Happy Birthday, Shirley Jackson

It's the birthday of Shirley Jackson, (books by this author) born in San Francisco (1919). Her short story "The Lottery" made her famous when it came out in The New Yorker in 1948. It's a story about a small New England town where one resident is chosen by lottery each year to be stoned to death. She wrote the story in two hours.

Elizabeth loved Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle.

Merry Christmas

Dear readers of this blog, and contributors, and friends.

It has been a difficult couple of months leading up to December 2, thinking of Elizabeth still not in the world to enjoy the world and the people she loved. And now that the holidays are here I am trying to think of a way to bring Christmas back to Elizabeth and my memories of her.

Why not spread the news of the book funds? The book funds were established to buy books for libraries where children as inquisitive and passionate about reading could find all sorts of titles to enjoy.

Here are the names and addresses of the funds. Giving a little something to the fund is like giving a Christmas present to Elizabeth.


Tusten Cochecton Library
Narrowsburg, NY 12764


CBA Library
6245 Randall Rd.
Syracuse, NY 13214

Photographs taken by Elizabeth

This is one of my favorite pictures of Elizabeth's. I feel as if she is waving goodbye but lingering. Her presence is there in the disembodied arm. She knows we are looking for her through the darkened window as we glimpse what once was, and the wreath of leaves that continue to grow.

Voting

Elizabeth's name is still on the voting registration rolls even though after she received a request for jury duty I sent in her death certificate.

I wish she could have lived to see this day. I am so happy for all the young people her age whose first presidential election was so historic and full of a feeling of liberation.

Looking for you in the Historic Preservation District

I wrote this when Elizabeth was sixteen.

I went looking for you after you exploded and left the house--
I started at the park where we would go when you were four--
The roses and their stray petals we’d bring home and put in a bowl--
the grass, all fenced off now--
-- in the gazebo, a Jewish wedding,-- in the heat,
people were holding up the canopy, everybody wore a yarmulke.

You weren’t in the gazebo of course, or lingering around the sand pit
now moved and painted blue.
A boy, wet from running in the sprinkler,
pulled at his shorts .
Of course you wouldn’t be here.
You had already finished revisiting this place,
and printing a photo essay of children playing,
capturing the pure attachments that form in an instant:
not knowing each other one minute,
then voila friendship!

You weren’t running on the loading platforms,
now stripped of their overhangs.
“The neighborhood’s gotten so fancy!” you noticed eight years ago
when you were eight and skipped up and down the steps of each platform, now all gone, none of that any more, just oversize housing for the rich and their children.
The weather promised rain but the heat just keeps steeping and the steam just keeps soaking us with sweat. If it were raining you wouldn’t ask me if we could
jump in the puddle on Harrison where the biggest pothole in New York City
used to make a splash basin. You are not there.

I walk down West Broadway and see the sign
--Paste Paper and Push for your business—
old and faded but not gone, a remnant of an age gone by.

Where are you my darling? My beautiful one?

Please come home and forgive me.



http://flickr.com/photos/indieink/573388546/

Salamanders, Nick and Lizzie

Since they were wee ones Nick always had an admiration for Lizzie. As they grew into young adults that admiration grew stronger. Nick is now a student at New Paltz and recently changed his minor to Photo.......this change as he stated to me was in honor of Elizabeth! I am so proud of what he has accomplished in his life, however most proud of his relationship with his special cousin and angel. She was his NYC girl that definitely taught him the ins and outs of actually living in the big city.

Well, Lizzie, here is a picture of you and Nick when you were around 8 or so. It is in our back yard in the suburbs of Syracuse (guess you could call this "country"). You both look a little "gooberish" and I can't help but smile when I see this photo that he was very proud to share his little bit of country with you as you turned each rock looking for the creepy salamanders.

Love mama and aunt Mary!

Looking in the window, Ackerman Road

Photograph by Elizabeth

The Sadness of Sullivan County

Palisades Parkway
in early summer. Second
summer without her.

Back then we counted
tag sales (once there were fifteen),
as we won’t again.

The cat circles us,
bumps his head into ours,
then turns. We’re not her.

Where are the kisses
she lavished on him as if
he were human?

She was pure light,
shining her life on others.
How can she be gone?

At midnight the moon
shone through the window. I sense
it is her spirit.

from Nicholas Alciati

9/4/08



I went back into the darkroom today. This is my second photography class since you’ve been gone. Although it’s still so hard sometimes, when I’m in the darkroom I feel comfort. The kind of comfort I felt when we played video games together in my warm basement after sledding down the treacherous hills of Syracuse. You were always Princess Peach. The darkroom gives me time to reflect upon our time together, and I feel your presence with every gentle wave of chemical over my photo paper. When you were gone, my mom brought back a pack of your paper; every print from that pack was perfect, much like you. You were a great mentor to me. You taught me to be myself and to love life. I still hear your laugh in every picture taken with my camera. I can still see your reflection in the chemicals used to develop my prints. I find myself going to the darkroom more, just to be with you. Your passion is now mine, and I love you for it.

