Echoes of a Poet's Voice--My Memory of Tom Spencer

When Tom Spencer died on June 30, 2015, IWC lost a dedicated member. More importantly, Northwest Indiana lost a great poet, mentor, and patron and a strong advocate for the written arts. But why do we bring it up now? It has come to our attention that there is a current campaign to extend his legacy, and readers of this blog might want to know about it.

Tom’s family have donated the proceeds from his last book to build a gazebo at Freedom Park in Lowell, Indiana, where he was a leading citizen. They are looking for donations to complete the funding and have established a GoGetFunding account at https://gogetfunding.com/spencer-poetry-pavilion/. That avenue for donations will be open through February 15 or 18, depending on where you look for the information. That doesn’t mean you can’t donate after that date, but the donation path will change.

To be clear: This is not a solicitation. We are merely notifying you of the opportunity, and whether you donate has no effect on IWC. But this is a good time to remind all of our readers about Tom’s contribution to the writing community, and we do so by reprinting a blog post written by Helena Qi and originally posted on October 17, 2015. Here it is.

__________

Echoes of a Poet’s Voice—My Memory of Tom Spencer

By

Helena Qi

he last time Tom and I met, we were surrounded by coffee grinder uproars, conversations, and laughter inside the Grindhouse Café. It was May 2, 2015 and members of Highland Writers’ Group gathered for our biweekly meeting. Tom Spencer sat to my immediate right. His oxygen tube indicated that all was not well with him, but his sharp mind and high spirits told me otherwise.  

After my turn to read, Tom made encouraging comments about my manuscript. Then he leaned toward me.

“Why haven’t you signed up for the poetry class?” Tom asked quietly against a cacophony of background noises.  

“I’d like to, but my schedule is too full right now,” I heard myself muttering feebly. I’d learned a few weeks earlier that Tom was offering free poetry lectures. Upon consideration, I had decided against adding more to my plate.

“But writing poems will help you build your vocabulary,” Tom said persuasively. 

  ~                      ~                      ~

For the next few days, Tom’s words kept ringing on my head. On May 11, the morning of the first class, I sent Tom an email saying that I had found my son a ride to and from his orchestra concert that evening and asking if it was too late to register. When no response came by midafternoon, I mustered my courage and dialed Tom’s phone number. Doris, Tom’s companion, answered and told me that Tom was ill. But yes, I was welcome to go to the class that evening.

I attended the class. Toward the end, each of us got to speak with Tom on a cell phone. To me, Tom’s mind was as astute as I’d ever known, his voice strong and enthusiastic. There wasn’t even a thread of doubt in my mind that he’d soon recover.

 ~                      ~                      ~

The next day I received Tom’s email (below).

---------------------------------

On May 12, 2015, at 3:11 PM, tom spencer <tspencer1943@comcast.net> wrote:

Forgive my lack of response Helena, This is the first I could get to my e-mail since Sunday. I am pleased that you attended and hope that you were pleased also. Let me know if you have any questions on last evening's presentation. You have good writing skills and I would be happy to help you expand them. What instrument does your son play? Your family will always come first in my book of rules so there is never a need to apologize for your devotion to them.

Sincerely, Tom

----------------------------------

Tom’s message filled my heart with warmth and energy. I wanted to thank him and tell him what I thought about the class. Yet I was too busy spinning around my hectic activities to write my reply until June 2, when I was 31,000 feet above the Pacific Ocean on my way to Shanghai. 

On my return flight from China on July 1, I let my thoughts roam in pleasant anticipation. One of the events I longed for was to attend the July poetry class. I was sure I’d see Tom and have a chance to express my gratitude.

Nothing prepared me for the shocking news that Tom Spencer had left the world just two days before I came back home.

~                      ~                      ~

The last time I saw Tom was at Sheets Funeral Home in Lowell on Sunday, July 5, 2015. Gazing at the tranquil face of the 71-year old poet, I felt a few poetry lines bubbling out of my blurred memory.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “The Arrow and the Song” resonated with my emotions.

I shot an arrow into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For, so swiftly it flew, the sight

Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,

It fell to earth, I know not where,

For who has sight so keen and strong,

That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak

I found the arrow, still unbroke;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of a friend.

I could not remember exactly when and where our first meeting took place. But each time I saw Tom was at a writing-related event. And on nearly every occasion we had a private conversation. Tom would prompt me to do more, such as attending a workshop or a poetry reading, so that I could learn to write proficiently in English, which is not my mother tongue. 

Emily Dickinson’s lines then came rushing to me as my thoughts roved along memory lane.

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.

