By Teri Blair
Parkway Marquee, Minneapolis, Minnesota, September 2007, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.
In 1989 the Academy-Award winning Cinema Paradiso was released. The Italian film takes place in a post-World War II Sicilian village, and chronicles the friendship of a young boy, Toto, and the town’s gruff but lovable movie projectionist, Alfredo. Toto is fascinated by everything at the theater — the celluloid film, the projector, and the lion’s roaring mouth on the wall through which images pass from film to screen. We watch Toto mature from mischievous child, to earnest young man, to successful filmmaker. But in-between scenes of first love and failing health and a changing Italian community, we see and know something else. We are witnessing the life of someone who is undeniably, unequivocally passionate about one thing — movies.
Nineteen eighty-nine was also the year I began attending a theater in south Minneapolis that showed art house films, the sort of movies that weren’t on every screen in town. I rather stumbled upon the Parkway. There was a foreign film playing there that I hadn’t seen, and the theater’s recording said there was free lighted parking a block away. When I arrived, I knew I was at a theater that was different from any other in town. But what I didn’t know was that the theater was owned by someone who is undeniably, unequivocally passionate about one thing — movies.
Bill Irvine’s livelihood in the theater business began, like Toto’s, as a youngster. At thirteen, he was already an avid movie enthusiast who saw at least one picture a week. One Thursday evening in spring, young Bill was walking by the Parkway Theater. The owner needed someone to change the marquee for the upcoming weekend movie. His regular marquee man hadn’t shown. Bill heard, “Hey kid! Do you want to make a buck?” He brought the ladder outside and put up the new film, Romeo and Juliet. He was paid a dollar, a Nut Goodie, and offered the same job the following Thursday. Before long he was working behind the candy counter, then selling tickets, and by the time he was a junior in high school, was managing the entire theater.
That was 40 years ago. Last summer, the 53-year-old fixture at 48th and Chicago ended his career at the Parkway and turned over his theater keys to Joe Senkyr, owner of next-door Pepitos restaurant.
I caught up with Bill a few weeks ago. I wanted to hear his story. After all, who stays at a job for 40 years, let alone at one location? There is a boyish openness about Bill, a casual baseball hat, a ready smile. He was ready to talk, and as willing to divulge the hazards of his chosen profession as the rewards.
Bill never had a grand scheme to become an actor or a filmmaker himself. After high school he attended St. Thomas and Brown Institute to study Journalism and Broadcast Journalism. But at the young age of 20, he decided to make an offer on the up-for-sale Parkway. He knew the business inside and out, having already been an employee for seven years, and had no trouble getting several banks to offer him a loan to buy the place.
But instead of selling the theater to this neighborhood kid, then-owner Mel Lebewitz sold it to Jim Sparks, a man from Omaha who specialized in porn theaters across the country…a move that mystifies Bill to this day. The community was outraged and months of demonstrations and picketing ensued. After six months of hassles, Sparks was ready to unload the Parkway, and Bill (still 20), bought it for $140,000 with his business partner Pat Nikoloff. Papers were signed in March of 1976, and six days later Bill opened with a double feature, The Pink Panther, and Bill Cosby’s Let’s Do it Again.
Bill was quickly enfolded into the Twin City theater-owner community. It was a Jewish-dominated industry, and with a name like Irvine, Bill let himself pass for Jewish…even though his heritage is Scottish and English. “No one asked me, so I never told,” Bill laughs.
Bill’s outgoing personality lent itself to the business. He grew to know the stories of his customers’ lives, and they became his friends. He saw their children grow up, celebrated job promotions, and grieved a lost parent. And along with the relationships, he created a theater known for its documentaries, foreign films, and thought-provoking dramas.
“I have loved what I have done, and I am happy,” Bill mused. “If you don’t love your job, you start to hate life and become bitter and mean. If I were talking to a 25-year-old, I would tell them to set their sights high doing something they love, stick with it, and be good at it.”
The movie industry changed during the 40 years that Bill owned the Parkway. When he began, there were several one-screen theaters in town. They are now the rare exception, having given way to 10-and 20-plex theaters. “When I started in the business, actors were well-trained in their craft. Now, theaters are desperate to fill screens. The integrity of films has suffered, and most movies have no shelf life. If someone has an attractive face, they slap them up on the screen and call them an actor.”
But in the midst of this, Bill maintained a caliber of quality movies that brought his faithful customer base back week after week. He spent hours combing through sample DVDs to find good selections. “I think most people would be surprised by how time-consuming this job is,” he says. “It takes so much time to find a good movie.”
Bill has his own personal favorites, of course: the documentary Brother’s Keeper, Waiting for Guffman, and Shawshank Redemption. The actors who top his list are Meryl Streep, Cate Blanchett, Woody Allen, and Michael Caine. The longest-running movie in Parkway’s history was Shirley Valentine, the story of a woman who flees her stale life in England to begin again in Greece. It stayed at the Parkway for 38 weeks.
What is next for Bill? “Well, I’d like to travel. I want to see New Zealand and Australia. I may open up another theater in St. Cloud or St. Paul; I’ve had a job offer from Columbia Film Society in South Carolina. But I haven’t really decided.”
