Post to the Host

Dear Mr. Keillor,

I write as a longtime fan, former fundamentalist, and fellow Midwesterner (including, from 1957 to 1963, Minnesotan). I was saddened to read your mention of discarding your papers. As a historian and someone who thought of writing your biography but was scared away by the fact that you had scared others away, I think it would be a huge mistake to divest yourself of your papers. I can’t believe that the University of Minnesota wouldn’t be interested in having them, but also places like Columbia (where I taught for 27 years), NYU or Fordham, in addition to dozens of other places. (I can’t speak for my present institution, Dartmouth College, but I suspect they’d be interested as well, and I’d be happy to make that argument to the powers that be.)

Your place on the literary landscape is far too important. Literary folks and historians deserve the opportunity to study one of our most prolific and influential writers.

Please reconsider.

Randall Balmer

Mr. Balmer, a man who’s written histories of Protestantism and evangelicalism and Mormonism in America, as you have, has too wide a sweep and lofty a view to bother with a minor Midwestern essayist and limericist unless you’re tired of wrestling with angels and want to spend a few months wading in the backwaters of American humor. If so, I wish you well. I was joking about throwing papers away. There’s too much stuff and most of it isn’t paper: it’s various discs and chips and clips rapidly obsolescing. I do wish someone would write a slim factual history of APHC that would give credit to the numerous persons who contributed to what was, I think, a wonderful and unique piece of work. But that’s a job for a journalist. Let us know where to send the two truckloads of materials and tell us if you want the RHUBARB sign and the Powdermilk banner and the rest of the stage set. GK

Dear Garrison Keillor,

I have thought of you and your wonderful radio show many, many times over the years. I am 51 years old and I grew up hearing your stories. It brought me great joy. It reminded me of sitting around with my parents and of home, heart and all the things that matter most in life. Thank you! In deepest gratitude, a forever fan ...

Rachel from Boston

Thank you, Rachel, and I have fond memories of Boston, of a show at Symphony Hall and also the time I addressed Phi Beta Kappans at Harvard and tried to sound smart, but most of all I remember Tanglewood and the crowd on the grass who stayed after the broadcast because they loved to sing. They knew the words to the same songs I know and I got to sing bass in that big choir. A high point in my checkered career. GK

Dear Garrison,

I was one of those kids that grew up listening to A Prairie Home Companion.

I’m from West Michigan, from a large Christian homeschool family. My parents, being back-to-the-land types, built a log house on a dirt road a little off the beaten path and did their best to shelter us from the seemingly rapid secularization of society during our formative years.

Now, as an adult of 34 years, the radio show and your writing have become very meaningful to me. I’ll try to explain why.

A few years ago, while on a road trip with my wife, traveling in a blizzard through Minnesota and Wisconsin back to Michigan, I had the thought to find some old episodes of your show as a fitting backdrop to the drive. Ever since then, I often turn to archival episodes, or to your audiobooks and feel a calm well-being and nostalgia — feelings I associate with holidays and cold weather, and the innocence and safety of my childhood hearth and home.

I spent many cold nights last winter jogging after dark through the snowy city sidewalks, feeling insulated as I listened to That Time of Year.

Your voice seems to trigger a half-formed memory — driving home with my family after a long day out somewhere, the sun is down and it’s dark. I am bundled up and buckled in, and it has grown quiet in our van as we all grow sleepy. My dad has switched on A Prairie Home Companion over the radio, and as the vehicle is jostled mildly down the highway, I drift in and out, and then to sleep. 

I find that sometimes we, WASP Midwestern young people, find ourselves wondering what exactly our heritage or cultural anchor is here in the melting pot. I think your work bridges that gap for me. The tales of long winters, and church gatherings, and early-generation Northern European settlers in the Midwest feels like heritage. It feels grounding.

I thought you might like to know that you have some younger fans who find joy in your stories.

And now, a limerick, if you please:

There once was a young man from Michigan,
his tendency sometimes to wish again,
for a fair prairie home,
with a companion show
on the radio, that he could listen in.

Sincerely,
Levi

I’m happy I got to be (without being aware of it) a distant invisible great-uncle to you and yours. It strikes me as magical. I grew up surrounded by relatives — we were evangelicals but not back-to-the-landers, my dad was glad to get off the farm and work on the railroad ­­— and their voices stay with me still, long after they’ve left this earth. My aunts in particular, Eleanor, Elizabeth, Josephine, and Ruth, who were daughters of a schoolteacher mother and a farmer dad who loved to read books as he cultivated his fields. My aunts were very well-spoken, talked in whole sentences, said what they thought as kindly as possible, and they loved to tell stories. I still miss them. Their respect meant the world to me back then and still does. GK

I sure miss you, Garrison. In my 72 years, seldom did I know a more reliable happiness than listening to A Prairie Home Companion on Saturdays. God bless you. I hope you are not too senile (my greatest fear for myself, you can surmise). Have a wonderful day/week/month/winter.

