State Parks Director Shows Personal Side in His Poetry

SACRAMENTO — There once was a man from L.A., state parks were his passion by day. In his spare time, he wrote poems in rhyme. And continues to do so today.

For those taxpaying skeptics who view government bureaucrats as soulless paper pushers, we present Donald W. Murphy, director of California’s state parks department--and a published poet.

Now 46, Murphy took to poetry as a boy of 7. He has been in its grip ever since, using the craft to explore life’s mysteries and express his love of language.

Sometimes Murphy writes of nature, as befits the steward of California’s 264 parks. But his preferred topic is one that has inspired and tested many a writer before him: love.

Next month, Murphy’s book--”Love Vignettes”--will appear in selected bookstores throughout the state, and the parks chief will promote it with a series of readings from Sacramento to Brentwood.

The book is a collection of 74 sonnets, reflecting a man who, in his publicist’s words, “is not afraid to share his deepest feelings of pain, loneliness, lust, romance and despair.”

I knew that I should not have trusted my

Emotions when first I looked into your

Eyes; that the day’d come when I’d know they’d lie.

For now you have gone off to another,

And I am left only these sad rhymes to

Repeat an often repeated tale of woe.

The poems are, indeed, frank and revealing--especially for a gubernatorial appointee afloat in the treacherous currents of politics. Though many are conceptual in origin, others fly forth from the passions, sorrows and anguished moments that have fluttered through his life.

And so it must be, Murphy said, for poetry to work:

“Unless you’re willing as an artist to be self-revealing and naked, you will not be successful,” said Murphy, who is striking for his warm sonorous voice and gentlemanly bearing. “You have to speak in terms that are personal, in ways that will touch people.”

The collection--released by his wife’s publishing company--has yet to receive a formal critical review. But one noted Los Angeles writer, award-winning poet David St. John, praised Murphy for the mere act of publishing.

“In many other countries, it’s considered a mark of one’s education and culture to publish a volume of poems--and it’s very important that public figures do so,” said St. John, director of USC’s creative writing program. For any person to take that step here is “a cause for celebration”--no matter the level at which he writes, St. John said.

Aside from his poetic credentials, Murphy is a Sacramento standout in other ways. He was the first parks chief selected from among rank-and-file park employees, and he is an African American--one of just two black department directors in the Wilson administration.

Appointed in 1991, his six years as California’s guardian of parks have been a grind, dominated by sagging budgets and a staff demoralized by cuts and deteriorating facilities. By one estimate, state parks suffer from basic maintenance woes that would cost $75 million to fix--excluding the cost of rehabilitating historic buildings.

His fans say Murphy has weathered the tough times with agility and grace, fighting off potential park closures and holding the line on visitor-fee increases through frugality and an innovative management approach.

“His strength has been accepting reality--making lemonade out of lemons,” said Marcia Hobbs, a veteran member of the State Park and Recreation Commission who calls Murphy “terrific.”

Even critics acknowledge that Murphy’s shortcomings can largely be blamed on economic realities and on a boss--Gov. Pete Wilson--consumed by other priorities.

“The fact is the parks department has always been the poor stepchild in this administration,” said Darryl Young, chief consultant to the Senate Committee on Natural Resources and Wildlife. “It would have been nice if Don Murphy had stood up and yelled louder on behalf of parks, but maybe he’s done the best he could given the circumstances.”

Before his appointment, Murphy was superintendent of Big Sur State Park. When he took over as director, the department was reeling from budget cuts--and facing more grim times given the economic downturn.

Under pressure to streamline, he launched a major reorganization, cutting 180 positions through attrition and consolidating administrative divisions and regional offices. In all, the moves saved about $10.3 million.

But the shake-up had other costs, namely a sense of trust and connectedness within what had been called “the state park family.”

“Before the reorganization, people went above and beyond the call of duty because they felt emotionally attached to parks and our mission,” said one seasoned park superintendent who asked not to be named. “A lot of people don’t feel that way any more.”

Murphy acknowledges that the decisions were “upsetting” for his staff, but defends them: “The alternative was to let the Legislature step in and slash and burn.”

Along with the streamlining has come a new emphasis on marketing parks and finding ways to make them more self-sufficient.

