My father, who had previously been a civil engineer, died in the great influenza epidemic of 1918.
quote by James Rainwater
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Dad died during the flu epidemic in 1918 when I was 4 years old. He left a lot of classical recordings behind that I began listening to at an early age, so he must have been a music lover.
quote by Tom Glazer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I would say the most help I got was from my dad. My dad is a civil engineer in Switzerland; he's 90 years old now, so he's no longer active as a civil engineer, but still a very active person.
quote by Claude Nicollier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father Boy
Oh Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You didn’t see the signs
You didn’t hear a thing did you
Oh Father Boy, my dear
You didn’t see, you didn’t look, you didn’t listen either
You didn’t try to understand
You didn’t take the time
You weren’t a Father, Father Boy, you weren’t a Father, Father.
Oh Father Boy, Father Boy
When a Father has a Boy
To be a Father, Father see
You have to see the Boy
The Boy inside the Father
And the Father in the Boy
But Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You just didn’t pay attention
For a Boy to be a Father, Father
He cannot be a Father Boy.
(Previously published in Megaera, #4, Fall 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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A Ballad Of The Town Water
It is the Police Commissioners,
All on a winter's day;
And they to prove the town water
Have set themselves away.
They went to the north, they went to the south,
And into the west went they,
Till they found a civil, civil engineer,
And unto him did say:
'Now tell to us, thou civil engineer,
If this be fit to drink.'
And they showed him a cup of the town water,
Which was as black as ink.
He took three sips of the town water,
And black in the face was he;
And they turned them back and fled away,
Amazed that this should be.
And he has written a broad letter
And sealed it with a ring,
And the letter saith that the town water
Is not a goodly thing.
And they have met, and the Bailies all,
And eke the Councillors,
And they have ta'en the broad letter
And read it within the doors.
And there has fallen a great quarrel,
And a striving within the doors,
And quarrelsome words have the Bailies said,
And eke the Councillors.
And one saith, 'We will have other water,'
And another saith, 'But nay;'
And none may tell what the end shall be,
Alack and well-a-day!
I love the inoffensive frog,
'A little child, a limber elf,'
With health and spirits all agog,
He does the long jump in a bog
Or teaches men to swim and dive.
If he should be cut up alive,
Should I not be cut up myself?
So I intend to be straightway
An Anti-Vivisectionist;
I'll read Miss Cobbe five hours a day
And watch the little frogs at play,
With no desire to see their hearts
At work, or other inward parts,
If other inward parts exist.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Max Rosenthau
Father Cleary sat at table with Max many a day
But I don't think he rated a bounteous gift when Max came to visit
Both were guests in the great house acrosss the street of youth
Father for years and Max for yearly one week stints.
The last time Max came was when his wife died
A man so profoundly broken
Even a fourteen year old could start to understand
That the desperation of his giref was the force that drove Max to Mass
Where Father from his view could not give communion to a Jew
And snapped the neck of something deep within me
That despite Father's great friendship
Never came back though I never said a word to Father Cleary.
poem by Bill Grace
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In the last 17 years of his working life, my father was finally rewarded with having landed a great job as first, a maintenance engineer, and then a senior locksmith with the Federal Reserve Bank of New York.
quote by Tony Visconti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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37
There has been a rash of infections
from tattoo needles:
Did you hear? people are afraid.
If true, it will be the first time
an epidemic cured an epidemic.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Today, there is a drug and alcohol abuse epidemic in this country. And no one is safe from it-not you, not me and certainly not our children, because this epidemic has their names written on it.
quote by Nancy Davis Reagan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dark Victory 11/11/18
The Bells ring out great Peals of joy.
The war is won, Great Albion.
It merely cost a million dead,
a generation lost and done.
To you, fate tendered victory sweet,
to the Germans, a bitter peace.
There, fatherless boys, abed, asleep,
plot revenge for their deceased.
