The Wrong Sort of Poet
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Howard Austin was a Springfield resident, an accountant, a man of faith, and a Democrat who was known for an unusual facility. He could sit all evening at an event–say, a political fund-raiser–listen to the after-dinner speeches, then get up and deliver a lengthy poem recapping the proceedings and often making fun of them. He usually did this in musical form accompanied by the quartet he led, the Pawnee Four. In January 1936, an Austin ditty was either sung or recited after a speech by Governor Henry Horner at a dinner for the Democratic women of Sangamon County. Horner was a bachelor, and Austin’s poem suggested that he not be reelected unless he picked a bride. “No Bachelor for Governor, / But married he must be, / And sure as fate our Governor / Will yield submissively. / Then may we sit, content supreme, / No more we’ll feel alone, / For future days will hold no fears, / With a woman on the throne.” According to a local newspaper’s account of the evening, Horner was so taken with Austin’s wit that he promptly “dubbed him the ‘poet laureate’ of his administration.”
Dean Austin says his father subsequently received an official certificate (which Dean hasn’t been able to locate recently) and remained poet laureate until Sandburg got the job in 1962. Ever since, it’s been an uphill battle for recognition. “It was just something that escaped Illinois’ memory,” observes Clarke. “Nobody wanted to embrace it. It’s almost like people are embarrassed by it. But [Austin] wrote a form of poetry that was very popular at the time. A populist poetry that is pervasive and has its place in the canon.” News of the “lost laureate” went up on the Poetry Center Web site.
The Kind That Makes a Difference
legislation being promoted by the Illinois Film Office and the Illinois Production Alliance. Those two groups make a strong case that incentives are needed if Chicago’s going to be competitive with locations in Canada and New Mexico. But the so-called “tax credit” they’re pushing turns out to be more like a direct subsidy. In spite of its name, the Film Production Services Tax Credit Act has practically nothing to do with taxes: it’s a rebate for 25 percent of Illinois labor costs and will be handed over even if a film incurs little or no state tax. Last we heard, it will appear as an amendment to House Bill 234; representative Skip Saviano was still tweaking the draft at press time, but the version we saw applies to production of TV commercials as well as sitcoms and feature films and sets no specific dollar limit on the amount of the rebate. Supporters are trying to rush it through before the legislative session ends next week; also still pending is HB 2222, which will use $15 million of state money to purchase the west-side soundstage Chicago Studio City for the convenience of filmmakers.