Bard of Belltown

Harvey Goldner, 1942-2007: 'Bard of Belltown'
a 'great poet' and a man of mystery
By KATHY MULADY
P-I REPORTER

Harvey Goldner, the "Bard of Belltown" who drove a taxi and lived in a cheap rooming house despite writing several volumes of poetry, died Wednesday, just weeks after surgery to remove a tumor on his tongue. He was 65.

Harvey Goldner wrote gritty poems about his life, his loves and his childhood.
Goldner was a Tennessee native who could still summon a deep Southern accent, even after living more than half his life in Seattle. He was a regular at open mike nights, where he read his gritty, measured poems about the struggles of everyday life, his loves, his childhood and the changing Belltown neighborhood.

"He was a great poet, I fully endorsed him," said Chris Dusterhoff, owner of Spankstra Press in Seattle. "I did three books for him. They were all very popular. Everyone loved Harvey."

His poetry books include "Memphis Jack," "American Flyer," "New Millennium Business" and "Her Bright Bottom." Another book, "The Resurrection of Bert Ringold," is to be published in the fall.

But aside from his poetry, few knew much about Goldner.

"He was kind of mysterious, held his cards close to his chest," Dusterhoff said.

Goldner lived at a rooming house -- with the bath down the hall and cheap rent -- at First and Vine in Belltown. He drove a taxi a couple of nights a week to pay for the room and buy cigarettes.

The rest of the time he wrote his poems and monopolized a computer at the downtown library checking his e-mail, networking and looking for places to publish his work.

"A couple of years ago he ran his own quarterly magazine of poetry called Roar Shock," Dusterhoff said. "He did that for a few years and made a lot friends that way. He never put me in there, but I don't hold that against him."

Goldner leaves two daughters, two sons and eight grandchildren. He was a mystery to them as well.

"I have been trying to piece everything together in the last two months since he got sick," said his daughter Emily Goldner of Seattle. "He really wasn't much of a talker."

He grew up in Tennessee and started writing when he was in high school. He graduated from Rhodes College in Memphis, then continued graduate work in classical literature at the University of New Mexico. He considered becoming a professor, but was frustrated by university politics.

Instead, he worked in hospitals, mainly as an X-ray technician, including at Harborview Medical Center. In the 1960s, he fell in love with a nurse who became his wife, Meg Goldner. The family lived on Capitol Hill. They later divorced, and Meg Goldner died.

"He was an alcoholic," his daughter said. "He went into recovery and never drank again after that. But he said he couldn't work a structured job and maintain his sobriety. His work was his writing."

Goldner said her father loved the Northwest, camping, nature and water.

He kept his illness to himself as long as he could.

"He said don't worry. He never wanted anyone to be bothered," Goldner said.

"I think he was really private, but as an artist and a writer, he wanted his work read, he was out there promoting his writing. I have just gotten to know that side of him. We had a really good day on Father's Day.

"The surgery was successful, he was definitely a fighter."

But 50 years of cigarette smoking had caught up with him. The cancer had spread.

His friends were planning to gather Wednesday night to remember a fellow poet and his stories, embellished as they often were.

"Harvey was sober for 25 years, but back in the day I guess he was quite a drinker," Dusterhoff said.

"He told us he was kicked out of a fraternity for drinking too much. I think the stories he told us were about 75 percent true. He would just kind of tweak things."

Goldner read his poetry at Frye Art Museum and Poets West and for the Seattle City Council's poetry program Word's Worth.

Emily Goldner said a memorial gathering is being planned for her father.