How fruitless to be ever thinking
yet never embrace a thought...
to have the power to believe
and believe it's all for naught.
I, too, have reckoned time and truth
(content to wonder if not think)
in metaphors and meaning
and endless patterns of ink.
Perhaps a few may find their way
to the world where others live,
sharing not just thoughts I've gathered
but those I wish to give.
Tom Kapanka
Location: Lake Michigan Shoreline, Midwest, United States
By Grace, I'm a follower of Christ. By day, I'm a recently retired school administrator; by night (and always), I'm a husband and father (and now a grandfather); and by week's end, I sometimes find myself writing or reading in this space. Feel free to join in the dialogue.
I have written
of this author here at POI on more than one occasion. Two years ago, I spoke of his
voice:
"One of my favorite author-narrators is Earl Hamner Jr., best known for
his television show, "The Waltons," which aired through the
Seventies. By "author-narrator" I mean a writer whose own voice is
inseparable from the tone and rhythm his words pull from the page. If you
remember the show or have watched its re-runs, you've heard Earl's voice toward
the end of the show as the exterior of the two-story clap-board house is show
(just before all the sibling "good-nights" and a soft harmonica chord sighed into the night). You can also hear his voice at this link as Hamner's
reads the opening of The Homecoming, which was the basis for The
Waltons. The story is about a blizzard that almost kept the father of the
family from getting home in time for Christmas."
There is, however, a little-known recitation of Hamner's that became a favorite
of mine back in the mid-70's. A college friend had "The Walton's
Christmas" album, and I listened to it over and over. I even made a
cassette tape of the particular reading I share below. There was a time I had
it memorized to perform "in old-man character" in a Christmas
program. Because of that the rhythms and imagery have never left me. I lost the cassette decades ago, but through the wonder of YouTube, I found it today. Toward the
end of the recording below, Hamner's prose becomes poetry. In those final lines about the seasons, you'll hear the first time I had ever heard the word
"russet" used as a color. (I had only thought of it as a type of potato.)
But Hamner combines it the phrase "the russet and gold of autumn." It is a line I often say when I see those colors in October. Decades
later, I used the Hamner's "russet" color myself in "A
Melancholy Splendor."
Please take a few minutes to listen to this video. You'll hear Hamner's voice
at the beginning, and you'll hear his heart in the tired, gentle voice of
Grandpa Walton who was roughly the age of Hamner at his passing.
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