doesn't have, I guess.

Detail from Matthias Grunewald's Isenheim altarpiece, which is in Colmar, France. The altarpiece is famous - it is a magnificent work with several panels, and was originally housed in a hospital for lepers. This panel depicts a concert of angels, and is part of an inner view of four panels: The Annunciation, this panel, the Nativity and the Resurrection. Shirley and I went to Colmar and spent quite a bit of time taking in this incredible work of art, so the poster is undoubtedly from that visit. When I tsught a course on The Bible and the Arts at Southern Vermont College back in the 1980s-90s, this altarpiece was part of the course (along with, e.g., the St. Matthew Passion of Bach, William Blake's Job etchings and the play J.B. by Archibald MacLeish). Maybe at some point I will do a series of blogposts about the courses I taught! Yesterday, we went to an Installation Service for Michael Mario at the First Congregational Church, in Springfield, VT. It was a lovely service, and was held indoors in the church sanctuary, but everyone was masked and sat somewhat separated. Michael and his wife, Heidi, were active in the Guilford Church decades ago and he paid tribute to the role Shirley played in his journey toward ministry - "she saw something in me I had not yet seen in myself." That was very sweet. In the photo below, left: Rev. Shawn Bracebridge, Moderator of the Windham-Union Association; the man in the middle is a layman representing the Springfield Church; right is Michael Mario, a Licensed Minister being installed as pastor of the Springfield Church.

9/11

Today is, of course, the 20th anniverary of 9/11. We have seen a great deal of television coverage: re-living the event 20 years ago and reflecting on how it has affected our nation. It is all extremely sobering. I think that if one sentence sums it all up, it is that Osama bin Laden has actually achieved what he set out to do by attacking the Twin Towers. We have played right into his hands. Savanna is visiting us today. She is geting out of the wayof Krystal, who is visiting from California. She feels it is better to just not be there than to be the occasion for conflict. WE had lunch on the deck together and then ELlen and I went to Subaru and piced up our car, which had the AC repaired. That turned out to be more complicated than expected. I'll go into all that later. Right now we're about to go to a Cantrip Concert - a Celtic Band - at Scott Farm. It's a beautiful afternoon: should be fun! "Cantrip The name Cantrip is an Old Scots word meaning a charm, magic spell or piece of mischief and it aptly describes the unexpected twists and turns in their musical arrangements, likewise the compelling potency of their musicianship. Swirling border pipes, raging fiddle, thunderous guitar and three rich voices blend to create a sound energetic enough to tear the roof off. After 20 years of touring, Cantrip has found a character like no other. Echoes can be heard of trad music from the 1960s and 70s, but the years have slowly infested their music with the sounds of funk, metal, bluegrass, swing, and even klezmer. Dan Houghton, Jon Bews and Eric McDonald stir the elements in a witches’ cauldron, slowly coalescing into chaotic order. The three are the closest of friends, and it is this friendship that has cemented the band’s musicality through the years and across ponds. Dan began his career with the whistle at age seven and started playing bagpipes in the early nineties, proceeding to win the Scottish Lowland and Border Pipers’ Society Open Borderpipes and New Composition events (multiple times), as well as the Maitre de Cornemuse at St. Chartier. He is also an accomplished player on flute, bouzouki and DADGAD guitar. Jon is a veteran fiddler, having started at age four. A prizewinning graduate of the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland in 1994, he has performed and recorded with a diverse roster of artists. Eric studied mandolin and guitar at Berklee College of Music. He cut his teeth playing for contra dances in New England, where he can still often be seen from the dance floor, in addition to his work with Cantrip."

Cantrip. In addition to thee three, Keith Murphey is joining them - one of our favorite local musicians.

This week

This week sort of flew by. Monday, we went to a rally on the Brattleboro commons where Bernie Sanders was speaking. John joined us as well. It was a pretty big affair. Bernie gave his usual speech advocating for the $3.5 trillion bill that will accomplish many of his agenda items if it passes. One word I did not hear that I wanted to hear was "Afghanistan"–especially whether he is supporting a significant contingent of refugees to come to Vermont. That issue did not come up in the question period either. I guess I'll have to write him a letter.

Sen. Bernie Sanders speking on the Brattleboro Commons This morning Ellen got up very early and picked up Nancy to take her to the ferry for Star Island, Which is over near Portsmouth, NH. When she gets back, she's taking the car to Subaru to get the AC repaired. So I'll see her later with a loaner car. Earlier in the week, I tackled a job that I've been putting off - photographing a bucket full of prints and posters that I'll be giving to Experienced Goods. It was very interesting to see what was actually there! I'll post some of those pictures in later blogs. Well, here is one:

This is a print that we picked up many years ago at the Bread and Puppet museum in Glover, Vermont

Happy Birthday Shirley!

if Shirley were alive today, she would be 89 years old. So I am thinking of her today with love and gratitude. Here are some pictures from various times in her life.

