One Life (from Gandy Dancer to farmer)

Cover of The Civil War (American Heritage Books)

Hugh

Hugh wasn’t
sure if he was mostly Irish or mostly Choctaw,

But at the
age of eleven there was a determined set to his jaw,

From a
hard-working family, he was but one of ten,

Steady,
reliable, and able to outwork any two men,

Respectful of
his father but tired of being knocked about,

He knew if
he remained at home, his future was in doubt,

One night
when all were exhausted and fast asleep,

He gathered
a few things along with his rifle to keep,

Slung over
his shoulder were his food and rifle reloads,

He hurried
along until he found the tracks of the railroad,

Following
the rails for hours and then hiding outside town,

He hopped
the first train that was westward bound,

Hugh met up
with the foreman of a rough work crew,

The foreman
smiled, “Just exactly what can you do?”

Hugh wasn’t
ready to prove he could outwork two men,

So he said
boldly, “I can supply your crew with meat now and then,”

The foreman
laughed, “You’re young but I admire your spunk,”

“Tomorrow
I’ll see what you can do, now let’s find you a bunk,”

Before long
the crew was enjoying the fruits of his skill,

The foreman
noticed Hugh didn’t waste shots or kill for the thrill,

One day on a
hunting expedition Hugh heard a gruff voice,

“Give me
that rifle, boy, you ain’t got no choice,”

Now Hugh had
learned to treat others with respect,

They should
return the favor, something he would expect,

“I don’t
bother anything of others is my bottom line,

What’s yours
is yours and what’s mine is mine,”

“Hand over
that rifle, boy, and you’d better make it quick,”

Otherwise I’ll just take it, after I give your
rear a kick,”

The rifle
was Hugh’s, and to make a point he fired one round,

The man
cursed loudly and made a hissing sound,

“I think you
might be old enough to be digging ditches,

But to
challenge me you’re getting too big for your britches,”

“If you’re
going to test a man, then you’ll die like a man,

Because I
can shoot faster than any man can,”

The bully
grabbed his gun and swung it around,

One bullet
was fired and then he hit the ground,

The shocked
look on his face, one of complete surprise,

His life was
over, shot squarely between the eyes,

The sheriff
came by but after a look at the evidence,

Declared
Hugh was innocent, “Clearly self-defense!”

With one man
missing from the railroad crew,

The foreman
asked Hugh to fill in there too,

“We’re one man short I won’t take no for an
answer,

You’ll still
bring in meat, and you’ll be a gandy dancer,”

Not only was
he able to pull his own weight,

He stopped a
train robbery and sealed one bandit’s fate,

The robber
was bold to walk down the aisles,

But that was
the bandit’s last day to smile,

Though
roving bands of disgruntled men roamed the west,

Many were
not eager to confront and decided it best,

To just watch
and wait to see which train Hugh rode,

They worked
it out with a secret code,

Hugh settled
down and married the daughter of a judge,

The judge
wanted a southern man, but he didn’t carry a grudge,

The War had long been over and Hugh never
claimed a side,

The judge, a
Confederate officer, still talked of the war with pride,

But the
agreement between Hugh, and Emma, his wife,

Was to love
each other totally, and not talk about strife,

Hugh’s compassion and truth were known round
about,

After
several years had gone by, his name carried clout,

He and Emma
had nine children who were active and loud,

They were
all industrious, which made Hugh proud,

The children
had multiple chores to do around the farm,

Laughing as
they worked, they did nobody harm,

But their
chickens didn’t stay on the right side of the fence,

And
according to Hugh, they didn’t have “a lick of sense”,

His neighbor
shouted, “Keep those chickens off my land!”

“I don’t
like Union chickens, I’m sure you understand,”

Hugh
swallowed his pride and let the insult slide,

If it wasn’t
for the children he’d had the man’s hide,

A few days
later one of his kids went under the fence,

She grabbed
her pet chicken in the chicken’s defense,

One bullet
whizzed by and stirred up some dirt,

Another wild
shot but nobody was hurt,

One of the
others screamed for their dad,

All the
commotion told Hugh it was bad,

Hugh grabbed
his rifle and headed out the door,

He heard his
neighbor yelling, “I can’t take it anymore!”