I was a mere acquaintance of Tom, or else I’d have known about his serious ailments, as all of his friends did. To me, Tom the man and poet made a difference for the better. In my eyes, therefore, his life was definitely not in vain but of great value.

When I looked at Tom for the last time, Henry David Thoreau’s words rang in my ears.

My life has been the poem I would have writ,

But I could not both live and utter it.

I thought that Tom Spencer, now lying peacefully in a coffin surrounded by visitors and flower baskets, ought to be proud of his life as a poetic masterpiece, for its echoes have reached far and deep.

__________

Helena Qi lives in Munster, Indiana. She is a member of IWC, has attended Highland Writers’ Group meetings since 2011, and aspires to become a skilled writer.

Echoes of a Poet's Voice--My Memory of Tom Spencer

by

Helena Qi

 

The last time Tom and I met, we were surrounded by coffee grinder uproars, conversations, and laughter inside the Grindhouse Café. It was May 2, 2015 and members of Highland Writers’ Group gathered for our biweekly meeting. Tom Spencer sat to my immediate right. His oxygen tube indicated that all was not well with him, but his sharp mind and high spirits told me otherwise.  

 

After my turn to read, Tom made encouraging comments about my manuscript. Then he leaned toward me.

 

“Why haven’t you signed up for the poetry class?” Tom asked quietly against a cacophony of background noises.  

 

“I’d like to, but my schedule is too full right now,” I heard myself muttering feebly. I’d learned a few weeks earlier that Tom was offering free poetry lectures. Upon consideration, I had decided against adding more to my plate.

 

“But writing poems will help you build your vocabulary,” Tom said persuasively. 

 

~   ~   ~ 

For the next few days, Tom’s words kept ringing on my head. On May 11, the morning of the first class, I sent Tom an email saying that I had found my son a ride to and from his orchestra concert that evening and asking if it was too late to register. When no response came by midafternoon, I mustered my courage and dialed Tom’s phone number. Doris, Tom’s companion, answered and told me that Tom was ill. But yes, I was welcome to go to the class that evening.

 

I attended the class. Toward the end, each of us got to speak with Tom on a cell phone. To me, Tom’s mind was as astute as I’d ever known, his voice strong and enthusiastic. There wasn’t even a thread of doubt in my mind that he’d soon recover.

 

~   ~   ~ 

The next day I received Tom’s email (below).

--------------------------------------

On May 12, 2015, at 3:11 PM, tom spencer <tspencer1943@comcast.net> wrote:

 

Forgive my lack of response Helena, This is the first I could get to my e-mail since Sunday. I am pleased that you attended and hope that you were pleased also. Let me know if you have any questions on last evening's presentation. You have good writing skills and I would be happy to help you expand them. What instrument does your son play? Your family will always come first in my book of rules so there is never a need to apologize for your devotion to them.

Sincerely, Tom

------------------------------------

 

Tom’s message filled my heart with warmth and energy. I wanted to thank him and tell him what I thought about the class. Yet I was too busy spinning around my hectic activities to write my reply until June 2, when I was 31,000 feet above the Pacific Ocean on my way to Shanghai. 

 

On my return flight from China on July 1, I let my thoughts roam in pleasant anticipation. One of the events I longed for was to attend the July poetry class. I was sure I’d see Tom and have a chance to express my gratitude.

 

Nothing prepared me for the shocking news that Tom Spencer had left the world just two days before I came back home.

 

~   ~   ~

The last time I saw Tom was at Sheets Funeral Home in Lowell on Sunday, July 5, 2015. Gazing at the tranquil face of the 71-year old poet, I felt a few poetry lines bubbling out of my blurred memory.

 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “The Arrow and the Song” resonated with my emotions.

 

I shot an arrow into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For, so swiftly it flew, the sight

Could not follow it in its flight.

 

I breathed a song into the air,

It fell to earth, I know not where,

For who has sight so keen and strong,

That it can follow the flight of song?

 

Long, long afterward, in an oak

I found the arrow, still unbroke;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of a friend.

 

I could not remember exactly when and where our first meeting took place. But each time I saw Tom was at a writing-related event. And on nearly every occasion we had a private conversation. Tom would prompt me to do more, such as attending a workshop or a poetry reading, so that I could learn to write proficiently in English, which is not my mother tongue. 

 

Emily Dickinson’s lines then came rushing to me as my thoughts roved along memory lane.

 

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.

 

I was a mere acquaintance of Tom, or else I’d have known about his serious ailments, as all of his friends did. To me, Tom the man and poet made a difference for the better. In my eyes, therefore, his life was definitely not in vain but of great value.

