The Frank Waters
Vol. XI, No.
18 - February 2004
Post Office Box 1127 • Taos, New Mexico 87571
Board of Directors
Barbara Waters, President
Mark Rossi, First Vice President
Mary Ann Torrence, Second Vice President
Marilyn Luther, Secretary
Mark Rossi, Treasurer
William Farr, Webmaster
Arleene Arnell, Consultant
Geoffrey Torrence, Consultant
Ann Jauregui, Consultant
People of the Valley Excerpt
Tributes to Tal Luther
This ‘n That
A Word From Another Barbara
For Sale to Benefit FWF
People of the Valley
by Frank Waters
Slowly now [Maria del Valle] tottered to the corral and fed the two old ewes
double measure. She did not shut the gate as she left, throwing the peeling
aspen bars to keep out a chance coyote. She propped it open with heavy stones so
they could get out at morning. Thus she did at the hen house for the three
chickens that remained.
At the door of her hut she stopped, emptying a can of corn meal on the ground
for the birds at dawn. She shut the door behind her as she did each night to
keep out the evil spirits which fill the night air. Also, but for the first time
in her life, she latched it.
The old woman was breathing heavily now, but no more than usually; such exertion
always taxed her strength. Quietly a while she sat on the bed till her legs and
arms ceased to shake. Then she got up and lit a candle. The one that stood
before an old Santo in his niche, the one that she had cracked and mended a half
century or more ago.
The pale guttering light made travesty of her putterings. She dug up the little
box with its two remaining pieces of square gold, patted flat again the earthen
floor. She smoothed the bed after removing from it the faded, striped, burnt-
Now with a little brush of popotito she swept the floor in a dark corner. Over
it she pulled an old petate of woven tules. On this she lay down, and covered
herself with the faded, burnt-orange blanket. The candle stub burned steadily
now, without a flicker. Maria breathed steadily, without a gasp. It was as
though she controlled both with an inner tranquilit, and the whole room hushed
with her resolute assurance. After a time something stirred beneath the blanket.
Her wrinkled, scrawny hand emerged with the two square gold pieces. One each she
placed carefully on her gray filmed eyes. They lay heavily, quietly, in the deep
sockets between her high cheekbones and bony Indian nose. They pressed the calm
assurance that they would not fall off.
These only were left her from a lifetime. There is nothing ever lost but unreal,
evanescent images; nothing ever gained but a perception of the enduring reality
behind them. This is difficult to learn. We must first learn that there is only
one time, and that it contains all, eternally. Maria, having learned it, was
content. She lay quietly, without moving.
A faint candle-lit darkness, and on the floor the shrouded shape of an old woman
with gleaming spectacles of square gold. Like eyes of gold whose value could
never be diminished by change, which could never be blinded by age and evil, or
corroded by weather and misfortune. Steadily gleaming eyes that burned through
time with a faith which could not be dammed, and with a gaze which saw neither
the darkness of the day nor the brightness of the morrow, but behind these
illusions the enduring reality that makes of one sunset a prelude to a sunrise
Tal Luther by Holly Reed
The Gentle Man
by Arthur J. Bachrach
Tal Luther was a gentleman and a gentle man. I cannot recall ever being with him
when he was not smiling his gentle smile, bringing warmth and a sense of
comradeship to a group. I was proud to have been a friend of Tal and Marilyn. He
was a most knowledgeable antiquarian bookman, an author of several works
including a classic on Custer, which is still cited in the literature, and an
authority sought by book lovers who trusted and revered him.
In 1989 Tal brought up the idea that I should enter the rare book business. Moby
Dickens Bookshop had been in existence since 1984, and I had gained a feeling
for bookselling, but this was for new books. The idea of getting into the
rarified atmosphere of rare books was, to say the least, intimidating. Tal,
however, pointed to my years in academia as a basis for understanding books. He
was a world renowned, respected, indeed beloved bookseller, who saw me as a
colleague, not a competitor. Tal was my mentor, encouraging me to attend the AB
Weekly Antiquarian Booksellers’ School in Denver. It was an exciting time, and
Tal was always there to answer questions and share his broad knowledge. He had a
gentle sense of humor that enhanced the pleasure of being with him.
I felt great affection and deep gratitude for Tal, and I shall
miss him dearly.
