Continuing coverage of Jacksonville 2009 - Poets extraordinaire

In recent weeks as I’ve had time, I’ve shared my continuing chronicle of the events of the Illinois State Historical Society’s 2009 Illinois History Symposium, “Abraham Lincoln in Ante-bellum Illinois, 1830-1861.”

When I last wrote, I shared my recollections of the Friday luncheon program featuring Michael Burlingame. Let’s pick up where we left off – but first we need to step back a few decades for the intro, then few weeks earlier for part of the story and a day earlier for the rest.

A poet and you don’t know it
My maternal grandmother was a tiny little lady, never five feet tall and increasingly shorter the older she got. Yet, her small stature held great wisdom. Though she had but an eighth-grade education, she was one of the smartest people I’ve ever known – and I’m hard-pressed to find someone who could remember as many birthdays as well as she could.

Grandma was also known for reaching somewhere deep – maybe into a big pocket on one of the home-sewn calico aprons she always wore – and pulling out witty sayings or pieces of verse. She drew upon one of her favorites whenever someone accidentally said something that rhymed. Grandma would say, without fail, “You’re a poet and don’t know it, but your feet sure show it.”

Now, as wise as Grandma was, that never seemed to make much sense to me. I’d look down at my toes, thinking perhaps the short big toe and longer second one were the mark of a poet. That was the one thing that seemed to differentiate me from all of my friends. Alas, though, my feet let me down. I never was very good at verse. Narrative seemed to be my gift.

Poets and we all know it
On the other hand, the presenters at the afternoon session I attended were poets – no doubt about it.

I first met Dan Guillory a few months earlier at a poetry reading in Bloomington, and again at Springfield he week of the bicentennial. Once again, at Jacksonville, Guillory read from his Lincoln Poems, and once again, he wowed the crowd.

Oh, my goodness, I can hear you, Grandma. I wasn’t trying to rhyme, really I wasn’t!

Please be sure to read my earlier accounts to hear about Guillory’s readings at the McLean County Museum of History and the Vachel Lindsay Home. It will paint a clear picture of the palate of poems we heard at the symposium presentation.

The other poet presenting was someone I’d just met at lunch the day before, when we gravitated to each other around a round banquet table. At first there was a seat between us, but as we strained to talk across the empty seat, it made sense to sit next to each other. I knew immediately this college professor from Washington, D.C., by way of Chicago, was a delightful tablemate, but it would be quite some time before I’d realize what a gifted person she was.

You know how sometimes you meet someone and there’s no “getting acquainted” period? You just feel as if you’ve known the person forever, and you share a friendship – almost magically - from the moment you meet? Martha Vertreace-Doody is that kind of person. We enjoyed each other’s company at lunch, walked to my car to get a notebook and walked across campus to the next event.

Vertreace-Doody even convinced me that I should attend the Thursday evening event at the Duncan Mansion, where she would be dressed in 19th century period costume. What I didn’t realize was that the mansion event would set the stage for her poetry reading on Friday afternoon.

You see, a few years ago, this 21st century big-city woman became the voice of a 19th century prairie governor’s wife – the one who lived in that mansion. From diaries and letters, Martha Vertreace-Doody began to craft poems chronicling the life of Elizabeth Duncan, the 4’5” tall (or should it be short) wife of the sixth governor of Illinois, Joseph Duncan. (Grandma would have been tall next to Mrs. Duncan!)

Vertreace-Doody is no novice poet. Quite the contrary. She’s got more than a dozen volumes of poetry under her belt. And, though the Duncan poems are not yet in print - in fact not even all written, I’m sure - there’s no doubt they’re bound to make the grade as another brilliant volume by a talented Illinois author. If the various university presses here in Illinois haven’t got this Chicago poet who writes prairie verse on their radar, they should have!

In retrospect, I wish I’d written down a few lines of this beautiful work to share with you, but I can’t recreate specific poems for you. What I can share is that this poet has found the heart and soul of her subject, a woman much different than herself, and she’s pouring it out in verse so moving it draws listeners in and takes them back to that same time and place. Sure, the poet had Duncan’s own words to draw the stories from, but she weaves a fresh tapestry of verse so intricate the readers can't help but get caught up in it, savoring every detail of each magnificent creation.

That Thursday afternoon, I had to choose between three symposium offerings, all great programs, I’m sure. I’m glad I selected the one I did, not only because the presenters were two people I’ve grown to count among my friends, but also because they’ve created their own legacy of Illinois literature, and I was there to hear them share it. Can’t get much more fortunate than that!

