Remembering Lee Francis III

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He had a vision. Built it over two decades. Born of tragedy and inspiration, the way all good visions often come about. He was dedicated and tireless in his promotion of Native writers and storytellers for over ten years. He was a poet and an educator. Dr. Francis, doctors one and all. He was an academic and a mentor; a father and a warrior. A cigarette in hand, he would spend hours, days, years, asking questions, provoking, theorizing, dreaming. He was a simple boy from the Pueblo of Laguna, from an old New Mexico family that traced its roots to the wild west days in a baren landscape under a saphire sky. He loved truckstops, he loved to drive, he loved to write, he loved to try and make the world better. He enjoyed good company and friendships forged across the country. He traveled from sea to shining sea and back again, countless times just to see the many sunrises, sunsets, faces, friends. He tried to create something that would allow others to share in his joy. An organization that helped spread stories to everyone, so they would not be forgotten, so his friends would not be forgotten, so he would not be forgotten. From five to fifty to three-hundred, he started with one lonley file drawer of like-minded compatriots. He built a family. He loved the middle of the night to drink coffee, buckets of coffee, to think and solve all the problems around him. He loved to solve problems. He loved to think. He loved to tell stories. Of his family, his travels, his heartbreak, his triumph and his friends. He loved to hear stories. So many stories in this world. He told so many stories throughout his life. A poet, scholar, teacher, mentor, father, husband, storyteller and friend.

He had a vision. One amazing vision.

A Poem From Lee III

Homeplace

At the center of creation
I stand and bear witness
On this St. Ann's Day

At the edge of blue mountain
I raise my hands in thanks
to the mothers
    who have cared
    for the people
    who have cared
    for me
and I sing an honor song
    to our mother
and I sing an honor song
    to our sisters
and I sing an honor song
and I sing an honor song.

from On the Good Red Interstate

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