well, son, I’ll tell you
life ain’t been no crystal stair
it’s had tacks in it

Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.

But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.

So boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now—
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

“Mother to Son” from The Collected Works of Langston Hughes by Langston Hughes (University of Missouri Press, 2002).

I think this photo is of a Labor Day walk from our families house on the North End of Grand Rapids to my Grandma Hoffman’s house over on Coit Street near the old Creston Branch Library.

On the left is my Grandma Hendrickson and on the right is my older sister, Mary.

That’s Mom in the middle.

Her life wasn’t what Mr. Hughes wrote about when describing his Mother’s life but there were tacks aplenty in Mom’s life and I was lot of them.

I was a goofy 8th-child in a family of 11.

I could have chosen to keep my mouth shut, fly under the radar and mostly likely would not have been noticed too much … but where’s the fun in that?

At least from my point of view.

So I worked to stand out.

Not that I had too.

Even with 11 kids, Mom could make you feel special.

At some point in my elementary school career I made a clay pot which I proudly presented to my Mom on Mother’s Day and she loved it and put it, for a while, in a place of pride on the kitchen counter.

Was I proud!

So I proud that I never noticed that over time, other pots and gifts replaced my pinch pot.

With 11 kids, these types of gifts accumulated and Mom had a special shelf in one of the kitchen cupboards where she safely stored them all.

But deep down I knew mine was her favorite.

I know that because year’s later, when one of my brother’s returned from college having picked up the habit of smoking, Mom put MY pot in his room to use for a ashtray.

I puzzled about that for a little bit.

But when I realized none of those other pots never ever made it out of her cupboard, I knew mine must have meant something special to her to want to share it with my brother.

So what if it became an ashtray.

She was just trying to spread the happiness.

That is a great way to describe Mom.

there was a star danced
and under that was he born …
Happy Birthday El!

Adapted from the line: “There was a star danced, and under that was I born.” from Much Ado About Nothing (Act 2, Scene 1) by William Shakespeare.

Back in 2001 we got a call that there was another baby for us.

Lots of decisions had to made, not least of which was a new name and I got to work.

Our last son to date had been born in 1997, the 50th anniversary year of the Jackie Robinson breaking the color barrier in Major League Baseball.

That baby was supposed to be a girl so my wife didn’t care about a boys name and agreed that in the event the baby was boy, which wasn’t supposed to, we would go with that for a name.

When a boy showed up, my wife called from the hospital and said, “Well … Jackie Robinson Hoffman is here.”

With that in mind, I thought I would be really cool to name the next boy after the last black major league player before the rules were changed.

Had to go back to 1889 to find Moses Fleetwood Walker and what a great name it was.

That Mr. Walker had also played baseball for the University of Michigan was also a point in the names favor and I offered up Moses Fleetwood Walker Hoffman.

To be safe, I decided I better come up with a second name and by chance I had just watched Jazz, a 10 episode document on the history of Jazz by Ken Burns.

Now those who have read this blog know that me and Mr. Burns do not get along but I do appreciate some things he did along the way though I question the body of his work.

To that point I will say that I feel that fate rewarded Mr. Burns by having him produce the bulk of his work in 4×3 format in the era JUST BEFORE HD 16×9 TVs were available but I digress.

I have always liked music of all kinds and by chance I had come across the music of Edward Kennedy Ellington, AKA Duke, at an early age and loved it.

Watching the Ken Burns series, I made sure to catch the episode about Duke Ellington and I was pleased that Mr. Burns did himself proud by finishing the episode with the words …

Edward Kennedy Ellington … considered by many …the greatest of all American
composers, died on May 24, 1974.

Did you catch it?

Read it out loud and see if you notice anything almost perfect about that sentence.

Did you catch it?

So Duke Ellington was on my mind when we heard about the new baby and it came to me that Ellington would make a fine first name.

For a middle name, I thought that using my Father-in-Law’s first name would round out the very fine name of Ellington Bernard Hoffman.

That his initials would be E. B. and a homage to E.B. White was also a point in the names favor.

But how to decide?

We called in the other six kids and explained the situation and I gave them the two names and explained about the names and then, we let them vote.

I think the vote was 4-2 and you know how it turned out.

After 24 years, I cannot imagine any other name.

To close, Duke Ellington was once asked how he got his start and he replied:

My story is a very simple story. You know, it’s like, once upon a time, a very pretty lady and a very handsome gentleman met, fell in love and got married. And God blessed them with this wonderful baby boy. And they held him in the palm of their hand, and nurtured him and spoiled him until he was about seven, eight years old. And then he put, they put his feet on the ground, and the minute they put his feet on the ground, he ran out the front door, out across the front lawn, out across the street. Anyway, the minute he got on the other side of the street, somebody said, “Hey Edward , up this way.” And the, the boy was me incidentally. And he got to the next corner, and somebody says, “Hey Edward , right. Go up there and turn left. You can’t miss it.” And it’s been going on there ever since. That’s the story, that’s my biography.

Hey Ellington, up this way, go up!

Go up and turn left.

You can’t miss it and I can’t wait to see how it turns out.

Happy birthday!

Love.

Dad.