George H. Gurley Jr.

George H. Gurley, Jr. died in a farm accident on July 25, 2024, at his home in Vinland, Kansas. He and his wife of 46 years, Susan Gurley, moved onto the property in 2000 and spent the last era of their shared lives restoring the native tallgrass prairie and watching it flourish. From their spot on a hill, they enjoyed spectacular views of summer thunderstorms, exquisite sunsets, and the constant parade of deer, coyotes, bobcats, red-tailed hawks, turkey vultures, meadowlarks, red-winged blackbirds, black snakes, box turtles, beetles, hawk moths and swallowtails. George was a keen steward of native grasses— Big Bluestem, Switch Grass, Indiangrass, and Sideoats Grama—and enjoyed in his own peculiar way a perpetual battle against invasive Sericea Lespedeza. He delighted in the Maximilian Sunflowers, and will miss their bloom this year, but enjoyed an unexpected patch of Prairie Coneflowers that encircled his house this June. Until his last moments, George was writing—working on essays and another novel, composing poetry and scribbling fragments onto envelopes—and the land on which he lived was a constant muse. In addition to his grounded pursuits, George’s roving intellect demanded a constant input of ideas; when he wasn’t mowing, spraying, or scribbling, he could be located by his traveling piles of books and papers. He was fluent in Italian, read widely in the language, and was currently deep in a reading project he hoped would help him understand the follies of leaders, from the Peloponnesian War, to the French Revolution, and the Vietnam War.

George was born in Kansas City on July 12, 1941, to George Gurley and Agnes Low. He was preceded in death by his parents and his older sister Janet Whitman. He is survived by his wife, Susan, sister Ann Rogers (Jim), his nieces Gail, Allison, Sara, and nephew Neal. He is survived by his son George III, daughter Arianrhod, son Cern, and daughter Gillian, and their spouses (Hilary, Ryan, Jennifer, and Jeffrey). He is also survived by his seven grandchildren, whom he indulged with countless rides on his four-wheeler, The Mule. They are: George IV, Alexander, Alia, Lilian, Max, Jonah, and Iris. He was also close to Susan’s siblings, and passed many happy hours with the Hodges and Greenberg families and his nieces and nephews.

George attended Pembroke-Country Day for high school. He graduated with high honors in English from Princeton University in 1963, and taught at International College in Beirut, Lebanon for a year. He returned to Kansas City and obtained a Masters at UMKC, then worked in real estate as president of Preferred Properties for 20 years.

He married Susan in 1978, and they blended their families—his son George and Susan’s children Cern and Arian—into a happy whole.

In 1983, George went to work for the Kansas City Star. He wrote three general interest columns a week for ten years and was the book review editor for seven years. He and Susan welcomed a daughter, Gillian, during that time. Two of George’s plays were produced by Park College and directed by Pulitzer Prize winner Charles Gordonne. His poems have been published in literary magazines such as Poetry and New Letters. The Wall Street Journal has published his book reviews. Raindust Press published a book of his poems, “Home Movies,” BkMk Press published a book of his poems, “Fugues in the Plumbing” and a book of newspaper columns (with Peter Simpson), “Press Box and City Room.” After retirement from the Star, George wrote a column for the Lawrence Journal-World for 15 years.

In 2022, George’s novel The Griefmaker was published by Anamcara Press, which fictionalized the story of the plowing of the Elkins Prairie. In his book, the patch of lost prairie was named The Griefmaker, but until the shock wears off, George’s family and friends may find it apt to think of him by that name. His wit, intellect, charm, and abundant curiosity will be terribly missed by those who know and love him.

There are no formal services planned, though a memorial gathering will be announced in time. Donations in George’s memory can be made to the Palmyra Township Fire Department, P.O. Box 898, Baldwin, KS 66006, which came to George’s rescue on more than a few occasions and helped preserve the place he loved.

Entering Kansas

George Gurley

Enter dust devils and dervish grasses,

prairie schooners creeping in their ruts.

Enter sod busters, ploughshares,

settlers in dugouts raving in the wind,

John Brown in God-rage,

Bible in one hand, rifle in another,

whitewashed farmhouses

blinding-bleak in August light.

Enter hoe, axe, and maul,

reaper, harrow, adze,

stone boat, corn crib, farrow pen,

slop barrel, pitch fork,

oat bin, hay rack, ice hook,

egg bulge in a black snake’s neck.

The sky fills with wisps of trumpets,

cicadas prophesying drought,

hedge balls, sand burrs, thistle down,

cedars in greatcoats dusted with snow,

buffalo wallow, arrowhead.

Shoat, boar, hammer, anvil, tong,

bullheads hanging from a trot line,

coyote pelt stretched on a fence,

bob white whistle, cuckoo cluck,

dickcissel’s chew-chew-chew.

Mockingbird and copperhead,

lambsquarter, curly dock,

morning glory, dead fall,

and sheep-eating dogs.

Acansis, Konzas, Ukasa.

Enter Santa Fe and Union Pacific

braying in the bottoms,

Township, metes and bounds,

gravemarkers and organ pipe columns

of grain elevators washed in moonlight

beyond the deserted town.