Remembering Tal Luther
by Alexander Blackburn
It seems like yesterday and not some fifteen years ago when Inés and I first met
Tal and Marilyn Luther at Frank and Barbara Waters’ house in Taos. It was
Frank’s birthday, or one of those memorable gatherings for which Barbara and
Frank were famous. Luthers sat in the back, next to a window of the hospitable,
peaceful, and unique living room. Inés and I happened to be seated at their
side, all listening to the reading of some poem, or perhaps it was a passage of
an inspirational book. Like them, we were ready for the rich interaction and
fellowship of spirit and mind that followed. It was there, in that corner of
that living room, a patriarchal Taos sanctuary for many of us, where we began a
friendship and a journey of rich encounters with Marilyn and Tal. They were one
of the main reasons we would look forward to our summers in Taos.
During those many summers, I remember engaging conversations with
Tal on all sorts of humanistic and other topics, including the mixed and
incredible Taos happenings during our nine-month absences. I also remember his
quiet, deep, knowledgeable, unassuming, and elegant demeanor. His knowledge of
classical music, for example, was really impressive. Slowly he would approach
his old record player and lovingly handle that one special record which then he
would play for us.
Memorable for us were the tours Tal gave us among his library
shelves. He would pause at times and calmly and proudly open some books and
explain a special finding. The same would be true when he showed his
Southwestern paintings acquired during the year. And there we were in a private
tour listening to the most important collector in the field of Southwestern
books and paintings in the country! We felt so privileged. We do not remember,
however, whether we ever meaningfully thanked Tal for his generosity or for the
intellectual and humanistic feast that those encounters with him brought to our
A couple of times we were able to read Tal’s own poetry, deep,
philosophical, and meditative. Perhaps, because of it we got to know him better.
He was reserved.
What bright memories of rejoicing with Marilyn and Tal at
concerts and tasting good food at Taos Ski Valley pre-concert dinners! And
sharing festive occasions at their home and at sumptuous picnics, close to
hidden mountains and playful springs, and the laughs and pauses. And feeling the
special excitement of having a firsthand look at books Tal authored on Taos and
Santa Fe writers, and articles on his Waters collection.
Selfishly, I have to confess that the lengthy and rich
discussions about Frank Waters’ world, books, and ideas are the most
unforgettable moments I keep of the man and person who Tal was. Frank was an
important icon for him as for me. He truly knew and understood the Waters world.
That timeless world was ours when we entered into it.
During these last two years our cherished interaction languished. Because of
Tal’s ailment, we did not visit that much; and in the rare times we got
together, he was quiet and introspective. I do remember his reviving
considerably on two occasions. The first was at our Taos home when we saw a
video, “From Mozart to Mao.” Mozart was another icon of Tal’s, and he took much
pleasure in seeing gifted children musicians playing the composer’s work.
The second occasion was when Inés and I visited Tal the day before he died.
Somehow it seemed appropriate that Marilyn and I sing for him the Yale
“Whiffenpoof” song, because we are all little lost sheep (“bah bah bah”) if not
exactly damned from here to eternity.
Tal is still alive. In my memory I can only see him as vital, absorbed with his
books, paintings, and music, and sharing prodigally and quietly his richness and
generosity of spirit with his family and friends.
T.N. Luther Catalogue
Recipients, July 2004
It is with sadness I report that my husband, Tal Luther, passed
away on June 4, choosing to remain at home with his family around him. He had
suffered from congestive heart failure for over a year.
With this list Tal concentrated on books about artists. Tal
worked at his desk, completing two final lists for me to issue. I am honoring
that labor, and will issue one more list after this one. I plan to continue
selling the books by listing them on ABE Books after that.
I wish to thank so many of you who have sent cards, e-mails, and called,
offering condolences and offering any help that might be needed. I appreciate
that very much, and appreciate all the kind, generous things you have expressed
about Tal. He was indeed a fine man who is very much missed. We enjoyed
forty-five years together.
I will do my best to be of service to you for any of your book
needs and wants. And, as Tal always said, “Good reading.”
— Marilyn Luther
PO Box 429, Taos, NM 87571
by Barbara Waters
During his lifetime, in a dignified fashion Tal performed
many roles well. One of these roles was vice-president of the Frank Waters
Foundation. This included his vigorous chairmanship of our Centennial
celebration in 2002. Mary Ann Torrence, another of our vice-presidents, served
with Tal. She lives elsewhere and can’t be with us on this day of tribute to Tal.
