Wolfe's angel looking homeward

By CRAIG THOMAS SHENK

Special to The Capital-Journal

Here is the story of the Thomas Wolfe family, as I learned it.

My maternal grandmother was Esther Wolfe. Her father was a brother to the father of Thomas Clayton Wolfe, the novelist who wrote "Look Homeward, Angel." So, my great-grandfather Wolfe, who was called Gilbert, was a brother to W.O. Wolfe, Thomas Wolfe's father.

Esther Wolfe married Harold Elmer Cockley in 1921. They had two children, June Dorothy Cockley, my aunt, born June 23, 1921, and my mother, Vivian Elaine Cockley, born Feb. 29, 1924. Vivian married Charles Clarence Shenk in 1946. I am their second son, Craig Thomas Shenk, born Aug. 28, 1954, in Lebanon, Pa.

The Wolfe family lived near Gettysburg, in a very small town called Biglerville. I have an original photograph of Tom sitting on the front step of the "old Kentucky Home" with his mother sitting in a rocking chair behind him. It is the last picture taken of Tom, taken in 1937.

It is written on the back by his sister Mabel Wolfe Wheaton, "To Emery and Miriam Wolfe," Tom's cousins. Emery was my maternal grandmother's brother. They would visit Mabel on their road trips to Florida; she reportedly was very eccentric. For instance, Mabel would say, "We're having bananas for breakfast," and fling a bunch of bananas on the table, nothing else.

The Wolfes were not well-accepted in Asheville. W.O. was a tombstone cutter, as his trade, and had a reputation for associating with the less desirable people of the community. He liked his alcohol, and loved to recite extensive works of poetry, but he also treated the local "madam" with kindness and respect, reportedly remaining platonic with her and "her girls."

Mostly living apart from Julia, W.O. ran a meager business, but most always kept an Italian marble angel right outside his door. He reportedly cursed it every day.

It was expensive, but he did not finally sell it to the local madam, as in "Look Homeward, Angel." It was sold to a young couple who lost their mother. W.O. was thrilled to sell it, though he missed cursing it every day.

Fred Wolfe, Tom's brother, would visit the Cockleys in Palmyra, Pa., one time bringing them a "poke" of candy. He was a massive man, just as Tom was, but slightly under the 6-foot-6 of Tom.

Tom's profound work and command of language, and his breadth of detail in his writing, makes him one of the truly gifted writers of the 20th century.

"A Stone, A Leaf, A Door," his poetry edited posthumously by Maxwell Perkins, gives a glimpse of his genius.

"You can't go home again," has become his legacy, the phrase quoted and understood by multitudes of present-day writers, almost a masterpiece in itself.

Copyright 2001
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