In hs younger days my father was a boxer. He would "ride the rails" with his buddies going from fair to fair to fight whomever was in the ring for money. His name got around. He was known as "Whitey" Noponen. Alzheimer's disease didn't catch up with him until he was in his 70's actually.
Does he hear a bell a ringing
Does he hear the count go down
Did he smile though one eye blackened
Was it "Whitey" come to town
That's a boy who's from a small town
Immigrant parents had he
Seven children all together
Time the Great Depression be
Well this youngster's name was Matti
Heard a diff'rent drummer play
Hung around the gym a sparring
Dreamnt to be a champ one day
Oh he rode the rails a going
Town to town and fair to fair
All the people called him "Whitey"
Blue eyed boy with wild blonde hair
Word of "Whitey" got around some
Fancy footwork guard held high
Left a trail of knocked out boxers
As the years went flying by
One day "Whitey" looked around him
Things were not looking the same
Seemed the mem'ry wasn't clear now
Sometimes he'd forget your name
The good doctor called it "punch drunk"
Back in nineteen thirty eight
Gloves are hangin' with the robe that
"Whitey" wore from state to state
Does he hear a bell a ringing
Does he hear the count go down
Did he smile though one eye blackened
Was it "Whitey" come to town
WHAT A TERRIFIC SHARING THIS IS, JANE!!! ENJOYED EVERY BIT OF IT. THANK YOU FOR SHARING WHAT I KNOW MUST BE ONE OF YOUR ENDEARED MEMORIES. I THOUGHT YOUR DAD WAS A MINISTER BUT, AND WHY NOT....I GUESS ONE CAN DO BOTH. SERVING GOD ON ONE HAND AND TAKING CARE OF THE FAMILY IN ANOTHER HONEST, OBVIOUSLY ENJOYED, WAY. THANKS FOR SHARING, MY FRIEND. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...HIS+INSPIRATIONS
Your father would feel so honored to read your tribute to him! Most fighters seem to come to a difficult end of their life, but I'll bet many people were thrilled when "Whitey came to town" and strutted his stuff for all to see!! I love this one, Jane.
I never heard of a Finnish boxer before! Shades of Paul Simon's “The Boxer.” This is the finest poem you've written by far.
My father told of being in the Golden Gloves in his youth. Never said anything about winning any fights, but he had the cauliflower ears to prove it. He also had a couple of ruptured eardrums that kept him out of World War II. I wish now I asked him more about those days when every man had to find a way to make money anyway he could.
What a grand legacy your father left you, Jane. Not many of us can look back and find such a colorful character which bears our own genes and DNA. I'm very glad you wrote this,now I see where you got your wonderful individuality.
In the Whirlwind is a poetic storm that frees history from the cages of corruption and puts it in the hands of everyday people. Words are weaved into a new fashion statement that has nothing to do with runways but everything to do with projects!
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have its downside... But your father would
be right proud of you for speaking of it Jane
Love and Light
Lily
Joy L. Hale
budd
My father told of being in the Golden Gloves in his youth. Never said anything about winning any fights, but he had the cauliflower ears to prove it. He also had a couple of ruptured eardrums that kept him out of World War II. I wish now I asked him more about those days when every man had to find a way to make money anyway he could.
Ron