EARL ALVIN HURLBURT SR.

An Indian Story: On Dying

Anything that has birth must also have a death.

The spirit is not born with a person, but is given at the time of birth. Therefore, because this spirit has no birth, it will never die.

No man knows where the spirit world is. The ancient people say it is beyond the pines. The pine trees are at the edge of the world. And beyond these trees is the path of the wind.

The spirit way begins there at the edge of the world. Among the stars and...

Bluebirds

He is the golden dust hanging under the light of a woodshop window,
the smell of sweet maple and oak
the woodpile stacked like bones behind the red shed,
peeling and faded. He's laughing,
wheezing like a cool breeze in July
the month his wife died.
Sometimes, he still asks where she went
maybe to town for eggs
or just outside picking green beans in the garden—
she's the other room…
she was just there.

He has a purple heart
and ...

My eulogy to our Dad:

For those that don't know me, I am Debbie, Earl's youngest daughter, or as Dad called me, Deb-bur-a. Born before me was my brother Jim, before him, Norma, before her, Laura, and before her, Earl, Jr.

Our father was born and raised in Bristol on June 14, 1923, coincidentally on Flag Day. Dad used to tell us when we were young that people hung the flag out to honor him, and we believed it.

Eventually, his family moved to the Hurlburt Farm on Ireland...