Wm Laban Eddy
This is a book of rhymes, covering numerous subjects over a number of years, from the great depression of the thirty's, through world war two and up until the present.
He was born and raised in a small village in the Nebraska panhandle. Spent three years in the army in the Philippines and Japan. Married a girl from Hawaii. They had nine children, the first born in Kauai T. H. Went back to Nebraska spent most of his career as a carpenter. Has spent the last thirty years in the Arizona desert on the California border.
Sassafras
Small pot on my mother's stove a boiling there you see. Weather's warm the snow is gone, my Mother's making sassafras tea. It was almost like a ritual, but it wasn't a religious thing. It was just a tonic, a way to start the spring. Sassafras is a dried up bark. It comes from a small tree. We bought it from the druggist. He kept it in the pharmacy. I like the sweet and bitter taste, the color too I think. It sort of whets your senses, it's a nice and rosy pink. I like a nice cup of coffee, don't care much for tea I fear. But I like a cup of sassafras tea to start the spring each year.
Veterans Day
I heard loud talk and laughter so I opened up the doors. And written there across the bar, it said Veterans of Foreign wars. It was a bunch of gray haired men just like me and you. They've been celebrating since the end of world war two. Back in the nineteen forties they were drafted for the war. They're getting old and dying fast, there's not that many any more. Now there are other veterans clubs. Whichever one you choose. A place to get together, to gab and drink some booze. World war one vets are all gone. Viet Nam vets are turning gray. I know some one will carry on and raise the flag on Veterans Day.