Blueprint, Minneapolis, Minnesota, September 2007, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.
And how about the Parkway? New owner Senkyr has already begun major renovations: a newly exposed balcony railing, rich colors and murals, seats torn out to make room for a larger stage for live theater. Weekly changes are quickly making the old Parkway harder to remember as the new one is born.
And what about us, those of us who look first at what is playing at the Parkway when we open up the movie section? We likely won’t find another movie theater where the owner calls us by name when we walk through the door, where we can ask for a glass of water and not be charged for it, and where our business is so clearly appreciated.
I have never minded that there were some lumpy seats and peeling paint on the ceiling. Because the Parkway has maintained something that is hard to come by these days — a sense of belonging and community. In a big city we have had a place that has felt a little like a small town. A place where we could enjoy the talent of someone who knew his business and the quality of films never diminished. A place where the popcorn was always fresh and the movies ever enchanting.
We have been lucky. We have gotten to be a part of a Bill’s 40-year love affair. A love affair with the movies.
Parkway Lights, inside the Parkway Theater, Minneapolis, Minnesota, September 2007, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.
Teri Blair is a freelance writer living in Minneapolis. She is currently writing a profile series on teachers who taught in one-room rural schools before, during, and after WW II. They are appearing monthly in Senior Perspective.
About profiling, Teri says: I stumbled onto profiling quite by accident. I owned a dairy barn that had been a dance hall during the Depression, and I wanted to meet people who had danced there. When I heard their stories, it was obvious they had to be recorded. One thing quickly led to another, and before long I had a series of essays on my hands that people wanted to read.
I typically go into an interview with 10 questions, one tape recorder, and two cameras. I’ve learned through many fits and starts how to adapt questions, change directions, and let the real story emerge. I’ve had two tape recorders break during interviews, several rolls of film come back blurry, and been in situations where I was so nervous I could barely keep from passing out. I’ve also had the time of my life…adventures worth their weight in gold.
Profiling gives me the chance to shine lights on people who deserve attention for adding something of value to our world. That is my greatest reward.
Favorite profile experience to date: After interviewing a 14-year-old musher, he took me on an invigorating dogsled ride through ditches, woods, and down snow-covered gravel roads. I learned that a 14-year-old boy has only one speed he is interested in: FAST.
About the photography: All the photographs were taken on September 20th, 2007 by QuoinMonkey during an Ani DiFranco poetry reading at the Parkway Theater in Minneapolis. She would later find out, the timing occurred shortly after Bill Irvine transferred ownership of the Parkway Theater. The seeds for a collaboration between Teri’s profile and the Parkway photographs were planted in a Comment thread on The Brave One. The result is this chance meeting between language and the visual.
Like a fresh sheet of paper…let me be the first to comment on this wonderful story. The photos are gorgeous, such deep colors, details and feeling. Just last month here in Albuquerque a fire broke out and destroyed the Golden West saloon, next door to the El Rey Theatre, which was damaged but salvaged by the many volunteers who came in to clean the soot and smoke off the seats, walls and floors. The El Rey was one of the first downtown movie theatres– as a letter in the Albq Journal reported, it was the home of World War II matinees and newsreels from his childhood in the 1940s. Those days are gone, but the buildings that housed such memories and are still standing, old-fashioned architecture,aging and uniquely beautiful, are what makes a community out of a western strip town in the desert. Will our children remember the 24-screen theatres on the freeway with any fondness?
LikeLike
chickenlil,
The rush of volunteers who came to the El Rey theater to clean is heartening, isn’t it? I believe there are more people than we realize who want to save and restore the old and classic. When I had an open house at my dance hall dairy barn two years ago, I assumed there would only be seniors who had danced there who would show an interest. Not so. There were many, many young people. Sometimes people just need to be shown a way.
LikeLike
Such a rich history here, Teri. What I love about the profiles (and this whole approach) is that your subjects are people who are extremely passionate about something and dedicated their lives to that thing. Bill Irvine and movies and the Parkway. The 14-year-old musher, who I bet will stick with it and become one of those people who we look at when he’s old and wonder how he became such an expert about mushing.
What is amazing to me is that Bill might continue in this industry after 40 years and in spite of all the changes (for the worse) to the movie industry. This says a lot about the draw of movies and theaters still. And about the strength of his passion.
Really interesting story.
LikeLike
Yes, ybonesy, Bill’s passion is/was inspiring. When he told me his advice to a 25-year-old would be to “set their sights doing something they love, stick with it, and be good at it” it really made me sit up in my chair. Part of my process in moving toward what I love has been to clear away years of accumulated clutter–and I don’t mean old boxes filled with clothes from 10th grade. I mean the clutter of bad habits, worn-out jobs, dead relationships, and all the various things I do mindlessly that serve no one, least of all myself.
LikeLike
chckenlil, there have been a couple of theaters here that people have raised money for and managed to salvage. The Ritz in Northeast comes to mind. It was a disaster a few years ago. And now has been renovated and they have plays there all the time.
