Ph: Life: Growing Up, La! * - Chapter 1 - Rev 4 Poem by Brian Johnston
Ph: Life: Growing Up, La! * - Chapter 1 - Rev 4
- - - Chapter 1: Early Days - - -
My father was a rich man, la, *
Though schooled in poverty, (1)
As such he seldom raised his head,
Displayed humility.
The center of the ‘Dust Bowl' years,
Just thirty miles from home.
And children, seniors died from this
(Their lungs were clogged with loam) .
A huge tornado struck Woodward, (2)
Destroying our downtown,
It, cut a swath near one mile wide,
Dad fought back, doubled down.(3)
When storm had cleared, sky was fire red,
Dad put me in the car,
But roads were blocked in just three blocks,
The world become bizarre!
Barbed wire that penetrated trees,
Homes cracked like eggs insides,
Our home had grass blades drove like nails,
Into its wooden sides.
The biggest storm in history,
My dad was gone for days,
Storm victims sleeping on our floor,
The whole town in a daze.
Dad's rebuilt store, nicest in town,
Our home ‘across the track, '(4)
Attended too the poorest school,
But did not suffer lack.
Appearance was Dad's calling card,
No pretense there to see,
For ‘living too high on the hog, '(5)
Caused bankers misery.
The school board melted to Mom's charm,
(Or to her tongue of fire) ,
For with Dad's stature in the town,
Few dared to risk her ire!
Good teachers forced to leave rich schools,
Complained it wasn't fair,
Till they encountered Sis and I,
And found that they could care.
That was my mother's legacy,
And ‘ART' (6) the air she breathed,
Though slight she strongly stood her ground,
Our future she bequeathed.
We did not know the difference,
Just sometimes things were tough,
Our clothing did set us apart,
We always had enough.
There were some very poor kids there,
The same clothes thru the week,
Impoverished not just in clothes,
But that which all men seek.
I had a bike to ride around,
Of course it was a Schwinn,
And almost always home for lunch,
For Mom thought we were thin,
With two desserts at every meal,
(And Mom was quite a cook.)
But if you didn't clean your plate,
From Dad you got a look,
The waste of food a mortal sin,
A thump upon the ‘bean, '(7)
Made every meal traumatic fare,
And tears a daily scene.
My guess is Dad got worse than me,
Depression's (8) oldest child,
I mourn the innocence he lost,
That made his wrath seem mild.
Our parent's roles were well defined,
My dad brought home the bread,
My mom the joy of hearth and home,
Dad's entrance met with dread.
My dad did most the punishments,
But whippings weren't enough,
We even weren't allowed to cry,
To show we had the stuff!
Small wonder romance frightened me,
(So sure I'd be like him) ,
To challenge violence I feared,
Chose music over gym.
August 20,2014
Additional voting or rating of this poem and be done by simply including your vote in a comment on the poem. I will update my poems rating later in a way that blocks Merov from altering the points given to the poem by more friendly reviewers. Apperantly the only number keys that work on Merov's computer are 0 and 1.: -) Poor Merov.
Poet's Notes:
An auto-biographical look at family life impacted by both the American Great Depression and the Dust Bowl years (1930-1950) in the Mid-West, divided into Chapters.
This is a work of love and homage to the courageous and desperate people who survived both. I hope that you enjoy it. New Chapters will be released as I complete them.
* When I was in the American Peace Corps in Tanzania, East Africa we had a group of 7 surveying assistants that were always with us in the first year and that we became very close to. Their conversation was always sprinkled with 'la' and I thought it was kind of cute. Like they might say to me, 'Why don't we stop in this village for some food, la.' They used this word kind of like I use the word ‘OK' in casual conversation. 'You've got food in your teeth, la.' I really enjoyed this idiosyncratic affectation.
(1) ‘poverty' - born in 1911, my father was just 19 years old when ‘The Great Depression' hit the US economy. The Dust Bowl began shortly after.
(2) Woodward, Oklahoma - the town that I grew up in.
(3) ‘doubled down' - after Dad's business was destroyed completely by the tornado, he doubled his efforts to be successful in Woodward, borrowing heavily from the local banks to do so.
(4) 'across the track' or 'wrong side of the tracks' referred to the part of town where poor people lived, frequently, but not always, meaning 'colored people' well. In some towns no 'colored people' were allowed to live in the more prosperous 'white only' area. Some towns (like Woodward) had no Negros at all. I take that back. One black male did have a job shining shoes in the local 'Baker Hotel' but I think his home was in the country somewhere (He did not live in town) .
