4.17.2016  An April Evening with Paul Ruffin, 1941–2016

Dave Parsons

It was a notable if not historic event: seven Texas state poets laureate traveling to The Woodlands campus of Sam Houston State University for a reading and signing of Cooking with the Texas Poets Laureate (Texas Review Press, 2015), edited by Elizabeth Ethredge and five other of Dr. Paul Ruffin’s other former graduate students.

From left, Texas poets laureate Jan Seale, Dave Parsons, Cleatus Rattan, Paul Ruffin, Larry Thomas, Karla Morton, and Alan Birklebach. Photo by Lisa Thomas.

Though it was unique and historic to have so many poets laureate together on one stage, it was precisely the sort of enterprise that Paul Ruffin had been engendering since 1976 when he founded the Texas Review. Paul brought transformation and exuberance to Texas literature, discovering talented writers and publishing them, hundreds of them, many for the first time. In fact, there are few states in the U.S., if any, that are not home to a writer published by Paul. It would be only three hours or so after a warm, lively after-reading party with the laureates and editor of the cookbook that Paul passed away at his country-style home on the outskirts of Willis, a small town about forty minutes north of the SHSU campus in The Woodlands.

All his fellow laureates were stunned by the sudden loss so closely following such a jubilant gathering. Jan Seale remarked, “He was a giant in small press publishing in Texas and seemed to have a real gift for discovering emerging writers.”

Karla Morton wrote, “If we are lucky in this life, we sometimes get the privilege to experience greatness to know that person who, even in their daily activities of breathing, working and living, are doing it in such a remarkable way, we cannot help but take notice, cannot help but step back and marvel. All it took with Paul Ruffin was one meeting, one face-to-face encounter, and you would always remember him. Always. That is how it is with legends. Life is lived on their terms—with a frying pan and a six-shooter; a good pair of boots, strong coffee, and stronger whiskey.  . . . As many will completely understand, he asked for my work and I offered it with two palms turned upward in gratitude. He knew his business. He passed it forward. He had no time, and much less desire, for mediocrity. He was deeply respected. He was deeply loved. And it is this Love that we carry with us into the next life. Who he was lifted us all, and will continue to lift the next seven generations. It was my great honor in this life to call him friend.”

Alan Birkelbach harkened back to his first encounters. “I know Paul had a great evening with us. And we had a great evening with him. It should speak volumes that an idea he had, Poets Laureate in the Kitchen, generated such an electric evening. We all seemed to be full of light that night, like we all wanted to do our best, like we all wanted to please Paul for the honor he had given us. And maybe that type of honor and respect is what I always felt for him. When I became more serious about my writing, and even after I got the laureate title, I always wanted to try and impress Paul. He had an incredible wisdom and a literary insight. I remember once, years ago, I did a reading with him and I was still desperate trying to impress him. I read several new poems and afterwards he came up to me and paid me a huge compliment. He said, “If those poems are not already in a book—then I want to see them. Do you have a manuscript ready?” Just like that I felt like I had proven myself. But that was the way I remembered Paul. He was gracious, knew more people than I was ever gonna know, was a better writer than I was ever gonna be—yet he accepted me and my work. Through the lifting up of other writers he kept the flame of Texas letters alive and bright!”

Cleatus Rattan also was brought back to his first days of knowing Paul. “I was much shocked and depressed at the news of Paul’s death,” he said. “Never occurred he would ever die. He was full up to and above the brim with life. He had much left to write. The first time I met Paul was 1976, and we threw the football around for an hour or more. If he caught the pass, he laughed; if he missed he laughed and said, ‘Let’s try that one again.’ Much fun.” He wanted to do well at everything. Another memory I have of Paul is the time I found a scurrilous article about him. I was mad, my blood pressure was up. He read it and laughed and said, ‘Who are they?’ Meaning he just didn’t care. He was cool. I think I will wear a black arm band this week in Austin. I miss him already, and my priest will mention him in our prayers for a month. I will pray for him until I die. As a Marine, I saw many friends die, but we expected that. This hurts because he still had so much to do. I loved him.”

