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Monday, Feb. 27, 2017

Three to Seven to a Tee

Posted Tuesday, June 14, 2011, at 5:32 PM

I just realized, I think I'm older than this aircraft. OY!!
Three to Seven to a Tee

By Arley Steinhour 061411

Seven is a number for this life of mine

It seems to pop up seven almost every time

Three years old, plus days forty-nine

Pearl Harbor day, Japan put it on the line.

Day one was spent in Shock and Awe

With tears and anger close behind

Kids like me, too young to know all

Scattered to where no one could find.

All I knew that fate filled day

Was war was on, where people died

Tears, and anger, what could I say

Like finding out mom and dad had lied.

Life gained a new prospective

Even I could know that much

Peace and harmony much defective

Belts tightened quite a bunch.

The next four years my age did double

When it ended I'd learned a lot

Four years of a world in trouble

From a Hitler and Tow Joe plot.

The Army had a new Air Force

But not too many a fighting plane

What we had would stay the course

Until production made them like rain.

North of town they built a base

To teach the men to fly

Young men all over the place

Came to learn, and die.

Some officers had wife and family

And had not a home for wife

Grandpa started building lively

Cabins in back for a cozy life.

A Railroad man working Twelve/Seven

Then six hours building cabins ugly

August 1942, five shiny bits of cabin-heaven

Counting us, eleven families fitted snuggly.

There were no rental laws to stop us

Or Grandma would have been in jail

Doubled up or more, without a fuss

Harmony presided, humor didn't fail.

Saturdays were party time

Grandma played accordion and sang

BBQ or Hobo Stew suited all just fine

All dancing, some singing, with a twang.

No one mentioned war up in the sky

That seldom ever entered conversation

Only Love, and words were allowed to fly

We all knew we loved our nation.

Four years flew by, for a kid like me

I'd lived over half my life in war

And when it ended, no flyers to see

Base closed, because war had gone too far.

McCook was like a ghost town

Half the population gone away

No one seemed to show a frown

As the troops came home to stay.

All was done, we'd won both wars

VE and VJ both finally came to be

The weapon used, closed war's doors

No more, the world was now free.

I won't address what happened

With the years that followed that

World wars never more to be my friend

Just people killing battles called a cold war spat.

Today the consummation has us all in trouble

As the world makes Tribulation history

Unless God burns things up like stubble

Where only His, can then live free.


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