Address given at the Dedication of the Will Carleton Poorhouse

October 21, 1989 - Dr. J.A. Fallon

As we gather here on this stormy, wintry day, pleased with the large turnout as we are—we should reflect for a moment on three very important ladies who would like tp be here today, but couldn’t make it.

First: Sarah Dimmers, my wife’s mother, one of the founders of the Hillsdale County Historical Society, who became interested in the study of local history after reading a chapter of my doctoral dissertation which related the remarkable development of the Bay View Campground near Petosky.

Second: Doris Mauck Friedricks, who remembers vividly visits Will Carleton made to Sunnycrest when her father, Joseph Mauck was President of Hillsdale College. When Will came to dinner, it always took at least three hours, because he kept everyone roaring with laughter at his hilarious stories.

Finally, Lillian Comar, who introduced me to the work of Will Carleton in the Carr Memorial  Library many years ago.

Will Carleton: Poet of the People

On such a day as this, it would be well to keep in mind the speeches given by Edward Everett and Abraham Lincoln at the dedication of the Cemetery at Gettysburg on November 19, 1863. 

You may recall that Mr. Everett, one of the great orators of his generations, spoke for 2 hours on that occasion, while President Lincoln spent only 2 or 3 minutes to get his point across. With your comfort and convenience in mind, I will try to emulate President Lincoln today. To those who are saying to themselves: Fallon, you’re no Abe Lincoln!, I will only reply—of course not. There was only one Abe Lincoln—unfortunately for our beloved country.

Unfortunately for us today as well, there was only one Will Carleton. As rarely before in our history we need today a man of Will’s integrity, his vision, his basic, fundamental goodness, his powerful Christian commitment.  We need another Carleton to remind us of what we stand for and what we would be willing to die for. We need someone who could express the Judeo-Christian message as beautifully as he did through his poetry and through the life he led … and express that message so clearly and forcefully that no one could fail to understand it, and act on it

Will Carleton was a man for all seasons.  Teacher, poet, author, lecturer, publisher, mid-wife of ideas in the tradition of Socrates, he was a true Renaissance Man.

Although his critics were mean and at times even vicious, in all of my years of studying the man, I found almost no one who could be called a sworn enemy.

It is ironic that when the critics were at their loudest, Carleton’s volumes of poetry were selling the best. The records of his publisher, Harper and Brothers, show that just under 600,000 copies of his books were purchased by an enthusiastic public. 

If you were a friend of Will Carleton, you were a friend for life. Indeed, the friendships he made as a school-boy and as a student at Hillsdale College became life-long relationships. His loyalty to his Alma Mater was legendary. He often said that he didn’t know what would have become of him if it hadn’t been for Hillsdale College. Probably, like most of his contemporaries in Lenawee County, he might never have traveled more than 25 miles from home during his lifetime!

From the age of 8, when he witnessed the laying of the cornerstone of Central Hall, until his death at the age of 67, Carleton carried on a love affair with the college. After graduating in 1869, he served as President of the Alumni Association, served for many years on the college Board of Trustees, and all of his adult life was an active fund-raiser. One of the major student loan funds at Hillsdale bears his name, and in recent years more than $300,000 has been made available to needy students.

The community of Hillsdale and the college have joined in many celebrations such as this. In June 1925, there was a ground breaking ceremony held here to prepare for the installation of the boulder out front which was dedicated that October. On the one hundredth anniversary of Will Carleton’s graduation from Hillsdale, in 1969, another memorial program was held in Phillips Auditorium on the campus. On all of these occasions, selections of Carleton’s poems were read and he was eulogized by his friends and neighbors from here and from Lenawee County. Thanks to the hard work and devotion of the Hillsdale County Historical Society, we now have a more permanent memorial to Carleton and a place to celebrate future anniversaries.

An equally impressive celebration of Carleton’s birthday was held in Detroit on Oct. 19, 1930. First, the Detroit Free Press paid tribute with a full page feature on his life and work, then WJR radio produced an hour-long program with a glee club, readings of Carleton’s poetry, and a poem written by Eddie Guest especially for the occasion. Entitled simply, “Will Carleton,” the poem makes an excellent conclusion to my remarks today.

Will Carleton

by Edgar A. Guest

He’d want no fancy tribute, for he wasn’t one for style.

He’d rather have some Betsey end a quarrel with a smile;

And he’d rather have the poor house closed and desolate and bleak.

Than a lot of weary mothers dwelling there from week to week,

All wondering in sadness would their children think to come, 

Or would they fail this Sunday ‘cause the trip was troublesome.

Will Carleton wouldn’t ask us for a monument of stone,

And he wouldn’t stop to listen to a eulogy high-flown.

He was just all nervous and conscience, keenly sensitive to pain,

And it hurt him to see meanness, for it went against his grain.

So he battled in his fashion not for reputation smart,

But to win the world to pity for the troubled human heart.

What he wrote was true in his day and right now it’s just as true;

His lines still tell the story of the thoughtless acts we do.

Of the selfishness and meanness and the carelessness of men,

And t’would do us all a lot of good to read them through again.

So when it comes to tributes to Will Carleton’s memory,

If he were here to choose them, I know just what they’d be.

As Betsey done with scolding’ an’ her husband with the wit

To chuckle at her temper for the goodness under it.

A house that holds its sweetness through the bitterest sort of day,

Where faith in one another never changes, come what may.

A brave and a kinder, tenderer, happier you and me.

Would be the perfect tribute to Will Carleton’s memory.