Larry Thomas, like myself, was lucky enough to come to know Paul well through the winning of the Texas Review Poetry Prize. Larry recounted, “My first encounter with Paul Ruffin was my discovery of the Texas Review in the 1980s. From the outset, I was impressed with everything about the journal: the literary stature of its contributors; the meticulous manner in which it was edited; and its impeccable presentation of the literary poetry, fiction, and reviews it brought to the light of print. In early 1989, I submitted a batch of poems to the journal, and my poem, ‘In Maine,’ was accepted for publication. I subsequently became a regular contributor. My first book-length collection of poetry, Amazing Grace, was awarded the 2001 Texas Review Poetry Prize and went on to win the 2003 Western Heritage Award. My second book-length collection of poems, Where Skulls Speak Wind, was the 2004 Texas Review Poetry Prize recipient and went on to win the 2004 Violet Crown Book Award. I have no doubt that these two volumes of poetry, both awarded prizes and published by Dr. Ruffin, played a very large part in my appointment as the 2008 Texas Poet Laureate. Paul Ruffin was not only a distinguished educator but also a rare man of letters. His passing has left a palpable void in Southern and Texas letters.”

Paul Ruffin was 2009 Texas state poet laureate, Texas State University System professor, and Distinguished Professor of English at Sam Houston State University. He was founder and director of the Texas Review and the Texas Review Press. Ruffin, a graduate of the Center for Writers of the University of Southern Mississippi, never lost his Southern roots; however, along with his new post he embraced his new home in Texas, eventually growing to become a Texas literary icon. It was only fitting that he would become a faculty member at a university named for another powerful Texas and Southern personality, Sam Houston.

When he founded the Texas Review forty years ago, no one could have surmised that he would grow the journal to have its own press, and become what the Huffington Post called “one of the most successful and dynamic small presses in the United States.”

Paul brought forth a brilliant Southern voice in his own writing, which included two novels, five collections of short stories, four books of essays, and seven collections of poetry. He edited or co-edited fifteen other books, including Norton’s Introduction to Literature and Introduction to Poetry and Harcourt Brace’s College Creative Writing Handbook. In addition, he produced a weekly newspaper column, “Ruffin-it,” which has appeared in newspapers throughout Texas, Mississippi, and Alabama. Ruffin first gained national attention with the publication of The Man Who Would Be God, a collection of short stories that The New York Times Book Review lauded: “Ruffin’s poignant stories linger in the memory like the scent of wood smoke—or gun smoke—on the skin.” Library Journal wrote, “Ruffin has an ear for language and dialogue and writes with a hardened American elegance.”

He was acknowledged for the high quality of his poetry as well as his prose. He published more 1,500 poems. James Dickey called his poetry “open, fresh, strong, believable, and imaginatively resourceful . . . personal and convincingly human, and, though friendly and likeable, also aware of the dark possibilities . . .  worth anyone’s time, to read and learn from.” Of his collection that won the Mississippi Poetry Prize, X. J. Kennedy wrote: “A masterful storyteller, Paul Ruffin proves himself in Circling to be a rare lyricist as well. These are powerful poems that challenge a reader’s emotions. While crafted with deep knowledge of poetry past, Ruffin’s poems carry the fresh scent of open land, rather than the smell of the library.” After being recognized as Texas poet laureate, he was featured on Voice of America, National Public Radio, and many other national programs.

Ruffin was born in Millport, Alabama, and grew up on Sand Road, five miles outside of Columbus. After serving in the United States Army Infantry, he attended Mississippi State University, earning a degree in English. He taught at Hamilton High School, Lee High School, and Caldwell High School before entering graduate school, where he received his Ph.D. Soon after, he moved to Texas to take a position at Sam Houston State University, where he taught until April 13, 2016, the day of his passing. As I was saying good night to Paul on Tuesday evening after walking him and his lovely wife, Amber, to their car, I alluded to how, despite our age, how unexpectedly busy we all were. He said, “yep, and I’m gonna be seventy-four on May fourteenth.”

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