Dedicated With Love

An eagle is soaring on high

 

Across an azure blue sky

 

A tiny cabin sits upon a rolling hillside

 

Near a winding river stream

 

The smoke of longhouses and campfires in the distance

 

The smell of cedar, sweet grass and sage is awesome

 

As the sound of drums and flutes fill the air

 

Two children at play

 

Two grandfathers watching them

 

From not so far away sitting talking atop of the hill

 

It is a beautiful day filled with sunshine

 

A few cottony clouds floating by

 

Two different cultures

 

Two wonderful old friends

 

The little boy is half Irish and half Cherokee

 

The little girl as Irish as she can be

 

That's the way it was when Melba met George

 

There was no such thing as radio or TV

 

Just moments spent enjoying one another's company

 

It was the turn of the 19th century

 

Times were changing quite rapidly

 

But Melba and George were young and carefree

 

When they met it was at a Halloween party

 

There was singing and dancing and so much to do

 

George was handsome and tall and wore long black braids

 

His skin naturally bronzed from the sun

 

Melba had pale ivory skin with freckles on her face

 

She was petite with locks of golden hair

 

Soon the two of them became a pair

 

They destined to marry and so

 

George left his father's Indian Reservation

 

Moved into the big city with Melba as his bride

 

She bore him three children

 

A daughter and two sons

 

Betty Eileen, Jack and Ronald

 

Just starting out they had a beautiful life together

 

With the hopes, plans and dreams

 

That all young couples have

 

Until one day tragedy struck

 

It was during the time of "The Great Depression"

 

Times were tough and jobs were scarce

 

George was out of work all but for running a small farm

 

He made just enough to keep his family fed

 

Not many luxuries could they afford

 

But they were happy

 

An old acquaintance of George's

 

Stopped by their house to visit one day

 

George was headed into town

 

To pick up groceries and a few things at the local market

 

He asked his friend would he like to accompany him

 

The friend obliged to tag along

 

That is when destiny or fate went terribly wrong

 

As they entered the market, his friend pulled out a gun

 

Threatened the store owner behind the counter to lay low

 

George spoke up and said

 

"I'll have no part in this, I am not that kind of man..."

 

At that point his acquaintance stepped back

 

And, aimed the gun directly at George

 

George turned to leave the store when his assailant

 

Shot him in the side, as George fell and crumpled to the floor

 

The store owner grabbed the gun from the shooter

 

And so held him at bay until help arrived

 

By that time George had bled profusely

 

He was rushed to the nearest hospital

 

When Melba and their three little children arrived

 

George died with Melba at his side

 

In her loving arms she held him

 

As he took his last breath of life

 

My mother was Betty Eileen

 

She was six years old at the time

 

Of the shooting death of her father

 

Her brothers Jack was three and Ronald one and half

 

She never got over the shock of losing her "Daddy"

 

This poem is dedicated with love to my Grandfather

 

 

Reviews

[Rhiannon Dragonraine]

Sad and tragic, Thank you for sharing; it is always hard to loose someone especially when it is in violence like that. Thank you for keeping them alive in story.

[Cory]

This IS A Poem Not A Story And IN My Contest I Only Accepted STORIES

[Silent Kim aka mizmetap..]

You have such a talent of telling a story and paying tribute to those you love. Another excellent write.

[Lexi Nicole]

Such a sad story, but beautifully written. I felt a little forced in the beginning, and there were some spots it didn't flow as easily as it did in others, but that doesn't really detract from the true beauty of the piece. You've written a lovely tribute to not just your grandfather but your whole family. Well done!

-Howl

[Just Manoosh]

This is an amazing and sad story Debileah.

You write is written with such love and clarity, I feel weird saying that I enjoyed reading this ..... but because of the delicate way you crafted it, I did.

It makes me want to write the story of how my grandparents met, and in time lost.

Love
Mx

[Legion]

:(

[Dave "Doc" Rogers]

What a sad story. The spoken verse style really adds to the storytelling aspect of the piece. Our ancestors aren't just names in a book or underneath a photo. They were real people with real stories. Thank you for sharing this.

Cheers!
Doc.

[Pax Analog]

A memorial poem rendered with a well-etched simplicity.

Poignant reflection on the vagaries of fate of what preceded one's own time, in one's family line.

Makes me genealogically more curious, as well.

Vividly cinematic interlude as well; one can see this tragedy unfolding in mind's-eye.

Fine caring tribute.