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Arts and Entertainment: Paintings Capture Local History & Scenery
October 7th, 2005

Arts and Entertainment: Murder in Cedar Key
June 21st, 2005

Arts and Entertainment: Celebration of Cedar Key
May 10th, 2005

Arts and Entertainment: Former Cedar Keyan Holds Book Signing
March 7th, 2005

Arts and Entertainment: Friends of the Refuges Annual Meeting Draws Huge Crowd
March 7th, 2005

Arts and Entertainment: Second Annual National Juried Art Exhibit Opens to Rave Reviews
March 6th, 2005

Arts and Entertainment: New Exhibit by Local Artists Opens at Island Hotel
February 16th, 2005

Arts and Entertainment: Local Artist Wins Best in Show
February 13th, 2005

Arts and Entertainment: Arts Center News
January 29th, 2005

Arts and Entertainment: Local Photographer Wins Honorable Mention in Photo Contest
January 10th, 2005

Arts and Entertainment: "Voices of the Virginia Eight" Opens at Arts Center Gallery
January 9th, 2005

Arts and Entertainment: Arts Center Happenings
January 1st, 2005

Arts and Entertainment: Stunning Exhibit Opens at Arts Center
December 5th, 2004

Arts and Entertainment: Juried Exhibit Opens at Arts Center to Rave Reviews
November 11th, 2004

Arts and Entertainment: Seeing Through the Eyes of Photographer Rose Valle
August 27th, 2004

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A Remembrance

A Remembrance

Robin McClary

Luke Zilles died here in Cedar Key about two weeks ago. I doubt that many people knew him because he was a reclusive man and a bit of a grouch. He lived in the house where he died, on Hodges where it is met by Rye Key Drive. The death was from natural causes, but he was sadly alone for the moment of passing. I have been told that he was either born in Panama or lived there as a child. He was educated at universities in New York State and was a retired Professor of English from the State University of Albany.

I met Luke at the Cedar Key poet's workshop. He was a longtime friend of Bill Stalter, another Cedar Key poet who died several years ago. Like Bill Stalter, Luke was an extraordinary poet. He had a published book of poetry called, Conch of Bees. He was also published in The Saturday Review and the New Yorker magazines.

Beyond these scattered thoughts, most of which I learned from some friends of his, I knew very little about him. What I did know was that he was a true wordsmith. He made the language a living thing that marched to the cadences that he sang. When I asked him about his techniques, he growled at me like a cornered wolf. He told me more than once that he, "didn't want to teach me nothing," but I learned anyhow.

I will miss him.

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