In Fond Memory of Dave Marks – Jane Boswell

Our dear friend and homeschool advocate, Dave Marks passed away on August 6 after a long struggle with leukemia.

Each of us that has relied on his books, or has practiced the common-sense wisdom gleaned from his articles, or has had the privilege to hear him speak at conferences all over the United States will miss him.

I first met Dave at one of the earliest homeschool conferences I coordinated in the Detroit, Michigan area. At that time,“Family Times” was a very tiny, typewritten hand-out of sorts. I’d just finished passing it out to interested exhibitors when suddenly, a man’s voice shouted after me as I walked away from the exhibit area, “Who wrote this piece here??” he demanded. I turned to see Dave, striding briskly toward me, waving the newsletter above his head. My first thought, “Uh oh, now what?... Swallowing hard, I stammered, “I did, is something wrong?” Then his face softened into a charming smile and he calmly said, “Oh no, this is very good - really good!” More relieved than you can imagine, but embarassed all the same, I quickly thanked him and then turned away before he saw my cheeks flushed hot and red. I’m sure he must have considered me very rude.

After regaining some composure, I returned to apologize, and politely looked at his Writing Strands books. (Which I later bought for my own children.) Soon, we were engaged in lengthy discussion. Within minutes I knew exactly where he stood on “the essentials of reading, critical thinking and writing and the less-than-useful place for grammar in the great scheme of all things dealing with the writing process.” Always full of questions, I remember him asking me what I thought parents needed most to help them teach their children writing. (Of course, he was asking every parent this question.) I suggested that he needed to write another book to help parents evaluate their child’s writing. He thought that might be a good idea and though it took him longer than I liked, he did write it. (Evaluating Writing)

When “Family Times” went to tabloid format and began a nation-wide circulation around 1991, I asked Dave if he would “write something” for it - and he did and that just sort of continued. We never had a formal agreement and he always supported us with paid advertising and much needed encouragement.

If you’ve ever read his columns or books, you’ll see how greatly he valued an honest character, integrity, courage, and determination. If he didn’t like something, he’d say so. You always knew where you stood with Dave. Honesty and trustworthiness were important to him and he wanted to pass those traits on to the younger generation. He did this in a unique way through many of his creative writing lessons and especially in his “Dragonslaying is for Dreamers” trilogy of novels.

Although he loved a well crafted plot, working diligently to teach wordsmithing to students, he understood that at the heart of teaching – mentoring – is the passing on of life’s important values. He taught it, he wrote it into everything he published and he lived it.

This year, while he was battling leukemia, Dave sent me articles for publication almost weekly until early summer. And I will publish them per his request. They are some of his best. He has entrusted his work to his wife, Lea and a family that he cherished. He would always speak proudly of his son, Corey, and his achievements as a poet, writer and teacher. Dave wrote poems too, did you know? He wrote and published a small book of poems which he dedicated to his grand daughter and sent me a copy earlier this year.

I took the liberty of selecting one for you to read. He and his wife Lea moved to Grand Marais, one of the most northernmost towns in the upper peninsula of Michigan. Their house faced beautiful Lake Superior. He loved it there and his book of poetry, Snapshots of the North, are his vivid word pictures of this intensely beautiful and wild area of our country.

SPINNING WHEELS

Leaving the rumors of wars,
Corporate scams and
Stock market swings
Was a dream.
No longer would we be witness to
The world of competition.

Now we sit at the table
And watch through the glass door
The carnival on the deck
And between our house
And the beach.

Each morning,
As the sky’s dark line on the water
Glows pink,
A wolf,
Following the bank,
Crosses our property,
Lean, gray and intense,
Long nose leading close-set eyes
– searching.

This morning it was tracked
By a fox,
Red, bushy tail hanging down and
Black nose held to the ground.

Two red squirrels fight
Over the bird feeder,
And both protect those riches
Fram a small, pillaging chipmunk
Who steals the nuts and seeds
And stuffs its cheeks till they bulge
Like the pillowcase sack of a burglar.

A male hummingbird
Guards the red sugar-water feeder
From two females.
He’s at his station
Vigilant and vibrating
Every day, all day.

Blue jays drive the smaller birds away.
But all scatter
When an eagle,
Following the shoreline,
Casts its shadow across the deck.

We moved to the big lake
And still live with that dream.

by Dave Marks, 1930 - 2004