FAITH by WILLIAM BENJAMIN BREWER

  There was a pic here of snow capped mountains in the distance; google may have removed it.. But poem doesn't need to be dressed up. ab                                            
                                                                              

When I am gone if you may wonder
How that is and where,
Look up to ridge against the blue.
You'll see me walking there
With never a hurried step,
And to the north you'll find a cirque
Of snow that never ever melts;
To south I'll skirt a scree
That drops to aspens
Where they throw their druggets
By the spruce and jigsaw pines,
Leading them to valley cottonwood
That clusters aged by the water:
There will be you in your labor
Ill at ease with things about.
Know then you as I
Will someday find your trailhead too,
Whose upper turns will switch
And lift you back and forth
To where you'll share with me my ridge
That rises into all sublimity.
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Today, July 30, is Ben's granddaughter Eva Brewer Trimble's 25th birthday. She made him a "paw paw" because she was the first grandchild. I am publishing this especially for her, whom he loved.


Love from annie. There were pictures on here which google removed!!! Shame on google.

old7lady9blogger80@gmail.com
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OCTOBER SONNET by WILLIAM BENJAMIN BREWER

     Migrant purple shade is on the grass,

And sad bird song recalls a spring in fall.

October breeze seems all too soft to last.

And second glance finds purple's reached the wall.

      Worn out leaves retain a faded green,

But some show edges hinting now a red;

Still others in a downward twirl are seen,

Preferring not to wage a futile fight in dread

        Proper is my role within this autumn act:

My wistful soul would join in that bird's song,

My parts fatigues cannot deny the fact

That autumn's cool will turn to ice ere long.

         October is of life the last and best,

But knows that soon will come its final test.

{*Watching Lydia play soccer.)
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From annie: 
It still seems like summer but October begins tomorrow. Ben loved all of Autumn...but especially OCTOBER!!  Ben wrote this while he watched his granddaughter at soccer practice several years ago.   I publish this poem especially for Lydia Grace Brewer, 17 years old.....much loved by Paw Paw.


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CHICOMA CLIMB by WILLIAM BENJAMIN BREWER

Mount Chicoma. 11,500 ft is the peak on the left.

There's one today will climb Chicoma,
Hear the rush of wind birds,
See the tops of pine.
Far above the fisher's hook
He'll take the breathless step
And rest
To look and feel himself to be
The last-laid stone that capped
The highest pyramid of great antiquity.
        I would be that stone,
Atop Chicoma's cone,
Would feel on all sides under
Common world that quivered to my thunder,
         I would be Chicoma's peak
Yet see me from the valley
I would know the peasant's pleasure
As the scholar understands it.

 View from Chicoma

This is one of the poems I found in a loose leaf notebook  6 weeks after my husband died April 6, 2012; they were written in pen and ink and no one had read them before. Handwritten made them seem all the more alive as if he had just laid down the pen.
 He loved the state of his roots: Kentucky. But even more, perhaps, he loved New Mexico the state of his awakening .

Submitted to my Blog friends, with love, annie
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WHEN ANNIE HEARD THE ORIGINAL BLACKWOOD BROTHERS QUARTET AT SPEEDWAY BAPTIST CHURCH

                                                  ORIGINAL BLACKWOOD BROTHERS QUARTET

                   RW                                   ROY                           JAMES                  DOYLE


One Sunday morning at Speedway Baptist Church in Memphis people were asking each other..."Blackwood Brothers? Who are they?"
The preacher announced  that the entire evening service would be music by the Blackwood Brothers, a gospel quartet, formed in Choctaw, Mississippi.  These were the original brothers plus Bill Lyles, (not the replacements that followed later.)

The quartet formed in 1934 (when I was a year old) then moved to the Shenandoah Valley in Iowa, where they were successful. Because their parents were in poor health, in 1950 they relocated in Memphis to be nearer them.

That's about the time they came to  our church. They sang on WMPS radio and people were beginning to listen. A Speedway member  heard them and invited them to sing at our church.


 Jackie Marshall, pianist on top,Bill Lyles, bass,   second row on the right. They were there that night.Bill Shaw was not there because he had not yet replaced Doyle.

Our church, curious as to what we would hear, was packed that evening.

Their pianist came on  stage first and then the oldest member Roy. I think he only sang on first song or two.

