How I met Billy Collins
I went to the Geraldine Dodge Poetry festival in New Jersey when I was 16. Billy Collins was yet to be the Poet Laureate of the U.S. and I spoke to him about speaking at my Arts Highschool in Florida. He gave me his address. Later during the festival, he saw me crying (I had quite a vicious fight with my mother on the phone) So I was walking along, and he was walking along—he saw me—came over and hugged me. After that, he had lunch with me and my classmates. He’s possibly the most laid back, sincere, generous person I’ve met. Later I sent him a letter thanking him for his kindess. He wrote me back and included “Elk River Falls” a poem he was working on at the time.
I held on to that letter for years, and then when he came to Boston, where I am living now, I heard he was reading at Harvard, my friend Liz got me seats up front. It had been five years since we first met, when billy collins saw me (he was sitting three seats away) he said “You look familiar” I nearly started crying and pulled out the letter he sent me in 2000. “What a nice guy I am!” he said. We spoke, and later we talked for awhile about writing, life, everything. he took a picture with me, kissed me on the cheek and signed my book “To Shannon, who has cheered up!”
Fanfuckingtastic! I hope you all get to meet him someday.
