Allen Hoey, a Bucks professor
and Pulitzer Prize-nominated
author, passed away
June 16 at the age of 57.
In his fiction Hoey left
behind countless characters
and vivid experiences for his
readers to enjoy. In his life he
left behind friends, family and
hundreds of students for
whom his death was devastating.
When Hoey wrote he
researched the details. He
immersed himself in whatever
topic he was writing about.
Even if that topic took him out
of his comfort zone.
“If you start working in
genre fiction you’ll find stuff
you don’t want cops knowing
you’re looking at,” Hoey
warned students at a writing
seminar last spring.
He was a major part of the
Language and Literature
Department. He was curriculum
coordinator and helped
evaluate the effectiveness of
courses.
“I can’t think of anyone who
has left a bigger hole in the
department than Allen has,”
said Assistant Academic Dean
of Language and Literature
Susan Darrah.
“I really miss him,” said
Darrah. “I think everyone in
the department really misses
him.”
Somehow Hoey was never
too busy to help aspiring writers,
new faculty members or
students. He found time to
volunteer to mentor new faculty
members. He also gave
personal feedback and attention
to his students, who
respected and admired him.
He did all of this while
maintaining a successful writing
career and publishing nine
books.
While Hoey’s passion for
writing inspired students and
faculty at Bucks his reach was
far beyond that. Other writers
from the surrounding community
deeply respected Hoey.
Hoey was the director of the
Bucks County Poet Laureate
program and oversaw the high
school poetry competition
Hoey was scheduled to do a
reading at the Newtown
Public Library on June 24.
Instead of canceling it, the
community held the reading in
his honor. Remarkable poets
from the community chose
their favorite poems of his to
read.
“The event demonstrated his
gifts as a poet, but also his
influence on others,” said Dr.
Chris Bursk.
On the side, Hoey dabbled
in publishing. He published a
number of good poets from
the area in the last four or five
years.
“Not only did his poetry
reach out to people,” said
Bursk. “His commitment to
poetry reached out to people.”
Hoey is survived by his wife
Debra, his two sons, two stepdaughters,
two grandchildren
and his son-in-law. Members
of his family were present for
the reading.
Hoey taught at Bucks for 20
years. For 15 of those years
his office was next to
Professor John Strauss.
“Allen and I were among
each other’s two or three closest
friends,” said Strauss.
“When my father died he set
up the room for the memorial,
he picked me up from the airport
if I needed a ride.”
“It’s strange to have him
gone,” said Strauss. “I want to
call him.”
Darrah said that Hoey was
“adored by his students.” It
was her responsibility to tell
the students who were registered
for his classes. “It was
one of the hardest things I’ve
ever had to do,” said Darrah.
Strauss will miss Hoey’s
honesty and humor. The two
could always say “what are
you doing?” if one did something
the other didn’t like.
“We could be absolutely
honest with each other,” said
Strauss. “You knew he’d listen
and not get defensive.”
Strauss and Hoey co-wrote
articles, one sitting and typing,
the other coming up with
stuff. Hoey would run poems
by his colleagues and was
open to input, Strauss remembers.
The two took a road trip
together where they saw two
concerts. At a John Wesley
Harding concert they attended
the artist was selling CDs and
the two struck up a conversation
with him. Strauss and
Hoey hung out with the artist
until 2 a.m. drinking and talking
about poetry, music and
politics. Afterwards, Hoey
stayed in touch with the musician.
While Hoey could have fun,
he was serious about his writing
and his classes.
“He put everything into
whatever it was he was
doing,” said Strauss. “When
he wrote he researched and
researched. He studied Greek
if he was writing about Greek
issues. He really immersed
himself in his work.”
Strauss says Hoey was
“obsessed” with jazz and even
wrote poems that would read
like jazz music. He collaborated
with professors from the
music department for some of
his readings, incorporating
guitar music into his presentation.
Hoey was thorough as a professor.
“He knew his stuff,”
said Strauss. “He prided himself
on that.”
Hoey believed in challenging
his students academically.
“When you give students
stuff that’s difficult it means
you believe in them,” said
Strauss. “He believed students
could learn. He didn’t dumb it
down.”
He was a clear and entertaining
lecturer and he was
extremely versatile as a writer.
“He could be serious,” said
Strauss. “Or turn around and
write these really funny
poems
or bizarre stories about riding
exploding chickens.”
Bursk said Hoey wrote poetry
that had “a life force.” “One
thing that drives his poetry is
his immense appetite for life,”
said Bursk, who enjoyed
Hoey’s story-telling poems.
“He had a wonderful ability to
get inside character, to get
inside someone else and spin a
story out.”
During readings, Hoey
would even do accents for the
characters he created.
Hoey’s reader heads off into
the dark along with two 17-
year-olds who grab onto a
moving train and lay flat on
the top while the night air
rushes by.
“We caught the ladder, the
rungs biting into our palms,
and climbed up to the top and
lay flat out and let the wind
pour like cold water over us,”
wrote Hoey in his poem
“Lords of Life.” “And looked
up at the stars and laughed
like we wouldn’t not never
ever, grow old and die, like we
were the everlasting lords of
life and wanted the whole
d**n world to know.”
After climbing down safely
from the train, the reader can
spend a night in a dive bar
called Blanche’s enjoying the
companionship, confessions
and humor of strangers.