George H. Gurley Jr.
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George H. Gurley, Jr. died in a farm accident on July 25, 2024, at his home in Vinland, Kansas. He and his wife of 46 years, Susan Gurley, moved onto the property in 2000 and spent the last era of their shared lives restoring the native tallgrass prairie and watching it flourish. From their spot on a hill, they enjoyed spectacular views of summer thunderstorms, exquisite sunsets, and the constant parade of deer, coyotes, bobcats, red-tailed hawks, turkey vultures, meadowlarks, red-winged blackbirds, black snakes, box turtles, beetles, hawk moths and swallowtails. George was a keen steward of native grasses— Big Bluestem, Switch Grass, Indiangrass, and Sideoats Grama—and enjoyed in his own peculiar way a perpetual battle against invasive Sericea Lespedeza. He delighted in the Maximilian Sunflowers, and will miss their bloom this year, but enjoyed an unexpected patch of Prairie Coneflowers that encircled his house this June. Until his last moments, George was writing—working on essays and another novel, composing poetry and scribbling fragments onto envelopes—and the land on which he lived was a constant muse. In addition to his grounded pursuits, George’s roving intellect demanded a constant input of ideas; when he wasn’t mowing, spraying, or scribbling, he could be located by his traveling piles of books and papers. He was fluent in Italian, read widely in the language, and was currently deep in a reading project he hoped would help him understand the follies of leaders, from the Peloponnesian War, to the French Revolution, and the Vietnam War.
George was born in Kansas City on July 12, 1941, to George Gurley and Agnes Low. He was preceded in death by his parents and his older sister Janet Whitman. He is survived by his wife, Susan, sister Ann Rogers (Jim), his nieces Gail, Allison, Sara, and nephew Neal. He is survived by his son George III, daughter Arianrhod, son Cern, and daughter Gillian, and their spouses (Hilary, Ryan, Jennifer, and Jeffrey). He is also survived by his seven grandchildren, whom he indulged with countless rides on his four-wheeler, The Mule. They are: George IV, Alexander, Alia, Lilian, Max, Jonah, and Iris. He was also close to Susan’s siblings, and passed many happy hours with the Hodges and Greenberg families and his nieces and nephews.
George attended Pembroke-Country Day for high school. He graduated with high honors in English from Princeton University in 1963, and taught at International College in Beirut, Lebanon for a year. He returned to Kansas City and obtained a Masters at UMKC, then worked in real estate as president of Preferred Properties for 20 years.
He married Susan in 1978, and they blended their families—his son George and Susan’s children Cern and Arian—into a happy whole.
In 1983, George went to work for the Kansas City Star. He wrote three general interest columns a week for ten years and was the book review editor for seven years. He and Susan welcomed a daughter, Gillian, during that time. Two of George’s plays were produced by Park College and directed by Pulitzer Prize winner Charles Gordonne. His poems have been published in literary magazines such as Poetry and New Letters. The Wall Street Journal has published his book reviews. Raindust Press published a book of his poems, “Home Movies,” BkMk Press published a book of his poems, “Fugues in the Plumbing” and a book of newspaper columns (with Peter Simpson), “Press Box and City Room.” After retirement from the Star, George wrote a column for the Lawrence Journal-World for 15 years.
In 2022, George’s novel The Griefmaker was published by Anamcara Press, which fictionalized the story of the plowing of the Elkins Prairie. In his book, the patch of lost prairie was named The Griefmaker, but until the shock wears off, George’s family and friends may find it apt to think of him by that name. His wit, intellect, charm, and abundant curiosity will be terribly missed by those who know and love him.
There are no formal services planned, though a memorial gathering will be announced in time. Donations in George’s memory can be made to the Palmyra Township Fire Department, P.O. Box 898, Baldwin, KS 66006, which came to George’s rescue on more than a few occasions and helped preserve the place he loved.
Entering Kansas
George Gurley
Enter dust devils and dervish grasses,
prairie schooners creeping in their ruts.
Enter sod busters, ploughshares,
settlers in dugouts raving in the wind,
John Brown in God-rage,
Bible in one hand, rifle in another,
whitewashed farmhouses
blinding-bleak in August light.
Enter hoe, axe, and maul,
reaper, harrow, adze,
stone boat, corn crib, farrow pen,
slop barrel, pitch fork,
oat bin, hay rack, ice hook,
egg bulge in a black snake’s neck.
The sky fills with wisps of trumpets,
cicadas prophesying drought,
hedge balls, sand burrs, thistle down,
cedars in greatcoats dusted with snow,
buffalo wallow, arrowhead.
