Archive for the ‘Thomas R. Turner’ Tag

Tom Turner, Shall Seventy-Seven Bells Sing Struck   4 comments

Tom-kenne_0333-b-w-blogTom and Kenne Turner (Tom would have been 77 today.)

Twits

POEM ON HIS BIRTHDAY

We are hairy men
who may be thought of a “Twits,”
but I dare say, are not.
Why might you ask?
If you  look closely, you will not see
tasty morsels in our beards,
while Twits upon close review
will have tiny little specks
of dried-up scrambled eggs.

So says Roald Dahl,
and he should know
of all the disgusting things
found in the beard of a twit,
but no need to hold your noses.

So, what is it these hairy men
are trying to hide?
Is it an ugly face, you ask?
No, not really,
for we are two guys
possessing good thoughts,
which shone out of our faces
like sunbeams,
so we will always look lovely.

Again, Roald Dahl should know:
‘If a person has ugly thoughts,
it begins to show on the face.
And when that person
has ugly thoughts every day,
every week, every year,
the face gets uglier and uglier
until it gets so ugly
you can hardly bear to look at it.’

Even so, on this sand grain day
in the bent bay’s grave
I celebrate and spurn
what would have been
brother Tom’s driftwood
seventy-seventh 
wind turned age,
shall seventy-seven bells sing struck.

— kenne

(Some lines in this poem are from Dylan Thomas’ poem, Poem On His Birthday. My brother loved quoting lines from Dylan Thomas’ poems.)

Thomas Robert Turner, Two Tears Out   3 comments

Lummi & MCLACThomas Robert Turner, May 23, 1942 – November 13, 2014
I love you, Bobby!

On this day as I have many days since his passing,
I read from the many notes, letters and emails
I now cherish as he seems to grow bigger than
life with each passing day, just like children sleeping
his being inside me can’t be dreamed away.
The many words 
he shared can be taken away,
but not the love that 
keeps growing in
the soul of my very being. 

He left for me many literary and philosophical
examples 
to live by, probably not knowing they
would continue to shape my very being as I
continue my journey in other people’s reality.
One was a quote by Paul Lafargue:

Healthy in body and mind, I end my life before pitiless old age
which has taken from me my pleasures and joys one after another;
and which has been stripping me of my physical and mental powers,
can paralyse my energy and break my will,
making me a burden to myself and to others.
For some years I had promised myself not to live beyond 70;
and I fixed the exact year for my departure from life.”


He was 72.

kenne

Posted November 13, 2016 by kenneturner in Information, Philosophizing, Quotes

Tagged with , , ,

Coach Turner   10 comments

Pub - Kenne & Ana (1 of 1) blogAna Claudia 

Last weekend, as I stood in front of those attending the celebration of life services for my brother Tom, I couldn’t help but notice the tears on the face of a dark-haired women among those attending. I had not yet met this beautiful women, so I had no idea who she was.

Knowing that some of Tom’s former students would be in attendance, I was not surprised when she came up to me after the service, with tears still in her eyes, and introduced herself — Ana Claudia, one of Tom’s former students. We embraced with the affection of dear friends seeing one another after years of being apart. For Ana, I was channeling Couch Turner, something that is second-nature for me since my brother and I are kindred spirits. We talked, drifting from the present to the past and back, her tears of joy still on her face. 

As we talked and hugged, Ana shared something she had posted on Facebook after the death of Coach Turner:

I don’t often share my feelings on here,
but today I have a good reason to do so.
I’ve often thought about how blessed I am
for having had tough but kind coaches
and mentors throughout my life.
I am grateful beyond words
that good-hearted people took time
to help keep a poor immigrant kid from the hood
on a path towards a positive life
that included the desire to give back or pay it forward.
I know most of you didn’t know him but in honor of him,
I want to say that among all of those good people
none made more of a difference
in my life than this good man — Coach Turner.
He passed away yesterday and now,
here I sit openly weeping still, smiling,
and remembering him not only as a coach,
but also as a mentor, a defender, a family friend, and even a father.
I’ll never forget you Coach Turner. Thank you from my heart.
— Ana Claudia

I have no doubt that her words are shared by so many of his former students. He was a special man who liked using the power of his vocabulary to impress those around him, but for Tom his ability to share his feeling was more powerful the words. Like all of us, he had his demons, but above all, “Bobby”, my little brother, knew the value of caring and sharing.

In the form of a elegy, I share the last two stanzas from Federico Garcia Lorca’s, “A Dream of Life”:

No one knows you. No one. But I sing you — 
sing your profile and your grace, for later on.
The signal ripeness of your mastery.
The way you sought death out, savored its taste.
The sadness just beneath your gay valor.

Not soon, if ever, will Andalusia see
so  towering a man, so venturesome.
I sing his elegance with words that moan
and remember a sad breeze in the olive groves.

— kenne

Coach Turner blogCoach Turner

Tom & Track Students (1 of 1 blog)Turner with some of his track students

 

Capturing The Moment — Scattering The Ashes Of Tom Turner   2 comments

Meydenbauer Beach Park_Panorama2 blogPanorama View of Meydenbauer Bay, Bellevue, WA 

(CLICK ON ANY OF THE FOLLOWING IMAGES TO VIEW SLIDESHOW FORMAT.)