But over the telephone she told me how awed she had felt when he showed her his
matchless accumulation of over 2,500 items in his Frank Waters Literary
Collection. With obvious enthusiasm and scholarly insight, Tal went on to detail
many of his favorite gems in this collection.
At the end of their conversation, Mary Ann said, “Why, you think
of Frank as a brother, don’t you?”
And Tal, an only child, replied, “Yes. I do.”
I would like to suggest that another of Tal’s major roles was
that of his brother’s keeper. He did not put down or envy his brother ever. He
did not ask derisively, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”—as Cain is quoted early in
the book of Genesis. Tal simply went on his way, skillfully collecting Waters
treasure for future generations. Tal proceeded under the unspoken assumption, “I
am my brother’s keeper.”
He proceeded with the knowledge that his brother was rather
careless with his own treasure. For instance, Frank had told his sister to burn
all his handwritten manuscripts that were cluttering up her house. Which she
did. All but one. Besides preserving similar works for humanity, such as all
editions of Book of the Hopi, Tal wrote about collecting them; so we have an
excellent record of his arduous task. Already I miss his shared excitement over
his latest Waters find. Yet I believe that Tal’s love and faith and stewardship
will be rewarded, in many ways. For Frank and me, perhaps the first of these has
been—and continues to be—extending our mutual, eternal love and admiration to
Frank’s visionary “brother,” Talmadge Luther.
. . . . I have long felt honored by the fact that Tal respected my work
enough to collect it. I am touched deeply by this fact and have been most
grateful for his caring.
Beyond that, I have simply loved the fact that he cared so much
for books, and quietly went about putting together the wonderful collections of
various authors that you have in your house. I sense that his devotion, his
interest, his fascination with books and history and literature is a dying art,
and I thank him so much for his career in these endeavors. His soul was
certainly tuned into the world I adore and have been laboring in these past
I will miss knowing that he is out there considering as precious
the writing and writers whose lives and work have certainly inspired me in my
Tal was a keeper of the flame. Bless him.
. . . . I’ve never been sure of the essential
ingredients of important friendship. There is some spark of common bond, coupled
with admiration for wonderful traits, and the ability to put aside those that we
find less desirable. From the beginning, even though late in life, and at some
distance, both you and Tal have been loyal, interesting and steadfast friends.
So the loss hurts all the more.
He was a loving and interesting study. There was great and
persistent intellect, a natural humility and a wry sense of humor. He took
interest in all that was around him. I will miss all of that. He loved and
wanted to be loved in a gentle way. It was unique.
We all anguished at his declining health, but there was no
diminution of his mind.
Colorado Springs Attorney
Behind Antonio Mountain–For Tal
by Nathan J. Bolls
Barring the unforeseen, we talked seriously of a day this spring behind and
beyond Antonio Mountain, that freestanding extinct volcano some forty miles
northwest of Taos. Those broad, distant hills spoke to us of space and solitude,
of trees and trout streams, of endless unpeopled vistas stretching even into
Colorado. Because of our interest in Indian cultures, we could envision Mountain
Utes and Jicarilla Apaches roaming these hills as in centuries past.
Understood without speaking were the requisite gourmet lunch on
some grassy, tree-framed knoll; the folding chairs for that lazy drowse in high
ponderosa shade; and the sense of the spiritual we knew would come with being in
that place. How could we have known that the sense of the spiritual would take
Today we celebrate your life. We grieve that you no longer walk
among us. We acknowledge that you have begun the next phase of existence
somewhere, somehow, along your own cosmic arc.
I conjecture that you are looking down on us from your Elysium
and wishing we would get the message not to worry. I will sense your presence
each time I walk the Western Carson*, hoping that from your new perspective my
thoughts will be judged neither petty nor selfish.
Just know that because of the potential for reunions, we do not
fear death. But please—give us a sign that after-lunch naps still will be
permitted in ponderosa shade.
Goodbye, dear friend. We’ll see you later.
*(Antonio Mountain is situated on the eastern edge of the
Western Division of Carson National Forest.)
Tal Luther–My Friend
by Alan Payne
Through this life we have many acquaintances, but only a few very close friends.
Tal was one of my very close friends.
