Wednesday, June 29, 2016

the first public poetry reading of this year in the project-- at the kutztown community library & a trip to firefly bookstore.

the first official public poetry reading for the second year of this project came together as a small get-together at the kutztown community library. betty umberger served as the main guest and reflected on more recently stirred memories of her shoe factory days in kutztown. lilly jay hetrick-ludy contributed with photography as well as reading one of her own poems as well as several new poems from this project in her own eight-year-old voice.







after the reading, lilly jay and i ventured to firefly bookstore, which brimmed with shoppers because it's such a neat local place but also in gratitude of the best kept secrets tour in berks county. and simply put, we love books. just about as equally, we love bookstores.








books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers. ― charles william eliot

Thursday, June 23, 2016

a glimpse: betty umberger, born 1928.

finally (internet-stirred drum roll, please), here is the very first hint of poems from the second year of this project and the upcoming book of 25 poems, which will be released by autumn through foothills publishing.

betty umberger who knew shoe-thinking kind of living by day in the kutztown area will be the main featured guest for my upcoming poetry reading at the kutztown community library (70 bieber alley, kutztown, pa 19530) this saturday afternoon, june 25 @ 1 p.m. there are still some life-minutes yet to RSVP to 610.401.3392 or thelaborsofourfingertips@yahoo.com.

below is an excerpt from umberger's poem.

*

at 191 willow street in kutztown, i kept busy at wenton shoe
factory starting in 1970 or 1971. the bosses let me work when
i could be there, after i had to drop my son joel off at school
and before i picked him up at the end of a weekday. i used
a skiving machine, about the same size as a standard sewing

machine. you sat in front of it, cutting—thinning hickory nut
shell or wing of crow-colored leather to tuck under the vamp.
the section just behind the bones of toes is what they call
the vamp. i’d shave lean layers of leather off, down. you had
to adjust the skiving machine’s settings to be sure you didn’t

take off too much leather, too thick of a slice. i didn’t touch
finished shoes, just the raw pieces. a person came and took
your completed pieces away, brought you more new stacks
of leather for your workload. the machines hummed, a chorus
of noise, a symphony of roaring across factory aficionados.

but the place shut down by the end of the decade.

by 1980, i heard adidas USA, inc. moved into the building,
that they were looking for new workers. a lot of us shoe-folks
who knew the building well were brought in again. at rehire,
some people were sent overseas to herzogenaurach, germany,
for detailed training. the thick-accented man in charge of us

in kutztown pounded quality-thinking into us. he always had
the final say, eckert spaeth, although recalling how he spelled
his name isn’t easy to remember. 

*