I just love the old architecture of these buildings. And how every detail of the inside of them mattered when they built them. That is a richness we are losing with our cookie-cutter buildings today.
I was telling Teri how much I love the photo of the goddess (well, that’s what I call her) on the walls inside the Parkway. And I wonder what her history and symbolism are. Where did she come from?
History is worth preserving. There is so much richness there.
Teri, you know what struck me about this piece was how young Bill was when he bought the theater. I mean, he just knew it was what he wanted to do. And he put his butt on the line (including a hefty chunk of money) for his vision.
He also had to fit into the already existing tight-knit community of theater owners. And figure out how to network and grow. That’s inspiring. Telling these stories through profiles seems like a rich form of writing.
What has surprised you most about profiling? What kind of time commitment is it. And what have you learned about history and/or people through doing that work?
LikeLike
I spoke with Bill Irvine this morning about this piece being posted. If he joins the conversation at some point today, I can guarantee you he will know the history of the goddess/Egyptian princess.
Profiling is extremely physically taxing. I fall into a deep sleep after interviews (if I can get to a bed). This has been a shock. I thought I must be doing something wrong to have this reaction until I took two classes at the Loft from long-time profilers. These instructors have interviewed the really big names: movie stars, the Dalai Lama, and presidents. They have interviewed thousands of people, and they both said they are completely exhausted afterwards, too.
I allow two hours for an interview, but try to get them done in an hour. It is often obvious that people need to first talk about other things than the topic at hand. It doesn’t work to rush people along too much. You have to be willing to listen. Listen deeply. Then I transcribe the interview (another 1-2 hours), and finally I write the piece. This can take hours or days or weeks. Just depends. Oh, then I have to try to get someone to buy it. Months and months on that one.
Most people are very open. I try hard to create a safe environment, and I start with the easy questions first. You might say I lower them safely into the boiling water. haha
LikeLike
Teri, that’s great about speaking to Bill Irvine. I’d love to hear about what he is doing now and how his transition has been. It can sometimes be difficult to move from one dream or vision to the next. Think of all the knowledge and history he carries.
I believe you about how exhausting it might be to do the work of profiling. The preparation, travel, then meeting with complete strangers. You never know how it’s going to go. And the transcribing – totally time-consuming. It sounds like your experiences have been mostly positive ones.
I like knowing there are so many different kinds of writing (and writers) out there. We just have to be open to opportunities that present themselves. And be willing to take the risks involved.
LikeLike
I’m guessing the majority of writers by nature are introverts–who else would be drawn to the solitary hours required to write? This probably adds to the exhaustion factor. Perhaps extroverts conducting interviews leave with boatloads of energy, no nap required.
Since I began profiling, however, I look on the Barbara Walters and Diane Sawyers of the world with entirely new appreciation.
LikeLike
I have read many of Teri’s profiles. All I can say is that it is freshing to read something that highlights the positive in a everyday life. You can’t help but smile when you think of a 14-year-old who loves dogsledding or a 90 year-old who can remember all kinds of hilarious happenings in a one-room schoolhouse. Thanks Teri!
LikeLike
Laurie,
Thanks for checking in! You’ve brought up something that I think about a lot; does anyone want to hear the stories of the quiet hero? The story of the schoolteacher who walked to school in a dark snowstorm to start a fire so her six students would have a warm place to learn? Or the country doctor who stayed until midnight with a family whose mother was dying? How about the nurse who stands in a trauma unit holding the hand of someone in a coma?
We get such an abundance of bad news everyday that one begins to think that’s all that is vogue. But like QuoinMonkey said in a recent post, the lives of people like those in the movie Sweetland or Fried Green Tomatoes touch us deeply. They inspire us to how we want to live in this world.
LikeLike
Although the Parkway was not too convenient for us, we loved the theater, and your story, Teri, only makes the fondest sweeter. Thanks for giving us all the inside scoop. You have reminded me that the story behind the action is usually the most interesting part. Good story, great job of telling it!
LikeLike
Teri, I love those pieces where I find out things about people and places that I didn’t know. And, I didn’t know about profiling…other than the kind law enforcement uses. What a great piece! Are there others available to read? Have you thought about doing a course on profiling for those of us who love to hear other people’s stories? I would sign up for it.
LikeLike
Rita,
If you go to the “New Parkway,” I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised. When I went, the new owner got up before the movie started and told us what was happening with the historic renovations. At the end he said something like, “Tell us what you think because this is your theater.” It’s in a lively little part of town with good restaurants and great window shopping. Thanks for reading and commenting.
LikeLike
Bob,
It has never occurred to me to teach a class on profiling! I like the idea of sharing what I have learned, however. I didn’t take any official profiling classes until I had been interviewing for about a year…it was on-the-job training, let me tell you. The most basic things like *bring extra batteries* don’t occur to you until the first time your film won’t advance. It only takes once to learn such lessons. The behavior of most people being profiled falls within a predictable range. Once in a while I’ve had a wringer, though. The one who yells, the one who shakes their finger at me while their face turns angry red. People who have gotten a lot of attention during their lifetime for being highly intelligent are a dangerous lot. I’ve had to self-talk my way through some interviews…”Hang in here, Teri. Keep going. It’s almost over. You can go to the Dairy Queen after this.”