I first met him in Kansas in 1943, over sixty-one years ago. He
was a year ahead of me in Southwest High School and was full grown. He was
larger than most of us and played varsity football. He lettered both his junior
and senior years. He graduated with honors and was awarded a scholarship to Yale
but instead enlisted in the army.
I was surprised and honored when Tal showed up at school to
encourage me in pole vaulting on his first leave before being shipped overseas.
The coach had convinced me to enter the first varsity track meet. Thanks to
Tal’s support and encouragement, I won and went on to letter in varsity track.
After his discharge from the service he attended Yale, became a
Phi Beta Kappa, and graduated in three years.
Pat and I were married in 1952, and Tal was our first dinner
guest. Not being very experienced in the art of cooking, Pat burned our dinner.
But she knew how to make waffles. We ate waffles and bacon, and Tal never said a
Pat and I moved to California in 1953, and we kept in touch
through mail and visits. I retired in 1984; and after a family wedding in Texas,
Pat and our daughter insisted on coming to Taos. Pat had spent time here as a
child and knew we would love the mountains. We had dinner at the Stakeout
restaurant and watched an unbelievable sunset from their patio. Our daughter
decided then that she would like to live in Taos. Much to our surprise, the next
year she sold everything and moved here.
Tal and Marilyn planned to move from Kansas to Taos
when Tal retired. Marilyn was already an established artist and had been coming
to Taos in the summer for several years to paint. After moving here they invited
us as their guests each fall, and we too decided to move to Taos.
As many of you recall, Tal had a wonderful dry sense of humor. An
example of this occurred one evening on our way home from Black Lake about ten
miles from Angel Fire Country Club when we saw cattle grazing in an adjacent
field. In my peripheral vision I noticed something moving faster than the
cattle. Within a minute a large elk jumped the guardrail and landed in the
middle of the road not ten feet in front of our car. I hit my brakes and managed
to stop within inches of the elk. From the front passenger seat Tal said, “I
feel like I have an elk in my lap and fur in my teeth.” After a good laugh, we
said a little prayer.
We are going to miss Tal very much, as will many others. Taos
will not be the same without him, but I know he has gone to a better place. May
God be with him until we meet again.
A Fond Remembrance
by Mary Ann Torrence
Tal Luther had a passion for books. His discerning reading and astute collecting
provided a remarkable sharing with others. As a professional bookman, he
published catalogues of rare quality. In partnership with his talented wife,
Marilyn, who always helped to prepare these catalogues, he provided succinct
reviews of the books offered, reflecting Tal’s scholarly insights. His
contributions cannot be underestimated.
The appreciative effort Tal made in his involvement with the
Frank Waters Foundation was stimulated by his devotion to all Frank wrote in his
lifetime. In 2002 Tal compiled, edited, and published Tributes to Frank Waters.
His preface stated:
What better time to honor Frank Waters than on the 100th anniversary of his
birth on July 25, 2002. What better way to acknowledge a man’s gift to the world
than through his ideas which enrich our conception of the meaning of life. Ideas
which bridge the rational and the intuitive ways of thought, which bridge the
diversities of cultures and unify us all.
Books are the best way to package our ideas that man
has yet discovered. This short pamphlet aids us to realize our debt to Frank
In gratitude and fond remembrance, we realize the privilege of our debt to Tal
by Holly Reed
As a photographer, I often wonder what draws us to look
intently at certain ordinary objects that we encounter in our everyday
lives. I had this experience the evening I saw this gate on the Taos Ski
Valley road. It held my attention with what seemed like something more
than just its physical appearance. I had to ask what it is about an open
gate that calls to us. Is it simply curiosity—our desire to know what’s
on the other side? Is it our natural tendency to find a passageway
through a boundary? Or does the glimpse of an open gate have some other
deeper significance for us?
I decided to do a little research and was not surprised
to discover that gates are mentioned throughout ancient religion and
mythology as the connection between the physical world and that of
spirits, dreams, and the divine. In one study titled The Gates of
Dreams, Ernest Leslie Highbarger traced the literary evolution of two
distinct “gates.” One connected the living with the afterlife, or the
souls of the dead. This gate was located in the West and known as the
“Gate of Horns.” The other, located in the East, came to be known as the
“Gate of Ivory” and was the passageway to the realm of the gods.
