In her town in Kentucky, she rarely appeared,

Some said they hadn’t seen her for near twenty years,

But they found her still sitting beneath a coal oil light,

With a note from her husband clenched in her hand tight,

How often she’d read it, nobody could say,

But she read it again as she was passing away,

Oh the paper was tattered, yellow and old,

And starting to tear along the creases and folds,

But it started, “Dear Eta, I hope that you’re well,

This Alamo Mission is as lonely as hell,

Now as you know I’m not much with paper and pen,

So I’m writing this note with some help from a friend,

Also you know, I’m not much with the prayers,

But I know that you talk to the fellow upstairs,

So I wondered if next time you kneel down to pray,

You might take a few moments just to mention my name,

Would you tell him I’m sorry that I cuss like I do,

And be sure to thank him for sending me you,

Say that I’m grateful you’ve been part of my life,

Because I couldn’t imagine a more wonderful wife,

And would you ask him dear Eta, if he could let death come quick,

Not like Jim Bowie, bed ridden and sick,

You see the truth is my daring, I think my time may be short,

There are more of them Mexican boys than we thought,

It seems Santa Anna has five thousand men,

What can less than two hundred of us do against them?

Except buy up some time until Houston arrives,

And pray God in his mercy lets someone survive,

They've charged at us twice and we sent them back where they came,

But there’s no point in pretending they won’t do that again,

And I’ve got a bad feeling about the next time they show,

We’ve got a whole lot of wounded and ammunition is low,

Colonel Travis has scratched out a line in the sand,

Said if we want to go home, cross that line and we can,

And don’t feel ashamed about crossing that line,

Because each man’s a hero and can hold his head high,

And I so wanted to cross it, but it didn’t feel right,

So Eta my darling, I chose to stay here and fight,

Though I know in my heart what the outcome will be,

There’s more Mexicans here than a hound-dog has fleas,

They’ve bombarded the gates, it’s only time till they fall,

And Santa Anna has vowed that he’ll slaughter us all,

So next time you’re praying would you ask him this too,

Send someone to love you as much as I do,

If he could make him good humored, educated and versed,

Kind hearted and loving because that’s what you deserve,

Someone to protect you until we meet bye and bye,

In that great ever after, up there in the sky,

Eta I’m sorry that I must leave you alone,

You’re the most gentle woman that I’ve ever known,

Would you think of me kindly, but just once in a while,

And don’t ever be lonely or lose that angelic smile,

Because I’ll be up there waiting, until you’re with me again,

Signed Daniel. J. Carter, with love till the end,

Well that’s what he’d written; it was a hell of a note,

Everybody that read it had a lump in their throat,

Or tears in their eyes that were ready to flow,

For the note to Kentucky sent so long ago.

By S.E.Ralph

16-7-2004