I Used to Think

I used to think when people died their images would fade,
their color pictures change to black and white then grey,
their spirits hover like the light at nightfall.
After his fatal heart attack, I felt Walter tethered
to the earth, revolving like a moon in orbit
or were we revolving around him
who felt alone out there?
But when you died I saw nothing.
The sun eclipsed, the moon
went dark, and an absence grew
so vast a continent appeared where I now live.

SUMMER 99

Check out this video: SUMMER 99
The link above takes you to myspace where you watch the movie without the myspace tag in the lower right corner

I threw away some clothes

Socks, bikini bottoms,
the t shirt with the pig's face,
the button down polo shirt,
and dear Emma took away some dresses
but I held on to three gauzy girly blouses.
Emma said, "She was such a scavenger."

Her black sneakers sit in the top drawer of her dresser,
because when she comes back as Didion says
she will be able to find them

Memorial bench at St. Luke's Church Garden on Hudson Street

The bench is nearest the Hudson St. south garden, in the sun. Elizabeth liked to sit in the sun, so we chose the sunniest spot there. The plaque reads "In memory of Elizabeth G. Aakre."

How do you get there?
The Church of Saint Luke in the Fields is located at 487 Hudson Street, in Greenwich Village, New York City, at the intersection of Hudson Street and Grove Street. Directions are here at this link.

Garden Hours
NOTE – the closing times may vary due to Church and/or School functions.

Hudson Street North Garden Gate
(Main gate – 487 Hudson Street)
Monday- Saturday 7am-8pm; Sunday 7am-7pm.

Rector’s Garden Gate
Monday–Thursday 10am-5;30pm.

Barrow Street gate to South Garden
Daily 8am-8pm (dusk during the winter).

Hudson Street Gate to South Garden
Monday-Saturday 10am-8pm (dusk during the winter)
Sunday 11am-6:30pm

Photo by Helen Levitt, New York City circa 1940

I love this photo, and think she would have too. (Would she have said "Genius!"?)
I saw it in the New Yorker today. Lawrence Miller Gallery is having
a show of both Levitt's and Bresson's photographs. The NPR link
has an interview with Levitt who is still alive at 95 and
now photographs mostly farm animals.


NPR Interview with Helen Levitt

How She Played Badminton

She was fast,
she was strong,
she was canny, but mostly she had
the stamina to outlast you no matter how fast
you thought you could run
She could run faster
Her legs went on for miles
For every step that she took
you would have to take twenty
She was limber
and she could stretch down to the ground
and then up to the sky in a matter of seconds
How she dominated the court,
the net held up with two fallen branches from the maples out front
In her prime she did not rely on a net game
faking you out. She revelled in the chase, the running game,
and it was fun to indulge this passion
and challenge yourself to see how much you could run before she would outdo you.
Sending the birdie back to the same place
over and over again
(left corner was her weakness)
On long volleys I would send it there
and she would return to me
bang
Her wrist relaxed snapping the racket til it shot
the feathers across

The neighbor who took the game so seriously
called her devil child


She was invincible

from Nicholas Alciati, Elizabeth's cousin

Photograph of Nick Alciati after production of Footloose, 2005






I started off middle school not sure where I was heading in life. Although I was playing football and running track, I felt as though something was missing in my life. I had always been active in the arts but had shut off the creative side of my brain during this time. Fortunately a golden haired, beautiful girl changed that for me.


I remember floating down the river in our tubes and just talking about everything from her blossoming interest in photography to how stupid she thought the band the Postal Service was. She was one of the only people in my life who I could be fully open with, unafraid of judgment. Elizabeth had an aura to her unlike anyone I have ever met in my 19 years of existence. Everytime I was around her I felt complete happiness and did not hold anything back. If it were not for her I am almost certain that I would not be heading down the path I am. I am now a second year art education major and have decided to concentrate in photography in Elizabeth’s honor. Although she is no longer with us, I still feel her presence every time I snap a picture.

It’s still hard to live life without Lizzy. She was my city mouse and I, her country mouse. I would go to the city and be amazed at the culture and action and she would come to Syracuse and be amazed at the cheap prices. She loved to go to target and the local art supply store just to buy some cheap lotion and pens. Our times playing videogames were also memorable. Although I had never really like playing them, when Elizabeth came to my house we could get lost in Mario Party. Patty never liked that being a librarian and all, but Lizzy packed in the reading as well.

She was a brilliant girl and an inspiration to all she knew. It’s been a hard year and a half, but we all must celebrate her life. If it were not for her I can completely say that I would not be the person I am today. I’m not afraid to break away from societal conformity because of my beautiful Elizabeth. I love you Elizabeth and think of you everyday. You are my angel, and the reason that I keep living my life carefree and creatively.

She loved The Cosby Show

This episode always made her laugh.
It was the pilot for the show in 1983.

Letters from Lizzy

These letters were written to Liza and Bill Bennett, and the annotations are by Liza Bennett. Thank you, Liza, for sharing them.

