Leslie R. Foor

Leslie R. Foor was my older brother by two years. He was kind, considerate, energetic, and idealistic. As long as I can remember he wrote poetry and dreamed of becoming a writer. At the age of ten, he saw his name in print for the first time under a poem he wrote for the local newspaper. The more poems he had published the more he was convinced this was his calling. Everyone thought this was just a hobby that would fade in time. He grew up in Altoona, a small town in central Pennsylvania. Most agreed earning a living as a writer could only be a dream, never a reality. The men in our town worked for the railroad, including our father, grandfather, and all our uncles. But Leslie's desire to become a writer only grew stronger during his college days, while in the Air Force serving his country, and beyond. His poems continued to appear in numerous publications: The Army and Air Force Times, books of poetry, magazines, and newspapers.

His first job after returning home from the Air Force was as a copy writer for the local television station-WFBG-TV. After a few years he moved to Los Angeles in order to further pursue his dream. He held various editorial positions and created his own magazine, a trade journal, taking on the role as editor and publisher. By this time he had reached the height of his career--in his middle thirties. He began losing his ability to type, and perform the duties required in his position due to a loss of motor coordination. It was now apparent he had inherited Huntington's Disease from our mother, who lost her struggle with the disease at the age of fifty. Magazines continued to accept his free lance writing and photography work for the few years that followed. His disease progressed until he could no longer hold the camera steady enough, or hit the right keys on the typewriter. As his disability worsened, he insisted on living independently. Each day was a challenge. He walked with a cane, although he fell frequently, he got up and kept right on going. His faith grew stronger and the poems kept coming, although barely discernible. Two that come to my mind are entitled: The "Not-So-Patient Patient" and "Incarcerated" in chapter six. Share in his life's journey through these poems written by a remarkably talented poet. My brother's poetry will now live on these printed pages to fulfill the promise of his short, but creative life.