Some might wonder where I learned to love the music of words. When I was a kid, I found a moldy old book in the garage. It contained poems like this: THE SHOOTING OF DAN McGREW A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon; The kid that handles the music-boxContinue reading “The Shooting of Dan McGrew”
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The Whoop-Up Trail
From Benton up to Alberta, the whisky road it was, T’was the perfect trail for them that flaunt the laws. Eighteen Sixty-Nine, Fort Hamilton they built, A pint of rotten whisky will cost you a pelt. Blackfoot, Blood or Piegan, they come on in to trade, Many with their lives or souls, for the fireContinue reading “The Whoop-Up Trail”
Science
A COVID Poem How do we get from here to there? Or do we sit with vacant stare? Is there a problem to be solved? How should you become involved? Define the problem, make it plain, Then sit down, and use your brain. What might fix it? You will ask, Testing that becomes your task.Continue reading “Science”
The Clickin’ and the Clack
The welded rail don’t click, and the welded rail don’t clack, and the huffin’ of the Choo Choo ain’t never comin’ back. There’s no one left so hardy, he wants to stoke the coal, it’s diesel or electric if you need the train to roll. Ain’t no rod to drive the wheel, no soot uponContinue reading “The Clickin’ and the Clack”
Ford Has a Better Idea
Well Maybe not… Back in the Sixties Ford Motor Company coined the slogan, “Ford Has a Better Idea!” Those were heady times, Boss Mustangs, Talladega NASCAR racers, F-150 Trucks, the GT-40. Everything Ford did generated excitement and sales. Trying to appeal not just to car nuts, Ford made all of their cars stylish and easyContinue reading “Ford Has a Better Idea”
The Deadly Cargo of the St Peters
The Upper Missouri Smallpox Epidemic of 1837 By 1837 the fur trade along the Upper Missouri had settled in to a comfortable routine. The advent of the annual steamboat had done more to enhance the trade than any other factor. Crews no longer had to endure the months-long, backbreaking journey up the river. No moreContinue reading “The Deadly Cargo of the St Peters”
“Doc”
We never used his name, we just called him “Doc”, He was my outfit’s Corpsman when I hit the Rock. Like the one’s before him, kept us all on track, From Iwo to Khe Sahn, they always had our back. Held Sick Call for the slackers, gave out APC’s*, Mecuricome got slapped on all theContinue reading ““Doc””
Métis
I never knew if she was Chippewa or Cree. Perhaps it was her French side a people called Métis. Somewhere near Red River, her forbearers did reside, They traded and they hunted and did it all with pride. The Company brought their fathers into the fur country, Their mothers were the tribal gals, the kidsContinue reading “Métis”
Mortared Again
Coffee cup shakin’ in his hand, Thousand-yard stare, poundin’ sand. Bad dream robbed him of his sleep, Wonderin’ if his soul will keep. The mortars from the tube they pop, Don’t know where the rounds will drop. They’re walkin’ toward his lonely post, He’s prayin’ that he isn’t toast. Then he wakes up with aContinue reading “Mortared Again”
Runnin’ the Border
Running the Bo It’s been five long years since we moved away from the border. I miss it, but it’s still only 20 miles away. It is a wild and crazy place, full of contradictions. Cultures collide, then mix and sometimes even meld. People are sociable, opinionated and thorny as the Cholla cactus.Continue reading “Runnin’ the Border”
Outlaws, Outrages and Outright Lies 