(5) 'living too high on the hog' - an idiom referring to people who have to have the most expensive things in life and buy them frequently on credit even though they can't really afford them.
(6) ‘ART' - My mother was a gifted painter and wood carver, but even meals she prepared were done artistically. Art was always spelled with capital letters in her life!
(7) ‘thump on the bean' - to hit the offending child hard on the head with the knuckles of your closed fist.
(8) 'Depression' - Hard times, not mental issues. (Actually works both ways though I guess!) Born the oldest of 3 brothers and one sister, my dad's father worked him hard and used a leather shaving strap to whip his boys when he was upset with them about anything. Grand Dad Johnston made my father seem like Florence Nightingale. I believe that he beat his wife as well (just a guess) .
A very sad story.. beautifully expressed..its time like those and the love from your family that has made you tha person that you today are... a suberb writer... I heard you are a physicist too...: p
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 3:04:10 PM # 1.0.0.1119
doubled down? he was a gambler, or made sandwiches at mcdonalds? just kidding. readers, it is another idiom; look it up and look for something about doubling ones investment, risk, or commitment (something like that i think) . i'm with ya so far, brian, la. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - i'm thinking that the nicest store in town was owned by your dad, but it is not made clear so far as i've read. insides/sides and days/daze................................i do like rhymes so i won't yell at you too much. i usually would not use such 'obvious'? rhymes, if i may call them obvious', but i didn't even notice insides/sides at first. days/daze somehow helps to emphasize the two words and how they are used in the poem. so ok. :) ok, i just quickly scanned the poem to look at the other rhymes. i don't think your rhyme scheme is as intricate as it is in some of your poems. that's ok. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Attended too the poorest school, .....at first i was going to ball you out (not bail you out) ....oops! ....i think it should be bawl you out. yes! i'm glad i caught my own mistake! ! ! ! anyway, la, as i was saying, i was going to bawl you out for misspelling to, as i thought you meant to say went to when you typed Attended too. but now i think you mean(t) that you attended the poorest school 'as well as' lived across the track. so i think you meant Attended also. i'm assuming across the track means here on the other side of the tracks or on the wrong side of the tracks, which to me would imply that you lived in the poor area of your town. poor either financially or socially, which is often the same. - - - - - - - - - - - - - some of your english sounds a little funny to me, a NEW YORKER, but it may sound fine to other Okies/Oklahomans. - - - - - - so far my favorite part is: That was my mother's legacy, And Art the air she breathed, Though slight she strongly stood her ground, Our future she bequeathed........................though i don't quite figure out the reference to Art; i'm glad there was no f in front of it. - - - - - - - - - OK. already there are new winners of my 'favorite lines' contest. : With two desserts at every meal, (And Mom was quite a cook.) But if you didn't clean your plate, From Dad you got a look, The waste of food a mortal sin, A thump upon the ‘bean, ' Made every meal traumatic fare, And tears a daily scene. .....................and it's not just because i like food so much, especially desserts, which i rarely get (or need) . the use of fare here is quite apropos, as is bean (meaning head, but it could be what you were or weren't eating that night) . i'm using the adjective form of apropos which i have perhaps never written before in my lifetime, la. brian brings out the best.....and worst.....in bri. :) - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - you write that Dad seldom raised his head, to show his humility. but i 've started to read about his role as 'punisher' and he doesn't sound humble (show humility) there. sounds like he could have used more humanity, even if he thought he was doing right by you. - - - - - - - - - - you used Depression without explaining what you were referring to. i assume you are referring to the years of economic depression in the united states (1930s; the Depression) before you were born, when 'times were hard for many'. some foreign-born-and-educated and many younger (than you and i) readers may think you are referring to emotional depression. it is difficult to fit so much into a poem (and make it all easily-understandable) with condensation of lines, especially when you are following a rhyme scheme faithfully. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - the last 3 stanzas are very nice for the way they are written and for how revealing they are. KUDOS. i'm sure many PH members would cringe at the thought of writing about their lives so openly, assuming this is not all a pack of lies! ! ! i look forward to reading the next chapters, but if i don't get around to doing it this week, DO remind me! ! thanks for sharing. bri :) [many of my poems show some personal parts of my life, including much to my wife's displeasure, ......if she knew! ]