| Larry
Hamilton, author of the book, A Gathering of Angels,
submitted "The Legend
of Faith Hill" in our last installment of The Independent Gay
Writer. In this issue, Hamilton talks about the writing of that
story. From the outset, one of the intentions of this book revew and
writing magazine, was to present to readers and writers a vehicle "all
about books and writing." What better way to fulfill that moniker than
Hamilton's "About Faith Hill" as we get inside the writer's mind and
spirit. |
 Larry Dean Hamilton holds a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature from The University of Texas at Austin. Previously on the editorial staff of Time-Life Books, Larry was a key organizer and participant in Houston Gay Conference 1982. He led the way in establishing and organizing Matagorda County AIDS Awareness. Larry, a sometime poet, treks along a sandy shore, mindful of accumulated litter and debris—mindful of earlier footsteps. Larry's other books, besides A Gathering of Angels, include three books of poetry: Hotel Chelsea and the Sound, Late Autumn Debris, and Love is Orange. Larry can be reached by e-mail at larry@sigmalogobooks.com. More information about him and his work can be found at www.sigmalogobooks.com. |
 About
Faith Hill by Larry Dean Hamilton
A reader comments: “Faith Hill is a kind of bucolic, gay-themed Gone With The Wind, a romantic idealization of a place and a love frozen somewhere between reality and fantasy, and unfulfilled dreams...yours, perhaps? A gentle, overarching melancholy made me sense even from the beginning that it would be a tragedy...but satisfying. How did you happen to write it? How came the references to black “sharecroppers”? Are any of the characters out of your own experiences? Is Faith Hill reminiscent of a place you’ve known? Tell me about it.” For a writer, it is gratifying to hear words such as these, reflecting strong communication and feeling through a piece of writing. In the same breath, I am charged with the thought that perhaps a bit too much of me is revealed—one learns to guard his innermost feelings, more than wearing them on his sleeve. Writing is for me an intimacy. It is the place where I can safely express my inner self; thoughts and feelings; needs and desires. I say safely because my words on paper do not pose for me a threat; I do not risk betrayal. A love frozen somewhere between reality and fantasy, and unfulfilled dreams, to my estimation, captures a quality, the overall spirit of Faith Hill. Those words also froze me, capturing a quality, the overall spirit I perceive as my life. Writing is the lover I embraced who would not let go and the selfsame lover I would not let go. Faith Hill came from me, a story bringing with it realization and awareness I do not often choose to admit, rarely even share with those close to me. A love that is not beyond reality but one that has remained elusive—unfulfilled dreams is as near to unanswered prayers as I care to go. Faith Hill is written as an historical piece, events related by Christopher Lake, prior to his death, to Andrew, who later recounted to me the story of Jason Cam and Christopher Lake; and I put the story of Jason and Christopher into print. During the process, I spent considerable time with Jason and Christopher, becoming acquainted with each of them individually and together as a committed couple engaged in a serious relationship. I was made privy to their deeper thoughts and feelings, as well as to significant parts of their private life together—so much so that at times I sensed in myself a feeling of voyeurism. Through the two of them, I came to know Faith Hill, seen first through their eyes and then through my own. I came to understand something of Faith Hill, how a certain and special place can so epitomize a life or lives to which it is associated. Faith Hill holds that unique position, having been first for Jason a place of special dreaming, which he shared with Christopher; then, the two of them literally became part of the hill. It is difficult to exactly locate Faith Hill, both geographically and historically. The events related give clues, as well as do the personae. Faith Hill may not lend itself to location, either on a map or in our historical sense of time. For me, it seems to transcend both, reflective of the reader’s comment noted above; in that sense, Faith Hill becomes timeless in its quest to depict some¬thing of the basic nature of our human condition. There is a cycle of rising up and blossoming and of returning to the earth; much as the gold dug from the earth, refined and struck into coins, was returned to the earth through the bodies of Jason and Christopher. Symbolically, the otherwise precious metal had little or no value. What remained was Faith Hill and the memory it served to preserve—that of a love between two people and the celebration of their love by a larger community. High places, lofty places, are often associated with larger-than-life individuals and events, especially events of spiritual or divine significance. Faith Hill shares that pinnacle, though I do not suggest divinity in either of the men. Jason Cam certainly exhibits a deeply spiritual nature, rustic and rudimentary as he may be. There is a touch of the poet-philosopher in him, as seen in his first words to Christopher on their initial encounter, “The world makes