The Ladies Page

By Mae Baber
Published on September 1, 1971

Brandon Wisconsin R R-2 Zip-53919

The bright-eyed smile that greeted us from the front cover of
the July-August issue of IRON MEN ALBUM has stayed with me since
the arrival of the magazine. Surely here was a man who had a great
anticipation into age. Anna Mae’s tribute is an excellent piece
of writing. She covered, so well, the spirit of a dedicated man,
with an earthly goal, yes, even several of them , and yet one knew
upon meeting him, that eternal things were of the utmost importance
to him. Elmer Ritzman was a WHOLE man, ‘thoroughly furnished
unto all good works.’ II Timothy 3:17.

It has been my privilege to meet another lady of this caliber
just two weeks ago. This year the National Federation of State
Poetry Societies held their meeting at Edgewood College in Madison.
Now there was only one drawback to my going. I do not enjoy driving
in Madison. It took some extra prayer to give me the courage to
start on my way. The traffic was not too heavy on that Wednesday. I
was into the city within an hour and a half. But then I ran into a
detour on Regent Street. A DETOUR IN THE MIDDLE OF ALL THAT
TRAFFIC! My heart sank into my shoes. I couldn’t stop anywhere,
for there was no place to stop. Finally I crawled into a parking
lot to think, asked a man some questions, but he was from out of
town as well. So, mustering all my courage I started back into the
melee. If I could find University Avenue I thought I could find the
place I was going.

Between a Standard Station attendant, and one old gentleman who
was screaming his displeasure at the neighbor children, I finally
found Edgewood College. What a peaceful place in the midst of
bedlam! I drove into this haven of rest with a deep sigh of
gratitude. I had been in Madison an hour before I reached my
destination. I had begun to wonder why I had come. The next morning
I woke up half sick. By that evening I was considering going home.
I thought I would attack those city streets at five A.M. But by the
time five A.M. arrived I was feeling better.

It was the evening of that day that I met Ruth Mary Fox, and I
began to appreciate why all the struggle. Here was another saintly
bright-eyed elderly person who literally took me under her wing.
She gave me more encouragement on my poetic road than I have had
for years. Here was a Professor Emeritus of Humanities who asked to
buy one of my few remaining poetry books. Her comments were the
most exhilarating thing I had encountered in years of toil and
frustration.

This lovely lady of letters invited me to her apartment, and
even showed me her library. I have an invitation to ‘spend a
day or two with her soon.’ She has been the teacher of thirty
thousand students at the University there and her knowledge of
literature surely must be most comprehensive.

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