Hello Everyone! I hope you had a great National Poetry Month, and your writing is flowing right along. I will be taking an opportunity, about once a month, to put a spotlight on poets who have made an impact on Auburn and beyond. To start this off, it feels like the only true choice is to spotlight Dick Brugger, our first Auburn Poet Laureate.
Meet Dick Brugger
Richard Karl Brugger was a former Inn Keeper, Jesuit Priest, comedian, youth worker, poet, husband and father. Dick was born on April 3, 1929, and grew up in Bucks County Pennsylvania. He went to a two- room schoolhouse and grew up in the Pipersville Inn, run by his parents, mother, Ida Brugger, and father Franz Brugger. He graduated college with a degree in Hotel and Hospitality from Penn State and later became a Jesuit priest on June 8, 1966.
Dick preached all over the world. It didn’t matter if he was preaching at the Vatican or Notre Dame or in Vancouver BC, he loved saying mass. He met Lela Brugger in 1976 in Vancouver BC and fell in Love. It was a difficult decision to leave the priesthood but he was also honored and excited to become a father. Dick moved with his pregnant wife to Washington state and got a job at Auburn Youth Resources where he was the Executive Director until 1997. He helped so many people in Auburn, and made AYR a place of hope, change, and love. He also raised two children, Josh and Jessie.
Dick was Citizen of the Year in Auburn, WA in 1986. The local paper summed up his civic value: “Dick is truly a dedicated person…We, here in Auburn believe that Dick Brugger is Auburn’s treasure.” Later, Dick had a day named after him in the City of Auburn and became Auburn’s first Poet Laureate from 2012-2015. He loved words and used them to celebrate those he loved and to fight for his beliefs. His words are etched into the streets of Auburn and into the hearts of those who knew him.
I met Dick through his involvement with Striped Water Poets, and every one of us hoped he would describe our poems with his favorite word, “Wicked!” I heard a lot of wicked’s over the years, but would truly love to hear a few more. He was a genuinely nice human being, a great poet, and will be truly missed.
Dick Brugger Poetry:
Do Something!
My mother waged an on-going war against
the depravity of inactivity. Putting it positively
it played out vociferously: “Do something!”
Doing nothing was akin to the most heinous of sins.
It had dire consequences for a New Hire
at my family’s Pipersville Inn.
I’d cringe when I’d see a young waitress
audaciously sit down.
For my brother Bob, an expert writer,
it was precise:
“Robert, write something!”
For me it was simply the generic
“Richard, Do something”.
She or we never knew exactly
what I would do or be.
Over the years
I became a Roman Catholic priest
grew a youth and family counseling agency
developed shelters for runaway kids,
was named a Citizen of the Year
and comfortably retired.
Yet, my mother’s words
constantly haunt me.
Nature
I have a friend
who understands nature
holistically. Tells you about the seasons
soils, forests, streams, animal life,
all that God has given us, rationally
relationally, in semi-scientific terms. My mother
knew nature with Oohs and Ahs
and Dear God, Richard look at that!
Don’t ask me
the name of that tree, the hybrid of flower
the composition of rock, the whys
and wherefores of the tides
the cause of monumental landslides
I’ll tell you though the feel of a gentle wind
the vastness of the open sea, the pleasure I get
at looking at California Oaks on golden
brown hill slopes. My mother’s in me.
On a Saturday Morning
Seagull sounds, breeze off Burrard Inlet seep in lone
window, sheer gauze curtains flutter. Rectory kitchen
narrow rectangular drab, basic appliances, table,
three chairs. Greek freighter captain, suave, totally
at ease mesmerizes Lela and me, tales of the world,
the sea, he deferential to the priest in me. I’m nervous,
Lela, well traveled herself, naturally engages him,
I’m proud how she can vie. I believe that he’s caught up
in his engrossing tale and am unaware he’s observing us.
As he leaves, he takes me totally by surprise, “You
two are in love, aren’t you?” I’m thunderstruck.
Great reminder of how important Dick was to our community, and thank you for sharing some of his words. He is missed!!!