Etc.

Pictures

Chujoe Wiki


Others

Inside Higher Ed

Killing the Buddha

Projo Subterranean News

Seed Magazine

Spike Magazine

Textplanet

Third Factory

Thoughtcast


Short List

Bemsha Swing

Body & Soul

Burningbird

The Loom

Luca Antara

Oblivio

Open Brackets

Robert Peake

Pharyngula

Real Live Preacher

Silliman's Blog

Slacktivist

The Valve

Vitro Nasu

Wood s Lot

Yule's Log



Support Bloggers' Rights!
Support Bloggers' Rights!

Blog Flux Directory

Jim Simmerman · Jul 2, 12:54 PM

I heard last night that my old grad school mate & Dog Music collaborator Jim Simmerman has taken his own life. Jim had suffered all his [adult] life from debilitating arthritis & given that he was a natural athlete, he was constantly in pain. Though we worked together on an extended project, Jim & I were not particularly close, but I feel his loss acutely nevertheless. Jim was among the most honorable & honest people I have known—any dishonesty, no matter how small, deeply offended him, which could make him severe. His severity, though, was always in defense of the good & the honorable. This attitude is one of the things that made him a strong & effective member of the AWP Board—I know because I served on that board shortly after Jim left it. We are always shocked by suicide, but one thing I know about Jim is that even this most radical & final act would have been taken in a state of existential awareness. I know that he lived as long as he could. There was a big storm here last night that broke shortly after I learned of Jim’s death & I will let that mark his death in my memory. Here is what my old friend Jim Cervantes wrote on the New Poetry listserve:

My daughter and grandkids live in Flagstaff, so I’d run into Jim up there quite often, and then professionally as part of the poetry & blues group that assembled for festivals and bookfairs.

I think this had been coming for a good while. Last year, for the first time ever, Jim declined participating in our poetry & blues group at the Flagstaff festival and other events. Then, he’d had two hip replacements and was facing yet another surgery. He also stopped responding to e-mails. I wrote to him not long after the AWP in Austin, asking why he hadn’t been there – he would have loved the “music capital” of Texas.

And, I’ve heard from a friend in Flagstaff that he’d recently broken up with a girlfriend in Tucson. Now, I’ve heard from my daughter in Flagstaff that he’d recently re-written his will, bought a gun, and gave away his dog, Bandit. Clearly, he’d hit bottom and had his mind made up. What a stark contrast to the guy with a great sense of humor, a great love for poetry, and a friend to many.

* * *

  1. Friends,

    Small stuff, but Jim simmerman did not give away his dog Bandit—she died four months ago. Also he did not, as Joseph D. says, “suffer from arthritis his entire life” but rather for about seven years’. Not crucial, but James (Jay, executor of Jim’s estate and the person who found Jim) and I are sensitive to accuracy at this crucial point, and the rumors are already overflowering—
    Thanks and more soon! may I quote Jim’s and James’ kind words about Jim in my article with the Sun?

    Bec

    Rebecca Byrkit

    Director, Northern Arizona Resource Center & Artspace
    Home of the Northern Arizona Book Festival
    — Rebecca Byrkit    07/04/2006 07:51 PM    #
  2. Jim had to quit karate back in grad school in the 80s because of arthritis. I have no desire to contribute to disinformation, but Jim’s disease went back more than seven years. With all due respect, I knew Jim longer than Ms. Byrkit. As for the story about his dog, I quoted Jim Cervantes & have no personal knowledge. Update: Ms. Byrkit informs me by email that she has known Jim for 27 years & that he quit karate in grad school because of staph infection in his fingers. I accept her version of the facts, but not the relatively short term of Jim's debilitating arthritis, not that this is necessarily a determining factor in his suicide. But I strongly object to her characterization of my description of Jim's situation as contributing to an "overflow" of "rumor."
    — jd    07/04/2006 09:53 PM    #
  3. Last night I returned from Mexico to hear John Drury’s devastating message, information he’d gleaned from Mark Irwin, that Jim Simmerman had committed suicide. During the dozen or so years that I knew Jim, as his editor at Miami University Press, I published “Moon Go Away, I Don’t Love You No More” and “Kingdom Come.” Because of poor health, I resigned my editorship in 2003, but, as I told Jim repeatedly, I regretted not being able to bring out his fifth book, “American Children.” I obviously have a lot to say about Jim’s poems, which mean so much to me that I sometimes slip into one of his darkly humorous mannerisms in my own writing or find myself inadvertently plagiarizing a Simmermanesque phrase or two. Thank God I let him know how much I cared about his work. Better yet, I let him know I loved him—and I think he loved me. Once, he let my daughter Crystal stay in his house for a few weeks while he was on one of his annual summer rafting trips. (Was it the Colorado River? I no longer remember.) What I remember was that he was rereading Twain’s “Huck Finn” in spring 1996 when I visited him and his pooch Bandit in Flagstaff. I remember the motorcycle gleaming in his garage, his girlfriend who had a dog that played in his backyard with Bandit, the pizza joint we went to for dinner one night in Flagstaff. When Jim visited Miami University for a week’s poet-in-residency in 1999 after “Kingdom Come” was published, I remember his wiry physique when we worked out at my university’s Rec Center. How could I know that this Charles Atlas of a guy would be laid low by pain? He mentioned that he needed a hip replacement, but I assumed he would shuck that off with a laugh. He loved to laugh, and his father, a retired military man whom I once met and hit it off with, also loved to laugh.