According to Highbarger, the earliest mention of the
gates came in 3500 B.C. in the Egyptian Pyramid Texts. The deceased
Pharaoh was said to ascend into the sky-world and “pass over to the
realm of the sun-god (Re) through the Eastern Gate.” This was a
beautiful place, filled with light and happiness. When the Egyptians
began to worship Osiris as “king of the dead” around 2600 B.C., they
associated the entrance to his world in the western sky with a bull.
This passage to the afterlife, or Nether World, came to be known as the
“Gate of Horns.” It was a dark and dangerous place, mysterious and
Likewise, the two gates also appeared in Mesopotamian art
as the “Eastern Gate of the Sun” and the “Western Gate of the Sun.” The
Eastern Gate was associated with Shamash, god of light, and the Western
Gate with the Setting Sun, which had curving horns like a bull. These
metaphorical gates had a dual nature. They could be open or closed,
permitting or forbidding, light or dark, leading to happiness or
The gates later appeared in Greek mythology in the poetry
of Homer and Hesiod. Here is where the gates became associated with
dreams. In the Odyssey Homer stated that “true dreams come from the Gate
of Horns,” which he also called the entrance to Hades. Deceptive dreams
were said to come from the “Gate of Ivory,” or the entrance to Olympus,
the heavenly home of the gods.
This gate was also referred to as the “Gate of Clouds
through which the gods would enter and leave Mount Olympus.” In the
writings of Hesiod, the souls of the departed entered the world of the
dead through a “Gate of Night” in the west. Beside it was the “Gate of
Day,” which was the palace of the sun.
References to the two gates were also made in Plato’s
Republic and Virgil’s Aeneid in their descriptions of the universe. The
“Gate of Heaven” is often mentioned in the Bible. These ancient beliefs
about gates even had an influence on Shakespeare and Milton.
In Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Oberon, King
of the Fairies, said:
"I with the morning’s love
have oft made sport;
And, like a forester, the
groves may tread,
Even till the eastern gate,
all fiery red,
Opening on Neptune, with
fair blessed beams,
Turns into yellow gold his
salt green streams."
And Milton wrote:
"Right against the eastern
Where the great Sun begins
Robed in flames and amber
The clouds in thousand
I believe that gates call to us because they are
symbols of our own duality; they are our connectedness to, and
separateness from, the Infinite. During our lives, we pass through many
gates. We enter and exit our experiences, always searching for another
gate that will take us closer to what we do not know. If we look
closely at these “gates” in our lives, perhaps we will find them open;
and there we will find ourselves.
(Reed’s Gate won 1st Place Color in New Mexico
Magazine’s third annual photo contest.)
This ‘n That
The Anthropologist and the Dark Madonna, an
intriguing novel about the Virgin of Guadalupe legend, will be published
this month in time for a reunion at St. Mark’s School of Texas, a
private school in Dallas where the book’s author, Victor White, taught
for many years. About twenty-five years ago Victor, who shared his
birthday with Frank and was his good friend, left the manuscript to a
former student, now Dr. Christopher Fletcher of Santa Fe, and the FWF,
under which name the novel is copyrighted. Profits will go toward
another small FWF residents’ studio. The $20 (plus $3 postage) paperback
can be ordered through the Foundation. Taoseña Nora Anthony painted the
lovely cover image.
To Alexander Blackburn on the publication of his
new memoir Meeting the Professor: Growing Up in the William Blackburn
To Dr. Ann Jauregui, a California psychologist with a
Taos home, who is now a member of our Board of Directors. Watch next
summer for our workshop connected with her book, Epiphanies.
To Mark Rossi (our treasurer) and his new wife, Arleeta.
To all contributors to this
very special tribute newsletter.
To all those who have
already purchased, or plan to purchase as gifts for the upcoming
holidays, copies of our timeless book Rekindling the Inner Light: The
Frank Waters Centennial. A favorable review should appear in the
December New Mexico Magazine.
To my Muses for helping me
complete a new, partly humorous manuscript on aging. Send me your
agents, your publishers, your readers!
— Barbara Waters
A Word From Another Barbara
It is with satisfaction and gratitude that I put
to bed another Frank Waters Foundation newsletter. When my El Salto
neighbor Barbara Waters found out I was doing computer graphics and
typesetting a half-mile down the road, she asked if I would like to take
on the job of preparing the Newsletter for print. I was delighted,
because I respect the Foundation, and I needed the work.