“Your union
children were trespassing on my land,

If you had
gotten an education, then you’d understand,”

Hugh tried
to keep calm, he’d promised his wife,

But no one
should ever threaten his child’s life,

“If you ever
shoot this way again you’ll catch lead,

This time
you’re lucky, I’ll just warn you instead,”

The neighbor
laughed. “You’re just a farmer man,

I was raised
in the South as a cultured gentleman,”

“I don’t
take threats lightly, especially from a union man,”

He turned
quickly and fired the pistol in his hand,

Hugh was a
fraction behind but his rifle was steady,

He fired
once before his neighbor’s second was ready,

Hugh’s
bullet tore the pistol from the man’s grasp,

There was
silence and smoke before he began to gasp,

Hugh’s
bullet had hit the gun and ricocheted into the man’s chest,

Hugh had killed the man, and the sheriff
showed up for his arrest,

Hugh went
quietly, sure it was self-defense,

But the
charges filed against him led to some suspense.

The Trial

The civil
war had been over for forty years,

Yet there
were those who were still shedding tears,

And fighting
their hated enemy in mental battles,

Strutting
about town as if their sabres still rattled,

The
prosecutor was a man who liked to build his case,

A
reenactment of the Civil War was his base,

Hugh was
portrayed as a Union man with a grudge,

Which didn’t
sit well with the Confederate judge,

Railroad
men, townsfolk, neighbors called on Hugh’s behalf,

Claimed he
was a honest hardworking man who liked to laugh,

But most
admitted they were afraid to misbehave,

They
believed that anyone who challenged him would lie in a grave,

Things did
not go well for Hugh at the trial,

Rumors said
he’d dance on the gallows or be jailed for awhile,

Before the
trial ended, his luck suddenly changed,

His wife
approached the judge with a plan arranged,

The judge
called for a recess and they met in another room,

“Judge,” she
said quietly, “before you announce Hugh’s doom,

I want you
to consider the cards I might deal,

Hugh might
go to jail but your fate will be sealed,”

“My dad was
a general and respected as well,

He was a
proud gentleman but he knew war was hell,

He would
have preferred that I marry someone from the south,

But he
admired Hugh’s character and the words from his mouth,

He also said
that the nation could only be healed,

If justice
was fair and the truth revealed,”

“You know
that Hugh is telling nothing but the truth,

But if you
need more testimony, I’ll enter the booth,

If you dare
dismiss my testimony or even imply,

That the
daughter of a respected officer would lie,”

“You might
upset a few of Dad’s former friends,

Who would
take it as his reputation you’ll offend,

If you
should sentence Hugh based on other issues,

Then I’d
sure hate to be in your shoes,”

The judge
didn’t move as she swished through the door,

His eyes
were staring blankly at the floor,

He had
promised his friends that Hugh had to pay,

Now he had
to be creative and find another way,

His friends
wanted retaliation for losing the war,

They wanted
Hugh to hang and nothing more,

The judge
was caught between a rock and a hard place,

But he could
still redeem himself without losing face,

“All rise,”
the sheriff intoned as the judge entered, “Now take your seats,”

The crowd
was quiet, it didn’t want to miss a beat,

The
prosecutor was smiling and expecting a win,

There were
those in the audience expressing chagrin,

Without
raising his eyes the judge said,

“The
nation’s wounds have too long bled,

All the brokenness we have to repair,

That can
only happen if justice is fair,”

“The preponderance
of evidence is plain to me,

That the
accused is innocent in every degree,

If there is
nothing more then I’ll insist,

This trial
is over, Case Dismissed!

There were
those who were in shock,

The ones
expecting a conviction, the southern flock,

From the
union supporters there was a flurry of tears,

And then realizing
victory, a chorus of cheers,

The judge
rose and went out the back door,

He wasn’t
sure he could please anybody anymore,

He liked his
job but maybe it was time,

To move
along to another clime,

For the rest
of his life Hugh lived down on the farm,

Raising
children and animals and doing no harm,

Of course
Emma and Hugh grew old together,

Loving each
other and talking about the weather.

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“Not All the Crooks Are Home!”

Image via Wikipedia

Tule fog rolls in from the direction of the old Tule Lake bed,

 Sometimes it catches newcomers to the Valley by surprise, it’s said,

 Other times it creeps in silently, shutting out lights, dense and deep,

 Soothing, a cool mist on my face, a blanket of moist air that will keep,

 Temperatures from dipping down to freezing or it can be a silent alarm,

Reminding me it hides those who are waiting to do mental or bodily harm,

Becky completed her shift at the theater, after wiping the popcorn machine,

 The counter, the fixtures, and all the other things she needed to clean,

Gave a wave and left, not staying to talk because the fog was unusually dense,

 Visibility was getting worse, getting home quickly and safely just made sense,

I swept the lobby, checked the outside doors, and waited for the movie to end,

The front doors I closed as the last patron left, not wanting my time to extend,

Anxious to go, as soon as the projectionist appeared, I turned out the last light,

Wary of people hanging out or cruising the main street looking for a fight,

This night the fog had chased them all away, filling the emptiness with silence,

The fog was soup, blocking sight and sound, in every direction forming a fence,

 I shivered and said aloud, “This is creepy. Even the crooks are home.”