Roy Blackwood December, 24 1900 - March 21, 1971

Roy Blackwood was an ordained minister in the Church of God in the 20's and early 30's. He was the oldest member of the original Blackwood Brothers Quartet and sang the tenor part. In the late 40's Roy retired from the quartet and after the group moved to Memphis in 1950 he worked in the Blackwood Brothers Record Shop. He and his wife Susie had two sons, R. W. and Cecil
The other brothers were Doyle






Doyle Blackwood - August 21, 1911 - October 3, 1974







Doyle Blackwood was the bass singer in the original Blackwood Brothers Quartet and accompanied the group on guitar. Doyle retired from the quartet in the late 40's and managed the Blackwood Brothers Record Shop in Memphis. ,

James






James Blackwood - August 4, 1919 - February 3, 2002







James was the youngest of the brothers. He sang in the quartet from it’s beginning in 1934 until he joined the Masters V in 1981. He won 9 Grammy Awards and 7 Dove Awards as Best Male Vocalist. James was called "Mr. Gospel Music," a title given to him by the many people who loved him. His voice was regarded as one of the best ever in gospel music. 



R.W. who was Roy's son





R. W. Blackwood - October 23, 1921 - June 30, 1954







R. W. Blackwood was the baritone in the original Blackwood Brothers Quartet. He was the oldest son of Roy and Susie Blackwood and nephew of James and Doyle. R. W. is remembered for his beautiful, rich baritone voice. He thrilled audiences with his showmanship as well as his extraordinary vocal ability. He was the pilot for the group when they traveled by plane in the early 50’s. He and his wife Elaine had two sons, Ron and Winston.








And Bill






Bill Lyles - December 7, 1920 - June 30, 1954
 Bill had blond hair






Bill Lyles was the bass singer in the Blackwood Brothers Quartet from the late 40’s until his death in 1954. He was the co-pilot for the group’s airplane in the early 50’s. He is still regarded as one of the smoothest bass singers in gospel music. 

The church was dark except for the stage.

The handsome pianist began playing.

Then the singers almost danced on to the stage.

They were so handsome and effervescent!

They stole our hearts from the first notes.

I have already written about my love for black gospel music.

Henceforth, I would be a lover of country gospel too.

I think it is generally conceded that Elvis was heavily influenced by both black and white gospel music. He especially loved the
Blackwood Brothers and Statesmen quartets. Later he would use them in some of his performances.

But getting back to that special night at Speedway.

This is the only recording I could find of that original group.

They were marvelous and we simply didn't want the music to

end and kept begging for more.  And they DID GIVE US MORE!!

All of the singers who were there (and many who were in the congregation that night) are dead now.

But I count myself blessed that I was there and remain a witness to how wonderful they were in person.

In only a few years two of the singers on the stage that night 

would be killed in a plane crash. But that night nothing sad 

had entered their lives.

They went on to sing on the Arthur Godfrey Show in 1954 

and that same year RW and Bill died. Those of us who

heard them at Speedway were very sad. Only with us a few  

hours we felt like they were somehow part of us and our 

church. We felt some sort of bonding.

Although outstanding replacements were found, still those of 

us who heard them would always miss RW and Bill.

. 

Here is a 1955 recording with two replacements.

But I'll never forget that original group I heard at Speedway 

so long ago....GOD IS GOOD. 

               



All for now, Love from annie in memphis


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WHEN ANNIE BECAME A RUNNER

                                                   


In the fall of 1979 I was 46 years old and feeling down cast.  I can't explain to you, my blog Friends, why. A wonderful husband, sons, and friends had I. Yet I felt fat, bored and boring. Depressed.

One theater  movie and one made for TV movie  shook me up and  started me on a new road...running. 

The way I was feeling at the time, I saw Rocky as a character slightly like me. We felt like losers.  It didn't seem possible that Rocky could get himself in shape enough to become a champion boxer. I was most impressed with the running scenes and especially when he ran up the front steps of a state building with his raised arms waving jubilantly. 

Could I, a forty-six year old homemaker, begin a running program, myself....well...maybe....
 Then one night I saw a made for TV movie, SEE HOW SHE RUNS, released in 1978; it also made a huge impact on me. Joanne Woodward played a forty year old divorced school teacher. who physically and emotionally was sort of in the place where I was. In the movie the character began for the first time in her life (just like me) to run. 
She got better and better and better and eventually ran in the Boston marathon.  Both of these movie characters  were victors; that is what I wanted- INTENDED  to become. 

