Cap’s Off to You! – Ashley Bryan (Posthumously) and Celebrating Story

For nearly a century, Ashley Bryan poured his creativity and compassion into poetry, performance, and art, forever transforming the world of children’s literature and storytelling.

Born in Harlem and raised in the Bronx, Bryan began making books in kindergarten by stitching together letters and numbers. That playful beginning grew into a lifelong vocation of blending words, rhythm, and imagery through painting, collage, stained glass, puppetry, and prose. He often said, “I try not to accept walls and boundaries and definitions in a strict way. I would hope that everything I do is interrelated.”

Drafted into a segregated unit during World War II, Bryan kept a sketchpad in his gas mask to preserve his humanity in the midst of war. His later memoir, Infinite Hope, revealed both the hardships and resilience of that time. Afterward, he completed his studies at Cooper Union, pursued philosophy and literature at Columbia University, and traveled to Europe on a Fulbright, before teaching at several institutions and retiring as Professor Emeritus at Dartmouth College.

Seeing few children’s books that reflected Black characters or the African oral tradition, Bryan made it his mission to change that. He retold folktales and spirituals with rhythm, music, and joy. His more than seventy titles include Beat the Story-Drum, Pum-Pum, Beautiful Blackbird, and Freedom Over Me. His work garnered numerous honors, including four Coretta Scott King Awards, the Laura Ingalls Wilder Medal, the Virginia Hamilton Lifetime Achievement Award, and recognition as a New York Public Library Literary Lion.

Yet those who experienced him in person remember not just the books, but the way he embodied story. Bryan was a poet and performing artist who did not simply speak—he sang, clapped, and danced the words into being. Children and adults alike were swept up in his storytelling, eyes shining as his voice carried the rhythms of African and African American traditions.

Beyond the page and stage, Bryan was a humanitarian. He supported literacy efforts in Kenya and South Africa, earning the affectionate title “LongPapa.” He believed in connection, once sharing, “At every moment I strive for connection. If you are in the moment, you are stretching out to reach that which you recognize in others. That’s my secret.”

Connie Regan-Blake reflected, “My heart is so full, thinking about Ashley Bryan (1923–2022) and all that he gave (and through his creativity and compassion, continues to give) to the world. An amazingly gifted artist, author, friend and human being. I am so grateful to have known him.”

We at Story Crossroads join countless others in honoring Ashley Bryan. His books, poems, art, and performances ensure that his story lives on—sung, spoken, and celebrated.

If you have links to add – video, audio, articles – please share by emailing info@storycrossroads.org or commenting on this blog post.

You can see more details on Ashley Bryan with the Story Artists Memorial.

Enjoy reflections, advice, and performance in this video of Ashley Bryan below:

Do you know a Story Artist who has passed on and want others to remember them? Memories? Pictures? You can submit names and memories of Story Artists who have passed on through our online form. 

I remember when I first read Beautiful Blackbird. Little did I know that his beauty of language was more than writing and illustrating but of performance as well. His legacy of poetry, performance, and art lives on in every page he created and every story he brought to life. Through his books, his voice, and his vision, Ashley continues to remind us of the beauty, resilience, and joy within the human spirit.

Ashley Bryan still has a story. You have a story. We all have stories.

Cap’s Off to You! – Gwenda LedBetter (Posthumously) and Celebrating Story

Gwenda LedBetter was more than a storyteller—she was a living story herself, layered with wonder, wit, and grace. Known affectionately as Asheville’s “Story Lady,” she carried generations of tales in her voice and wove them gently into the hearts of listeners. Whether in a library corner or on a national stage, she had the rare gift of leaving people “feeling hopeful, and happy,” as storyteller Chuck Fink recalled. “She told like none other.” Her storytelling wasn’t performance—it was communion. It was an invitation to remember what it means to be human.

Her friendship was a quiet, radiant force. She cast “a beautiful light wherever she smiled,” Chuck Fink said. She sang in the Temple choir even though she wasn’t Jewish. She co-created community across differences. Kiran Singh Sirah called her “a very special woman, kind and big-hearted with a powerful soul.” He shared memories of sandwiches, poetry readings, and deep philosophical conversations—one of which even included Gwenda pondering what Roosevelt might say if he joined their front-porch chat. “Her excitement for learning was truly infectious.”

Even near her 95th birthday, Gwenda was deeply engaged. Connie Regan-Blake shared that when she visited in February 2025, Gwenda immediately asked her to tell a story from a recent festival—still hungry for connection, still living with vibrant purpose. “She is so engaged with life,” Connie said, “and missing interaction with other storytellers and friends.” Gwenda longed to stay in touch with the storytelling world, even inviting cards and letters from anyone who had a moment or a story to share.

Her red rocker became legend—immortalized in her TV segment Tales from the Red Rocker on WLOS-TV and echoed in her live performances. Over a 50-year career, she inspired and mentored countless others. Terry Rollins credited her with helping shape the North Carolina storytelling scene, saying, “She led that workshop which focused on stepping outside our perceived boundaries and having fun.” She was a founding member of the North Carolina Storytelling Guild and sat in the very first circle that gave it life. Her generosity, creativity, and wisdom helped guide the Guild’s vision and spirit.