Ten years later, Barbara and I have got it down to a fine
science: she always gives me exactly enough copy to fill these pages,
usually down to the very last comma; and I manage to wrangle the
computer well enough to get the pages onto disk and out the door to the
printer. Print deadlines are always hair-raising, but I think Barbara
and I secretly love the thrill.
Beyond our newsletter work, Barbara and I are Arroyo
Seceñas -- neighbors, friends. Lee Bentley introduced me to Frank and
Barbara in 1980 when I first moved from Baltimore to the paradise of
Arroyo Seco. Barbara was always doing something exciting, and I admired
her. She was my first psychotherapist, and helped me when I had little
children and an elder in the house. She told me I did too much housework
and took me horseback riding. I have drunk tea, pitted apricots, and
stamped mailings for the Foundation at her kitchen table. We have read
poetry in public together. My piano lived in the Waters house for a few
years, and I played a little for them. I grieved with her at the loss of
Frank, and at the disappearance of her coyote dog. In between
newsletters, I typeset her book, and she encouraged me in my new
graphics business, Digerati Design. I laid out a color poster for
Frank’s last book and made another for the Centennial. Barbara always
seems to have something interesting for me to work on.
But no matter how busy we are, we always find time to
catch up. Barbara and my partner, artist Ron Davis, and I sat together
at Agnes Martin’s birthday dinner two years ago and had a good gossip.
Two days ago Barbara and I were hunkered together on Quesnel Street
outside my new design studio, chatting and talking business, until it
was time for me to get cracking on this issue and time for Barbara to
peel out in her fancy little red car. I shook my head and smiled with
admiration as she zoomed away, on to the next task.
Sheltering the creative spirit is the goal of the FWF.
Having watched the Foundation grow -- at fairly close range -- I have
certainly felt nurtured and been inspired both as a writer and as a
graphic artist. Today, Barbara and I continue to enjoy that ready
understanding that springs from a mutual desire to grow in the spirit. I
see in Barbara the courage to honor one’s creativity, and the
determination to take action. We both work like crazy for the love of
the arts, and that’s our connection. I know we’ll never stop.
Graphic Designer, Taos
Frank Waters Foundation Press is Proud To Announce
the Publication of
"REKINDLING THE INNER LIGHT: The
Frank Waters Centennial"
Hard Bound (250 copies) Price $40.00 each (no tax)
Soft Bound (650 copies) Priice $20.00 each (no
Shipping: $4.00 per book
Write the Foundation to order. Send your shipping
address and please make check or money order payable to:
Frank Waters Foundation, PO Box 1127, Taos, New
Tax # 86-0723866. Thank you!
For Sale To Benefit The FW Foundation
• CHRISTMAS SPECIAL Pure Waters: Frank Waters
and the Quest for the Cosmic. $40 hard bound, no shipping charge
from FWF. $19.95 soft bound, order from book store.
• First editions of
Back-Alley Boys by Charles Hathaway. $40 hard bound, $20
soft bound + $3 shipping.
• FWF bronze paperweight
keepsake by sculptor Mark Rossi. Waters profile front, aspens
back, 3 1/4” diameter. $55, shipping included.
• Broadside by Tom Leech, Palace
of the Governors Press, 12” x 18” wide, unframed, numbered
limited edition. White handmade paper imprinted with Waters’ “life is a
great white stone” quote overlapping stone sketch. $50, shipping
Spooky Halloween, Happy Thanksgiving, and Merry
For more information, please contact: The Frank
MEMBERSHIP TO THE FRANK WATERS
You are invited to participate in our vision and
educational goals by
becoming a member of the Frank Waters Foundation,
tax-exempt public charity. Please complete this
form and mail to:
Frank Waters Foundation, PO Box 1127, Taos, NM
________ Founder ($10,000+)
________ Major Benefactor ($5,001-$10,000)
________ Benefactor ($501-$5,000)
________ Patron ($251-$500)
________ Sponsor ($101-$250)
________ Commercial (over $100)
________ Family ($30-$100)
________ Individual ($15-$29)
Amount ___________________ Category Chosen
Please make your check or money order payable to
Frank Waters Foundation.
Tax #86-0723866. Thank You.