But how could I know I was wrong? How could I know one liked this foam?

Outside of town there were no street lights but a narrow unmarked road,

With visibility limited to twenty feet, it led the way to my abode,

I drove with door open and leaning out, hoping no cars came my way,

Tense and dripping with sweat, I pulled safely into my driveway,

Nothing could make me venture out into the fog again today,

But all along, I was so wrong.

Becky was not so lucky.  The fog was the beginning of her nightmare,

Someone waited for her in the thick gray night and she wasn’t aware,

Wearing a ski mask to hide his identity, next to her house he stayed,

The fog obscured him, but he wanted no chance to be displayed,

 He noted the pattern of her arrivals and had planned this for weeks,

He told no one what he was thinking, disclosure meant leaks,

 Fog was an ideal condition which suited his purpose, he waited to act,

Weather reports were noted daily, and he looked for one fact,

High pressure would bring fog, lifting the moisture from the ground,

It would make him invisible, and he was sure fog deadened all sound,

 He wanted her to be alone, although he could handle any guests,

 This was his first time and he was nervous, he didn’t want any extra tests,

 Tired of feeling controlled by the government and the people in his life,

 He was ready to overpower someone who could give him little strife,

He saw Becky working behind the snack counter but she didn’t notice him,

“This time she would! Maybe she would even like me,” but that was a whim,

 “No, it’s too late for that,” he thought. “She had her big chance,”

 Controlling her by fear had its excitement. He wanted to make her dance,

Down the street an empty house for sale sufficed as his base,

He studied her house plan once again, an exit ready just in case,

With careful planning of every detail, his crime would be hard to trace,

As he looked at his notes he was satisfied, everything was in place,

Becky arrived on schedule, pulled into the garage, and turned the lights on,

 She read for thirty minutes, took her bath, after the drapes were drawn,

The sliding glass door opened, right on schedule she put her cat out,

He pushed past her and roughly jerked her inside, before she could shout,

 A six inch blade pressed against her throat.  He snapped, “Don’t try anything!

Or you will be lying on the floor not able to talk or sing,”

I only want your cash so don’t do anything rash!”

 Relieved that this was a burglary, Becky had no thoughts of rape,

 He continued, “Put your hands behind your back. I don’t want you to escape,”

 He tied her hands behind her back and said, “I’d better blindfold you,

 You might cause me problems, no telling what you might do,”

 She heard him eating something in the kitchen and then he was back,

“Hope you don’t mind if I fixed myself a little snack,”

He rummaged through her dresser, “I’m taking a few things, dear,”

Something about the word he said, suddenly became clear,

 Dear! Her memory was jolted, the words reminding her of a man,

 Who bought popcorn at the theater and off to the side would stand,

He had called her dear that same way. She was sure he was the one,

His voice whispered, “Now, sweetheart, we’re going to have some fun.” 

“You said you just wanted my money,” she said in dismay,

“Shut up! I didn’t say you could talk! Be quiet and obey!”

“Don’t hurt me,” Becky whimpered, her voice sounding far and remote,

“I don’t want to hurt you.  Not another word or I’ll cut your pretty throat.” 

He secured her hands to the bedposts and left her blindfold intact,

 Her clothing was ripped off, she was naked but she dared not react,

 Quickly he was on her and thrusting while she endured the pain,

 Afraid he would kill her, if she screamed or cried it would be in vain,

 “You asked for it.  You acted like you were too good for me,

 I knew you wanted it, the way you dressed, it was plain to see,

 You could learn to love me, you know, and it wouldn’t have to be this way,” 

When he was done he said, “We could make love every day,”

 “Leave the blindfold on,” he cautioned, “I’ll be watching close by,

Follow my instructions, dear, or someone will have to die!” 

He could have been somewhere near but she struggled to be free,

After a few minutes when time stood still, finally she called me.