Murphy enlisted Clint Eastwood, a personal acquaintance, to promote the parks through public service announcements, and opened several retail stores to sell park-related merchandise.

Park superintendents have also been ordered to devise ways to raise money through expanded concessions and special events. Some parks have begun to offer lodging in tent trailers, for example, and a privately run tourist tram carts visitors around Angel Island in San Francisco Bay.

On Malibu Lagoon, the historic Adamson House may now be leased for private weddings--an arrangement that yields handsome fees for the state. And some concessionaires have been given contracts to collect park fees and run campgrounds.

Such moves have spawned anxiety about the potential over-commercialization of parks and predictions that private companies may be given too much latitude in their operation--perhaps putting natural resources in peril.

“I don’t have any complaints about Don Murphy’s motivation and commitment to parks, but I question the direction we’re going,” said Lynn Sadler, executive director of the Mountain Lion Foundation and longtime parks lobbyist. Privatization is “a slippery slope. We’re setting in motion a system with huge potential for abuse.”

As an example, Sadler cites a plan to create an official state park soft drink, which she said “exceeds the boundaries of what’s appropriate.”

Murphy, however, said the proposal would merely allow a single soft drink company to sell sodas at state parks--and pay a fee for such exclusive rights.

“We’re not talking about Pepsi signs in Big Sur,” he said. “I understand people’s fears, and I understand why they’re vigilant about their parks. But they are envisioning extreme things that no one in this administration wants and will not happen on my watch.”

Born in Louisiana, Murphy was raised in Baldwin Hills, the son of a Baptist minister who often used verse in his sermons. When Murphy was 7, his father gave him a gift as precious as any since--a collection titled “One Hundred and One Famous Poems.”

Throughout his life, Murphy--a father of six--has often turned to poetry for comfort and relief. When his first marriage ended and his wife briefly had custody of their children, he wrote about his pain--a poem included in his book.

All loss is no loss when compared to this:

To lose your children and their sacred kiss.

Wherever he goes, he carries a notepad, logging thoughts and snippets of verse for future use.

Unlike many contemporary poets, Murphy shuns the free-verse style in favor of the time-tested sonnet, established in the 13th century by Italian poets and popularized in English by Wordsworth and, of course, Shakespeare. With its 14 lines and rhyming scheme, the sonnet demands a satisfying discipline of poets, Murphy said.

“Wordsworth called the sonnet ‘a scanty plot of ground,’ ” he said. Murphy writes mainly for personal joy, but by publishing he hopes to push poetry beyond “the intellectual elite” to a broader readership. He is disdainful of poets whose work is so abstract that it exceeds most people’s reach.

“It’s fine to strain intellectually,” Murphy said, “but poetry shouldn’t be so inaccessible that the average person has no idea what it’s about.”

Toward his goal of public enlightenment, Murphy uses poetry in his work. When he’s in Sacramento and not on the road, he sends out a “director’s thought for the day” over e-mail to his far-flung staff. The messages are designed to inspire and “get people thinking,” he said.

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A Poet by Nature (Southland Edition, A25)

Here are two of the sonnets included in “Love Vignettes,” the book of poetry by Donald W. Murphy, director of California’s state parks department:

Of my very self you have robbed me:

Flesh of my flesh held hostage by your fears.

My soul is in torment, this cannot be.

All my heart’s sorrow turns to endless tears

Which cascade down, down my quivering cheeks,

Cutting deep furrows where yesterday dwelt

Hopeful youth. Now, it’s weeks added to weeks

Since I have seen the life that was mine; knelt

Beside my youngest darling, felt her smile

Kiss my eyes; or felt the strength spring within

My only son’s arms; or sat quiet while

The middle one danced for me, tall and thin.

All loss is no loss when compared to this:

To lose your children and their sacred kiss.

*

I was touched by your tears the night you cried:

Your soft, brown eyes glistened behind the rain.

For too much of humanity has died,

And all men of principle have been slain.

Soulful wellsprings can’t wash bloody streets clean;

Hearts that burn with hate can’t bring back the dead.

The peace we seek to win must not be mean,

But must be won by sacrifice that bled

From the common artery of mankind.

Though your silent weeping awakened me

To your keep sense of care, I cannot find

A reason to share in your misery.

But hang your pride on the tree, let it die,

And mankind will have no reason to cry.