© Copyright 2009 Ann Tracy Mueller. All rights reserved.

Jacksonville 2009 continued

We have some unfinished business here. I told you earlier of my first day or so of the 29th Annual Illinois History Symposium at Jacksonville (Ill.), which was held March 26-28, 2009.

An aside from one of my farmer friends: When I told him I'd been to a symposium, he wrote back to ask, "What do you do at a symposium, anyway? I killed a couple posiums once..." I choose friends who make me laugh - and they always come through.

My reply to him was, "No critters killed - possums or otherwise! ;-)"

Lunch with friends and "Strange-rs"
Another of my newer Lincoln buff friends - one who is an old and valued friend to many Lincoln scholars - Michael Burlingame, was the luncheon speaker on Friday, March 27.

I had the pleasure at that luncheon to have among my tablemates another of my newer Lincoln buff friends, Martha Vertreace-Doody, about whom you'll hear more later, and two of my old Galesburg "friends," Dr. Owen Muelder, and his wife, Laurie.

I had an interesting visit with the Muelders about the rich history of Galesburg, Muelder's encounters as a child with Carl Sandburg and others on the occasion of the Oct. 7, 1958 centennial of the Galesburg Lincoln-Douglas debate, the hope we have for a resurrected Galesburg and the nine-way race for mayor there.

Owen Muelder, of the Underground Railroad Freedom Center at Galesburg's Knox College, was to be presenting at one of the afternoon sessions. Laurie was a long-time teacher in Galesburg's District 205, and though both of us were struggling to remember for sure at the luncheon, I learned later she did have at least one of my daughters in her class at Churchill Junior High School.

Unfortunately, I didn't make it to Muelder's session, as I'd already planned to hear Vertreace-Moody and my friend, Dan Guillory, read in a poetry session at the same time. I'm optimistic, though, that our paths will cross again and I'll get to hear Muelder in a future event.

Congratulations on a well-deserved award
So back to Burlingame, friend and Strange-r. One of the most exciting things about the luncheon was learning that Burlingame was the recipient of the Russell P. Strange Book Award - the third annual, if I'm not mistaken.

According to the release for the 2007 award, the first annual, it's named for Colonel Russell P. Strange, a former vice president of the Society and a lifelong student of history. Col. Strange had an illustrious career as head of the University of Illinois's Air Force ROTC unit and chair of Eastern Illinois University's political science department, his position at the time of his death in 1966.

The award was established by Priscilla J. Matthews, daughter of Colonel Strange. At the time of the 2007 award, Matthews was a Senior Cataloging Librarian at Milner Library and a member of the library faculty at Illinois State University. As far as I can tell, it appears she probably still is.

Burlingame's talk was, as always, entertaining, engaging and humorous - and, even though I heard Burlingame present similar speeches twice on Lincoln's birthday, it never gets old listening to him.

In fact, I was so engaged and so excited about his talk that I had an absent-minded moment once it was over. In my rush to have him sign my copy of his two-volume, 2000-page book, Abaham Lincoln: A Life, I left my camera on the luncheon table. Fortunately, an honest student-worker or catering staff member found it and turned it in to the Illinois Historical Society staff, and Mary Lou Johnsrud, symposium coordinator extraordinaire, kept it safe until I realized it was missing and was able to retrieve it.

He ain't heavy
I'm not surprised I left my camera behind. My backpack, you see, was so full I could barely zip it, primarily due to the magisterial nature of the Burlingame book. It's been a few years since I've carried such a bulging book bag across campus. As I walked to my morning event, stepping back in time and memory to the years of 1970-72, when I traipsed the campus of nearby Quincy College, now Quincy University, I was also reminded of the 1969 song lyrics, "He ain't heavy. He's my brother," and the much earlier Boy's Town theme along the same lines.

All I could think was, "I'll make it across campus with these books. There's no place else I'd rather be right now than with my Lincoln buff brothers and sisters. I can carry Burlingame around. He's not heavy. He's my Lincoln brother."

I got to visit with Burlingame. I got his autograph, and I'm looking forward to the next time we meet on the Lincoln circuit. If my little birdies are correct, I may have that chance later this year in Bloomington. I hope so. I'd love to have my novice Lincoln buff friends and coworkers get to meet and hear him.

But, wait ... there's more
Come back to my blog again soon. I've still got lots to share about the rest of the symposium and other happenings in the Lincoln world.