Happily, most people meet me at the door with a smile and I give them a hug when I leave. And I bring them with me to the Dairy Queen.
LikeLike
Listening is an exhausting process. Many people hear without really listening. Listening involves staying in tune, processing, feeling, responding..all of which require physical energy. Hearing merely involves not opening your own mouth at the same time someone else’s is open. it is a lot less demanding. It is a lot less rewarding as well. So Teri, thanks for sharing what you listened to as it allows each of us to gather our own thoughts and memories.
Theatres are great places. They have a sense of magic and wonder about them. When i was a poor college student (the first time around) i worked weekends and some evenings at a theatre. It was an old theatre complete with pipe organ and carbon arc projectors. we dished popcorn, showed the movie, cleaned up afterwards, and between the matinee and the evening show we helped the manager restore the pipe organ, in exchange for food. it was part of how we earned our keep. the photo of the carbon arc machine brings back the smells and sounds clicking of the film sprockets, hissing of the carbons, grease, dirt, the big silver screen, and darkened silence like it was yesterday. it was a fun part of my life, carefree, independent, with no responsibilities. Our theatre didn’t make much money, but that was sort of the point as it was owned by someone who wanted the organ and the theatre kind of came with it. My favorite part was showing silent movies, the old ones like keystone cops with the organ playing alongside.
Today’s movieplexes do not offer the same mystique. Carbons have been replaced by xenon bulbs, and most people can wait to watch on dvd what used to be a social shared experience. The old theatres have taken on new roles such as community theatre and bluegrass/country musical acts while the movies have moved on to mall based screens.
LikeLike
reccos62,
I’ve had a romantic notion of what it would be like to work at one of the old, one-screen theaters in town. During different points in my life I’ve considered abandoning my “adult” responsibilities and working exactly in the sort of place you described. It sounds perfect; a terrific setting for a novel. When I travel, I try to patronize the one-screen theaters in small towns. I am never disappointed.
I’m also taken with the theater owner you describe, buying the place so he could get his hands on the organ. How did the story end with the renovation of the instrument?
Your comparison of listening vs. hearing is perfect. You’ve articulated exactly why it is exhausting.
LikeLike
i was at the theatre in the early to mid 1980s and it was owned by the madisons at the time. we were actually his tax write off (which i find extremely funny). The organist who played our silent movies is still there, first link below. the second link is the website/history page. the third is the wikipedia on the mp moller company, no longer in business, but it was the maker of the pipe organ. I had the opportunity to tour it once and see all the third generation employees who still hand made each item.
I am glad the theatre is revitalized, but it isn’t quite the same when i go back there. It doesn’t hold the same magic that i felt when i worked there. And while some may find that sad, i think the magic is that i felt it to begin with.
http://www.theatreorgans.com/pa/chambersburg/
http://www.thecapitoltheatre.org/about/history.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M._P._Moller
LikeLike
reccos62, I enjoyed reading your past connection to the Capitol Theater in Chambersburg . I went to your links and read the history. Makes me want to visit there when I’m in Pennsylvania again.
I loved how you described the carbon arc lights and smells: the photo of the carbon arc machine brings back the smells and sounds clicking of the film sprockets, hissing of the carbons, grease, dirt, the big silver screen, and darkened silence. And how you connected those memories to a time in your life when you were carefree and innocent. That’s the power of memory.
I thought of your comment again yesterday when I walked into a church here and they had a brochure that explained the history of their pipe organ. I knew next to nothing about them, but had read your comment, so picked up the brochure. Pipe organs are kind of fascinating. And complex.
There was an amazing pipe organ in St. James Methodist in downtown Augusta when Mom and Daddy and I went there last June, too. I snapped a few photos when I was there, but wish I had taken more. It’s one of the oldest in that state.
I read at your link that the Capitol Theater’s was a 14 rank Moller Opus 4800 and was installed in 1926 . And that Moller was Danish and designed in that tradition. The brochure I grabbed mentioned that the Danish were famous for their principles of balance and symmetry, but the church organ in their church was made by Visser-Rowland. Since it is in a huge church, it’s massive with 114 ranks and 6294 pipes. I imagine the St. James one is close to that scale, too.
What struck me most in the brochure was why they used to use pipe organs in churches and theaters – because the organ’s sound becomes part of the atmosphere of the building and covers a pitch range that the whole human body (not just the ears) experiences. The organ was sort of like our surround sound speakers today, reverberating through our bodies. I thought that was kind of cool.
It seems like the pipe organist at your theater, Bob Eyer, Jr., would be a great person to profile. Maybe Teri will fly out there. Think of everything he has seen over the history of the theater!
I agree with you – the magic is in that you even noticed – that you felt the magic in being there during the time you worked there. Thanks for sharing your story.