Shoat, boar, hammer, anvil, tong,
bullheads hanging from a trot line,
coyote pelt stretched on a fence,
bob white whistle, cuckoo cluck,
dickcissel’s chew-chew-chew.
Mockingbird and copperhead,
lambsquarter, curly dock,
morning glory, dead fall,
and sheep-eating dogs.
Acansis, Konzas, Ukasa.
Enter Santa Fe and Union Pacific
braying in the bottoms,
Township, metes and bounds,
gravemarkers and organ pipe columns
of grain elevators washed in moonlight
beyond the deserted town.
Dear Susan,
What a moving and beautifully written obituary of a truly extraordinary person. George lived such a worthwhile and meaningful life. Such a loss.
We are so terribly sorry and send our love to you and family.
Barbara and Dick Schowen
Such a loss for his Kansas circles, his land, and the writing community that knew him well.
What a moving tribute to an elegant man. He lived a beautiful, rich, fulfilling life. To all those who loved him, I offer my deepest and most profound condolences. May his memory be a blessing.
I was shocked this morning to see that George Gurley, Jr., has left us. https://obituaries.ljworld.com/…/george-gurley-obituary… As you can see from the obit, George was a talented writer–poetry, fiction, essays, plays–and activist for preserving the prairie. I had the pleasure of publishing some of his poems in my magazine, Tellus, a few decades ago and reviewed his first book of poems, Fugues in the Plumbing, in New Letters, also a few decades ago. His recent novel, Griefmaker, captures our eastern Kansas locality, with some surrealistic touches. We got reacquainted last summer at a reading he gave. Sad news. My condolences to his family and friends.
We were also shocked by George’s very untimely death.
Many good memories of such good neighbors. We were sorry to lose you when you moved to the country.
Thinking of you all.
Susan and family,
George and I are incredibly sad about our very precious friend George. The wonderful and fun times we have had together through the years will linger in our memory forever. Words can’t express our profound sorrow and we offer you our deepest sympathy.
With love to all
Penny and George
I never met Mr. Gurley but avidly read his columns in the Star (when it was a real newspaper). They were jewels! I still have the clipping of the one about his being reincarnated with the soul of a dog that had met an untimely end—a joke that went bad on retelling it around the family dinner table. I’m not a KC native but always thought of him as one of the best of what the city had to offer. We have lost a (humble) giant man of letters.
I was always pleased that George kept writing. His regular columns in the KCStar/Times were consistently interesting, sometimes thought-provoking, always eloquent. I was so sorry when George moved on to other writing ventures. He will be well-remembered.
Really Sorry. I never had the opportunity to meet your dad, George. That’s so cool that he was a writer and you are as well. I had no idea. Remember the good times- sounds like you had many. I’ll be back in the city tomorrow.
What a wonderful tribute to a writer that brought so many so much joy. Once I found his work I never missed a word.
George and I first met on the Border Star grade school playground, and we never lost track of one another. I went into journalism and, for a while, was managing editor of The Kansas City Times, back when Kansas City had two daily newspapers (The Star was then the afternoon paper). One day the local columnist quit, and my search for a new one led to my old friend George. It is my honor to have hired him for his fine run as columnist and then book review editor. What cinched the deal for me was his devotion to his place, Kansas City and the prairie he loved. I’ve never stopped being his fan, and even though I’ve lived in Massachusetts for 25 years we managed to see one another from time to time. I will miss him terribly, and my heart goes out to Susan and his family and all who valued him.
It was a pleasure to have been a colleague at The Star when it was still a literate newspaper, George. You were an exceptional guy, and I greatly
admired your determination to learn Italian. RIP
Dear Susan, I am soo very sorry for your loss. George was a delight and will be sorely missed. The obituary was beautifully written and explained so well this extraordinary man. My heart goes out to you. – I just found out last night at the fair.
Dear Susan, I am soo very sorry for your loss. George was a delight and will be sorely missed. The obituary was beautifully written and explained so well this extraordinary man. My heart goes out to you. – I just found out last night at the fair. My deepest sympathy to all who loved him.
Dear Susan,
From all the ladies at Body Boutique. As has been said above, you shared your life with an extraordinary man. Although none of us knew George, his obituary told the story of an amazing life. Our heart is with you and your family through this long journey of grief and loss. All our love
George and I met in graduate school in the 1970s and have been friends since. This is heartbreaking news. He was a genuinely great writer, both prose and poetry, and a great man.