The Art of the Thank-You Note

Lizzy was her mother's daughter when it came to writing funny, charming, and always slightly unexpected thank-you letters. I went through my little cache recently and found four that I particularly admire. Here they are in roughly chronological order, as best I can discern from her developing penmanship which began largish and loopy with an elaborate signature to arrive at a very poised and ladylike hand.


Written on a little card illustrated by Alice Beard of two girls reading a book with a fairy watching them from behind

"Dear Liza,
Thank you for all of your gifts! Especially... well all of them!!!
Love Lizzy

She then illustrated the gifts in question with little pen drawings and captions:
"fortune teller fish"..."blue porcelain bowl"... "nail art"..."dragonfly bracelet"

Written in pencil, dated 7/26/01, on stationary with cats chasing each other around the edges:

"Dear Liza and Bill,
Thank you so much for the fabric additions to my collection. They're so beautiful!! You're both wonderful badminton players! (a very kind lie) Bill, are you still unbelieving @ your win? Liza, you will definitely beat me next time, but 'til then, keep dreaming!
Much love, Lizzy
p.s. Mom and Dad and the kitties send their best regards

Written on a card illustrated with a woodcut of green leaves, undated

"Dear Liza and Bill,
Thank you so much for my wonderful birthday presents. Now all of the items which have been scattered around my room are put properly in place and organized. In fact, it is strangely frightening how disorganized I was before. I hardly recognize my room! Thanks for curing me of my disease.
Love, Elizabeth Aakre"

Written on a note card I'd given her decorated with a gold leaf, dated 6/28/06

"Dear Liza and Bill,
Thank you for the best dinner of the year! (We'd taken her out to celebrate her graduation from Packer) What a wonderful night — the soup, the waiter, the breadsticks! My ravioli were perfection, and — as a ricotta fan — I could not have been happier. I am sure to be the best read and dressed lady in Northampton next year. Thanks to you both. I will read up on Yeats and Keats and recite for you next time I see you — in July! Tell Molly happy birthday for me,
Love Elizabeth"



cat stationery of Elizabeth's

Other People's Photographs

from Peter Cohen's collection


There is a documentary being shown at Jefferson Market Library Monday, May 12, about snapshots people collect from flea markets, etc. -- something Elizabeth used to do. She had a number of these which she found and kept. Click on the title ("Other People's Photographs") to see more about the movie and the pictures.

The nestling fell

The nestling fell from the tree near the back porch just about dawn.
My cat who visits me in my lap
and looks at me with sweetness and dependence and gratitude
burrowing his snout into my hand as I pet him,
that creature snapped up the nestling and carried
him in his mouth proudly, his tail swaying like
a victorious pennant.

After much subterfuge
we got him to open his mouth
and the nestling fell out.
Of course it could never be the same.
His mother in a proper outrage
screamed a full five minutes
a single harsh note over and over again

I love life
just not my life
that goes on without her

The days begin today for instance
with perfect clarity
the sky blue, the water tower
across the street puncturing the blue
with its pointed tip.
But she is still gone
and tonight my last thought before
turning out the light will be
still gone.

River Reporter publishes article

Local Narrowsburg, NY newspaper the River Reporter printed an article about the book fund a group of us (summer house share folks) established to honor Elizabeth's memory. Happy to see the fund get the notice, though wish the editors had used the photo of Elizabeth we sent to them. It was from summer 2006, she was enjoying floating in a tube in the pond at Ackerman Road house. I think it's now on this site. If the article doesn't appear below, it will soon...I'm figuring that part out!

Invitation to contribute

This is an invitation to post and comment to this blog. You can become a contributor if you like. The blog was meant as a way for as many people to contribute as liked to, as a collaborative effort. There is now a counter to see if it is being viewed since there are so few comments. And then the comments are anonymous. It would be good to have comments and contributions from those of you who have found the blog meaningful to you. As her mother, I don't want to dominate the conversation, but also would understand if you don't feel up to being a contributor. It would just be good to hear from people. For instance, how many would like to have the video back?
Patty

Book funds in Elizabeth's name

Anyone who knew Elizabeth knew how much she loved to read.
We have been memorializing her with book funds. So far they are:

Tusten Cochecton Library
Narrowsburg, NY 12764

This is where we spent summers from when she was six until she died.

CBA Library
6245 Randall Rd.
Syracuse, NY 13214

Lizzy's grandfather, Leonard P. Markert, Jr., started a book fund at the Christian Brothers Academy library in Syracuse where his father graduated in 1918. There is a kiosk with Elizabeth's name on it there.

At the Polling Place

My name is always first
above my husband's
first initial P
before first initial R
Even though I always forget which district
I'm in, the ladies at the tables are nice
They turn the pages of the big spiral bound notebook
to our signatures. There is my name
and Richard's, but above both of ours
for the first time is another.
I wonder, whose?

It is our daughter's,
aged eighteen, who had registered
to vote, but never got to because she died.
What would you do? I came to vote
for president, but I stood there and I cried.