Patrick Meadows and Stephanie Shepard Memorial Site
Here’s a letter from Fred to Pat and Mari. My guess is it’s from 1963 since it alludes to Greece and perhaps the Zambak. I haven’t retyped it…. hopefully the scanned pages are readable. Fred opens with “There are complications” and closes with “Men are sometimes masters of their fates — but on only the […]
Here’s a letter from Fred to Patrick from the early 1960s in New York, with a reference to Mari. I’m guessing this is early 1963 (I arbitrarily gave it a date of 3 March 1963) but I’ll need to research the timing of Patrick’s purchase (and subsequent near-demise) of the Zambak.
Here’s a letter from 10 December 1962 to Patrick about some of his stories. (I don’t know which ones.) I’m not sure who “dmy” is – can someone identify the sender for us?
Not sure of the exact date, but it was 1962 so I’ll set it to Oct 11th in a few days.
Patrick’s entry of 25 August 1962, in Wiesbaden, as found in pages 4 and 5 of his diary. Today we had lunch in a small café on Goethestrasse, our first wienerschnitzel and bratwurst. Afterwards we climbed winding streets and the steps cutting between the streets above the city. From there we finally got a good […]
Here are three pages from Patrick’s 1962 diary. I recently found that he’d typed it up, so the transcription is below the pictures. (Click on the images to enlarge them.) Diary (page 1)
The Black and Marmara seas breed gypsy soulsAmong the Turks. The brown and umber shoalsOf shade, beneath the parrot green or blueFeathered waves, shivering to spewOnto land with raucous breakers, flicker darkAnd light like wrinkled, laughing eyes. The bladesOf sun in slashing arcs like Dervish swordsGo mad in colors that the nomad hordesHad never dreamed […]
Here’s a poem from the early 1960’s (I believe).
Grandfather’s bred brotherWas a black leather Bible:Each day to heavenWas begun and endedBetween onion skin leaves. He boldly ledA life of SundaysOf rollicking sermonsAnd week-long revivals loudWith trombones and banjos:A leaping preacherWas his carnival:A joker who knocked them down,One to a ball. (Never a nightFewer than a hundredRolled down the aislesTo the altar.) But now […]
My love, I know that I have been a clown, And, bending with a rose in hand, no claim To formal loving should I have again; I know, who never knew before, the sound That rain makes kissing the dark before It tumbles to the earth and breaks in crowns, That you are painting beauty […]
(Memory is many long mirrors) Corridor mirrors reflecting doors Quietly opening and then Noiselessly closing, Letting wet hats and faces In from the rain. (Memory is everything Silently Forever Occurring in mirrors) Closet doors open; Closet mirrors twist a smile and face With a great arm telescoped to the knob. A […]
Here’s one of Patrick’s poems from An Anthology of Verse: FSU: 1954-1955 by George, Pat, Donna, David, and Regina.
Here’s a newspaper announcement about Patrick receiving a college scholarship. I’ll embed it as an image and also offer a link to the original PDF he sent me. Thanks to Lee for digging this up. Scholarship Announcement (PDF)