April 21, 2017

APRIL NATIONAL POETRY MONTH 2017

APRIL is NATIONAL POETRY MONTH
 
 
ISPS Illinois State Poetry Society chose the theme of "Travel" for the Poetry Displays through Illinois libraries.
 
The Southern Chapter of ISPS meets monthly at the Carbondale Public Library.  I attend that chapter and participated in the "Travel" theme.
 
This is my "Travel' poem.
 
 


       THE EXIT SIGN


 
I was barreling down Life’s highway

In the fast lane,

When I saw you,

Standing there under that big 

Green highway sign,
 
“Paradise, this exit.”
 By Doris Ann Grant Frey  © 2017

 
 
 
 
I chose the Alaska photo from Gary's collection
because he was the reason I wrote it!
 
These photos are from the display at the
Carbondale Public Library all of April.
 

 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
The week of April 16 - 22 is Cowboy Poetry Week,
so I shared my Cowboy poems.
 
 
 
This is my post on the ISPS website for April.
 
AND I actually wrote a new one for April 2017
Poetry Celebration.
 
 
 
 
The Herrin City Library had a project to write a poem using word clips in a cardboard box.  Various words and phrases cut from magazines, paper etc.  So I got brave and pieced together a poem.  Strange for me because I usually 'piece' together some patches of fabric for a quilt.  So we'll see.
 
 
So next came an Haiku effort from a trip to the Crab Orchard Refuge, but it seemed so appropriate to piece it onto a loved happy quilt.  See what you think.
 
 
 
 
And my prayer poem for April:

Prayer for April
Dear Lord,
When I think about your grace,
I must make time to seek your face.
I need the shelter of your love.

And when I feel your warm embrace
And sense the joy in this special place
I know the shelter of your love.
Thank you, Heavenly Father !
 
Doris Frey © 2017

 
 


April 05, 2017

March 2017 Memories of Richard Stauder




Richard L. Stauder
Nov 17, 1945 - Mar 10, 2017 
 
Richard's Story
INDIANOLA - Richard L. Stauder, 71, of Indianola, passed away at 8:02 p.m. Friday, March 10, 2017, at the Decatur Memorial Hospital, Decatur.
Richard was born Nov. 17, 1945, in Herrin, to John R. and Mary E. Newton Stauder. Surviving are: one son, Jonathan M. Stauder of Indianola; one brother, Bob E. (Lois) Stauder of Tulsa, Okla.; and one sister, Joyce Ann Rinella of Paducah, Ky. He was preceded in death by his parents.
Richard was a biology, English, and French teacher at Jamaica High School for 25 years. He liked to exhibit poultry. He loved to breed dogs and go to dog shows. He was especially proud of his pure bred miniature Pinschers. He enjoyed horseback riding and traveling.
Funeral services: 10 a.m. Thursday, March 16, 2017, at St. Nicholas Antiochian Orthodox Church, 312 West Elm Street, Urbana, IL with Father James Ellison officiating. Burial to follow in Herrin City Cemetery, Herrin. Memorials to the church. Robison Chapel, Catlin, is handling the arrangements. Online condolences at www.robisonchapel.com.
Published on  March 11, 2017 in Commercial News
RICHARD 
Some days just don’t turn out like you expect.  I was going to play the piano for our chapel service at the nursing home.  First time I’ve been for quite a while.  I had some medical issues, a long winter and there was a new lady who played the piano.   She seemed to be enjoying it so I backed off to let her have the blessing.  Now she has moved on, so I’m trying to resume the blessing.  I love playing along with four guys on guitars, love the awesome feeling to be a part of a group playing our Lord’s music.
An old friend from high school has died.  We’ve not been in touch much since graduation, just a message here and there.  But he was special.  He was one of those unique totally memorable personalities.  Many thoughts of him have invaded my mind since I learned of his death.  His funeral was this morning in Urbana.  They were bringing him to be buried at Herrin City Cemetery.  Graveside service was to be around 3 p.m. and a mutual friend Rev. Ralph Brandon was to speak.  I was supposed to be at the chapel service at 2 p.m.  Since it was my first time back at the nursing home I hated to cancel.  I hoped to be out of the nursing home service and back over to the graveyard at least before the graveside service was over.  I don’t walk good on uneven/dirt/grass anyway so I planned to stay in the van, roll down the window and watch and listen from wherever I could park.
My memories of Richard begin as a freshman at Herrin Township High School.  We shared many classes and common interests.  Love of biology found him in the high school green house after school, waiting for the bus.  My Uncle Frank lived behind Richard’s folks in Energy and I occasionally visited both.  Richard had a chicken coop and rabbits and other ‘pets’ as well.  He loved horses too.  I rode Uncle Frank’s horse Flicka one day but that’s another story.  I know some thought of Richard and me as a couple but it never really got that far.  We were good friends and he was a fun guy.  One time Ralph invited me to go with his Sunday School class on a picnic.  It was at Fern Cliff and when we got there it was a pretty nice gang, including Richard.  Lots of fun, but more remarkable when Richard (already near six feet tall) climbed up on top of a picnic table and announced that he was running for the position of dog catcher for Johnson County.  Of course, we clapped and laughed.  That was Richard. 
 
