Next Door to the Dead--October Blog Binge

I have lived next door to a cemetery for the past 18 years.  When we first moved here, some of my friends and family shuddered at the thought. But my mom weighed in with the wisdom of Grandma Margaret who once said in her typical cynicism, “you have nothing to fear from those people. It’s the live ones you have to worry about.”

Poet, Kathleen Driskell, also lives next to a cemetery which she uses for inspiration in her new collection, Next Door to the Dead: Poems from University Press of Kentucky’s Kentucky Voices series, 2015. Driskell is associate editor of the Louisville Review and professor of creative writing at Spaulding University where she also helps direct the low-residency MFA in Writing program.  She is the author of numerous books and collections, including Laughing Sickness and Seed Across Snow.

The collection begins with an “Ars Poetica” section, which loosely defined, is a reason for writing. In it, she describes the cemetery before her and the effect it has on her creativity in these lines:

“…With this dark 

   nourishment,

imagination, my only god, lifts, takes wing.”

Part 1 contains poems about buzzards carrying away roadkill, funerals that invade the poet’s privacy even though the preacher assured her the cemetery was inactive, mowers who attend the graves, and some imagined back stories for specific grave markers. This section seems to be mostly about the day-to-day of the cemetery’s present.  One poem that resonated with my own experiences living next to a cemetery is entitled “What Haunts.”  Instead of ghosts, as the reader might suspect from the title, Driskell and her husband are beset by teenagers who feel some rite-of-passage obligation to hang around in dark, scary places in the middle of the night. Much of the imagery of this poem paints the invaders as ghostly with words like “float,” “haunts,”

“flitting through air,” “seeming to hang airborne.”  But from the beginning of the poem, Driskell also paints their swagger and life force as something very animal and dangerous. In lines like “the hands of a mob steady in pursuit of scent,” and “bared teeth,” she creates the kind of living being my grandma feared.

Part 2 begins again with the cemetery markers, but Driskell journeys farther afield into her contemplations about the dead. One poem takes us to the Irish Sea, another to the Aran Islands, and yet another to the Kentucky Science Center.  My favorite poem in this section is told in the persona of a mummy at the museum. She talks about her death, her status, how she ends up without a head because of the 1937 flood. Then comically, she relates how two boys reel in her head while fishing. Another poem in this section reveals how Dante Gabriel Rosetti buries love poems with his wife, later realizing that he never made copies.

Part 3 explores the graves of slaves, the marker of a snake handler who dies from snakebite, the contrast between markers for Colonel Sanders and his wife, and a melancholy persona poem about a stillborn child.  The poet also considers why some stones are so small and how that surely cannot indicate the soul’s true worth. A mathematician, still figuring from his grave, laments:

“…I’ve come to 

understand the slash of a grieving man walking

against the winter wind and the equal signs

that wagon wheels leave in the mud

when carrying an infant’s coffin.”

Part 4 takes on a contemplative tone, considering the nature of aging, death and dying. The poet considers the skull of a deer as she takes her daily walk through the woods. She also observes a man who chainsaws “orphan trees encroaching at the wild edges” of the cemetery. The poem, entitled “Clear Cut” describes the raw work of mourning one’s child. A set of persona poems tells the sad tale of domestic abuse. Old dogs and old people defy death. An empty grave mocks and beckons. Driskell closes her satisfying collection with a poem about birds flying in murmuration over the cemetery. As the flock alights on branches, this image emerges:

“…each branch

like a road leading to the heart

      of a town I had not known

I wished to visit.”

I enjoyed my visit Next Door to the Dead. You can find a link to Kathleen Driskell’s latest collection of poetry at WVXU.org

Flavors from Home--the Blog Binge Continues

This book really helped me to understand the plight of the refugee.

Flavors from Home—September

Flavors from Home by Aimee Zaring ( University Press of Kentucky, 2015) is much more than a collection of recipes from refugees who have resettled in Kentucky. Each chapter tells personal stories of how those who have been driven from their homelands by violence or persecution have struggled to adapt to a new culture. Each chapter also offers a glimpse into how the kitchen  comforts  and connects families and individuals removed from their lands of origin.  Featuring more than 40 recipes from around the globe, Zaring sets the table for a dialogue about the role food plays in helping refugees maintain a sense of identity, reconnect with their pasts, and retain their customs.

