James Baker Hall

Please accept my sincere condolences on the death of your dear love one. “And no resident will say: I am sick…” Isa 33. In this time of a loss of someone special in our lives be comforted to know God cares and will help us endure through his love with comfort and peace. We miss this talented person whom many no doubt respected and admired.

I remember a wonderful afternoon with Jim at Storrs,Ct. After reading Yates,his grand tootings, etc. and wondered what had happened to him. Sorry to hear he is gone
; glad to have knon him if only briefly.
StephennJones,Noank,ct.

In the spring 2000 workshop, Jim convinced me that writing mattered in ways I hadn't imagined. Utterances from the nighttime mind, he called our work, which implied their sincerity, mystery, and lack of finish. I still hear him encouraging and see those arms raised to the ceiling in praise of words written honestly. He taught me to not to over-think these words, not to believe in them, not to live without them.

As generous as brilliant, a combination that endures.

My husband & I attended a farm auction on the coldest day in Jan, 2005. The auction crowd consisted of interested buyers and curious neighbors. Amoung the latter were Jim & Mary Ann. Their main interest was to pray, hope, encourage the buyers to keep the farm whole. We must have been guided by the prayers since we purchased the farm down the road from Jim & Mary Ann's beloved home. We continue to care for the farm in our best KY tradition and in this way honor our neighbors.

I went to high school in Louisville, where my English teacher Cia White knew James. He came during our poetry unit and workshopped a piece of mine. Afterward, he said 'Harding, I've got this poetry class down at UK, why don't you come find me?'And so I did. Seven years later, the two semesters I took his class before he retired were the highest points of my life in Lexington, and as a writer. I love the story of Jim's life and finding his way. Having known him makes me feel grand. He...

While thinking of writing this and finding it difficult to approach this topic, I remembered one of the early , things Jim guided me with. I had written a letter to him, saying, I had found it difficult, to write him that casual letter, because I felt the pressure of his critique on anything I wrote. He wrote back, starting out with, "David, you having me at the top of something, you are at the bottom of, doesn't do either of us any good". His succinct logic, put that to rest. Now, I...

I studied poetry and fiction with Jim in the 1980's at U.K. Classes began @ 3:30, that's when we started drinking red wine in plastic cups. Sometimes, by 5:30, my head was on the desk. I loved his instruction, his sincerety, his wit and his voice. Mary Ann, I'm so, so sorry for this ending. Let beautiful memories quide you to a healing place. I have a hawk bell for you. Peace