    Without coming up with an instant elegy, how can I deal with my grief about my namesake? I used to call him Simmie Jimmerman or Jimson Weed; I had jillions of silly nicknames for him, as he had for me. Because he was born in Bill Clinton’s state, I sometimes thought of him as an Arkansas Traveler.

    Well, now his travels are over. No, strike that! May his poems continue to traverse the territory—and discover new places in our hearts!
    — Jim Reiss    07/05/2006 12:20 PM    #
  4. I just found this out by looking up some of Jim’s poems on the internet. I was a student in both of his poetry workshops at NAU. His writing speaks for itself, and all of his students will remember him as a true inspiration and high-priest of the craft, if you will.I was just thinking of how I’d like to visit him again soon… This loss is tragic to Flagstaff and the literary world at large. In Flag he was my saige, my cheerleader, and a guiding spirit for my work. I also had a opportunity a few years back to tell him what he meant to me as a teacher, and this gives, at least a little resolve.
    — Jennifer Dunn    07/05/2006 01:46 PM    #
  5. I am a sometime member of the poetry & blues group mentioned above by Jim Cervantes – one of the “blues” members, actually. My brother, Steve, and I love to provide music for these gifted writers (performers, actually), and Simmerman’s contributions were always inspired and outstanding.

    my friendship with Jim goes back much, much farther than that, however. We became friends back in the eighties by spending many hours with mutual friends and hanging out at the Weatherford Hotel in downtown Flagstaff. In all those years I saw him in pain, but never once saw anything in Jim that could be described as weakness, which makes me think as well that this was a well-planned, conscious decision on his part. A decision made in a “state of existential awareness” as it was eloquently, comfortingly stated above.

    I’m going to miss him. I didn’t get to see him nearly as often as I would have liked, but I was confident that I would always see him again.

    John Willis
    — John Willis    07/06/2006 03:12 AM    #
  6. I was in workshops with Jim at Iowa in ‘80 and will tell you he his writing even then was an inspiration. Haven’t seen Jim in many years. Sad news to think that someone else from my class would be gone already (Glen Slavan was the first) and sad more so to know that person is Jim.
    — Harriet levin    07/06/2006 11:49 AM    #
  7. I was a friend if Jim’s and saw him every day. I wanted to let you know that he never gave away his dog Bandit. Bandit passed away which hurt Jim deeply last year. He found love again with a husky pup named Yoshi. Jim found another family for his new friend when he was unable to provide for her what he thought she needed. With frequent trips to the hospital and limited mobility, he found it difficult to keep up with her level of energy. He loved her very much and I found him visibly upset when her birthday came around a month ago. Jim was a wonderful man, and all who knew him should be proud to have made his aquaintance. I know I’m having a hard time dealing with this news, and the rest of those close to him will feel this shock for a very long while. I am pleased that there are so many people who care so much about him, and I hope that this can be a forum of good, happy thoughts for those who will miss him dearly.
    — Devon    07/06/2006 06:30 PM    #
  8. Thanks to everyone who has posted about Jim. I appreciate the stories & the information.
    — jd    07/06/2006 08:37 PM    #
  9. I moved to Flagstaff in 1981 when Jim was a fresh and exciting new voice at NAU. He influenced my taste in literature and gave my a profound appreciation for wordplay. I have a million fond memories of playing softball, watching foreign films, and river rafting on the San Juan with him. He was an excellent teacher, a moving writer, and I am sorry that he had to leave this world so soon. In addition to his wonderful Bandit let’s not forget Lolita and all the other dogs he dearly loved!
    — Roxanne    07/06/2006 09:08 PM    #
  10. After my first class of Jim’s at NAU I made it a point to take anything I could from the man. He showed me that one could be fanatical about poetry. He was a great man and a great poet and I’ll miss him.
    — soren jespersen    07/07/2006 12:22 PM    #
  11. I was a classmate of Jim’s thirty years ago at U of Missouri and then later at Iowa. Tonight I am remembering him playing lead guitar in a rock band in my basement in Iowa City, teaching most of the rest of us to play.

    I remember that he and I dreamed up an exercise and both came back a day or two later with our poems, and he said a kind word about my effort.

    I remember him saying that even when he wrote a poem that he saw wasn’t going to amount to much that it was a point of pride for him to finish it, to make it as perfect as he could.

    I’ve quoted his satirical haiku to my students many times over the years. I remember it this way:

    Spring. A robin
    Lands on my windowsill.
    I make a big deal of it.

