Spirits In Peace Blog

Beginning in the 1840’s, there was an outbreak of leprosy (now known as Hansen’s disease) in the Tracadie region of New Brunswick, Canada. Many of the ill were rounded up and shipped off to l’Ile-aux-Bec-Scies (Shedrake Island) where they were treated with no regard for any form of human dignity. Some fled or escaped, and remained hidden by families for entire lifetimes. A lazaretto opened in Tracadie, and the stigma destroyed the economy of the region for a time. It closed in 1974.

Sadly, Hansen’s disease has yet to be eradicated in the world, and that includes the Americas, where there are roughly 32000 cases (2006 statistics), with hundreds of thousands of new cases diagnosed each year worldwide.

Thank you to forensic anthropologist Dr. Kathy Reichs for penning the novel Bones To Ashes  and therein providing much of the factual content which assisted with the evolution of this poem.

And above all, thank you to Richard Doiron for introducing me to the heart and soul of Acadie…

 At The Heart Of Acadie

Old as crumble-clod of coastal clay she was,
that Tracadie-crone, nose gnawed and gnarled
 to crooked concave curve, upper lip lump-lengthy,
complexion porridge-paste.  Destroyed digits,
Hansen’s-honed to useless humps, remained,
 remnants of former fingers that erewhile fleetly flew
across parlour piano in front-gabled stone-hewn house
with Miscou view and outlook on Lamèque. 

But, terror-tracked as teen, she’d fled for fear
of bar and banishment to blasted Bec Scies Isle,
removed from fellowship of family and friends,
her bones to be in time interred in unmarked grave.
Hence hovel-hidden, without hope of help or healing,
she spent spinster yearning-years in silent solitude,
mystery of music her solace, mate, and muse.

I gazed at malformed face, once fair, and discerned
circle-sunken eyes filled not with melancholy misery,
but with love and liveliness and lustrous lucid light.
And all at once I saw not simply Sheldrake-sickness,
but strength of soul and spirit at the heart of Acadie.

   ©Carol Knepper

The music of the Acadian culture shows the richness, warmth and pride of a people whose very survival has been threatened in this province. The remarkable poet, novellist, and biographer Richard Doiron, with whom I have the honour of sharing this website, penned the lyrics to the well-known Acadian anthem “Mon Acadie”:

 Mon Acadie

1
Les champs de foin, dans tous les coins,
Ont la mémoire.
Ils chantent à tous, je vous l’avoue,
Il faut le croire.
La pensée d’hier c’était misères
En grandes couleurs.
L’histoire du jour est une d’amour,
Qui vient du coeur.

(Refrain)
Mon Acadie, toi si jolie, tu es si belle.
Je pense à toi, et chaque fois je me rappelle
D’un vieil ancien, qui m’entretient à grande gloire.
Mon Acadie, t’es mon pays, t’es mon histoire.

 (Refrain)
Mon Acadie, toi si jolie, tu es si belle.
Je pense à toi, et chaque fois je me rappelle
D’un vieil ancien qui m’entretient à grande gloire.
Mon Acadie, t’es mon pays, t’es mon histoire.

Late last evening, I, and many others in the literary community, learned of the passing of poet and publisher Sondra Ball. This is a great loss, and one need only type her name into a web search to gain an inkling of this woman’s remarkable accomplishments.

In a world too often replete with pretension and elitism, Sondra was one of the genuine ones who cared for literature and poets as opposed to mere person gain and advancement.

Sondra lived in New Jersey with her husband, Mario Cavallini, and she and I often exchanged notes about the weather - especially signs of spring and the beauty of autumn, relative  to the nature poetry we both so loved.  Since its inception in 1997, her e-zine, “Autumn Leaves” was an excellent forum wherein aspiring poets could be published. It was published twice monthly and apparently received 300,000 hits monthly, which shows both the magnitude and the quality of this remarkable woman’s undertaking. One might wish to peruse the following link:One final edition of Autumn Leaves will be posted at that site.

http://www.sondra.net/al/

One final edition of Autumn Leaves will be posted at that site.

Recently, Sondra’s breast cancer, which had been in remission for many years, returned, and notes from Sondra became less frequent. Unfortunately, the cancer was found to have metastisized. In the early morning hours of in the first hours of Tuesday, March 16th, Sondra passed away after a difficult illness.

I have written the following piece in memory of Sondra: