As for news, I am happy to say announce that our film MARATHON has been awarded a special jury prize for "Excellence in Filmaking - Narrative Feature" at the Anthem Film Festival final banquet July 16th at Bally's Hotel in Las Vegas. The Anthem Festival is part of Freedom Fest, a gathering of 3,000 Libertarians from all walks of life to discuss business, politics and the arts. Films demonstrating self reliance and personal courage were selected, certainly qualities William demonstrated his entire lifetime, but especially with the challenges of ageing. We were able to present his poetry at the convention center book store, and describe the foundations work at various functions and to friends such as my old college roomate, Brian Greenspun who publishes the Las Vegas Sun. Speakers included Steve Forbes, Juan Williams, Senator Paul, and Doug Casey among others. Dr. Joseph Stauffer kindly sponsored travel to conference and as well as Mr. and Mrs. John Brennan.

Another festival, The Gig Harbor Film Festival has invited us to Washington state this October 14-16th, and my hometown, York Pa. has invited us to the Prometheus Film Festival on August 19th, the day afer my 65th (gulp!) birthday. I will be in York with friends and family to celebrate the film and commiserate on the anniversary. And just before the York festival, we have been accepted as an official selection in the Columbia Gorge Film Festival in Vancouver, Washington. Our great hope is to schedule more theatrical releases of MARATHON in venues such at the University of Ohio where it showed recently as well as the Downtown Bocca Festival this past spring.

Upcoming festivals include:

The Columbia Gorge Film Festival, takes place in Vancover, WA August 10-14, 2011.

The Prometheus Festival, York, PA August 19-21, 2011.

The Gig Harbor Festival,Washington State, October 13-16, 2011.

Letter from the President

Dear Friends,

Hello again, here at Riverrun where summer is a rollin' in. The stand of Japanese maples we planted last year has done well despite the deer's appetite for the small delicious red leaves. The lawn mower has been fixed and "the field tilting always toward day" has been given a haircut. William's longtime friend, John Hracyk stopped by this week to present us with the gift of a Chinese sculpture from his collection, a green ceramic dog to guard against evil spirts we have named Lee Chen. I've changed the O-rings in the leaky faucet and replaced the window the storms blew in this winter. Two long-haired princes come from New York soon to put a stainless steel liner in the chimney. Always something with a house.... But we are a state landmark now, and we need to attend to the tired beauty of the place as best as possible. My great hope is that one day the foundation will take ownership of the house and continue its spirit in perpetuity.

Finally, we are in the process of publishing David Fisher's Collected Poems this fall with Little Red Tree Publishing House of New London. David's work will be the first in the William Meredith Poetry Award as part of the Poetry Festival. A second volume will follow, that of Florida Poet Laureate, Edmond Skellings. Ed was a longtime friend of William's. Diane Newman has worked with Ed over the years as his colleague and editor. She has worked for years as program administrator and most recently as Archive Manager at Evans College. We plan to welcome Diane as a Meredith fellow for a residency next summer to begin the digitization of William's archive and organization of his papers at the library at Riverrun.

I leave you with three poems, one a sort of "objet trouve" from a walk to the river, and two from the poets we have selected to inaugurate The William Meredith Poetry Award coming soon from Little Red Tree. Recently too, I came across a YouTube posting of William reading his poem "Crossing Over." The epigraph to the poem is from Uncle Tom's Cabin. How this poem was published with the photo from his youth I have no idea. But the more often William speaks to us from this internet aethers, all the better, say I. One evening I was thinking of him and for some reason pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and there was a picture of William and Daisy. Disconcerting and lovely.... Enjoy the pleasures of summer.

Richard

Richard Harteis
President, The William Meredith Foundation

To be sure it hadn't been stolen
from its winter bed beside the barn
I walked to the point as a last resort
in search of the missing kayak.
Early summer had thrown a green
caftan over her as she slept, another
black mark for the navy boy who took her
dancing and didn't bring her home.
The water was dark as onyx,
a lone swan bobbed for grass
just off shore, the horizon divided
into blue and green - irresistible.
Not as deft as in earlier days,
I slipped into her like an old lover
and we set out together in silence
the water singing to us as we cut
the swells of a passing jetski -
a girl and boy, two boys?
holding tight as they zipped up river.
Two dragonflies in media res.
Peace on careless sailors, speed daemons.
To everything there is a season. A time to
drift, to be alone, neither sad nor happy
like the swan gliding away as I return.
I lift her ashore, and an impatient
stow away jumps from the kayak
and scurries into the bushes. A sweet,
dark-eyed mouse, a little grace note
from the universe to end the simple
song of a summer afternoon.

-Richard Harteis

The Lost Airman

I can't fly any more because of heart troubles.
One valve is fluttering in the bloodwind. The whole
Hangar suffers from a long neglect. And I say
Nothing is like the sweet quiet of a midwest dawn.
You wet your feet and the bottoms of your blue
Overalls with dewshine from the morning, and
Have time for a slow coffee and a slow read
Of the old happenings of the world's yesterday.
And after the long yawn of the huge barn doors, arms
Stretch out in the sun's light like wings. One can
Drum a hand's fingers on the lacquer fabric, typing
Nothing anyone else will read or understand.
And after the sputter and the runup, after the roll,
The lift, the throttle back to cruise, there is a little
Minute to look down at fog wisp and mist puff.
It is a real wonder to look level at heaven.
And I don't know why I woke thinking of the white
Sparrow skeleton I saw once stuck in the black roof tar,
But I can't fly any more because of my heart's troubles.
And it is hard to remember, the odor of oil on the clover.

-Edmund Skellings

The Bear

Thrown from the boxcar of the train, the bear
rolls over and over. He sits up
rubbing his nose. This must be
some mistake,
there is no audience here.
He shambles off through the woods.
The forest is veined with trails,
he does not know which to follow.
The wind is rising, maple leaves turn up
their silver undersides in agony, there is a
smell in the air, and the lightening strikes.
He climbs a tree to escape. The rain
pours down, the bear is blue as a gall.
There is not much to eat
in the forest, only berries,
and some small delicious animals
that live in a mound and bite your nose.
The bear moves sideways through a broom-straw field.
He sees the hunters from the corner of his eye
and is sure they have come to take him back.
To welcome them , (though there is no calliope)
he does his somersaults, and juggles
a fallen log, and something
tears through his shoulder,
he shambles away in the forest and cries.
Do they not know who he is?
After a while, he learns to fish, to find
the deep pool and wait for the silver trout.
He learns to keep his paw up for spiderwebs.
There is only one large animal, with trees
on its head, that he can not scare.
At last he is content to be
alone in the forest,
though sometimes he finds a clearing
and solemnly does tricks,
though no one sees.

-David Fisher