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- From Liz Starnes...
- From Matt...
- From Jim Fisher...
- Laura Milner’s remarks and poetry for David's memo...
- Mary Marwitz's Remarks at David's memorial service
- Eric Nelson's Eulogy for David
- From Tom Kidder...
- From Amanda Gilbert...
- From Connie...
- Mr. Starnes had a passion for teaching that shined...
- From Amanda...
- From Kayvon...
- From Thomas Klein
- From Theresa Welford
- From Tina Whittle
- Laura Valeri said...
- What do you remember about David?
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May
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Of course
And David would have laughed at this fine print: Georgia Southern University is not responsible or liable for anything posted on this blog. It is maintained by people who miss him. If there are problems or suggestions with this blog, please email Sonya Huber in the Dept. of Writing & Linguistics at shuber (at) georgiasouthern.edu.
13 comments:
I am writing this literally minutes from finding out about the accident, so I'm not sure I can articulate just yet how shocking and tragic his loss is to me. David was one of the first friends I made in this department. He knew how to make me laugh and feel at ease. He was always very complimentary of my writing, but I always felt he was a true talent and that I had a lot to learn from him. I was always inpsired by his accomplishments, how much he did for the community, for his students, for poetry. The last few times I spoke to David he told me he wanted to go back to school for an MFA in poetry. I was so happy for him because I knew that his talent both as a teacher and a poet deserved more nurturing and recognition. I am so certain that he would have achieved more than we can imagine. He was a quiet person, but always there for us, for his students. He was a great human being. I will miss him dearly, and I know many others will too. David was just a gift to us. My sadness is beyond words.
I remember that David is a warm, friendly man with a wonderful voice and a big, hearty laugh. He finds such joy in words, books, poetry, friendship, people, nature, life. (I am simply not going to use past-tense verbs when I talk about him. It's too soon, and it's too final.)
He is utterly dedicated to teaching and to his students. I can't even count the number of times I've asked his former students about him and have gotten this reply: "Oh! Mr. Starnes! He's amazing!"
He is also one of the kindest men I've ever met, with a heart as big and deep as the ocean. After the slayings at Virginia Tech several weeks ago, David set up a memorial in the second-floor hallway of the Newton Building, complete with fresh flowers and selected poems. It was beautiful and touching, and it attests to David's compassion and tenderness.
And his crazy-gorgeous collage in honor of National Poetry Month this year! What fun he had assembling it. For a few weeks, it seems that every time I left my office, David was in the hallway, standing on a chair, adding more and more pictures of poets, backed by sheet after sheet of colorful paper. I think he stopped only because he ran out of wall-space.
Since David is such a lover of poetry, it is fitting to end with a few lines from W. H. Auden's poem "In Memory of W. B. Yeats": "What instruments we have agree / The day of his death was a dark cold day...."
I, too, am at a loss for words. So I will use David's, from his collection Original Skin:
From "Vanishing Acts"
Everything happens for no reason but
what we reduce it to, depending on
our losses at the deeper end and how
we face the vanishing of all we meant
to keep: from flesh and blood to love and more than love.
My students understand the seeds
of conflict necessary for a tale
that's worth telling,
worthy of their time.
What gets them, though, are tales that end without an end, with only loss, when loss is just the start.
I am shocked, stunned and very sad. I was on I-16 yesterday when this happened. I was driving to Savannah when I saw the police cruisers and the ambulance zipping by in the opposite lanes, and I took a detour to avoid the traffic jam when I came back to Statesboro. Little did I know that this was David Starnes that had the accident.
I loved David Starnes. He was gentle and kind and always seemed cool and relaxed. His voice was a pleasure to hear every time. He was a great jazz fan like me and we sometimes talked for hours about the music. He truly lived life in the key of blue (the musical notes, not the sadness). I will miss him so much.
I can hardly breathe through my tears and sorrow but to you Mr Starnes, I write this.
I love you. And so many times I asked god why you couldn't have been my dad. Such a great man, a respectable man, a gentle man. You are truley larger than life. From the first day I entered your Everyday Creative Writing class,I was soothed by your soft voice and encouraged by your greatness. I will hold the poetry you have signed for me, and the CD you gave me close to me and in my heart forever. I will miss you so dearly and i truley believe that anyone entering the writing department from here on out will be deprived. Deprived of an idol, a mentor, a Hercules of words, a man who's every word strummed the heart strings of even the coldest souls.
I came by your office everytime I was on campus, but missed our last appointment, and i will regret that for the rest of my existence.
You brought the writer out of me.
You unveiled a talent and a passion that lived deep inside me. Before meeting you, I was a Macho Man, terrified of revealing the soft hearted poet inside. But you showed me that the greatest of men are poets. You are forever my mentor, and forever my idol. I will miss you for as long as my hand does write.
God bless you Mr. Starnes.
I never had a class with David Starnes, nor did I spend much time with him, but the Writing & Linguistics Department is such a tight-knit group that any loss among us is felt strongly by everyone. I regret that I didn't know him better, as it was always apparent that he was one of those truly good people who inspired many. I am saddened by the loss of this writer, teacher and friend. May he live on in the memories of those who love him.
Mr. Starnes had a passion for teaching that shined through from his passion for his students. I learned so much not only through the things that he taught me, but the appreciation he let me have for myself. He supported me and showed me the beautiful things i was capable of. I honestly think some of the most important things i gleaned from college were from him: he gave me hope and direction and allowed me to believe in myself. As I've always known, I'll never forget him.
