Barbara Walker: In Memoriam

Having been deeply involved in the knitting renaissance since about 2008, I have come to know about the Knitterati who were there all along, through the bad ol’ acrylic 70s, still knitting with wool, still curiously curating the craft that their grandmothers had known, knitting socks in WWI. Elizabeth Zimmermann was one of these. Barbara Walker was another. I have three of her books, stitch dictionaries that involved massive amounts of research in the pre-internet days. But she was much, much more than this. Her son has made a modest website outlining her various far-flung achievements, some of which were not known to me (for example, her humanism; I did know a bit about her feminism and tarot work, though not so much.)

He has also written a diary of her last few weeks and days. Having been through something like this recently myself, my heart aches for him, especially since his mother was in considerable pain from her cancer and was on painkillers sufficient to dull it but that also made communication difficult.

Sleep soundly, dear Barbara. You were so generous with your knowledge, your mind, your self. May your cable always twist in the direction you want, may your mosaics be rich and always a surprise, and may your ssk’s lie flat and even. We’ll miss you.