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[Editor's note: Poet and painter, Carolyn Kreiter-Foronda holds two masters degrees and a Ph. D. from George Mason University. She has published four books of poetry, Contrary Visions (Scripta Humanistica), Gathering Light (SCOP Publications, Inc.), Death Comes Riding (SCOP), and Greatest Hits (Puddinghouse Press). She has also co-edited an anthology of poems, In a Certain Place (SCOP). Her poems and writings have appeared in The Ledge, Hispanic Culture Review, El Quetzal, Prairie Schooner, Poet Lore, Mid-American Review, Antioch Review, Passages North, The Journal of Teaching Writing and The Writing Center Journal, and her art has been exhibited throughout Virginia and has been reproduced in her books.]

Although I never met Katherine Anne Porter, our mutual willingness to accept death's inevitability drew me close to her one day in August of 1980, nearly a month before she passed away. I was attending a gathering of doctoral candidates at the home of Dr. Clark Dobson, Dean of Education at George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia. Clark and I had on occasion discussed Porter's work, remarking on her superb craftsmanship in the short story, "The Jilting of Granny Weatherall," and the short novel, Pale Horse, Pale Rider.

Soon after arriving at Clark's home that day, he invited me into his study to see a rarity: the pine coffin from Montana that Porter had purchased by mail for $160. Its lofty six-foot frame seemed to float to the ceiling. Clark asked if I'd like to stand in the priceless artifact. Without hesitating, I entered and immediately sensed Katherine Anne's spirit. Unafraid of death, she, too, on occasion had stepped inside, perhaps testing unknown terrain.

Something unexpected occurred during those brief moments inside the coffin. The memory of my mother's death played back, a clarifying vision that would later help mold the poem, "Katherine Anne Porter's Secret." Granted, most people wouldn't have taken Clark up on his offer, but the spontaneity of the moment was exhilarating, and the experience, though brief, was life-altering. Over the years, Porter's influence on my work as a writer has grown more apparent. Her meticulous rendering of short stories has prompted me to revise my writings exhaustively. Her universal themes have taught me to search beyond an insular vision for concerns that address larger audiences. Her idiosyncrasies have encouraged me to accept my own oddities, as I suppose she did, without censure and with a large dose of humor.