Julie Alger, Amherst Writer
Julie wrote many poems and stories, especially in the last few years of her life. Had she been able to stay with us longer, she certainly would have been able to share more of her work with us. She developed breast cancer in the spring of 1992, which metastatized to her bones by the summer of 1994. She passed over Amherst, Massachusetts on December 29, 1994.
Born in Norfolk, Virginia, March 13, 1927, she was the daughter of Rear Admiral James Albert and Marjorie (Hill) Alger. She was raised in Palo Alto, California and relocated to the east in 1968.
A freelance writer and editor, she published many stories, poetry and haiku and was working on a novel.
She was on the Steering Committee of the Western Massachusetts chapter of the National Writers Union; Past Executive Board member of the University Staff Association at the University of Massachusetts; Amherst Town Meeting member from Precinct 10; and member of the Ad Hoc Opera Company. She belonged to Amherst Writers and Artists, Friends of Amherst Stray Animals, NAACP, National Organization for Women, Friends of the Jones Library, Friends of the Fine Arts Center and was an enthusiastic participant in the Internet community. She truly loved living in "Emily Dickinson's town".
She graduated from San Jose State College in 1966 and did graduate work at Simmons College and the University of Massachusetts. She attended writing workshops including the Mount Holyoke Writers' Conferences and was a writer in residence at the Cummington Community of the Arts in the summer of 1992.
She leaves a daughter, Victoria Alger White, a brother Captain David M. Alger of Mercer Island, WA, two nieces and a nephew, an ex-husband, John White of Tustin, CA and many dear friends including David Rice, Michele Morris and Dawn Josefski.
My eulogy to Julie; by Victoria Alger White
Most of you are familiar with the progression of Julie's battle against cancer. She entered the nursing home early in July and always planned, and worked toward returning to work.
In November the cancer spread to her brain. Julie took a three week vacation from her mind until treatments brought her back. After that she had a strong sense of unfinished business, including her novel and those she wished to see a final time. One of those was a Cambodian woman Julie had tutored many years ago. After a bit of work, I located the woman and arranged a visit.
December tenth the woman, her son, and a Buddhist monk (who was the woman's former husband) visited Julie. It was a very moving experience, especially when Julie related to the monk her vision of life as a wheel. She said that her time on the wheel was over and it was time to step off.
Later that evening in a telephone conversation with me, she quoted Woody Allen; saying that she wasn't afraid of dying, she just didn't want to be there when it happened. One of my pets was making some kind of noise in the background and we began discussing the pet and those that we had shared our lives with since 1959. Julie always loved animals and recognized their unique and definitive spirits within.
The last few years she didn't have any pets of her own, but had written about various spirits within animals. One story (The Hired Paw) was about a bear who whuffled - her word for the sound he made - and also blended, or mixed spirit and soul with other beings.
Anyway at the end of our conversation she said write a poem called Whiskers on the Wheel. I thought she's the poet not me!
But after I came home from helping to carry her body out of the
nursing home, this poem came out.
Whiskers on the Wheel
I love you
and you love me
eternally.
The wheel edged forward
and you
brought me to the light.
The wheel ticked along,
advancing.
The whiskers entered
our lives
and left
again and again.
Always we loved them.
Sometimes we noticed
the wheel.
More often ignored
or
worse
avoided it.
The last six months
we watched
and felt
the wheel.
Sometimes ticking too fast
or too slow.
We loved
we shared
we learned finally
to love each other
truthfully and with Spirit.
The here and now
whiskers
patiently waited.
But we learned about whuffling
and blending
with spirits with us now.
And as you
had brought me
to the light
I tried to help you
back to it.
So now, tonight,
at my table,
I sit with the eagle feather
you held toward the light
just a few hours ago.
--Victoria Alger White
