In Memorium
Oct. 31st, 2003 11:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
qosIn keeping with the spirit of Samhain, I wanted to remember my Uncle Fred, who passed away this past spring. Fred loved theater and film, and wrote several humorous plays on idealistic themes. My favorite was "The Enchanted Saddle," a story about a magical saddle which helped protect a small western town. The play opens with "The Ballad of the Enchanted Saddle":
In Wishbone Bend some years ago
A heartless villain named Blackjack Joe
O'er ran that peaceful town on the old frontier.
His band of cut-throats robbed and killed
Did anything that Blackjack willed
To help destroy the things that men hold dear.
In Wishbone Bend no man dared stand
'Gainst Blackjack Joe and his murderous band
For fear had numbed the spirit of the old frontier.
Then one day a stranger came
Though no one knew the stranger's name
He stood alone for the things that men hold dear.
His stand became a legend
The legend of the saddle
The strange enchanted saddle of Wishbone Bend.
The stranger called out, "Blackjack Joe"
Said, "One of us has got to go.
There isn't room for us both on the old frontier."
Joe called the stranger in his usual way
With seven cold killers to back his play
It was eight against one for the things that men hold dear.
The stranger faced the gang that day
And when the gunsmoke cleared away
Nine men lay in the dust of the old frontier.
Blackjack Joe and his gang were through
But a bullet had found the stranger too.
He died for the things that men hold dear.
His death inspired the legend
The legend of the saddle
The strange enchanted saddle of Wishbone Bend.
At the end of the play, the cast sings a final chorus:
So now at last we've reached the end
Of the legend that springs from Wishbone Bend
And the saddle that guards that town on the old frontier.
A great reward I will have earned
If just one lesson you have learned:
Always stand up for the things that men hold dear.
Fred was a teacher, a political activist, and an endlessly imaginative and patient uncle. He always stood up for the things that men hold dear. And he is deeply missed.
In Wishbone Bend some years ago
A heartless villain named Blackjack Joe
O'er ran that peaceful town on the old frontier.
His band of cut-throats robbed and killed
Did anything that Blackjack willed
To help destroy the things that men hold dear.
In Wishbone Bend no man dared stand
'Gainst Blackjack Joe and his murderous band
For fear had numbed the spirit of the old frontier.
Then one day a stranger came
Though no one knew the stranger's name
He stood alone for the things that men hold dear.
His stand became a legend
The legend of the saddle
The strange enchanted saddle of Wishbone Bend.
The stranger called out, "Blackjack Joe"
Said, "One of us has got to go.
There isn't room for us both on the old frontier."
Joe called the stranger in his usual way
With seven cold killers to back his play
It was eight against one for the things that men hold dear.
The stranger faced the gang that day
And when the gunsmoke cleared away
Nine men lay in the dust of the old frontier.
Blackjack Joe and his gang were through
But a bullet had found the stranger too.
He died for the things that men hold dear.
His death inspired the legend
The legend of the saddle
The strange enchanted saddle of Wishbone Bend.
At the end of the play, the cast sings a final chorus:
So now at last we've reached the end
Of the legend that springs from Wishbone Bend
And the saddle that guards that town on the old frontier.
A great reward I will have earned
If just one lesson you have learned:
Always stand up for the things that men hold dear.
Fred was a teacher, a political activist, and an endlessly imaginative and patient uncle. He always stood up for the things that men hold dear. And he is deeply missed.