 

When I looked at Tom for the last time, Henry David Thoreau’s words rang in my ears.

 

My life has been the poem I would have writ,

But I could not both live and utter it.

 

I thought that Tom Spencer, now lying peacefully in a coffin surrounded by visitors and flower baskets, ought to be proud of his life as a poetic masterpiece, for its echoes have reached far and deep.

 

__________

 

Helena Qi lives in Munster, Indiana. She has attended Highland Writers’ Group meetings since 2011 and aspires to become a skilled writer.

 



Supporting Poetry in Northwest Indiana

                        NWIPS

 

North West Indiana Poetry Society

presents poetry in most all varieties

from sonneteers to sestina stanzas

some are sung like Mario Lonza’s

 

We meet in Lowell on Saturday three

in a meeting room, Lowell Library

amateur or pro, the poems are good to know

with bumps in some, fast or slow, though most do flow

 

In the morning, ten a.m. bright and shining

each poet reads a poem their taste inclining

a critique if wanted say yes or no

suggest a word, out of place or doesn’t go

 

Poetry in rhythmic beats or rhyme replete

Socialize, meet and greet is a real treat 

                                                                     © 2015 by Tom Spencer

 

The Lowell Public Library is located at 1505 West Commercial Avenue in Lowell, Indiana. Tom Spencer has provided the following additional information for anyone who wants to read at a meeting:

 

An original poem or one from a favored poet is welcome. We ask that the poem be no longer than two pages to give time for all to read. A portion of an epic poem may be read, however no more than two pages at a single session.  To be fair to all, compose in Times New Roman size twelve font. We try to end each session at 11:30 a.m.



An Interview with Tom Spencer

by

Jackie Huppenthal

 



 

This year, IWC’s Power of Poetry Project instituted a special award to be given when a student writes a poem that is an exemplar of the highest quality poetry. The picture above shows Tom Spencer with fourth grader Gloria Radford, the first winner of the Tom Spencer Award.
 
Tom Spencer is a published poet and writer who has been writing for over 50 years. He is the founder of the Northwest Indiana Poetry Society and belongs to several other writing groups. Tom is also active in the Indiana State Federation of State Poetry Societies.
 
When did you start writing poetry?
 
It was in the 8^th grade. I got glasses and was finally able to read and catch up on what I had been missing. My teacher, Alice Peterson, introduced me to poetry. I read it excessively and started writing poetry immediately. Not too long ago I talked to an older woman who came to listen to my poetry and we talked about Alice. It turns out she was my elementary school principal.
 
Do you have a favorite poet? / poem?
 
My favorite poem is “The Raven” by Edgar Allen Poe. He composed the last stanza then worked backwards to write the story. I memorized it in its entirety back then and even named my daughter Lenore after the “radiant maiden” in the poem.
 
What topics do you write about?
 
I write about ecology to world affairs, love and romance, but I prefer to write about social responsibility. I wrote poems to my wife even before she was my wife.
 
What is your favorite poetic form?
 
I enjoy all forms of poetry but my favorite is the sonnet. It is the basic core. It has a beginning, middle, end, and a twist.
 
How many books have you published?
 
I have published two books. The first was Word Castles, a collection of poetry published in 2000 by Writers’ Village University. It was reprinted in 2007. The second was America on Fire, which was coauthored with Dr. Jaswinder Singh. It is “a Poetic Tribute to the Memories of September 11, 2001.” Both of us did intensive writing for over a month to get the book published by the end of the year.
 
How many groups do you belong to?
 
I currently belong to about eight writing groups including Indiana Writers’ Consortium and Write-On Hoosiers.
 
What advice do you have for kids who are interested in writing poetry?
 
Ninety-nine percent of writing is reading. Read often, write what you feel. I write every day. The poems I write come from short stories. The short stories are written more for me but the poems are for everyone.
 
How do you feel about having a children’s poetry award in your honor?
 
It is an overwhelming honor. I had no idea I was this well respected. I was nominated for Indiana Poet Laureate a decade ago and had 76 letters of support from around the world. This, however, is a bigger honor to me.
 
What other accomplishment are you most proud of?
 
I brought the National Federation of State Poetry Societies national convention to Merrillville, Indiana in 2012. It was a wonderful experience.
 
Tom, you have been an inspiration to me and many others. I keep a quote from you propped up in front of my computer and look at it daily:
 

“A poem captures the rhythms of life in words.” Tom Spencer

 

It certainly does. Thanks for sharing your time and talent! Now, let’s take a selfie.

Tom Spencer's first Selfie
with Jackie Huppenthal