LikeLike
reccos62,
Oh, this is a much bigger deal than I imagined. Good for the family and city for rallying behind saving such a treasure. I need to always be reminded to patronize such establishments. Like we’ve said on redRavine many times before (in reference to independent book stores), if we don’t spend our money at them, they can’t stay open.
Yes, QM, I’d love to buzz out to Pennsylvania and do an interview…if only I hadn’t just used up all my frequent flyer miles!
A few years ago, a church choir director I know told me she was sending her daughters (both very musical) to organ lessons. At the time, these two girls were probably 10 & 12. She told me if they learned how to play an organ, they would never want for work. It had never occurred to me that playing the organ is a rare (dying?) skill. When I was growing up, half my class was in piano lessons, but only about one person/grade was studying the organ. And interestingly, they were always boys.
LikeLike
Rich, interesting comments on this post.
Teri, I am one of those people who loves reading about the “quiet hero.” For some reason this morning, I was thinking about a story I once heard of a self-made millionaire, kind of the “millionaire next door,” who quietly amassed his millions and then ended up donating all of it, just as quietly as he gained it. I don’t know why I was thinking about that story — maybe it was in contrast to the ostentatious living I saw in Beverly Hills last week. I don’t remember who he was, what his name was, but the heart of the story stuck with me.
But on the topic of whether there is an audience for these types of profiles, I’m curious as to what you’re finding in terms of the market. Are there magazines that are interested? Or other venues? I’d like to know more about this.
LikeLike
ybonesy, great example. I remember that story, too. I like stories of the quiet hero – because that is most of us. Not all of us are going to be rich, famous, get 15 minutes of fame. So much is resting on the way we live our lives each day.
Teri, I’d also like to ask how it’s going out there on the road this week. You left today for 6 days on the road to do some profiling. And it’s blizzarding in Minnestoa, too. I’m thinking about you out there, writing away. Have you found a nice place to stay?
LikeLike
Yesterday when I packed my rollerblades in my car I had a very different idea of how this day was going to be. Today was going to be my leisurely drive north before a flurry of interviews. It was, instead, a nasty white-knuckle flight through blowing snow. However, I did make my scheduled stop at the Charles Lindbergh State Park. Though I didn’t have the proper footwear, I walked the path by the Mississippi pretending I was Mary Oliver. She wouldn’t be grumbling about ice and slush, she’d be thinking good thoughts about birds and wind. I give myself about a C- on the “mimicking Mary Oliver” scale.
On the road I keep a self-care list ever-handy so I remember what to do. I can turn into a wreck overnight (and have many times). They are simple things like: drink 2 large bottles of water daily, walk for at least 10 minutes, take vitamins, etc. I have seven things on my list. It really helps. And tonight, since it is so nasty outside, I’m going to take a bath and read for hours in my clean hotel room. Autobiography of a Face.
I’m glad redRavine is here to connect with. It is grounding to check in.
LikeLike
Teri, good for you for sticking to your self-care list when on the road writing. I remember I was exhausted last year when we went Down South. Stayed up late every night, writing, digesting, taking notes, checking in here. It’s important to do things that help us stay grounded.
It’s still snowing here, heavy and wet. It’s beautiful but I woudn’t want to be out driving in it. I have a feeling it will melt in a few days. You know what’s odd? The light right now. It’s about 7:30 and the light is like Spring – but there is snow falling all around like it might in December. So strange.
Thinking about you out on your road trip. I’m watching a show on Channel 2 about habitat in Cuba. And working on a blog piece. The snow keeps falling.
LikeLike
Terri — Honestly, I can’t believe that I didn’t read this post before now. I loved reading it. Your energy positively radiates off the page (or screen, in this case.)
I also love reading the stories of quiet heroes. I wonder, would you ever consider profiling Iraq War veterans? It would take a lot of courage, I think, to be able to listen to the details. The war is so unpopular now that veterans, legitimate heroes, are not often invited to tell their stories. This happened with Viet Nam veterans, too. Stories began to be told later…after years of suffering in silence.
You are very, very good at this type of writing. Let Mary Oliver be Mary Oliver. You are quite outstanding on your own.
LikeLike
breathepeace,
Thank-you so much for your vote of confidence. Seriously. I’m in a small town in the middle of nowhere tonight (just heard the ten-o’clock whistle), and wondering what I am doing out here profiling. So I’m glad you didn’t read it until now. Your timing is spot-on.
I would love to profile Iraq War veterans. I hear very, very little from them anywhere. Maybe once every five or six months I’ll hear a clip of one speaking for or against some policy. I think people would want to hear their stories, their experiences, their sense of Iraq. Do you think they want to talk, or just want it to go away…move on and think about other things?
LikeLike
Yes, I do think Iraq War veterans would talk, particularly if you are not asking for an opinion and are just collecting the stories of their experience, without a motive to prove your own point as many documentaries have.
There have been writing projects already where the stories of veterans and their families have been collected, in their own words. But, surely there are more. Why wait until they are very old, as we have with many WWII vets, to collect their stories? Also, to me, it shows compassion that we want to listen to whatever they have to say.