Zaring met many of her interview subjects through her work with organizations like Catholic Charities and Kentucky Refugee Ministries where she taught English for Speakers of Other Languages. Often her classes would culminate in a multicultural potluck, a dinner where all students prepare a comfort food from their native lands.  The sharing and sense of community engendered by these gatherings suggested a project of larger scope to Zaring, whose writing has appeared in The Louisville Courier-Journal, Arts Across Kentucky, and Edible Louisville, as well as many literary journals.

Fascinating stories of courage, perseverance and self-reinvention begin each chapter as refugees from Rwanda, Burma, Bhutan, Viet Nam, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Pakistan, Hungary, Azerbaijan, Somalia, Cuba, Bosnia, Irag and Iran share their stories of how they came to the United States.  In a few instances, the newly resettled declined to share the specific reasons for their coming, since to do so would dredge up painful memories or clash with their religious beliefs.  But, every chapter concludes with at least two complete recipes for preparing typical comfort food from the refugee's country of origin.

Besides presenting mouth-watering recipes and hair-raising stories of years spent in camps without even the most basic necessities for everyday life, Zaring explains the stark realities of being a refugee in Kentucky. For one thing, each refugee must pay back the price of their airline ticket to the government within a year or so of being resettled.  This is no easy feat for those who must find jobs that do not require an immediate command of English.  I have learned that in my area, Northern Kentucky, as of 2014, there was no main office offering support to refugees, like the Refugee Agricultural Partnership Program(RAPP) of Louisville. This organization helps refugees like Amina Osman from Somalia to earn her passage money by selling produce from her garden to local farmers' markets and commercial kitchens.  They also assist refugees with classes in how to maximize their crop yields in urban community gardens.  I did learn that certain Northern Kentucky companies like Levi Strauss and  Club Chef of Covington are diligent in hiring refugees. Also, Kentucky Refugees Ministry located in Lexington, holds regular office hours weekly  in a Presbyterian Church in Crescent Springs.

While researching to see of there had been any change in Northern Kentucky's status for aiding refugees, who are brought here by the U.S. Government, I was excited to read an article in The Northern Kentucky Tribune that an organization called RefugeeConnect helps arrivals with English instruction and in connecting to other agencies in Kentucky.  Also, the Northern Kentucky Chamber of Commerce, under the leadership of Naashom Marx, vice president of business growth and international trade, sees the potential talent the refugees bring to our business community. "…they're good working people. They were good at the jobs in their country," says Marx in the article.

I especially admire Aimee Zaring's respectful flair for portraying each refugee as they invite her to both cook with them and enjoy the meal afterwards.  The book also includes black and white and color photos that reinforce the author's descriptions of her subjects and their best-loved dishes. The photos lend a family album feel to the work that I came to expect and enjoy with each chapter.

Besides offering a delightful smorgasbord of international recipes, Flavors from Home reminds the reader that many people who come to the United States are escaping war, genocide, and persecution.  They may leave behind any status, material goods, and family that helped define them.  By sharing their experiences and recipes in her book, Zaring affords the refugees a larger table for extending their hospitality to the reader.  I love that she includes a Bible verse emblazoned on the tee shirt of Pastor Thomas Kap, who has resettled in Northern Kentucky to escape religious persecution in Burma.

It's from Isaiah 54:2:

"Enlarge the place of your tent

stretch your tent curtains wide,

do not hold back;

lengthen your cords,

strengthen your stakes."

You can find a link to Flavors from Home, with its multilingual ways to wish you "Bon appetite" at wvxu.org/aroundcincinnati

Wildcat Memories: a Review

As the NCAA men's basketball season roars into our winter consciousness, I have a confession to make:  I am from Kentucky, have always lived in Kentucky, yet, I was not born into the Big Blue Nation of UK basketball. As a child, I sat with my sisters and father on Saturdays in front of the TV and dutifully rooted for the UC Bearcats. My dad was not really much of a sports fan, but he did enjoy college basketball, the Cincinnati Reds, and Big Time Wrestling. So, when those events were televised, we often gathered together in front of our black and white television, equipped with our own Jiffy Pop popcorn. We had no idea that nearly all of our rural neighbors were listening to Cawood Ledford on transistor radios, or standing on their rooftops to get their antennae to pick up the faint and faraway signals from Lexington.