 
Richard, Doris and Ralph
 
Our senior year, it was time for prom.  I hoped he would ask me.  I so wanted to go with him in a suit and me in a formal.  I waited and waited.  Finally one day he said, “Doriska, (that was my Russian nickname from Richard) know what we should do while everyone else is at the prom?”  So I answered, “What?”  He said that we should get our graduation caps and gowns early, put them on and parade up and down Park Avenue that evening.  That was Richard, funny guy.
After we graduated he finally asked me for a date.  We went to a show and he brought me home.  I was standing on the first step at our back door, he was on the ground.  So at this point our heads were level.  He leaned in and kissed me.  Immediately, he straightened up and abruptly turned and ran to the door of his truck.  He fell into the front sprawled across the seats and his feet hanging out.  I watched him for a while, then gave up and went inside.  Eventually, he recovered, got up and left.  Pretty much, that was Richard.  We both left for school in the fall and lost contact for years to come.
I got to the cemetery about 3:30 p.m.  The grave crew was already filling in his grave.  I was able to park as close as possible to watch.  I stayed until the last pile of dirt was leveled and carefully pressed down on his grave.  The grave crew worked so diligently.  The hearse driver and the Orthodox Father stood by throughout the burial process.  It intrigued me as I sat in the van, waiting, wishing I’d been more present in his life.  I’m glad his burial plot is at the edge of the cemetery, close to the trees and bushes of the woods nearby.  He loved nature, living things, biology.  When the grave crew pulled out all the tools and cleared the area, Father James bowed his head.  He took out the Holy Water and carefully poured it in the form of a cross on Richard’s grave.  He crossed himself and made a final prayer.  I watched from the van as he turned and came toward his car.  I moved my van so the hearse could begin to make its way back to Urbana.  I pulled over by the Father’s car hoping to have a word.
He walked over and stood at my window.  I introduced myself as did he.  Conversation moved easily, both of us comfortable with fond memories and thoughts of Richard.  I reminisced about a teenage boy who was so much fun.  Father James describes an adult man, dedicated teacher, lover of nature, caretaker of animals and special dog breeder.  He talked softly about a man who never married, said he had a serious relationship but it had gone bad.  He tells me that Richard had rescued two young boys, the first his family had abandoned.  He pulled the second boy from another bad situation.  He says that all Richard wanted was for them to grow and to love each other.  He described the man who joined the St. Nicholas Antiochian Orthodox Church.  He said Richard had chosen ‘Nicholas’ as his own Russian name.  He said Richard loved people, always asking folks to visit and enjoyed being in a group.  I asked Father James about Richard’s last days.  He described a sad downhill journey of Parkinson’s and depression, and finally loss of contact with life as we know it. 
We can’t turn back the hands of time.  Typically we only learn from life what we choose, but sometimes things just pop up and stare you in the face and then we wish.  I wish I’d spend less time just laughing at and with our Richard and more time getting to know the real guy inside.  I think he was pretty special. 
Doris Grant Frey © March 16, 2017