two hundred fifty three

MISTER EISENHOWER

When I was in middle school I was part of a new progressive experiment one genius idea was "New Math" so I am happy we now have calculators. The next idea was to split the year into thirds so the boys and girls took one third of the year home economics, one third wood shop and one third art class. In Home Economics I learned to properly set a table and fold a cloth napkin. Wood Shop was taught by a teacher who the year before was a janitor. Somehow I had pissed him off so he didn't like my attitude so basically I learned nothing.

Then there was Art Class with Mister Eisenhower. He was a young man fresh out of college. He was post beatnik and pre hippie with a buzz haircut, always wore a t-shirt, had jeans with the knees out and wore sandals rain, snow or shine. They told him to wear a neck tie so he painted one on his t-shirt. 

Needless to say he only lasted a year but he was my all time favorite teacher. His classes were so unconventional. He taught us to see by taking days to look at our very own chicken egg. We named them, smelled them, licked them, looked through them and listened to them. 

We drew one line, don't take the pen off of the paper drawings (like Picasso). He distracted us by telling us gross stories about how they mummified the Pharaohs nose entry brain hooks and everything.  I guess he did this to  access our left brains and imaginations. 

He talked about free thinking, being an individual and made being responsible sound cool. I still remember his wisdom, "Have your own opinion not someone elses" and "Everyone can look at things, but only a few can see them".

He thought art in any form is for the viewer not for the artist. It isn't what the artist puts into it, it is what the viewer sees feels and thinks about it. Getting people to think and feel is a beautiful thing.

He got us to think about the silly things people say everyday just like Gallager the comedian, but this was years before Gallager. 

What he did for me is to actually see me and value my opinion like he did all of the other seventh grade students. We all got serious around him because we all valued what he thought about us. We all tried to see things like he did as I still do today.

He lived down the street so I saw him now and then. He went back to being a starving artist. He had art everywhere in and on the house, We found a vein of pottery clay and fired some really cool pottery pieces in bonfires in his backyard. Those months were the best months of my 12 years of school.

Another nudge along my way.

two hundred fifty two

The things you look at, do you really see them?

 

Wesley Hanna

This man was born in 1900 and died in 1985, he is still alive in my mind and heart. He lived near the town I grew up in, in fact he sold the land to the city where they built their water reservoir. The house he had lived in for 70 years was built from the trees and field stone on the land. 

I didn’t know him until he was older but he had lived a full life of business and farming. He was obviously a large powerful man as a younger man. Now he was a quiet gentle man with a bad heart. His wife was a few years younger but limited by age. 

The interaction between them was fun to watch after more than 60 years together I only saw the end product. I’m sure there were epic fights, crisis and joys along the way. 

I made the mistake at first seeing them as old people. The longer I talked with Wesley the more I realized his mind and spirit were still young. The wear and tare of life plus many hard years had taken it’s toll. I’m beginning to understand this in my own life.

Wesley had not lived more than five miles from where he was born. I’m not sure he traveled much. Some may think he had a limited life but I absolutely know he had a full life. 

He was informed about current events and history. He was well read and owned an amazing amount of books. He quoted everything from Henry Thoreau, William Shakespeare to the King James Bible. He had a college degree and had the wisdom and sharp mind of a farmer. 

By farmers mind I mean he was a weather man, knew commodity markets, math, engineering, carpentry, plumbing, electricity, mechanics, understood the handling and care of animals and yes he could grow and harvest crops. He ran heavy equipment, worked in coal mines and did custom farming. He was a leader in the local Grange, active on the school board and I think he was a county politician.

I didn’t ask about his past because he didn’t seem to live there, what I did find was a man who taught me how to “see”.

I remember the day we walked through his garden. He pointed out the smells, sounds and touched everything and had me touch it. We were on an adventure through an amazing place. From the fuzz on green tomatoes, the smell of a hot radish to the sweet milk of sweet corn. Everything was amazing to him. 

At breakfast he had looked out of the same farm house kitchen window for all of those years and always saw something interesting. How the leaves on the trees were predicting the weather, how the cows were standing or laying down in the pasture, how the insects were acting and what the birds were showing him. 

Wesley had the spark in his aging eyes of a curious child, I wondered if he had learned this or was he just born that way. All I knew is that I wanted to see the world like he did. 

Over the years I remembered Wesley and when I felt like I was missing something or bored with my surroundings I would focus on the things around me and try to see them like Wesley. 

There were a few people in my life that impacted me profoundly, Wesley Hanna was one of them. I doubt he had a clue what he had taught me but perhaps he did.  

(the picture is a stock Ohio farm picture not Wesley's farm)