Is your Club or Group looking for an inspiring guest speaker or do you want to host a book signing? . . . Contact Woody today!

* * *

For a Personalized Autographed copy of “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME” or “WOODEN & ME” mail a check for $25 to:

Woody Woodburn

400 Roosevelt Court

Ventura, CA 93003

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Lined Up Like Abandoned Books

The juxtaposition was unexpected and poignant.

I was inside the Boston Athenaeum, the city’s original library dating back to 1805 and located atop famous Beacon Hill. In the grand atrium stands a larger-than-life statue of George Washington before a tall wall of windows overlooking a cemetery below.

And therein lies the juxtaposition: the headstones, lined up in row after row adding up to 2,300 markers in all, come into focus like books on the library’s myriad of shelves.

Founded in 1660, Granary Burial Ground is the third oldest cemetery in Boston. Too, it is one of the most eminent as evidenced by a bronze plaque at the iron-fenced entrance: “Within This Ground Are Buried John Hancock, Samuel Adams And Robert Treat Paine, Signers Of The Declaration Of Independence.”

A map and signposts guide visitors to these noteworthy gravesites, but the balance of tombstones remain as overlooked as old volumes forgotten on library shelves.

Initially, I was drawn to the popular books, so to speak.

First up, to the right after entering the gates, was an unpolished stone the size of a couch cushion with a plaque: “Here Lies Samuel Adams / Signer of the Declaration of Independence / Governor of the Commonwealth / A Leader of Men and an Ardent Patriot / Born 1722 Died 1803.”

Furthest, in the back and directly below the Boston Athenaeum’s statue of Washington, stands a lovely chest-high white pedestal inscribed: “Paul Revere / Born In Boston January 1734 / Died May 1818.” A small American stick flag of the sort a child might wave on the Fourth of July was stuck in the ground on this April day.

I had traveled to Boston to watch our nation’s oldest marathon. As I stood in the cold rain at Mile 22, waiting for a brief glimpse of my son running by, a similarity struck me with Granary Burial Grounds: While the spectators all cheered loudly for the race leaders, much like all the cemetery visitors flocked to pay respects to Revere and Adams and Hancock, the rest of the runners went largely unacknowledged individually except by family and friends.

This is too bad, for each of the 26,948 runners surely had an inspiring story to tell in reaching the venerable 2018 Boston Marathon. Likewise, each now-forgotten grave marker surely has a life story worth telling buried beneath it.

After cheering extra for marathoners who “hit the wall,” I was inspired to return to Granary Burial Ground. This time, I paused at tombstones that were falling over or chipped or had inscriptions erased by summer’s rains and winter’s snows.

Venturing this time off the brick walkway, I came upon a headstone with an ornate loving cup and ferns carved into it as well as this inscription: “To the Memory of John Hurd . . . Obit 20 Aug. 1784.” My thought: does anyone remember him now?

In a far corner were bookended headstones, neither larger than a novel, lonesome by a 10-yard circumference except for each other, surrounded by dirt instead of grass, their surfaces worn illegibly smooth. My thought: a wife and husband, I hope.

A larger headstone, this one featuring an elaborate carving of angel wings: “Here Lyeth Buried Ye Body Of Mrs. Elizabeth Cush (the veneer is chipped away, taking with it “ion”) / Late Wife to Cap Jermemiah Cushion / Aged 60 Years November 1689.” My thought: born just nine years after the Mayflower arrived, what was your life story Elizabeth?

One more thought: on and on these forgotten gravestones go, like anonymous runners in a marathon, like musty books on library shelves.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

• Personalized signed copies are available at WoodyWoodburn.com
• Unsigned paperbacks or Kindle ebook can be purchased here at Amazon

Is your Club or Group looking for an inspiring guest speaker or do you want to host a book signing? . . . Contact Woody today!

* * *

For a Personalized Autographed copy of “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME” or “WOODEN & ME” mail a check for $25 to:

Woody Woodburn

400 Roosevelt Court

Ventura, CA 93003

* * *

Poet For Hire: Your Topic, Your Price

April is National Poetry Month, proclaimed to be the largest literary celebration in the world, and so I am naturally thinking of Whitman and Dickinson, Longfellow and Frost, Angelou and Shannon.

“Shannon?” you ask, confused if not bewildered.

Shannon is a poet I met in New Orleans, a street poet in the French Quarter, a poet for hire along a storefront sidewalk two doors down from a Cajun restaurant with a 30-minute wait. That was about 25 minutes longer than she needed to compose an original poem for me.

Shannon, seated in a folding chair behind a TV tray table, had her nose in a novel as the world walked by. Intrigued by the vintage typewriter before her – actually, I suppose the word “vintage” is redundant in the 21st century of laptops and tablets – I stopped.

Intrigued also by the handwritten sign hanging from the table, “Pick a Topic, Get a Poem!” I interrupted her reading.

“Any topic?” asked I.

Looking up from her paperback, she smiled and assured: “Yep, anything.”

“How much?”

“Whatever you like,” she answered.

“What if I don’t like the poem?”

“Then it’s free,” she said, sounding earnest. “Even if you like it, it’s free if that’s what you want.”

I decided I wanted a poem. I also decided that even if I hated the free verse I would pay something. Indeed, I imagined that was the brilliance in her marketing: very few people would stiff her for work already performed. Chatting later, she confirmed this was true.

Shannon, a comely 26-year-old, looked the part of a poet with her raven hair buzzed to the length of velvet on the right side, standing tall at attention in the middle, and falling like a crashing wave over her left ear.

While waiting for a dinner table to open, I learned this poet has taken a road less traveled by. At age 13, Shannon moved out of her house for her own safety and after high school fled New Jersey for vagabond excitement.

For a while she “ate fire” as a street performer and also did tricks with a Hula Hoop set ablaze. She eventually gave up fire eating and instead fed people as a short-order cook. Five years ago, she traded a gas stovetop for a QWERTY manual keyboard.

“Words have always been my love,” Shannon told me. “My grandma was a positive influence on that – she forced me to read. She wouldn’t buy me toys, but she’d get me as many books as I wanted.”

Armed with a secondhand typewriter off craigslist, Shannon became a wayfarer poet. She has traveled the country the past few years, from New York to Philadelphia, Nashville to Seattle, San Francisco to Santa Barbara to Ventura – “I set up by your beautiful pier,” she shared – to San Diego.

Shannon has journeyed largely by hitchhiking with occasional hops on grainer train cars and boxcars. Arriving in a city, she couch surfs with friends or sleeps in abandoned buildings – “Urban camping,” she calls it. When needed, she rents a room.

“I like the variety,” Shannon says of her circus-like existence.

For income, she writes poetry for tips along busy boardwalks and sidewalks, on subway landings and at farmers’ markets.

In the early going, Shannon says composing a poem took her 15 minutes or longer. Today, with a few years of deadline experience, her fingers dance on the keyboard confidently and without hesitation, producing word artistry in half the time.

In next week’s column, I will choose a topic and share the resulting original poem by Shannon.

* * *

Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

• Personalized signed copies are available at WoodyWoodburn.com
• Unsigned paperbacks or Kindle ebook can be purchased here at Amazon