Once Upon a Time…

Grace Episcopal Church
Radford, VA

I’m grateful to Grace Episcopal Church for offering the walls of its Bullard Room as a temporary home for some of my larger work that would otherwise be out of sight in storage.

All of this work is rooted in memory (perhaps everything we do is rooted in memory). While my backstory may provide some insight into this work – I really hope it stirs memories from your own backstory.

Once upon a time, a boy grew up in the American Midwest on the corner of 15th St. and Maple Ave. of Holland, Michigan during the middle of the 20th century. His older sister and a younger bother and sister sort of made him a middle child. School was 2 blocks to the east and church was 2 blocks to the south…home was in the middle. He shared a second floor bedroom with his brother. Right outside the big sash window next to his bed was a row of tall silver maple trees. He was a “C average“ student and average was how he felt about his life…not in a bad way, but in a safe way… in the middle where he was unlikely to attract too much attention. His public library card provided access to books and glimpses of the rest of the world and people beyond his average, middle life.

Dark thunder storms built up above Lake Michigan and blew over the sand dunes west of town. Down the streets they came whipping the trees of his neighborhood into a frenzy. If they came at night, his mother quietly entered his bedroom to close the big window. If they came during the day, his father took the children out onto the front porch to experience the storm and tell them how thunder and lightning worked, and how exciting it all was.

The boy spent his 14th summer painting their white with green trim clapboard home. His father didn’t like ladders or heights so he promised $200 if it was finished by the end of the summer – it was and he paid. His parents stood on the sidewalk watching him begin by climbing the long extension ladder to the peak above the second story. Somehow, he missed the hook… the bucket dropped to the ground sending droplets of paint into the air suspended for a moment…before splattering the green grass below with a world of white stars.

Meanwhile the stars traced their designated routes by night and by day – high above the house, trees, town, dunes, and lake. Eternity played out equally on all the street corners of Earth. Light and dark swept down all streets, past houses and people…time neither crept nor flew by… it just was all of the time…all over the place.

                                                                                                   -Charlie Brouwer, 2024

  Time it was, And what a time it was
                           It was . . . A time of innocence A time of confidences

                     Long ago . . . it must be . . . I have a photograph
                           Preserve your memories  They’re all that’s left you   

                                                                                                   -Paul Simon, 1968