At a weekend retreat with Pema Chodron last summer on “Practicing Peace in times of War” several Viet Nam Veterans reached out to me because I’d identified myself as a mother with a son at war. They told me many stories. Some said that they didn’t talk about the war at all for a long time, even with family, because they didn’t believe that anyone would understand what happened there. We as a nation were not kind to veterans after that war. I hope that we do not make the same mistake.
Based on my talks with Viet Nam vets, I can tell you that I believe Iraq War vets are ready to move on, but also, that it doesn’t ever just “go away.”
LikeLike
Teri, I thought of you this morning when I had to shovel my driveway in order to get the car out. Hope all is well out profiling on the road!
Also, I think breathepeace is on to something with the profiling of Iraq War veterans. A few days ago, I read a print piece in the Minnesota Women’s Press called Coming Home – Female Vets Face Unique Challenges. The article talked about how invisible female vets are and profiled one woman who had served in the military for 12 years and had been assaulted, touched, grabbed, and propositioned dozens of times.
I wasn’t as shocked by her story as I might have been if I hadn’t heard the same thing from a therapist here who works for the VA. Women vets have a unique set of problems and issues to deal with, including harassment by fellow soldiers and superiors, and you just never hear about them. Many suffer from PTSD and can’t find the support they need. After I read the Women’s Press article, I immediately wondered what I could do to help out women veterans.
I don’t think female vets are even on people’s radar when they think of the Iraq War. Minnesota alone has 22,945 female veterans according to the MN Dept of Veterans Affairs. Of that number, 8,705 have served in the Persian Gulf, either the first Gulf war in 1999, or in Iraq. (And those numbers are just for Minnesota.)
There are two organizations – Women Veterans of America and Veterans for Peace that might be helpful. I was grateful to read the article. And to know that a brave woman had come forward to tell her story, in order to make it easier for other veterans to tell theirs.
The woman said the mission is to win the war by all means necessary, including violence. That also means violence against women. The Dept. of Defense said that assaults are up 73% from 2004 to 2006.
I’ll save the article for you. I was moved by it, even though I don’t personally know any women who are serving. Maybe there are other writers who might want to do this kind of profiling, too. I think it takes a certain kind of person (and writer) to tackle the issue head on. And like breathepeace mentions, a writer with a lot of courage.
LikeLike
breathepeace & QuoinMonkey,
I appreciate and agree with everything you’re saying. I don’t feel very quick on my feet today (when it comes to great written responses), but I’m over here nodding and thinking. I can imagine a vet thinking, “Where would I even start to begin telling you about this? What’s your angle? Can you be trusted?” And, at the same time, wanting and wishing to be heard. There are so many things in this life that I am unskilled to do, but one thing I can easily do is listen and absorb. If you think of anything else to add to your great comments, I’m all ears.
This morning when I got up, I did Sit, Walk, Write in my tiny hotel room. I sang the song Beth taught us in the zendo, though I could only remember the line: “…heaven knows where we are going…” I sang that line over and over. I could see the wooden boards beneath my feet, Taos mountain in the distance, and sense that I wasn’t completely alone.
The woman I interviewed this morning probably changed my life. Though she didn’t give me one word I can turn into an essay, she reached into some dark place in me and pointed out where the light switch is.
LikeLike
“The woman I interviewed this morning probably changed my life. Though she didn’t give me one word I can turn into an essay, she reached into some dark place in me and pointed out where the light switch is.”
Teri, if the above is true, you probably need ALL the words to the song:
We are going
Heaven knows where we are going
But we know within
And we will get there
Heaven knows how we will get there
But we know we will
It will be hard we know
And the road will be muddy and rough
But we’ll get there
Heaven know when we will get there
But we know we will
We know we will
Just sing it and relax…with Heaven knowing where, how and when, there is not too much for you to think about. Enjoy the ride, even if it is muddy and rough.
LikeLike
breathepeace, it is comforting to see these words again. I can hear your strong, clear voice, and everyone joining together in the zendo. Thank you for posting them.
Teri, thinking of you tonight, out in rural Minnesota, profiling, gathering, composting, writing your heart out. You are out there doing it – living the writer’s life. I wish it were easier. I don’t think any of us ever knew how hard it would be. But we’ll get there. We know we will.
LikeLike
Oh, yeah! I’m glad to have the words from the zendo song! I hadn’t checked my email this morning before I did Sit, Walk, Write, so was still only singing the one line I could remember. Thanks, breathepeace!
You’re right, QM. I had no idea how this was really going to be. I wouldn’t trade it for a minute, but it isn’t the romantic, dreamy life I used to envision. Besides the constant mental chatter poised to kill, there’s the practical stuff. Like dragging a heavy laptop and suitcase in one hotel and out of another. Like feeling lonely, but not having any interest in making new “friends” at the diner or gas station. Like the stillness in the car that demands looking honestly at a life. Like not seeing any (any!) payoff in sight. Like dealing with people’s misconceptions that I must be making lots of money and really living the easy life on easy street.
Without community, I am convinced this would be impossible.
