markwildyr.com, Post #141
Today, I don’t want to post a story, or cite from a novel, or
talk about the wonderful state of New Mexico. I want to tell you about a friend
and fellow writer. Dr. J. Stanley Rhine was a retired University of New Mexico
professor, whose field was Forensic Anthropology. He spent a good part of his
career traveling the western states visiting archaeological sites, examining
bones to determine how ancient peoples lived and what they ate. After the
notorious riot in the New Mexico State Penitentiary that took place February 2
and 3 in 1980, he was called in to identify some of the thirty-three dead
inmates, some of whom were horribly mutilated. I cannot help but believe the
experience of viewing “fresh kills” for the purpose of identification was much
more traumatic than examining the dry bones of yester-century, but given his
intensely laid-back personality, I doubt if it raised his heartbeat an iota. In
fact, I could see him become far more animated at discovering something new
from a dusty old bone from the 1700s. Not that he wasn’t empathetic—he was—but he
viewed things as a scientist.
Stan was a standout in a crowd. Tall and wiry, he stood ramrod
straight with a shock of white hair worn in the Mark Twain style and a thick
white Samuel Clements mustache and was instantly identifiable. He spoke in a
soft, low voice that required close attention to keep from losing what he was
saying… and usually when he spoke, what he said was worth understanding and retaining.
He wrote in a similar manner, a tight, small, cramped hand that almost required
a magnifying glass to read. In fact, he belonged to a luncheon group of writers
who completed the meal with a series of round robin stories (where each member
adds a sentence or thought and passes the story to the next reader for like
treatment), and one of our members sometimes carried just such a glass to read
Stan’s contribution. Stan unfailingly added a moment of wit to each such story.
Retired, he maintained an office at UNM where he wrote short stories
with clever O. Henry twists. I often told him he spent seven hundred words just
to deliver a ten-word surprise. He was a perfect blend of wit and wisdom.
A member of our Wordwrights Writing Group that met for years at
the North Domingo Multicultural Center, Stan wrote authoritative articles on
Western railroads and published two volumes of his short stories, Talking
Dogs, Singing Mice and Other Shaggy Dog Stories and An Omnium Gatherum (both
available on Amazon). The titles are a perfect expression of Stan’s complexity.
Part of that complexity is demonstrated by the fact that while he
was quite loquacious when speaking of other people and their efforts, few among
the group of around forty people or so who attended our Wordwrights class knew
little about his personal life, he held those details close. His instructions
for his own disposal after death were typical: No funeral, no memorial service,
no nothing. But everyone… and I mean everyone liked and respected Stan
Rhine.
Tragically, Stan suffered a fall on Wednesday, December 9, which
resulted in a skull fracture. Other problems developed, and Stan passed away in
the morning hours of Sunday the 13th. According to his wife Sue, he was sedated
and in no pain.
He will be missed by all who knew and loved him. Our thoughts and
prayers are with Sue and his family. Rest in Peace, Stan.
A further note. This identical lament is posted in the Don Travis
blog as we both knew, respected, and loved Stan.
The usual jumble of links and sources have been deleted, although
I’ve retained the motto as it is something San agreed with wholeheartedly.
Goodbye,
Stanley. Dear readers, I’ll be more in a mood to return to my usual type of posts
by New Year’s Day. Thanks for indulging me.
Website and blog: markwildyr.com
Email: markwildyr@aol.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/mark.wildyr
Twitter: @markwildyr
Now my
mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing.
You have something to say, so say it!
Mark
Stan always greeted me with encouragement.
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