I married into the phenomenon known now as The Big Blue Nation. You could not enter my father-in-law's house without the big console TV tuned in to the Wildcats. And forget about listening to whatever the network color commentators might have to say about the game. True blue fans of UK basketball--at that time--had their radios cranked up to hear the play-by-play from Cawood Ledford.  Never mind that the sound seldom matched the picture. We sometimes heard that the Wildcats had scored way before the basketball on the screen circled the rim and dropped through the net.  "This is the way true fans experience the game," explained my husband, "unless they are lucky enough to get tickets."

Because I know and love many members of the Big Blue Nation, I found Doug Brunk's Wildcat Memories : Inside Stories from Kentucky Basketball Greats, both informative and inspiring. Published in August by University Press of Kentucky, the narrative informs because Brunk organizes his material chronologically, tracing the development of the UK program to the very roots of basketball itself through the mentoring of storied coach, Adolph Rupp by his own coach at Kansas, Dr. Forrest C. Allen and Dr.James Naismith, the inventor of the game. But what sets this book apart from others on UK's winning program is the emphasis on inspiration.  Each interview subject reveals the people who influenced them the most while they played, coached, or worked for Kentucky basketball.  Some credited coaches, other players, secretaries, business leaders, pastors, equipment managers, governors, and coaches' wives. But all of them discussed the influence of the fans and the personal connection those UK fans have to the team. 

All-SEC forward MIke Pratt tries to sum up why UK fans travel the globe, selling out arenas and cheering their team wherever they play with this statement,  "Kentucky is a small state. It doesn't have  a professional baseball team or a professional  football team." Pratt  then continues to emphasize the devotion of the fans with this story, "The first time I realized how important basketball was to Kentuckians was during my freshman year when we traveled to Louisville to play at Freedom Hall. The varsity team went out and practiced, and then our freshman team went out and practiced--a shoot around  There were twelve thousand people there to watch that day's shoot around."

Says former coach, Joe B. Hall of the fans, "Kentucky is the Commonwealth's team, and the support goes from border to border."

"They're very knowledgeable, passionate fans," adds Kevin Grevey.

"The fans refer to themselves as 'we.' They say things like 'We're not rebounding the ball enough,'" says Jeff Sheppard. "They may live in Pikeville and have nothing to do with rebounding during a game going on at Rupp Arena in downtown Lexington, but they consider themselves a part of the program. They are." 

Each chapter of Wildcat Memories begins with important statistics to satisfy the serious basketball aficionado, but continues with first person stories of character, triumph, and connection that will draw in those readers who care more about the human factors that create this special basketball program.  Says Dan Issel in the foreword, "Once Doug emphasized that he was after stories about the people who impacted me during my time playing at UK, that got my interest. I know of no other book that has taken this approach and presented it in a format of firsthand reflections. We are all shaped and influenced by others in some way."

I personally enjoyed all the stories about equipment manager, Bill Keightly, also known as Mr. Wildcat, who served the program for 48 years. And I totally love that I can now put faces and stories to names like Cotton Nash, Jack "Goose" Givens, and Johnny Cox of the Johnny Cox All-Star Highway.

Heart-wrenching, yet inspiring is Derek Anderson's story about being on his own from age 11. He credits the UK program as being the first real family he ever had.

As a newbie UK fan, I often sat around the Schultz table at the holidays and heard epic stories about "Rupp's Runts," Larry Conley, and Pat Riley. I joined the club somewhere around Joe B. Hall and have been a serious fan all through the days of Eddie Sutton, Billy Gillispie, Rick Pitino, Tubby Smith and Coach Cal.  Every season we start anew with high hopes to make new memories.  We won't be in Rupp Arena working on rebounding, but we will be parked in front of our TVs and possibly our laptops and phones, tuning in our team. Or, we'll make a trip to one of their road games part of our family vacation. So, love us. Understand us. Forgive us. We adore our Wildcats. We cherish our Wildcat Memories. Christmas is coming. A fan near you could really appreciate Doug Brunk's fine book.

(Listen to the review at this link)

This review aired on WVXU.org on November28, 2014.

Blood in the Hills: A History of Violence in Appalachia

While watching a U.S. military official apologize to Afghans on the news over the unfortunate burning of copies of the Koran, I was taken aback by the characterization of the Afghan protestors as "primitive." The official seemed to be attributing the protestors' reaction to the gaffe as illogical or intrinsic-- the kind of behavior one might expect from a people who are not totally civilized.

