This is a longer poem that came as the result of a house
I discovered while fishing about 40 miles from Missoula,
Montana.
And I think I was perhaps the first person to go into it,
although it had been abandoned for quite some time.
And while I was rummaging around in the things
that the people had left, I found
some books and some letters and other things like that
that I mention in the poem.
And I discovered that the people who
had lived in this house for two years had been Black.
And I thought, boy, what a tough life that must
have been, to be Black and living 40 miles from Missoula,
Montana.
So I wrote this poem about it.
And the poem has, like, three voices.
One is my own, relating to discoveries that I was making.
The other is of a letter that I discovered
from the mother of the wife, who was writing to her family
from Chicago.
And the third voice is the voice of Garner Ted Armstrong,
who predicts the wonderful world tomorrow.
If you've never listened to it, you should hear it some time.
So the poem has an epigraph.
And the epigraph is from Garner Ted.
And it goes like this.
Today chaos, tomorrow the world erupts into peace.
Today threat of human extinction.
Tomorrow utopia grips the Earth.
That's advance news from Garner Ted Armstrong.
"Letters to Rock Creek"
Behind the open house, a rabbit hutch
lies in the stream where the bear left it, finding
nothing inside but a smell.
Pack rat came in through the wall,
stayed, though all smells became his own.
10, February, 1967.
"Dearest ones, I'm thinking of you so much.
Didn't get to check Valentines.
Just got a box of small ones.
Anyway, to make this do, Pop picked it for Skip,
thus his is special."
In the letter, a newspaper photo of a large Black lady
with her coat and hat.
"I go out of my way to shop at Jewel.
And even though I don't have a big family at home anymore,
I still appreciate being able to save money on my groceries.
Mrs. Rose Jackson, West 115th Street, Chicago."
In pen on the picture, "Had to send this.
I ain't seen such a proud Mau Mau in ages.
Oh, ho, ho, ho, me, me.
Wonder if Jewel will ever take Lu Jr.'s picture?"
On the floor near an empty alfalfa
tablet bottle, mouse turds and a chewed shoe.
The library, money management, your clothing dollar,
Alexander Graham Bell, Reader's Digest First Aid Guide,
The Romantic Story of Man and Sheep,
and The Wonderful World Tomorrow,
by Herb and Garner Ted Armstrong and the Ambassador College
Press.
"Tuesday, I got sick.
Everyone was sure I was practically
on death's bed to miss bingo.
Even Pop was upset.
Yesterday, up most of the day.
And by today I'm still hoarse as hell but feel almost 100%.
That Helen made me a loaf of bread and coffee cake.
Mitzi Richardson's mom died.
She was so old and ill, but still hard
to take that she's really dead."
And a postcard, 30 miles up the dirt road from Clinton,
to Harry B. Darrell, Rock Creek.
"Dear sir and brother, the meeting of Carpenter Local
Number 28 will be called next Thursday
relating to the pension plan for all representatives.
Very respectfully, Richard P. Johnson, Secretary."
Very respectfully, Sparky's name, in crayon,
is over a dog-sized hole in a box
on the porch, painted golden rays spreading out above.
"The resurrected Noah will head a vast project
of the relocation of the races and nations,
within the boundaries God has set
for their own best good, happiness,
and richest blessings.
This will be a tremendous operation.
It will require great and vast organization,
reinforced with power to move whole nations and races.
This time, peoples and nations will
move where God has planned for them,
and no defiance will be tolerated."
What plan brought a Black man past the snow crest
in Mission ranges, short of the Bitterroots,
to Rock Creek in the Sapphire Mountains?
The Big Sky country is getting small.
"How is Buck's back?
Did he like this chiropractor?
Ironic how he too is a friend of the one Buck
went to in Illinois.
Such a small world really.
Jackie, so glad about that note deal.
Really, it is your property and simplifies matters for us both.
Helps your credit rating 100%.
This I like."
Oh, a long way from 115th Street to Lolo Peak.
Down in the Stockman's Barn Cafe,
they don't talk about civil rights.
Down in Rock Creek, a salmon fly disappears
with a trout tail and a swirl.
"You folks did get a lot of snow last week, didn't you?
I think of those roads so often and say a special prayer.
How are the scientific experiments on the heater?
One must figure a lot on this, combination
of woods, et cetera.
And so rewarding when one is successful."
Imagine Montana in the mountains, winter, trees, snow,
and a frozen owl near a board house with a heater.
Imagine the owl coming to life in the windy night.
Does it work?
If so, where does the bird go then?
Successful.
"Well, dear hearts, do believe this all the news.
Will let Pop mail this tomorrow.
Buck, your birthday gift is late,
but I want to put a few goodies in the package.
We will toast you and be with you in spirit.
Just wish it could be in person."
Outside, bitterroot flowers make their small blue movements
and a water ouzel sings in the creek.
Utopia is gripping the Earth.
A Chicago paper is tacked to the wall.
Sophomore Lew Alcindor dumps Illinois.
"Love, hugs, and kisses to you all, your Ma and Pa.
Jackie, write when you can.
And you all take good care of you all.
Us again."
"Us again" this time is white.
And whoever, inside by the refrigerator,
with its motor gone, like a man without his tongue,
it should say this.
A Black family is missing.
Find them.
And that silence is beyond speech.
The end of a letter in the quiet of an empty house.
[APPLAUSE]
Thank you.