Dennis R. Carver

I’m a little stiff, I hold onto a railing while descending stairs, I do search for a word now and then, but I stay sharp by standing in front of audiences and talking off the top of my head. I intend to keep on. GK

Dear Garrison,

I’m so grateful that I don’t need to go through job interviews anymore. My nephew is looking for a new position, and after five grueling interviews, he learned he didn’t get the job. He says that multiple interviews are common these days. What do you think of this crazy process? And how would you answer the popular interview question, “Where do you see yourself in five years?”

Mavis S.

I see myself being 86 years old and making the best of it. As for job interviews, the crucial one was back in 1969 when I applied for a morning announcing shift at St. John’s University in Minnesota and got the job, only to discover that I’d been the only applicant. That’s the job that led to forty-some happy years in radio. Low-hanging fruit is not a bad place to begin. GK

I keep looking hopefully at the schedule, hoping to see a date here. I saw G.K. here in the earlier 2000s, but my husband has never gotten to see him. Please, please see if a performance can be planned for Birmingham, Alabama. The Alys Stephens Center, or another jewel like the Lyric, would be wonderful. 

Why not ask, right? 

Thank you! 

Janet Sasser 

Hoover, Alabama

Happy to come to Birmingham whenever someone gets the notion that there might be an audience for it. I’ll tell Kevin the agent to make a Janet discount. GK

Dear Garrison, 

Of course, Jesus laughed, but maybe those frigid Minnesota personalities didn’t amuse him.

Clay Blasdel

Buffalo

I hope he did too but maybe omniscience and laughter don’t fit comfortably. I don’t know. GK

GK,

I read your optimistic musings when waiting for a train in Manhattan and wondered about your read on Americans when you said, “Americans believe that opportunity and kindness can overcome barriers of race and religion.” Who are these abundantly kind “Americans” and where do they live? As a Presbyterian with a strong doctrine of sin with regard to the inherent goodness of humanity I currently see nearly half the country buying into the Republican efforts to use their religion as a weapon and their racist fears about cultural replacement to undermine public education and affirmative action in higher education. Maybe you are simply surrounded by more open-minded and open-hearted people in NYC than I am here in Texas or see going on in my home-state of Florida. I try to be realistic about American exceptionalism that is peddled by politicians and some churches today. However, I do get encouraged when I watch Steve Hartman’s reports on CBS and hear about the kindness that sometimes transcends old racial and religious boundaries that have afflicted America since its beginnings. So, have you seen the movie about 1920s Osage murders in Oklahoma? 

Ted Lundy

Cut and Shoot, Texas 

I haven’t seen that movie, Ted, and probably won’t. I’m drifting into what seems to be a peaceful and happy old age. My view of our country is limited to firsthand experience as a pedestrian in New York walking to church and back. The murderous animosities of history have faded a good deal as we’ve been exposed to a multitude of stories and voices and impressions and we’ve become a rather tolerant liberal society. My wife and I sat in our neighborhood Italian restaurant the other evening when an enormous flotilla of Harleys came roaring down Columbus Avenue like an invading army — hundreds of bikers, so loud we couldn’t converse for a couple minutes — and then it was quiet and conversation resumed. This is a peaceful Jewish/Asian/Hispanic/Misc. part of town with a few of us Episcopalians for seasoning but Genghis Khan comes through and we simply ignore it. GK

How can I get one of my favorite Americana music groups (Lonesome Ace Stringband) onstage at one of your events?

John Ciordas

I don’t do a variety show anymore, John, so I’m out of the booking business. I did find the Aces on YouTube and I’m very impressed by their Lonesomeness. They have authenticity in spades, fiddle, bass, banjo, and that backwoods vocalizing without a trace of pop or Broadway. I’m afraid they’re too pure for me. Too bacheloristic. I like to stand next to a tall woman and sing duets. GK

Dear Mr. Keillor,

Hello, I hope that you are well. My name is Megan and I have a very dear friend named Bryan who has been a fan of yours for many years. For over a year now, he’s been in a deep state of grief due to the loss of his brother who was his closest companion and best friend. I am worried about him. Do you have any advice or kind words you could spare for Bryan? I know that it would really, really make a difference in his life. God bless and best wishes.

Sincerely,
Megan

Bryan is fortunate to have you worrying about him, Megan, and I trust you’re keeping a close watch. There is such a thing as grief that can’t be spoken and isn’t susceptible to advice or therapy but simply must be endured until you come to the end of the valley. Prayer works for some people, music can help, work may be useful, but it resists easy answers. When I’ve reached out to persons in grief, I try to follow their cues, and listen carefully, and oftentimes what they want is simply to hear about normal daily business, what I’ve seen or been up to, what our mutual friends are doing, ordinary conversation. Bless you and carry on. GK

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Garrison Keillor celebrates the beauty of poetry and literature, along with significant dates from history, in his engaging 5-minute radio segments and podcasts known as The Writer’s Almanac. This delightful logo, featuring the name of the show handwritten by Garrison himself, is prominently displayed on the chest of a comfortable, 100% cotton, hunter green shirt, available in sizes ranging from S to XXL.

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