So I announced to Ben, the boys, and all the family and friends  that I was going to start running every day. They thought, "Right??!!" I went to Target and got a cute navy blue warm up suit (long pants) almost identical to this one and a pair of running shoes.      What else could I possibly need to become a runner??!!  Right?!

This is a good time to mention that I had NEVER been athletic. When soft ball teams were chosen in gym, I was always the last to be picked!! 

It is one mile from our house to Overton High School. This would be my 2 mile course.
 So the very next day around dusk I started out...and suddenly my lungs began to hurt the way they had up in the higher mountains in Colorado.

 So I started walking. Then I would alternate between running and walking until I finally got back home. What could I do? I couldn't give up after buying my running wardrobe. 

So the next night I alternated again, then the next night, then the next... my lungs quit hurting. Then after three weeks I ran all the way to the high school before I had to alternate again. Whoo hoo. 

Then after a few more days I ran the entire course of two miles without stopping. When I ran into our house, my arms were lifted up like Rocky's in total rejoicing.

I ran 6 miles a day 7 days a week for many years. I can't tell you how the experience lifted me up, up, up. Without dieting I returned to my teenage weight.  I thanked the Lord every day for giving me the gift of running.  I felt peppy. I even ran in several Memphis 10 K races. I had a shirt on from one of those races when I was running through Wreck Beach, I told you about recently. I was 51 here finishing a race.

So I thought you might like to hear about this. Many of you women in your forties, in particular, may be feeling  the way I did.  You can find SOMETHING, not necessarily running, but something that can help your life the way running did mine.

 Do I still run?  No. I am 79. But I ran often well into my sixties...and found that the eyes of a runner view the world at just the right speed.
 

All for now, Love, annie.    God is good.
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KENTUCKY HILLS by WILLIAM BENJAMIN BREWER

               bluff on Ohio R and Kentucky Hills

        Kentucky Hills

Hills hirsute above your dripping bluffs!
My chromosomes subside,
Abandoned for a time defensive mode
Sensing they are home.
     Vibrations sympathetic with my DNA
Tell me yonder circling crow
Above that crew cut nameless ridge
And I down here below
In this hollow passing by
Share a hilly heritage
Neither can deny.
       Kentucky hills!
The Ode to Joy rides upon a fiddle string,
And then I know it did not all begin with me,
When I was called to be aware,
Nor did I simply spring from out the air
My blood seeped over fossils of my type
Lying deep within these walls
Over which a Lilliputian cataract now falls,
And in my cells the flavor of this place is strong
So I am neither new nor do I sing my song
Within a program all alone
But squeezed through every layer
As the water of a hillside spring
I birthed from out the fissures
Of this sedimentary stone.
To stand upon striations in the bluff,
Where if I sing my piece with merit,
Ash that's mine will someday lie
One layer more in this Kentucky bluff of time.
This poem had not been read by anyone except Ben, himself, until I found it in a loose leaf notebook with around 50 other poems  only a few weeks ago. Ben died on Good Friday. I can't tell you how much the poems mean to me, his widow, and all the family. I am sharing some of them with you, my blog friends.
With love, annie
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ANNIE ON WRECK BEACH VANCOUVER

Well, Blog Friends,
You might well wonder what annie was doing on Wreck Beach at Vancouver.
Vancouver
lovely city
Well, this is what happened. Maybe thirty years ago  Ben was taking a six week intensive course in  Japanese at University of British Columbia . He was already teaching a first year course at U. of Memphis, but wanted to advance his students to a second year. actually ben rode his bike all over campus, so I chose                                                                  this pic of U of Memphis.
The plan was that I would fly out and spend the last two weeks with him. 
As it turned out, he had so much class work to do, that I hardly saw him, which meant I was out on my own a lot.
Ben rented a tiny apartment walking distance from the university. So every day I would run over there and look for some action. 



One day I heard the most marvelous singing at a distance. I ran up to a large white tent on campus where a meeting of the World Council of Churches was happening that summer. What luck!  I ran over there every day, watched them debate on various issues, (can't say for sure, but I think in this building.) Morning worship was in the white tent, but the business was carried on in campus buildings. 


I went to a reception for Coretta King in the school library. I did not mention I was from Memphis, but I did get to say hello to her.


