“Abilene: the Village in My Heart” AC Greene March 19, 1981 32 Minutes A
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Abilene Public Library Centennial Series 1981 “Abilene: The Village in My Heart” A. C. Greene March 19, 1981 32 minutes Arlita Hallam: ....coordinating this Centennial series for the Abilene Public Library as our Centennial project for this year. In addition to these monthly programs, we have produced a brochure and I hope you all get a copy of it. This has just a synoptic history of Abilene as well as a list of our monthly programs on the centerfold. And we do have a couple of changes. On April 23 rd , next month, our program will be Juanita Zachry. She was originally scheduled for the September program. And then in May, Katharyn Duff will be doing the program, instead of Jack North and Jack North is doing his in September. So we get them all in. We just changed a few of the dates around. So do come back on April 23 rd for the program “Barbed Wire and Ranching in Taylor County.” Tonight we are particularly pleased to see such a large turnout. I realize that some of you may have to stand, but we’re glad that you are here and we know this is going to be a worthwhile program for you. Tonight to introduce our speaker A. C. Greene, we have invited Pat Bennett. You see last year Pat wrote a book called Talking with Texas Writers and one of the fascinating writers that he talked to was A. C. Greene. So this is a chance for you to get to meet Pat, who is a local author, as well as A. C. Greene. So without holding you any further, I’d like to introduce you to Patrick Gree.., or Patrick Bennett, I almost changed your name, who will then introduce our speaker, A. C. Greene. Pat. Audience laughs and applauds. Patrick Bennett: According to the Abilene Centennial calendar, in November of 1913, the Lytle Dam broke and emptied the city’s only water reservoir. It caused quite a stir. Ten years later, according to the source book, Contemporary Authors , in November of 1923, A. C. Greene was born. There wasn’t much of stir that time, but the effects were longer lasting. [ Audience laughs ] As soon as A. C. got big enough to talk and to write, the stir started and is still going on. A. C. earned his diploma from Abilene High School and began studies at Abilene Christian College before World War II interrupted. He served in the Navy in the Far East during World War II and returned to complete his bachelor’s degree at ACC in 1948. He intended to become a schoolteacher, but he got sidetracked when Hal Sayles hired him in 1948 to write for the Abilene Reporter-News. He also ran a notable bookstore here for awhile. Finally A. C. looked for a broader stage of action and took a position with the Dallas Times Herald, where he became editor of the editorial page as well as book critic. For some time, he had been selling articles to various magazines and finally in 1965, he took the plunge. He quit newspapering and wrote his first book, A Personal Country. It was published in 1969 by the most discriminating publishing house in North America, Alfred Knopf. As a work of art, it is the best book every published about Abilene. Eight additional Greene books followed. 1 The latest is Elephants in Your Mailbox, which was published in 1980. My personal favorite is the Santa Claus Bank Robbery. A.C. was long gone when I joined the Reporter-News staff in 1963, but the memory of a strong and original personality does not evaporate quickly and there were a good many Greene stories around the newsroom when I got there. I felt I already knew him before Sherwyn McNair introduced us two or three years later. I have always found him an intelligent and generous man. He helped me a great deal with my own recent book both with his sound advice and in more concrete ways, such as helping me get important interviews with Frances Mossiker and John Graves. Now the best way to meet most writers is not in person, but through their books. Nature has struck a better balance with our guest tonight. A. C. is both an interesting writer and an interesting talker. He has displayed this gift as a “talker” on television shows with Jim Lehrer and Billy Porterfield and others and most recently on his own ambitious radio show. I think you will enjoy meeting and hearing our guest speaker this evening, Abilene’s best known writer, A. C. Greene. Audience applauds. A. C. Greene: Thank you, Pat. There are just far too many people here tonight that have meant a lot to me, meant a great deal to me, for me to recognize you name by name, but I want all of you to know that I am very happy to see you. In some cases, I haven’t seen you in a good number of years. But in all cases, I am happy to see you and know that I am giving a personal greeting to you even though I’m having to do it sort of en masse or, however, you pronounce that word. [ Audience laughs ] It was very interesting to sit and listen to Pat do my life in, what, two minutes - jumping over five years of pain and heartache with quote, “awhile” unquote, and talking about the dam at Lytle Lake breaking. The most important thing that ever happened to me at Lytle Lake was many years later after the dam, after my birth. I was out there with a very cute blonde and we were sitting, holding hands on the dam and suddenly someone began to fire a gun at us. [ Audience laughs ] Turns out it was the lake keeper. He took his job very seriously. [ Audience laughs ] Some of the rest of you may have undergone that same indignity. I want to read the first part of the chapter of my book A Personal Company , which is about West Texas. There has been some criticism of the book. Frank Tolbert, he’s a good friend of mine. He writes a column about once a year saying how crazy I am in my definition of West Texas. In this book, my definition of West Texas is from the Brazos River to the Pecos and up to the Caprock and down to about San Angelo. And everybody says, “Well, that’s not West Texas. El Paso is farther west than that.” And I say, “Well, that’s not my West Texas.” So that’s my definition of West Texas and this is a chapter, a very short paragraph or two, out of the first part of the book. Every man has a village in his heart, whether he comes from abounding of Manhattan or the prairies of West Texas. It may be a crossroads town where every face was a daily familiarity, it may be one certain block within a metropolis, but there is a 2 village he has kept. The village is what he refers to when he is making his life decisions. When he cannot go back to the village and display his prizes, in pride or in scorn, he finds less satisfaction in achievement. He does not always love the village but he can never destroy it, for it is himself in it that makes it his village. Abilene is my village. It is the place I know best, the spot I have kept against change, although the town that made my village is very different, and so am I. And I’m going to speak on “Abilene, the village of my heart” with the understanding now that you take this paragraph into consideration that the Abilene we are going to be thinking about tonight is not the Abilene that surrounds us. Sooner or later, if you are from a small town, (and the definition of small town is impossible to pin down), someone will ask you if you didn’t wish that you’d come from a big city. This is like trying to ascertain who’s the richest man in the world. Where do you start and where do you stop? What do you mean by rich? What do you mean by big and small? I didn’t consider Abilene a small town when growing up here. It was populated by somewhat fewer than 25,000 persons. I was fiercely loyal to Abilene and nothing gave me a bigger thrill than finding Abilene’s name in a news story or hearing it pronounced on the radio. Once when I was twelve years old, I sent in a half a dozen postcards, (they were one cent each at that time), to the Literary Digest straw vote, the predecessor to the Gallup Poll. I voted for William Lemke, the Farm Labor candidate for president from somewhere in the upper Midwest. But the Literary Digest straw vote was a nightly feature of one of the radio networks and I was electrified one evening to hear the radio announcer say, “And out in Abilene, Texas, there is a sudden surge for Lemke.” [ Audience laughs ] I badly wanted recognition for my role in getting Abilene’s name of national radio, but I was too afraid to admit to anyone that I was the sudden surge for Lemke out in Abilene, Texas. The Literary Digest straw vote, you may remember, forecast a presidential victory for Alf Landon, whom F.D.R.