    I remember Jim singing “All Along the Watchtower” into the only microphone we had, playing lead, as I leaned in with the harmonica and Ross and Mike filled out the booming sound on their guitars.
    — Ken Smith    07/07/2006 09:09 PM    #
  12. I didn’t know Jim well, but he was my teacher and my neighbor. He taught poetry with passion, humor, intelligence and he wouldn’t let anyone off the hook easily. He gave me a new love of formal poetry, and I owe him so much and if I ever make one red cent from this poetry thing he will be a big part of the reason why. We lived on the same street and I often saw him walking Bandit, and later Yoshi. I was never aware of his illness, he seemed so vital, but I know the death of Bandit hurt him deaply. I wish that I could tell him how beautiful he crafted language, how sharp and accurate his line breaks were, that we could argue about the best drummers. I truly appreciate hearing from those who knew him well, that we can celebrate his life. NAU has put up this dedication site: www4.nau.edu/insidenau/bumps/2006/7_6_06/simmerman.htm
    If you wish to make a donation in his honor, the site gives the address of the local Flagstaff Humane Society.
    He is dearly missed.
    — Randy Sproat    07/08/2006 04:32 AM    #
  13. I met Jim in the early 80’s, when I enrolled in a beginning poetry workshop, more out of curiousity than anything else. I don’t know exactly what I expected, but it wasn’t the wiry man in a Hawaiin shirt who read me Richard Hugo and James Wright and changed my notions of poetry and my direction in life. My notions were further challenged when I discovered that my sensei, for I had also enrolled, out of curiousity, in a karate class, was the same man with the blazing eyes, the sharp wit, and the no-nonsense intensity. My idea of poetry was Dante and the King James Bible, but when I first read the poems in Home, I realized it was okay to write about my own hometown. Joe’s Place, The Gables, The Lumberjack… I learned that poetry is deeply rooted in your own experience. Those poems worked their way into me like splinters. To this day, Home is the most dog-eared, coffee-stained volume on my bookshelf. The cover and spine are missing. When his later books came I fully realized what a stunningly good poet Jim was. He was also the best and most influential teacher I had. I became a poet because of this man. And he became a friend. I left Flag in 1985, and after that only saw him once or maybe twice a year. Whenever I came back to my hometown, I’d make it a priority to visit Jim. As time went on, I drifted apart from old friends, and in the last few years, there were only two people left in Flag that I cared to look up. Jim was one of them. He would have stayed on that short list for many years. I treasured Jim’s influence on my life, and I will miss him.
    — Mark Rozema    07/08/2006 04:02 PM    #
  14. I am Jim’s cousin. I always knew him as Darry. When he was a little boy, hi mother told him she had him just for me. I loved him very much. I never had the abilities for words as he did, but he never made me feel inferior in any way. Although we lived very far apart, I tried to call him at least once a year. Five years ago, when my husband passed away, he helped me through a rough time. I’m sure his parents will apreciate the many knid words about him. I also appreciate it.
    — Nancy Easton    07/13/2006 08:33 PM    #
  15. Jim was one of my best students at Iowa, serious, scrupulous and hard-working when it came to poetry. He kept his standards high, as evidenced by the many fine choices he made as a contributing editor to the annual Pushcart Prize anthology. Over the years we corresponded infrequently, but I always valued him as a former student and friend. I am deeply grieved at his death, the news of which was passed on to me by another former student of mine and classmate of Jim’s. We have his poems and must be grateful for that.
    — Henry Carlile    07/14/2006 01:33 PM    #
  16. Jim was one of my best buddies for many years. We met at the University of Missouri-Columbia, when I came from the East to take my Master’s Degree. Jim and I became fast friends one weekend when a group of us went rafting on the Jack’s Fork and Current Rivers after a heavy rain. The waters were running high, the rafts capsized, people were nearly swept away. Save for Jim and myself, everyone went bonkers. We knew from that moment we could be and should be long term buddies. We travelled together to England and Scotland, several times, and I would visit him in Flagstaff, most recently to take care of him two summers ago when he had a hip replacement. He was an immensely good man. His books are on my shelf, letters he wrote sit in my drawers, each one ending with,”ever the best of friends…what larks,” quoting Joe Gargery to Pip in Great Expectations. I spoke to him just a week or so before he took his life. I was out of the country when he died. He had told me how hard his life was becoming and how he did not think he could take it much more. I reminded him how once when I was in a very dark place, he had said that I had to be worth something to have the friends I did (meaning him first of all)I told him the same, but somehow when he performed the algorithm of his life, the solution he arrived at did not include remaining with us. He is at peace now, free from all pains. Of late, I would end my phone calls to him by telling him I loved him. He would say the same. It breaks my heart to have him gone.

    Ever the best of friends,

    Kevin
    — Kevin Barr    07/16/2006 10:47 PM    #
  17. Here is a sweet (short) tribute to Jim Simmerman, recently aired on NPR (locally recorded by KNAU-FM, Laurel Druley-Morales): http://stream.publicbroadcasting.net/production/mp3/knau/local-knau-519963.mp3

    I am keeping careful track of those interested in news of Jim’s memorial service in September, as well as those interested in the new Foundation established in Jim’s name, through our literacy program (Book Festival) here in Jim’s town (Flagstaff, Arizona). Please email me if you would like to hear from me about these matters.

    The notes here are tremendously moving.

    Love, Becky
    — Becky Byrkit    07/17/2006 03:01 PM    #