grander sense from this position.” Christopher’s response, in retrospect, is prophetic: “The world slowed to an under¬standable pace; we, part of a larger scheme that seemed suddenly to take notice of our seed-like selves.” It is virtually in this same position and with this same intuitive awareness that, later, we last see Jason and Christopher. An innocence attends Jason and Christopher. There is a naturalness with which they come to awareness of their feeling for each other, and an ease with which they act on their natural impulse. Their deepening feeling for one another is accepted by Jason’s parents, Frannie and John. Their relationship not only is accepted but is celebrated by descendants of African Freed¬men at Vinegrove. Later, as people flock from the surrounding countryside to pay respects to Jason, we see that Jason’s and Christopher’s relationship evidently was accepted and celebrated by the larger community as well. It seems to me worth noting that, more than their relationship, what was celebrated was the degree and depth of love they shared with each other. Such love I believe shines forth to those in its path, is inescapable. The fact of their same-sex status did not negate the true capacity of human feeling. In fact, it may likely be that at such a time there was little or no sense of same-sex partners, certainly not to the degree known in contemporary society. We further see two other instances of nonjudgmental attitude, in the person of the doctor who attended Jason and in the person of the lady whose child it was Jason saved. In sharp contrast is the attitude of the preacher in Riley’s Corner, who took it upon himself to visit Momma Frannie with condemnation of “common catamites.” A similar attitude is exhibited by Miss Hilary Bell, who exposed herself unannounced in Jason’s and Christopher’s room, discovering them together on the bed, unclad, in amorous embrace—prompting her to pronounce Jason “a wicked and depraved sodomite.” The same attitude is dramatically shown at the time Jason’s cortege moves through Riley’s Corner, barred by the preacher and the town’s self-righteous from entry to the church and burial in “Holy Soil.” To the charge that I as author have set an ax upon the wheel to grind, my defense is that discrimination, damnation, and negative judgment against same-sex affection/attraction individuals comes virtually exclusively from the church and religious community, fueled by and firmly grounded in Biblical Scripture—albeit grossly mis¬translated and misapplied. Christopher seemed disturbed by such accusations. He relates, “Jason thought it best we not discuss it, using such words we didn’t know, let alone under¬stand.” This points up a decided limitation to language, the very means by which humans communicate. What Jason and Christopher experienced together through their love for each other was a natural expression for them, of no great alarm to others—except when saddled with vague, incendiary terminology that not only carried a sense of foreboding but was also unintelligible. In this instance, language failed as communication or expression; it became weaponry of elitist, self-appointed vigilantes. Overall, Jason’s and Christopher’s story retains its innocence, even touched as it was and derailed by sudden tragedy. That it remains at its core innocent moves the story into the arena of legendary status. Throughout history, mankind has been moved by stories and myths of those who suffer outside their own doing, heroes who are not destroyed by a wayward turn of events. More than this, I think, we are moved by the depth of compassion and love between Jason and Christopher, by the unabashed and unaffected simplicity of their love, by its purity, and by the forthrightness with which they carry themselves. We recognize in them our own deep need and through their story we connect with a larger spirit. We are, after all, born into innocence. Christopher, in relating his and Jason’s story to Andrew, moves into a subconscious state, one that picks up details from a later time in his narrative and links them to what is then being related in a sense of present time. This is most dramatically noticed the times he reverts to the train ride. “We are traveling together, me and Jason; I, at his side; this, a silent trip—Jason seldom given to great bouts of speech interrupting our time together. He is silent today; I, as quiet as our first meeting, an early summer’s day, upon Faith Hill.” Christopher describes the motion of the train; he is hardly aware of other sensation or feeling, except that being consciously un¬aware his subconscious has registered sensory details that spill from him even as he says he was “hardly aware.” One startling example is “the distant landscape passing obliquely through a window framing no thought.” Christopher likely refers to the passing landscape seen through the window of the train, “framing no thought.” On one level, he indicates that he had no thought; but, recalling that the metal box in which Jason’s body was sealed had “a glass window to frame his face,” gives added dimension to “a window framing no thought.” Christopher’s relating of his being “hardly aware” carries also a double reading: “hardly aware” on a conscious level at the time the event was taking place, but “hardly aware” of his present surroundings in his sub¬conscious