This past Sunday, in a drizzling chilly rain, I was with my nieces Vanessa and Lisa scattering their dad’s ashes at Meydenbauer Beach Park where they often spent time with their dad. Joy and I first visited the park in the mid-eighties and with the passing of time the park has changed — then a more rustic park with a lot more trees and shrubs. Either way, it’s still a beautiful park on Meydenbauer Bay on Lake Washington. Among the stories the girls shared as we walked together in the park was of their dad running from their home in Bellevue to the park — running directly into the water, which sounds a lot like Tom.

Knowing that we would be with Vanessa and Lisa as they scattered their dad’s ashes, Joy and I traveled to Seattle with some of Grandma Agnes’s aches so they would be scattered together. Since we had an “In Loving Celebration of Thomas R. Turner” ceremony Saturday in the Main Hall at Camp Long in West Seattle, there was no formal scattering of ashes ceremony — just Vanessa and daughter Violet, Lisa, Joy and me. Vanessa’s husband Jon was home with son Henry, and Lisa’s husband Mike home with son Austin. The scattering of ashes at Meydenbauer Beach Park was the way Tom would have wanted it, intimate and personal.

This coming May 23 we will be remembering Tom’s birthday with the Dylan Thomas line he always sent to me on my birthday:

“…High Among Beaks and Palavers of Vultures
He Celebrates and Spurns His Driftwood
SEVENTY-THIRD Wind Turned Age…”

In your honor, Tom, we will keep searching for clarity . . . lucidity.

kenne

 

The following poem ended Saturday’s “In Loving Celebration of Thomas R. Turner” ceremony.

A Clear Midnight

by Walt Whitman

This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars.

(Go To kenneturner.com to see all the “Becoming is Superior to Being” Postings.)

. . . because we need the eggs   1 comment

Tom Turner 2013 (1 of 1)-2 B-W framed blogThomas R. Turner, May 23, 1942 – November 13, 2014

Today we are flying to Seattle to be with my brother’s daughters, Vanessa and Lisa and their families and friends to celebrate his life in words that communicate thoughts and feelings manifested in knowledge, experience and love.

My brother often shared and laughed about the closeness to home the following Woody Allen quote was for us:

“It reminds me of that old joke – you know,
a guy walks into a psychiatrist’s office and says, 
hey doc, my brother’s crazy! 
He thinks he’s a chicken.

Then the doc says,
why don’t you turn him in?

Then the guy says,
I would but I need the eggs.

I guess that’s how I feel about relationships.
They’re totally crazy, irrational, and absurd,
but we keep going through it because we need the eggs.” 

Saturday’s celebration of Tom’s (aka, Bobby) life will include a “sharing” program, because we need the eggs!

You may call me Tommy, you may call me Jimmy
You may call me Bobby, you may call me Zimmy
You may call me T.R, you may call me Ray
You may call me anything but no matter what you say.

You’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You’re gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody.

— minor changes to Bob Dylan’s “Gotta Serve Somebody”

Click to see a pdf file of “In Loving Celebration of Thomas R. Turner.” Tom’s Celebration

kenne

On The Waterfront — No Longer Seeing The Workings Of Time.   Leave a comment

Tom Turner On The Waterfront (1 of 1) blogThomas R. Turner, On The Waterfront (June 2, 2006) — Image by Mary Ann

Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time!
It’s abominable! When! When!
One day,
is that not enough for you,
one day he went dumb,
one day I went blind,
one day we’ll go deaf,
one day we were born,
one day we shall die,
the same day,
the same second,
is that not enough for you?

They give birth astride of a grave,
the light gleams an instant,
then it’s night once more.

– from Waiting for Godot, by Samuel Beckett

Father And Brother — Mercy Now   1 comment

Vanessa & Her Dad - Seattle (1 of 1 blog)

Lisa & Her Dad - Seattle (1 of 1) blogDedicated to Brother Tom (RIP) and Daughters, Vanessa and Lisa — Images by kenne

Marcy Now

My father could use a little mercy now
The fruits of his labor
Fall and rot slowly on the ground
His work is almost over
It won’t be long and he won’t be around
I love my father, and he could use some mercy now

My brother could use a little mercy now
He’s a stranger to freedom
He’s shackled to his fears and doubts
The pain that he lives in is
Almost more than living will allow
I love my bother, and he could use some mercy now

My church and my country could use a little mercy now
As they sink into a poisoned pit
That’s going to take forever to climb out
They carry the weight of the faithful
Who follow them down
I love my church and country, and they could use some mercy now

Every living thing could use a little mercy now
Only the hand of grace can end the race
Towards another mushroom cloud
People in power, well
They’ll do anything to keep their crown
I love life, and life itself could use some mercy now

Yeah, we all could use a little mercy now
I know we don’t deserve it
But we need it anyhow
We hang in the balance
Dangle ‘tween hell and hallowed ground
Every single one of us could use some mercy now
Every single one of us could use some mercy now
Every single one of us could use some mercy now

— Mary Gauthier

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