 So you might ask what this has to do with Wreck Beach? Well, I am an old lady and I am just getting to that.
One day I was running along the road leading to the university but decided to go down to the beach and run there.  I had on my 10 k Memphis Race shirt, shorts, and nikes. Anyway, I was deep in thought, when I happened to look down trying not to step on sun bathers as I ran.
Beach without sunbathers.
 Well, many people seemed to be lying on their stomachs, which gave me the opportunity to see many naked bottoms. What? I said, this girl being from the Bible belt. I obviously had not seen this sign: I just kept running, trying not to step on anyone  and finally got back on the road again.  Later I learned this from the internet. Wreck Beach adjoins the University of British Columbia (UBC) campus, west of the city limits of Vancouver. It is accessible by road, water, and public buses. The most popular part, Trail 6, is 3 km overland from Vancouver.

Nudity is optional throughout Wreck Beach; however, regular beach-goers consider it good etiquette to join the unclothed rather than just observe them. Additionally, due to Wreck Beach's proximity to the University of British Columbia, many students and even faculty, can be found at Wreck Beach
Was I "bewitched, bothered, and bewildered" 


upon seeing this?


Not in the least. 


Sandy bottoms were not erotic at all. So I was 
okay.


Still I felt like an intruder and sped away. I felt like it was an experience 


not many of my friends at home would ever 


have.


All in all we loved Canada.  This was a true 


precious memory. 


 If you have been to a 


nude beach lately, tell me about it.


love, from annie


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NIGHT RAIN by WILLIAM BENJAMIN BREWER (1933-2012)

                               

No friendly storm it came
In deepest dead of night:
A thousand angry light bulbs all at once,
And banging pots and pans
Like madman in a rage.
          No gentle wash was this
For our blue thirsty planet,
Just a piss of rain
That sought to crack our roof tiles.
Take things from their places,
Drop the faithful to their knees
Giving thanks the lash falls elsewhere
Doing pain out there and, rightly,
Passing over us the chosen.
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The morning Ben died, I searched through all the drawers and everywhere, looking for any little scrap of paper, speaking to me and his other loved ones. Then a few weeks ago I found a loose leaf notebook just stuck in a drawer; there were around 50 poems he had written by hand in pen and ink. I am savoring them all and am so grateful to him that he left these (before unread by anyone) to us. I am sharing just a few with you. Love, annie
old7lady9blogger80@gmail.com
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IMMODESTY IS UNBECOMING BUT...by WILLIAM BENJAMIN BREWER

    


When I consider things on earth


With implications left augmented


By my interactions with them,


              I'm sustained


To know I have added one dimension


To a bit of God's creation


When He had called it done.


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WBB 1933-2012
I am pleased to submit some of my husband's poems I found in a loose leaf notebook only a week or so ago. I had never seen them
before, but I am delighted that he left them. I want to share them with you. With love, annie
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PROOF by WILLIAM BENJAMIN BREWER

Oh, there's a man I knew
When we were both eighteen!
We were not close back then,
I've passed him many times right by
And never said hello.


I wish so now that we had talked,
But truth is then I had no need of him.
How to know back then that he'd become unique,
Witness to the fact that I was once eighteen?


He may recall me now as fool,
But let me hail him anyhow,
For I can name a street,
I can sing a song
And that man there will know what I mean...

Yes, I will speak to that man there,
He'll serve as proof to you,
And even more to me,
That I was once eighteen.
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Here is a photo of Ben when he was around l8. He is on right playing mandolin, his father in center, and his brother on left playing guitar.1952. 
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WBB 1933-2012 self portrait

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I am pleased to submit some of my husband's poems I found in a loose leaf notebook only a week or so ago. I had never seen them
before, but I am delighted that he left them. I want to share them with you. With love, annie


old7lady9blogger80@gmail.com
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GLIMPSES by WILLIAM BENJAMIN BREWER

                           
                                 





Quick light flickers in horizon sky,
Before I turn, brief glow eludes my eye.
Familiar scent can come on alien street,
Recalling somehow one in youth so sweet.


A face I glimpse repeats one I have known,
That sketch then fades into the years and's gone.
Vague syllables from nearby table seem
Reprise imperfect of a faded dream.


Faint notes I catch sometimes from out my past,
Reverberations these that will not last.
I would recapture youth inside my head,
But yesterday is of the heart instead.


Breezes blow affirming young was there,
But time befouls of youth the pristine air.


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WBB  1933-2012 self  portrait
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I am pleased to submit some of my husband's poems I found in a loose leaf notebook only a week or so ago. I had never seen them
before, but I am delighted that he left them. I want to share them with you. With love, annie
old7lady9blogger80@gmail.com
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