 I walked into my house, out of the fog, when I heard my cell,

I couldn’t understand Becky, she was hysterical, her voice rose and fell,

As I listened, her story began to emerge, about the knife,

About the rape and how he threatened her life,

“He was waiting for me,” she sobbed, “and grabbed me as I opened my door,

He put a knife to my throat.  He raped me!” And then she told me more,

“Becky, did you call the police?” But I knew the answer to that,

 She would have locked herself in a closet after retrieving her cat,

She was wary of the police and all the questions they would ask,

“I’m on my way, Becky.” By herself, I didn’t think she was up to the task,

I called the police and hugged Becky while they asked about her sex life,

 Whether I was the rapist, were we a couple in a relationship with strife,

Was there a reasonable explanation why she was up this late,

Maybe her date misunderstood while she was out on a date,

 Was it a case of payment and she refused to do sex,

Or was it simply a problem she had with an ex,

 The questions were accusatory though Becky’s eyes showed fear,

But the policemen began threatening me for trying to interfere,

They let me to take her to the hospital but even there,

The questions were invasive, it seemed no one cared, 

To the police, Becky didn’t appear to be hurt physically, so it was no big deal,

They could not identify with being traumatized as being an ordeal,

 They continued talking and joking until a captain came in,

 Suddenly they sobered and treated us differently then,

Becky was convinced she knew her rapist but he never went to trial,

Everything that was reported just went into a file,

Because Becky did not have cuts or bruises that could be easily seen,

 The opposing lawyers accused her of venting her spleen,

 “You’re trying to make something out of nothing,” one lawyer said,

 “A lover’s spat gone wrong, you could have made up instead,”

Becky was outraged by the way she was maltreated,

Sometimes I took her to appointments and discussions that were heated,

 But often she went with women who she thought understood,

 She petitioned and marched and did what she could,

 There was progress regarding rape laws but then there were some,

 Who fought to block any headway, each and every crumb,

In one state, a congressman presented a bill to change the terms,

Of the law regarding rape, thus opening up a can of worms,

 Instead of “victim”, the woman would be called “the accuser”,

Instead of being a rape victim, Becky was in the hands of an “abuser”,

Privately one person suggested changing the word “rape”,

To a phrase more suitable to gentile tastes, taking on a different shape,

Rape could be called “assault with a friendly weapon,” which is easier to say,

 Although it would not take the act of aggression and violence away,

Rape could be classified as a misdemeanor rather than a felony,

And wipe away years of progress gained through fears and agony,

As for Becky, she is much more cautious and doesn’t like to be alone,

She carries pepper spray, a non-registered handgun, and her cell phone,

She’s still recovering from reactions she received from people she knew,

She’s not completely healed and she hates that one person through and through,

And when the fog rolls in, she wants to have someone by her side,

 Someone who understands her stress and trauma and can confide,

Usually that person is me because I became Becky’s best friend,

I married her and vowed to protect her till the end.

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Broken People

Broken People

Broken people will change the world,

I’ve heard some sages say,

If that’s the truth, the gospel truth,

Then I’m here to lead the way,

My own broken past is there to see,

Strangers lifted me when I stumbled and fell,

They saw something worthwhile in me,

 The unfulfilled dreams within my well,

Feelings that were locked within my soul,

Untouched by outsiders who knew me not,

Unless they really listened to my goal,

Careful to discover what my dreams sought,

I made many trips in my sordid life,

Carrying dreams and hope to weak and poor,

And whenever I saw the results of strife,

My heart was hurt, deeply to the core,

Along the way I discovered my own weak spots,

About the motives I believed so true and good,

They were wrapped around my egotistical thoughts,

And the good I did was vastly misunderstood,

I was a broken person, trying to relate,

Making mistakes on the side trips I took,

But like a modern Robin Hood, I tempted fate,

And took things, by hook or by crook,

I changed my life, I changed my name,

Upon my shoulders I carried earth’s weight,

I fit in with society and played the game,

But I was a broken person, I learned too late,

I wanted to go unnoticed, but already I had fame,

Captured and jailed for things I had done,

My own broken past had caught me at last,

When my trial was over, no victories were won,

The evils I had done, would the good surpass,

But out of the shadows people began to appear,

Explaining how I had showed them how to cope,

Started them anew and took away their fear,

My broken life had given them reasons to hope,

In me they discovered someone who cared,

I told them, “I’ll walk with you, I’ll show you the way,

There are treasures in this world to be shared,

But you have to believe in yourself, day after day,”

That had been easy for me to say back then,

Being broken and changing, others could relate,

Now I’ll need to eat my words, thick or thin,

I think I can change again, I’ll set the date,

My mistakes will be paid, I’ll let my love shine,

I want to be honest, so I’ll share my history,

And I’ll try to reach others who need a lifeline,

Something good will come out of this, wait and see.