In the Wilfred Owen house;
no alloyed joy to meld with sorrow:
That day they learned their son had died
They'll dress the house in Black tomorrow.
His mother knew before word came,
she had a sense her son was gone.
That he'd be among the last to fall
for the glory of Great Albion
He fought almost unto the end,
dying in the war's last week.
When Mortal flesh and bullets meet
Poets are silenced when machine guns speak..
There is a pathos in his fate,
dying in the last week of war
Like the man who sailed the Ocean deep,
only to drown in sight of shore.
The poet Wilfred Owen, died in an attack on a German Machine gun nest on 11/04/1918, one week before the Germans sued for peace. His parents received word that their only son had died just as the Church bells were rung to celebrate the Armistice. Albion is a archaic name for Great Britain
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Influenza is a serious disease. Kids die of influenza, both in Japan and the United States, and if you give a drug to people who are at risk of dying, there will be people who die who got the drug,... There is no signal the drug is doing it as opposed to the disease.
quote by Robert Nelson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Easier to Digest
Civil unrest
Civil war
Civil chaos
Or...
My personal favorite,
Civil disobedience!
Which of these has more flavor...
And yet caffeine free?
More taste,
And yet less filling?
'I vote we go with civil unrest!
It's easier to digest...
And maintains that robust appeal.'
Now we are getting somewhere!
And you George...
What would you like?
~Just pass me the vodka!
No rocks! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In 1918, when I was 6 or 7 years old, radio was just coming into use in the Great War.
quote by Chuck Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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History Lessons
Notoriously, history books are warm
and bland.
This one is smaller, neatly compacting
years into large print pages.
Somehow, the near coverless book
reappeared from the long, dim
Nun's library, dug up, specifically for
a reprisal of the 1918 Influenza Revisited.
It was a custom to pass out last editions.
A clear out of the aging history Teacher's
Library section.
An acknowledgement of the past
pressed onto a pupil for a masked honor.
Smells of old lockers, chesty
coughs, and fatigue. So many class
smiles and collective ease.
The book holds the marks of many
boys' notes, hen-pecked bits of scratch paper.
History written within history.
poem by Mary Anderson
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Zuton Fever
You know I get a funny feeling
Like an epidemic running through my head
Know I've got that feeling that's the best
Got the Zuton Fever in my head
And when it's running through my bones
You know I feel just like I'm ten years old
Know looking young and good again
Got the Zuton Fever in my head
It starts to make its way upstairs
It's like a ... in my veins and in my hair
You know where it comes from I don't care
Let me know if get some, I'll be there
Oh father, father I have sinned
I've let myself down time and time again
Know the Zuton Fever's made me thin
Now I've got to clean my flaky skin
Oh doctor, doctor help and let
Me know if you can find a cure or antidote
You know I've always been true to you my friend
Hope that you can help me out again
You know I get a funny feeling
Like an epidemic running through my head
Know I got the feelin that's the best
Got the Zuton Fever in my head
I've got the Zuton Fever in my head
I've got the Zuton Fever in my head
song performed by by Zutons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Tribute To My Revered Father
My Father was a great teacher,
Good husband to my good Mother;
He taught his pupils very well;
In an old house, did he dwell.
Well he reared his children seven!
Lived for up to eight times ten;
His forehead sweat fell on the soil;
My Father so well, did he toil.
A man who possessed great talents;
And honesty par excellence;
Cheap Politics did he eschew;
This world hath seen but very few.
He lived in humble conditions;
A law-abiding citizen;
He gave us good education;
And raised us well in religion.
He’as born and bred in piety;
And rose in popularity;
A logic-man, Philosopher;
None could him well decipher.
A versatile man, Orator;
He tried to make a new order;
Oppressed, he died with plenty peace;
Yet in god, he lived in ease.
His learning to him was his wealth!
Together with his body’s health;
And she was great too, my Mother;
Who well-supported my Father.
A human ‘immortal’-being!
