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Rated: E · Poetry · Action/Adventure · #1489336
Memory of a favorite family friend.
'Pepe' means 'grandpa' where I come from.
Even though his name was Gerard,
'Pepe' was what they called him.
Everyone knew him as a kind old man.

Could be I revered him for his stories and wisdom.
One thing he always talked about was river driving.
Unknown to me at the time,
Lumber came out of northern Maine,
On down to the mills in the water,
Many places trees were cut were
Best reached by the Androscoggin River, not by land.

"Right there in the end, towards thirty-six or so
I tied onto an outfit out of Bangor,
Victor was the straw boss I remember,
Edward, my brother, drown on that last drive.
River was tough on us Frenchies."

Pepe told tales of log jams and tree falls,
Ice flows breaking lose and sweeping men away.
Gerard, I am more the man for knowing you when I was a boy.
© Copyright 2008 Lou-Here By His Grace (tattsnteeth2 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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