Remember hearing her live with Brother Be Be in Detroit crusade. Morris Cerullo. They sang the following…crowd members were on their feet. Approximately 1986.
A fascinating National Geographic series. Very small village on Alaska Island without roads. Only about 95 residents who love the wilderness and the various assignments of mink trapping tree felling clam picking halibut hauling octopus grabbing deer shooting plank trimming garden land clearing northern lights gazing etc. They realize the fullest meaning and worth of community. For example one guy hauls in halibut at 110 pounds. Couple of good meals for 15 families, He says. Fascinating to watch successive episodes.
She got up at the folk talent night. knew her stuff, long and lean young pulsing poet in faded jeans baggy orange sweater chuck taylor sneakers. first piece traced spats with the glass bully-girl had sixty pounds more black eye bested. next poem was about remembering small northern lake starlit glories above all telling stories, personalities if you knew the science. accessed an Audoban album. peeper frog orchestra attending. fireflies twirling aloft. her audience transfixed hy sultry voice, confident somewhat hopeful and making for travels in heart and head… poetry doing what it can. you understand.
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