Gwenda wrote daily poems, often sharing them with friends by email. She marveled at geese from her window and believed there was always something more to learn. Tim Lowry once said she inspired him with the simple phrase: “Surely there is something to find out about.” He turned it into a poem about curiosity, which captured her essence more than any biography could. “Some people spend their time…on other things…but they never say, I must learn.

Her stories, as Madeleine L’Engle once said, “touch the core of my strongest feelings.” And an unnamed audience member perhaps said it best: “Your stories make me proud to be human.” In honoring her life, we are reminded not only of the power of story—but of the power of listening, of loving, and of living curiously.

In her lifetime, Gwenda was awarded the ORACLE Lifetime Achievement Award from the National Storytelling Network in 2006 and again celebrated by the North Carolina Storytelling Guild with their own Lifetime Achievement Award in 2009. Her name became synonymous with excellence in storytelling, but she wore these honors with humility, always more excited about your story than her own spotlight.

Gwenda LedBetter now joins the ancestors, but her voice echoes still—whenever we pause to tell a story with heart, or simply look out a window and wonder.

If you have links to add – video, audio, articles – please share by emailing info@storycrossroads.org or commenting on this blog post.

You can see more details on Gwenda LedBetter with the Story Artists Memorial.

The following video features Gwenda LedBetter (click on picture or link):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2ax19o7K8E

Do you know a Story Artist who has passed on and want others to remember them? Memories? Pictures? You can submit names and memories of Story Artists who have passed on through our online form. 

I appreciate Gwenda LedBetter, Asheville’s beloved Story Lady, whose stories made us proud to be human. She shared wonder from her red rocker, lighting up libraries, festivals, and front porches with grace and curiosity. I imagine her now among the ancestors, still spinning tales and sipping tea.

Gwenda LedBetter still has a story. You have a story. We all have stories.

Cap’s Off to You! – Brian Jackson Fetzer (Posthumously) and Celebrating Story

Brian Jackson Fetzer was a master of many crafts—storyteller, filmmaker, composer, director, and musician—who lit up Utah’s creative community with heart and imagination. He was especially known for bringing stories to life through character, song, and spectacle, like when he donned a wizard’s hat and performed alongside a trio of singing witches at the Salt Lake Freedom Film and Storytelling Festival. Together, they delighted audiences with “We’re the Welcoming Witches! And we’re welcoming!” and playfully spooky songs like “Don’t Get Funny with a Mummy.” Whether charming families or crafting original productions, Brian infused every performance with humor, wonder, and sincerity.

His love for story and sound intertwined seamlessly. With songs like “Pi, the Song,” Brian found joy in teaching through music, turning math into melody for students across Utah. His award-winning composition “Bethlehem Merchant,” performed in the Salt Lake Tabernacle and aired on PBS, showed his ability to move audiences with spiritual depth. For the Olympus Chapter of the Utah Storytelling Guild, he wrote the beloved anthem “Weave Us All a Story,” which for years closed guild meetings in harmony and unity. Brian generously gave permission for others to sing his songs—as long as credit was given—ensuring that his work could live on in the voices of many.

Brian’s films gave visual shape to mystery and memory. His documentary Ghostly Guardians, an artistic exploration of haunted Fort Douglas, combined historical intrigue with lyrical storytelling and received widespread media acclaim. With Pieces of the Wind, he compiled a lifetime of music and stage performances into a cinematic tapestry, featuring concert hall debuts and songs of heartfelt resonance. Critics called him “another Gershwin” and praised his work as “an exquisite glimpse into eerie narratives of the metaphysical”—but those who knew him personally simply saw a man driven by beauty and truth.

At his core, Brian was a spiritual artist, rooted in faith and family. His mission to Austria earned him the nickname “The Singing Minstrel,” and his devotion to service endured throughout his life. Whether performing at church socials, composing sacred music, or singing in retirement homes, he never stopped using his voice to uplift others. The harmony he nurtured with his wife, Jill, and the joy he found in storytelling at the family cabin in Emigration Canyon mirrored the very themes he expressed in his work: love, legacy, and light.

To those who knew him, Brian was more than a performer—he was a creative soul who made others believe in the power of story, film, and music to change hearts. Fellow tellers remember his generosity, his laughter, and his spirit of collaboration. As he wrote in the chorus of his treasured song:

“Oh let us weave a wondrous story / Before our dreams grow cold.
Oh now let us weave a story / That never shall grow old.”

And indeed, through every song, every frame, every tale—Brian Jackson Fetzer has left us stories that never shall grow old.

If you have links to add – video, audio, articles – please share by emailing info@storycrossroads.org or commenting on this blog post.

You can see more details on Brian Jackson Fetzer with the Story Artists Memorial.

The following video is one of many songs that Brian Jackson Fetzer created. You can watch many more at his YouTube Channel.

Do you know a Story Artist who has passed on and want others to remember them? Memories? Pictures? You can submit names and memories of Story Artists who have passed on through our online form. 

I appreciate Brian Jackson Fetzer, who was generous beyond measure. He often invited me as well as others with the Utah Storytelling Guild to perform alongside him. Carol Esterreicher and Brian often went to a ski resort to share spoonerisms and music together. So, I know he’s in the heavens leading all sorts of music and stories while capturing it all on “heavenly video.”

Brian Jackson Fetzer still has a story. You have a story. We all have stories.