When a senior in high school
When a senior in high
school, I wrote a term paper – stayed up all night, read four books on the
Battle of Gettysburg and wrote the paper -
in one fell swoop, or as I like to say, one swell
foop. That afternoon I turned that paper in to my English teacher, Ms.
what’s her name (Oh, God, what is her name?) who honored me with four A+’s on
that paper. I was stunned, just as I had
been when she choose me to read
the leads in both the plays we did that year: “Cyrano DeBergerac” and “Abe
Lincoln in
So again I had been recognized
(and praised even) by this teacher/savior
come lately, but I was dying so on the inside, terrified, forlorn … wallowing in desperate effort just to keep
ahead of self destruction – for relief.
I’d have chosen the moving on
but (my since possessing memory) incessant.nightmare predicting that when I
would die, I would float off naked, cold and alone for eternity into empty,
infinite space, kept me here. I am 63
now – 46 years later and am no longer living in that nightmare … and I am
writing again.
I have many to thank for
this, certainly myself and my determination to get better, but primarily my
angelic wife I must thank for her resurrection of (and yet so far surpassing) that
teacher who saw the light in me even as I railed against that light; And I
thank deeply the few friends who stuck with me and also saw the light of God
that I, to most, had kept so well hidden in my agitation, in my rage.
Pete and Mel, none am I more
grateful to, of these than you. Your charity, praise, forgiveness, courage and
love for all, and opportunities for me to share my writing
and to perform have given me new
life, shown me the way to be a better human and
inspire me to write and
perform for great causes as you have done.
By your example and your warmth, you have given me a chance again to be
the person God intended me to be. Thanks for believing in me and my
poetry.
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