LikeLike
Your life sounds appealing to me right now, Teri, mainly because I have so little alone time. The thought of being on the road, in a hotel where no one knows me, able to write/sit/walk whenever I want, go catch a movie by myself, read, etc., all sounds heavenly.
Of course, I know it’s not really like that.
BTW, I see an essay in all this thread of commenting. Something having to do with choosing a particular path in writing and then talking about the life it entails. I think people are hungry for knowing how other writers live.
LikeLike
Today I had a scheduled break from interviews for exploring. It was sunny and warm; the first day I could go without a coat.
I went to Montevideo and saw spots where Sweet Land was filmed–the train depot, Olaf’s barn, Zion church. I stopped at the Lac Qui Parle County Museum and spoke at length with a historian who was on the set of the movie. I drove over to Madison and found poet Robert Bly’s farm. I sat in the driveway and just looked at it, remembering all the poets who have migrated there. I sat on the blue bridge over the Lac Qui Parle River; the one Bly writes about. I wandered into South Dakota (just because I could) and went into an abandoned schoolhouse. It was a day to get filled up. It helps so much to go where other writers have been, though I have no idea why.
LikeLike
ybonesy,
I’m glad you can see an essay in this, because I can’t. I can (mainly) just see the schedule. Tomorrow: up at dawn to interview a woman who is 100. Then over two counties to interview a family about a christening gown. Moving. Moving.
LikeLike
Teri,
I think your profiling is important work. It sounds as though it connects everyone in ways we probably don’t know. I have come to believe that when we go deep we reach a place where we can see that everything and everyone is connected. That’s the place from which to write. I see it in your work…not just the profiles but other pieces that you have written.
I hope you are safe and sound in a lovely room somewhere with a good heating system.
LikeLike
….a place where we can see that everything and everyone is connected…
Bob,
I think you’re right, and that people desire this deeply. Tired of divisions and us vs. them. Does this come easily to you, or do you have to work at it consciously and daily?
I just spoke with Lillian the centenarian. It was, possibly, the best interview I’ve had been a part of. I think I’m always walking away with a little gold nugget from the people I meet, but she stopped me in my tracks. She talked about the Depression and WW II a lot, about the country joining together and everyone tightening their belts. I’ve heard these sorts of stories more times than I can count, but today it hit me differently. Perhaps I’m a little slow on the uptake, but it occurred to me while she spoke that I feel no affects of our country being at war. None. I’m in a coffee shop right now, sitting near the cash register. Everyone orders several things, big frothy drinks and pastries, and walks out to their new car and drives the few blocks back to their workplace. I’m not pointing fingers. I’ve had two glasses of iced tea, a cup of soup, toast, and have put hundreds of miles on my car in the last five days.
I suppose we’re simply plunging ourselves further and further into debt as a country–that, instead of each sacrificing a bit for the whole. Oh, I know at this point that any suggestion of a group effort for a war no one wants would be met with protests and rioting. But I crave something different for us as a people. This morning I hope our next presidents asks what Kennedy asked. What we can do for our country. I find I’m very weary today of the consumption and greed and wastefulness.
LikeLike
Teri — Regarding your statement: “I find I’m very weary today of the consumption and greed and wastefulness.” I agree with you and so would MLK, Jr., if he were still alive.
Forty-one years ago, to the day, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered a speech at Riverside Church in New York City, titled, “Beyond Vietnam: A Time to Break the Silence.” His friend, John Lewis, believes it was King’s finest speech.
This was the first time King spoke out in public, opposing the war and he was criticized from all sides for doing so. Many people counselled him to stick only to the issue of Civil Rights. King says in this speech that winning the Nobel Peace Prize was also a commission — “a commission to work harder than I had ever worked before for the ‘brotherhood of man.'”
It is chilling how relevant his speech is to this day and this war. Read it today, if you have time. Here is one taste:
“I am convinced that if we are to get on the right side of the world revolution, we as a nation must undergo a radical revolution of values. We must rapidly begin to shift from a “thing-oriented” society to a “person-oriented” society. When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered.”
“Giant triplets,” indeed … our nation has fed them continuously for 41 years. Terri, your work is important. You are helping us to hear the other voices that point to these same truths. You will help us to face and hopefully conquer the “giant triplets.” Keep up the good work.
LikeLike
And to breathepeace. I say “Amen”. Wonderful comment & tribute to MLK, Jr.. Well said! D
LikeLike
Great thread of thoughtful comments here. What a treat. Teri, it seems like this profiling post came at just the right time — right before you went out on the road for 6 days to profile. Your journey sounds incredible. I hope we get to hear more after you get back and have time to process everything.
I had meant to come back and comment about how wonderful it sounds to have visited where Sweet Land was filmed near Montevideo (Comment #33). I bet it was so peaceful there. I can’t wait to hear more stories. Or maybe a piece that you write from this trip.
You are out talking to everyman – everywoman – in rural towns across the Midwest. Salt of the earth people. I admire you for taking this on. It’s inspirational.
