O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done; The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring: But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills; For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding; For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head; It is some dream that on the deck, You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done; From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells! But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
Poem by Walt Whitman...
Jerry Berry has left us feeling a great loss. Those of us that knew him as a friend, as an employer and as a guest. His greatest legacy was that we heard repeatedly, "he made us feel welcome, whenever we came in." No Innkeeper could ask for a better epitaph.
There will be a celebration of his life, and his deeds at the Captain's Wheel, Sunday, November 12, at 2:00 PM. This will consist of a potluck dinner, and what we assume will be a rambunctious jam session consisting of the music and musicians he loved so much...
Photo by Taryn Hecker Thonpson.
"I'm just a humble Muckraker who formerly wrote a neighborhood column for the Spokesman-Review, and now just this blog. write All rights reserved. No reproduction or use of this material without written consent is permitted by copyright laws. Contact me at: firstname.lastname@example.org