I would like to share a 'David moment' that exemplifies his great sensitivity and heart. I picked him up by the bookstore one day to give him a lift to the Newton building. He had three magnolia blossoms in his hands and gave me one. He said he picked them every year and passed them out to people because they were so perfect and fragile and short-lived. How like him to be observant and to also share with others.
I feel as stunned as all of us who knew him and the Twain aphorism that keeps running through my mind is "Let me so live my life, that when I die, even the undertaker shall mourn."What a great loss this is.
Amanda Gilbert said...
How do you express your grief for a man you knew so little about? even though i only knew little about dr. starnes i still love him. Kayvon and I would meet him before one his classes and drink coffee and kayvon would share his writings with him. Starnes would always make time to ask me about my life and my day which let me know how genuine of a person he was. I would always hear wonderful stories about him from kayvon and i always enjoyed hearing those stories.
I wanted to write on this thing since i heard of his tragic death on monday but i couldnt bring myself to. My thought are jumbled, im not exactly sure how i feel. All i know is i miss him, a lot. I havent stopped thinking about this man for days, as im sure a lot of people are in the same boat as i.
how do you deal with a death like this? its not fair and it makes me angry.
David Starnes was a sweet, thoughtful, and very handsome man. there arent enough adjectives in the world to describe him.
It goes without saying....
We will be missing you.
The last verse of the last poem in David's "Earth Days" I read as his good-bye to all who loved him. He writes about New Years Eve at our home in Vermont.
Tonight we posed before the hanging clock whose hands
already stalked the faint new year. We inched
them back for the sake of authenticity,
our glasses raised before the camera in a toast
to lives of borrowed time, time compromised, time held
apart from time. We drank to days on earth
reduced to this freestanding house, these rooms
we separated to, after goodnights, goodnights
as good as blessings, best as prayers into space.
I sleep on this as light begins to break
upon the arbitrary stars and planets.
For those of us who could not make it to David's funeral, I thank Mary Marwitz, Laura Milner, and Eric Nelson for their loving words. I thank Georgia Southern University and the Department of Writing and Linguistics for creating this forum. By reading these messages, I feel that I was there with you and that I got to know David even better. Some wise man once said you can count your really good friends on one hand. This may be true for most people, but not for David Starnes. It was my privilege to have edited his chapbook of poetry, "Original Skin," published here in Port Angeles, Washington. The final poem he chose for the book was this:
Climbing Mount Angeles Again
Thirty Years Later
With half the world squared off against
the other half, we summoned the old faith
that the earth remains quite round, a circus,
yes, always about to heave apart,
to burst into flames, but still a circle,
still at 360 sweet degrees.
We required a higher point of view.
First the gradual zigzag, and in those
initial steps of our ascent I left
behind the store I minded of desire.
I wished for nothing more to wish for
than my body still above ground, with my path
so plainly marked, how could my eyes have strayed
from all the turning, all the roundness at the top?
David has made his final climb. I cherish the words and poems he left behind and hope to hold a collection of his recent work to guide me on my own "zigzag ascent."
Uncle Davey once told me, "We are but a sum of contradictions.", so to sum up his memory would certainly be a fruitless effort. If I had only a few words to attempt to describe Davey I would use the following.
"Out beyond ideas of right doing and wrong doing, there is a field. I'll meet you there." Rumi - 13th Century Poet
In his presence there was an unspoken invitation to join him on this non-judgemental, level playing field.
His energy vibrated at a level slighty above most of us, but infecting us all. As a testament to this, since my arrival in Savannah it has been cloudy and rainy. I think it was the tears of sorrow from all who knew him sending our sadness into this world of possibilities. Today however, as the cars began to roll into the funeral home the sun came out and by the time the service began was in full bloom. Perhaps it was this collective grouping of folks whose lives he had touched that brought about a smiling sunny day. The power of positive energy? I think so.
When I was a child, he was James Dean to me. Quiet, mysterious and just across the line of delinquincy. As a teenager he became Clint Eastwood. Rugged and somewhat hardened by life, but hiding a heart of gold. As an adult Davey became Davey. Insightful, charismatic and sharing.
I'm grateful that my Wife and daughters were able to experience you. They all love you greatly. My daughters visit to Savannah with you brought back tales of the man known by all of Savannah. "Dad, everyone in Savannah knows Uncle Davey, even the guys sleeping on park benches!" The depth of their admiration became apparent when their talk of marrying daddy when they grew up was replaced with, "I hope I find a person as wonderful as Uncle Davey someday." I hope they can too.
I will, of course, miss your presence, but I shall not miss Davey. He is and has been alive in us all for sometime.
Love, Matt
Matthew David Rose (Lowell, MI)
I knew David through his jazz radio show in 1981. I had just moved to Savannah and discovered his program and became addicted to it. I looked forward to evenings just so I could listen to his selections and his voice. He asked one time for someone to translate the song title "Começar de Novo," which he said was Spanish. I called in and told him it was Portuguese and meant "begin anew," though a better translation might be "start over."
It seems from reading things about him that he started over a few times in very interesting ways and with enthusiasm for ideas and people.
I was thrilled to talk to him on the phone that time and to meet him once as a volunteer at the radio station. Charming and intense, in the best way.
I am so, so sorry to learn these 7 years later about his death. I have thought of him quite often and will always be glad I knew of him and met him once. He made a difference to me that he never knew about. How lovely to read these tributes. -Annie
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