state as the past moves vividly into his present memory again. He describes a mist of rain as “a cold, damp breath filling the air,” reflecting his description of Jason’s gift of love, “born into him and breathed out of him, like a breath of life.” Christopher relates, “Faith Hill draws us back, though I do not yet know the way.” Christopher refers to the train ride, at which time he did not know that Jason would be denied burial in the town churchyard and that Jason would finally rest again upon Faith Hill. But he also contemplates his own end: as Faith Hill drew Jason, it also draws me, “though I do not yet know the way.” Christopher’s narrative takes on a universal nature, the movement through life’s path. “Blending into Faith Hill, our lives, our truth; swaying with a steady motion, unchecked, unsure; traveling on this road, not quite connected to the earth.... This road will end and a slow wagon begin.” Following the accident, Jason was taken to the hotel, to the front parlor “where, earlier we waited for an uncertain stage, me and Jason.” Here is to be found probably the darkest irony of their story. Before going to the stage depot, while awaiting word of the long-overdue coach, Jason and Christopher had waited in the front parlor of the hotel. Now, in critical condition, once again “we waited for an uncertain stage, me and Jason.” Life cannot be controlled, cannot be fore¬seen, cannot be predicted with any degree of certitude—except the certain knowledge that ultimately “Faith Hill draws us back.” Faith Hill attests to my profound belief that even during earlier times in our society, times before there was a visible GLBT community, same-sex individuals found attraction and affection for one another, may have experienced what we today recognize as falling in love with one another, and likely may have engaged in relationships accordingly. Such relationships seem to have gone for the most part unnoticed and largely undocumented. The poet Walt Whitman (1819-1892), among his works, noted for his expression of “the love of companions,” self-published Leaves of Grass in 1855, a second edition in 1856, and additional editions during the several years thereafter. Whitman settled in Washington, D.C., in 1862, working first in hospitals, where he cared for Civil War soldiers. He took a job as a clerk with the Department of the Interior, but he was fired from his job when Secretary of the Interior James Harlan discovered him to be the author of Leaves of Grass, a work Harlan deemed offensive. Leaves of Grass in its complete form was published in 1882. There is ample documentation that a gay culture existed during the 1920s, but it was not until the 1960s gave rise to an emerging gay community that the capacity of same-sex individuals to engage in love-based relation¬ships began to be more fully realized. Gay as an identifiable force “took to the streets” the summer of 1969, following the Stonewall Riots in New York’s Greenwich Village, bursting forth with a hitherto unknown energy—Gay Liberation. A new and emerging community became part of the national fabric. In the final three paragraphs of Faith Hill, the author steps forward to bring up-to-date the story of Jason Cam and Christopher Lake. Economic concerns—that is, the overemphasis on acquisition and possession of material wealth—made a ghost town of Riley’s Corner. Dr. J.C. Colvin, retired educator, posits that unrestrained corporate greed is the newly defined root of all evil! The church that refused Jason came to a fiery end, engulfed in flames from thunderbolts. Is there a sug¬gestion that symbolically a lesson can be learned? Vinegrove continued to thrive, due it may be surmised to its inhabitants’ commitment to their common humanity. With the exception of Andrew, all of the persons connected to Jason and Christopher during their lifetimes are deceased. Andrew continues to keep alive the memory of Jason and Christopher, through an annual Pride Ceremony. A reader is left to his own devices regarding Andrew—if it be necessary to attach a label. One may, without regard for his own personal preference, celebrate with others in their love. We are one community. I can attest to that; I shed tears with Christopher Lake. “Faith Hill remains...a legend and a truth and a story carved in stone.” It is the very real, the most basic, the singular truth of humanity. A final word to ensure that I have not misled: Faith Hill is entirely a story of fabrication. None of the personae are real persons and none of the locales presented actually exist. A writer will draw from the well of his own experience; the drink he takes is made of many droplets. I cannot entirely and with all truth state that Faith Hill, Jason Cam and Christopher Lake do not exist, nor can I say they never existed. They live within me, a vibrant part of my inner self. Their lives and their love are as real to me as is Faith Hill—the Faith Hill that may one day come to exist for others. There is much satisfaction I derive from my time spent upon Faith Hill, with Jason Cam and Christopher Lake. To know that they can still exist, that love remains alive, is the next best thing to an unanswered prayer. My faith, too, remains strong, upon Faith Hill. — Larry Dean
Hamilton Copyright © 2004 Larry Dean Hamilton. All rights reserved.
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