With yeoman-service worth seeing;
He loved the poor and downtrodden;
That fetched him place sure in Heaven.
But one day when he died, I cried!
By Heaven’s words, he did abide;
God-fearing, undaunted, he left;
For his great soul, a lot I wept.
I see him as a bright new Star!
In the night-Sky clearly, afar;
Oh what a great man Father was!
Truthfulness was his greatest cause.
Fondly dedicated in loving memory of my beloved father
Shri. A.T.Antoniswami M.A., L.T., Coimbatore
poem by John Celes
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I'll Be Home, Mother
“Mother, mother,
Mother”, I cried
There was no answer
My mother had died
Then “Father, father,
where are you? ”
Again no answer,
For he died too,
Great Reaper, Great Reaper,
When will you come?
There is no answer.
When there is
I’ll be home
poem by Fred Babbin
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Influenza
I can feel, I can tell
I can feel, I can tell, I can see
Something is changing
To me change is no stranger
I dont run, I dont hide
I dont run, I dont hide, I dont fight
What fate arranges
I dont think about danger
If it was meant for me
Id know just where to go
But if I can take it slow
Then I might be in control
In the back of my head
In the back of my head there is doubt
There is suspicion
With my new fascination
I dont know what it is
I dont know what it is, you might say
Its intuition
Its a true indication
I should trust myself
I should beware of this
But its like a strangers kiss
And somehow I cant resist
I can feel my will slip away
From a strange influenza
I can feel my mind slip away
Under your influenza
I can feel my heart slip away
Under your influenza
Theres a part of my heart
Theres a part of my heart that cries out
Please go no further
I just cant take the pressure
So I try to resist
So I try to resist and my heart
Tells me dont bother
That this pain is a pleasure
If I were someone else
I wouldnt disagree
But its always hard to see
When somethings controlling me
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's striking that Native Americans evolved no devastating epidemic diseases to give to Europeans, in return for the many devastating epidemic diseases that Indians received from the Old World.
quote by Jared Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Father Died
In the middle of the summer,
when I was twenty-two
and wore sneakers with no socks
and was growing my first beard,
my father died.
In the middle of the summer,
when my son was one years old
and lay in his playpen
in the hardscrabble grass of the backyard,
making living sounds
and grabbing for fistfuls of air,
my father died.
In the middle of the summer,
days before somebody walked on the moon,
days after the bright-colored beginnings
of my daughter's life,
my father died.
In the middle of the summer,
when, as a father,
I first sat out on the porch past midnight
listening to the haunting, faraway comfort
of late-night, west coast ball games,
and the tender wisps of breathing of my own two babes,
in the middle of the summer
when I first had trouble sleeping,
and before we had the luxury to know
each others' hurts and hollows,
hopes and heartaches,
in the summer of 1969
(several sad and sorry seasons
beyond the end of his living) ,
my father died.
As did,
as did a part of his boy.
poem by Will Thomas
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Monkey And The Engineer
Once upon a time there was an engineer.
Drove a locomotive both far and near.
Accompanied by a monkey that would sit on a stool
Watching everything the engineer would do
One day the engineer wanted a bite to eat,
He left the monkey sitting on the driver's seat,
The monkey pulled the throttle, the locomotive jumped the gun
And did 80 miles an hour down the mainline run.
Big locomotive right on time, big locomotive coming down the line.
Big locomotive No. 99, left the engineer with a worried mind.
The engineer called up the dispatcher on the phone,
To tell him all about his locomotive was gone.
Dispatcher got on the wire, switch operator to the right,
Cause the monkey's got the main line sewed up tight.
The switch operator got the message on time,
Said there's a Northbound livin' on the same main line,
Open up the switch I'm gonna let him through the hole,
Cause the monkey's got the locomotive under control.
Big locomotive right on time, big locomotive coming down the line.
Big locomotive No. 99, left the engineer with a worried mind
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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