More about Steve Orlen

These pictures of poet Steve Orlen, who died one week ago today, come to us from Jerry Williams and Max McConkey   They were taken by Max.  This first picture is of a memorial service.  In sending it along, Max writes: There was a lovely, private, informal event for Steve in [his] backyard yesterday afternoon. Only "close friends" invited: but that turned out to be about 50 people. We ate samples of Steve's favorite foods (lots of bacon), drank wine, told Steve stories (many R or X rated), listened to Steve poems read by fellow poets, laughed, and cried. In the photo, below, which I took with my iPhone, the group was gathered to hear a reading of an Orlen poem by his close friend, Gibb Windahl.  

The two pictures below were taken on November 12, under the ramada in the backyard of Steve's house. In the first, Steve is surrounded by friends, from left, Buzz Poverman, Michael Collier, Fred Kiefer [English Prof @ UA, also a local FOS], and David Rivard.
Here's a picture of Steve alone. The picture came labelled "softy.jpg."  I didn't know Steve but the label seems to be packed with love and to say something about him that is most endearing.  I wish we had met. 

Max tells me that those who are Steve Orlen's facebook friends can find more pictures, tributes, and reminiscences on his page.  You can read Jerry Williams' post about Steve here.  Again, please feel free to share your thoughts in the comment field below. 

-- sdh

Comments

[Jerry]

Stacey and Max, thanks so much for your attention to this fine man. Steve was a guy who didn't hang out much in the poetry boardroom, but he was nevertheless a huge influence in so many other, more meaningful ways. Thanks again. I'm one of Steve's many former students who appreciate what you're doing here.

[Laura Hope-Gill]

I'm another of his students, at Warren Wilson, ten years ago. Steve was an incredible teacher--he had moved through so much within himself that he could hold space for whatever a student wanted to explore. He never judged, never criticized, but was so gentle and deep that when he told me I didn't have any music in my poems, it came not as a cut but as an invitation, like "hey, let's look at this and explore. That's what he was about: the explore.