LikeLike
I’ve wound around to familiar country, now spending a few days with family in the county where I was raised. My mind is full from this trip; it turned out quite differently than expected. In Steinbeck’s Travels With Charley he talks about a trip taking us, not us taking the trip. Very true.
breathepeace-I had never heard this MLK speech. Thank you for posting it. I have nothing brilliant to add or say, only that each word resonates with me and I’m glad to have read it.
QuoinMonkey-When I was on the blue bridge in Lac Qui Parle County, I looked up–just like you tend to do when you photograph. I took a picture of the top of the bridge against the blue sky. I am full from being in the country; I’m full of stories, full of people, full of life.
Before I left on this trip I looked forward to being recalibrated mentally on the road. It has happened. So grateful.
Immensely appreciative for the grounding redRavine offers a writer on wheels.
LikeLike
Teri, I’ve been thinking about you this week, since your return to Minneapolis from rural Minnesota. It seems good to be so full. And yet, I bet you are tired and need to rest. Whenever I make great effort toward my writing – somewhere out on the road, whether Georgia, Pennsylvania, Taos, northern Minnesota, I’m always so surprised how tired I am when I get home.
Even after those silent retreats – I needed time to step back into my regular life. Part of that is being an introvert in an extrovert world. And part is simply the effort it takes to put yourself out there creatively. I like the Steinbeck reference.
I’m glad you found support here on red Ravine while you were away. I found the same thing when I travelled last year and readers offered their support. It makes a huge difference.
And I’m so happy you looked up on the blue bridge in Lac Qui Parle County and snapped a photograph! Every direction – up, down, north, south, east, west. Structure holding us up – on all sides.
LikeLike
Yes, yes, to everything you have said. When you go to Georgia again, I suspect the structure and “home-base” of redRavine will be a support to you, too.
I now sit with so much writing to do. It is a gift, I know, to have direction. I know what to write, I know who is waiting for it, I know how much time I have. Yet why does it make me want to cry? I’ve been thinking all morning of errands I *must* run–I must get more Jergens lotion at Target, I simply have to get more red onions for the casserole I will make next weekend, and shouldn’t I top off my gas tank?
One good thing I learned this last week is that I can survive on the road (doing writing) and not come home a total train wreck. It takes constant effort and thoughtfulness, but it doesn’t scare me as much. My writing mentor wants me to do several week-long sweeps for a project I’m working on, and I’ve been crumpling inside thinking about doing that. I have more courage now.
LikeLike
Teri, courage…that reminds me of something. I recently read a conversation with Maya Angelou — she said courage is the most important of all the spiritual principles. Because without it, it’s hard to stay true to our other principles.
When you think about it, courage comes from the willingness to step up, to risk the chance that we might fail. And maybe being tossed aside, but then getting back up again to keep going.
I’m having a Monkey Mind day, too. The washer is repaired and now I simply *must* get all those back loads of laundry done. Wait…maybe I should go along with you to Target for more Jergens instead. 8)
LikeLike
[…] A 40-Year Love Affair by Teri Blair […]
LikeLike
[…] an active and valued member of the red Ravine community. Her other posts include A 40-Year Love Affair, about Bill Irvine’s passion for the Parkway, a landmark theater in Minneapolis that closed […]
LikeLike
Hi Teri,
Any chance you could put me in touch with Bill. I was one of his website volunteers and have since moved to San Diego. I stopped in at the parkway theatre and the new people had no contact info for him. Thanks a million.
LikeLike
Jennifer, answering for red Ravine, since this is our policy, we don’t give out contact information on individuals. We don’t happen to have anything for Bill, but even if we did, we couldn’t provide it. But thanks for stopping by and glad to you know that you worked with him and the Parkway. An amazing place.
LikeLike
Something Bill said to me really lodged itself in my mind…when he first owned the Parkway actors were well-trained in their craft. Now, if you’re a famous singer or athlete, they slap you on the screen and call you an actor.
I went to see Macbeth at the Guthrie Theater last night, and spent today reading the bios of the acting company. Without exception, the actors were all well-trained. Many had not only a B.A. in acting, but an MFA as well. Man, it feels good to support people who have committed themselves to their work.
LikeLike
Very cool, Teri. What prompted you to go see this show? (My daughter, btw, is in Drama. They’re studying Shakespeare.)
LikeLike
I like to go to the Guthrie at least twice a year. I got a flyer for 50% off the Wednesday performance of Macbeth this week, and snatched up the chance.
It seems really wonderful for your daughter to have the chance to study Shakespeare–a base for so much more. If I’m ever going to see a Shakespeare play, I always read the summary of the story online before I go. Otherwise, I get lost in the dialogue. I can’t think fast enough to translate the lines into the sort of English I know.
LikeLike
Teri, I really like that you mentioned studying up on the actors and the play before viewing. I had not thought of it before I started going to the Guthrie plays with Liz and her mom each summer. Liz and her mother always print all the info available at the Guthrie website before we go to the play. It helps so much with comprehension and viewing. And gives a great appreciation for the actors and their craft.
LikeLike
I knew you could do it!! You have always Impressed!!
LikeLike
Hi Terry,
Thanks for stopping by and reading my work!
LikeLike