The photo above is with Deborah McKean.

Church and Fair

Today we had hoped to worship out-of-doors but at the last minute it began to rain and there was a scramble to go inside, and the service was filmed using an iPhone because there wasn't time to move all the camera equipment inside. But this was the first time in a year-and-a-half since we ourselves had worshipped with others in person, in the church sanctuary, and that was very powerful. Everyone was masked, even while singing, but it still felt good to be back. Also, Ellen was originally going to meet Katie, Savanna and Brendon at the Guilford Fair this morning, but the rain delayed that also, so Ellen stayed and went to church with me and we met KS and B at the Fair after church, when the rain had stopped, or at least was more spotty and more like mist than rain. I got a cheeseburger at the Church Food Booth and we all had a bite to eat before going to the oxen pull contest - teams of oxen try to pull increasingly heavier sleds of concrete blocks - going up to 7000lbs at the end. It was a bit chilly but I brought a jacket. I also brought my poles, although I also took advantage of the golf carts available to give people like me a ride to their car, which had to be parked some distance from the main fair grounds.

The choir singing in church this morning.

A local circus performer juggling knives on a unicycle near where we were eating

Having a bite to eat at the fair

Teams waiting to pull the sled

Our favorite team, Robbie and Roy

Our team with a winning 7000-lb pull!

Labor Day Weekend

Happy Labor Day ! Yesterday, Ellen spent much of the day baking brownies, coookies and mufffins for the Guilford Church Labor Day Fair Food Booth, which operates Sundsy and Monday. I had a quiet day at home, although I did go down to the church to drop off things I had bought and was donating to the food booth. That gave me a chance to meet the new church Church Administrator, Debra Zagaeski, who has been on the job about three weeks or so. She is very outgoing and personable. Today I had a meeting of the Shirley Harris Crockett Award Committee - a new group. For a decade and more, Pastor Lise Sparrow and I have taken care of choosing recipients of this annual award, but with our new pastor, Elisa, who never knew Shirley, we've decided to have a committee made up of people who did know her well, along with Pastor Elisa. We had a good meeting and made our choice for this year, which I am excited about, and will share more about in a later post after it has been made public.

Debra Zagaeski, GCC Administrator

The Townshend Dam

Today, Thursday, we took a trip to Grandma Miller's bakery because Thursday is chocolate eclair day! They make eclairs only on Thursday, so we get them fresh, along with a dozen morning glory muffins. We eat the eclairs in the car, with a cup of hot decaf coffee, and bring the muffins home. It was a beautiful day today, a perfect, end-of-summer day, cool, crisp, sunny, breezy, glorious. On the way back, I asked Ellen to stop at the Townshend Dam, something we go past every time we go up to Grandma Miller's, but rarely stop.Today we stopped, I took pictures, we parked near the picnic area and walked down toward the beach. The road was closed - a bar was over the road - preventing car traffic but not foot traffic, and we wondered why. It didn't take long to find out: at the bottom of the hill, the road was under water for quite a stretch. We've had a lot of rain, and it obviously has raised the level of the lake above its normal level. So, naturally, it was closed to auto traffic. In the far distance, beyond the section under water, we could see two people walking who obviously had waded through the flooded section. We were not equipped foot-wise to do that! The Townshend Dam was constructed from 1958-1961, which means it was being constructed while I was the minister in Dummerston (1957-1960). I must have gone up to look at the construction, but I don't remember doing so. But by the time it was done and they flooded the area, I was living in Providence, RI doing graduate study at Brown University. So I wasn't around to see the final push. It is a flood-control dam. It is 133 feet high, and the lake it forms holds 11 billion gallons of water. It is controlled by the Reservoir Regulation Team (RRT) in Concord, MA, where they monitor the flow in rivers all over New England and can close or open dams as needed to prevent flooding. They estimate that in the 60 years of its existence, it has prevented almost a billion and a half dollars in flood damage! It cost $7,500,000 to build in 1961 - I guess it has paid for itself many times over! Here is an album of photos of the Townshend Dam:

Looking at the upper generating tower

Looking below the dam

Looking below the dam to the right

Looking across the upper dam toward the recreation area

Looking at the upper dam spillway

The submerged road leading to the beach area

The electrical generating tower

The picnic area