Yet, on our own soil, areas of the United States have been characterized over our history as innately more dangerous and primitive because of their supposed isolation or cultural proclivity toward violence. In Blood in the Hills: A History of Violence in Appalachia, Bruce E. Stewart, assistant professor of history at Appalachian State, collects essays from experts in the fields of political science, history, and literature to question the supposedly innate brutality of the Appalachian people. Published in January by University Press of Kentucky, this book examines cases of violence in the mountains from the late 18th Century through the early 20th Century, making the case that violence in the hills is not isolated or inbred, but reflective of deeper problems within the United States itself.

In his introduction to the essays, Stewart shares prevalent explanations offered by early scholars and writers about the causes of violent behavior in Appalachia. Among those discussed are rugged frontier individualism caused by living in the wilderness, Scotch-Irish descent, and geographic isolation.

Arnold J. Toynbee, in his 1946 work, A Study of History, characterized the (quote) "barbarizing effect of the American frontier" (end quote) on Appalachian residents. Toynbee's explanation follows the late nineteenth century popularization by novelists, missionaries, and scholars of a violent and lawless Appalachia. Toynbee argued that mountain violence was a product of living on the frontier. Forced to live in "the wilderness" where they had to defend themselves against Native Americans, Appalachian whites were thought to have lapsed into savagery, a condition that future generations presumably failed to rise above, according to this theory.

Many early twentieth century writers, however, argued that the Appalachian mountains were peopled largely with descendants of Scotch-Irish settlers who carried with them a "border culture" that included clannish behavior, and a cultural propensity to break the law and fight to defend property. Horace Kephart wrote in 1921, "They--the Scotch-irish--are a fighting race."

Stewart cites the most popular explanation for mountain violence accepted among early scholars as geographic isolation . By the turn of the twentieth century, most writers, educators and missionaries asserted that the mountains served as physical barriers keeping civilization out. C.T. Revere wrote in 1907 that mountain people "had never come in contact with the outside world, and are amazingly ignorant of anything which happens outside their immediate neighborhood." Revere and other writers of the time supposed that this isolation resulted in a peculiar mountain culture where highlanders became "extreme individualists."

Stewart goes on to present more recent challenges to these early theories about mountain violence, including the 1978 work of Henry Shapiro, Appalachia on Our Mind. In his book, Shapiro wrote that the notion of Appalachia as out of step with the rest of America was a post-Civil War construct to make Appalachia "the other," a fictional place filled with natural beauty and populated with backward people who did not embrace progress. This notion gave crusading Victorian Americans the incentive to intervene in the lives of the deprived other, uplifting them toward the civilized world of industrialization.

Shapiro's work inspired other scholars to take a closer look at the cultural explanations for violence in Appalachia. Studies found the region to be more culturally diverse than described earlier with inhabitants who had ancestors from not just Scotch-Irish descent, but also from Welsh, English, German, Italian, Native American, and African lineages, thus debunking the theory of a homogeneous Scotch-Irish "border culture" that espoused violence.

The thirteen essays in this collection serve to cast each instance of Appalachian violence under the prism of history, examining each for complex causes including racial tension, economic inequality, governmental instability, class struggles, politically-motivated infighting, and land disputes. In other words, the kinds of forces that have caused violence throughout our nation at large were also at work in the mountains.

There is an interesting discussion of feuding in T.R.C. Hutton's essay, "Assassins and Feudists: Politics and Death in the Bluegrass and Mountains of Kentucky" where politicians found it expedient to blame political violence on the reputation of "bloody Breathitt" in order to hide corruption. A very compelling account of the state of Franklin which was formed briefly in the 1780s from western North Carolina also makes for interesting analysis. On the surface, the secession of Franklin from North Carolina seemed to be over a federal law requiring states with substantial western lands to cede them to the federal government. But in a closer examination of the historic forces, Kevin T. Barksdale reveals clashes for land with the Overhill Cherokee and a "divide and conquer" policy by one of North Carolina's governors to be instrumental in the bloodshed that eventually ensued. Bruce Stewart's own contribution, to the collection involves the negative image of moonshiners painted by writers of the local color genre in the 1870s.

In fact, many of the contributors to Blood in the Hills credit national press and literary genres with perpetuating the stereotypes of mountain violence. By providing a more complete picture of one region where violence has been exaggerated and misunderstood, Stewart gives the reader a better understanding of violence throughout the entire United States.

This review originally aired on Around Cincinnati on March 11, 2012, WVXU 91.7. You may listen to the archived review at the audio link to the right of this blog.