Bill Holm Day

Today we celebrated the life and memory of Bill Holm, Western Icelander, Minnesota author, and part-time Hofsós resident. I am a great admirer of Bill's writing, but sadly never got to meet him. He died in 2009, around the time I was first getting involved in the Icelandic American community in Minnesota. There are many people here in Hofsós (and elsewhere) that miss him greatly, and today was all about honoring his memory and gathering together people who knew and loved him. Valgeir, and others here in Iceland have been planning this celebration of his life for who knows how long. It all came together today in the form of a magnificent program and dinner. I am so honored to have been able to be a part of this event.

We closed the Icelandic Emigration Center early today to get ready for the program, which is something that is almost never done. The World Cup and Bill Holm are the only things I know that are powerful enough to close down the museum, even for a few hours. At 3:00 I went with Viktor and his dad for a last minute practice of our poetry reading. The event was scheduled to begin at 4, but this is Iceland... so it was more like 4:15 when people began to trickle in and take their seats. The next two hours were filled with speeches, musical performances, and poetry readings. Viktor and I waited anxiously for our turn on stage. We were scheduled to speak near the end of the program. Even with anticipated stage fright, it was impossible not to enjoy the show. A large local choir sang a variety of amazing songs, a pianist named Daniel Ripple came all the way from Minnesota to play some of Bill's favorite tunes, and a fantastic soloist named Anna Sigga sang along with the piano. It was fabulous.

This is one of Bill Holm's many great published works and includes the poems
Viktor and I read during the program today. 

Viktor and I went up to the podium together when our turn came. I think I was just as relieved about this arrangement as he was. Viktor was tasked with reading a sweet poem written by Bill Holm just for him on the occasion of his baptism, nearly 11 years ago. In the days leading up to this event poor Viktor has claimed complete terror at the thought of getting up in front of a room full of people to read this poem. Today he did absolutely wonderfully. He sounded cool and confident, reading a poem in his second language in front of so many people at the age of 11. Amazing. I was up next, reading a poem titled, "Solstice Poem- for Kristján Árnason." When I was asked to chose a poem to read, this is the one that jumped out at me first. It is about watching the way the colors of the mountain change during the night of the Solstice, and the feelings it evokes. It is beautifully written, and I hope I was able to bring it to life for a few moments.

I was aware during the program that I was an outsider to both the truest grief and gladdest memories of this man. Most of the people in the room had met Bill at least once and had a story or two to tell about him. Many were dear friends or family; people who wiped tears from their eyes when hearing one of Bill's favorite Haydn compositions played on the piano, and those that could not get through speeches about this great man without their voices cracking. I absorbed these feelings, becoming teary myself when Bill's widow, Marcy, emotionally thanked everyone for coming. I wished that I had known him personally, but there amongst those people tonight, I feel like I almost did.

I left the dinner party tonight a little after 10pm to come home and check on the horses and do some writing. I am full of salmon, and rhubarb cake, and a strange sense of nostalgia for someone I never met. Tomorrow when I walk past Brimnes, Bill's house here in Hofsós, I will send an imaginary tip of the hat to a great author and man, who is greatly missed here in Iceland.