Anne Fox

I first met Anne when she joined my my creative writing classes at the Albany Senior Center through Vista College many years ago. What a plesure to have her there -- I learned much more from her than she ever learned from me. Even better (and as I learned was typical of her), we became friends and she was an intergral part of my life for many years -- supporting my writing, as she did for so many others, copyediting my novel, and always interested to hear the ups and downs of my teaching life, even after I moved to another college. In addition, Anne was a wonderful writer! Nothing made my day better than receiving a piece of her writing, whether it was in class, seeing it in a publication or if she just sent it to me through email. Anne had a wry eye and beautiful craft which she honed through much hard work and persistence. She set the same high standards for herself that she expected of others -- and she lived up to them. One of delights of knowing Anne was seeing how she became the center of the circle of whatever she was doing, though she would deny that in her modest way. We worked together on the Across the Generations anthologies, along with a rotating cast of characters who included Mark Greenside, Fred Setterberg, Frances Whitney, Steven Rubio and Chris Miller along with founders Verson Larsen and Iva Jex. Across the Generations was the first place where I saw Anne work her magic in a group. it was she who made the meetings a celebration of humor and good fun. There was so much laughter and teasing as we got important work done. Anne even organized a field trip to Mendocino for the Across the Generations gang so that we could eat Margaret's good food and be together. It was a delightful time in very special company. She was incredibly proud of her daughters and of Celeste. Whenever we would visit and I would ask how they were doing, she would get the oddest look on her face -- a mixture of utter delight, pride and restraint, because God forbid she should brag about them. But there was always a twinkle in her eye as she told me their latest doings and a singular warmth in her smile that was just for them. I am grateful for the honor of having Anne in my life for so long. Her belief in me as a teacher, writer and friend carried me through many a doubting hour. I will miss her terribly. Anne, forgive me for any typos or grammar goofs in this little write up and feel my love. If all this gushing about you makes you uncomfortable, I can only quote you to yourself: "I know you will hate this, but I don't care."