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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The oldest man I’ve ever known was Harvey Lee Kaneeble. And at the age of one-o-six…(in nineteen forty-five)… Some of those who really got around had speculated - Harvey might have actually been the oldest man alive! Every single inch of him was wrinkled, thin, and frail. His hair was sort of silver-blue…his eyes were tired and dim. And I had often wondered why - with every benediction - our preacher always said a little prayer for - only him! I was nearly seven when I finally asked my father, “Why do you suppose the reverend says that extra prayer? He don’t ever say no special prayer for no one else.” Dad just smiled, then picked me up an’ sat me on a chair. “That’s a real good question, son.” my father started in. “The preacher wants the Lord to keep an eye on that old man. Harvey’s touched the lives of almost every one in town. There can’t be many folks around today that aren’t a fan. “Son, do you remember…just a couple years ago…when poor old Mrs. Baxter took a fall an’ broke her arm? Her husband, Roy, was dead, and all her kids had moved away, so she was left alone to run their godforsaken farm. “Every time they’d planted…somethin’ awful’d come along. Twisters got ‘em twice…an’ then the locusts…then the drought. But tough ol’ Roy kept farmin’ - ‘til his cancer wouldn’t let him. Well…Harvey run out almost every day to help them out. “Roy held on for seven months, then passed away that April. He’d begged his wife to do her very best to never sell. Harvey helped her work the place…but never took a dime…and actually worked it on his own that summer that she fell! “And here’s another factual story, son: Old Harvey found a calf strugglin’ in the quicksand - by the river near his ranch - An’ just before the calf went under, Harvey tied a rope around his chest then looped it ‘round a strong, low-hangin’ branch, “Waded out and grabbed that little orphan by the neck, then brought it home and raised her like a pampered little kid. And when he’d got ‘er lookin’ like a fine blue-ribbon queen…none of us who knew him were surprised by what he did. “Julio Rodriguez had a dozen little children! I don’t believe the oldest one was more than eight years old! Three of them were triplets…another two were twins…and none had been adopted, so… the way the story’s told… “Harvey told Rodriguez that the cow was gettin’ mean! Claimed she’d kicked him several times, and whipped him with her tail! And after all he’d done for her, such conduct wouldn’t do…so it was time to put that ornery bovine up for sale. “Harvey knew that Julio had a lot of mouths to feed. He also knew their family was a poor one…that was clear. So when the price he wanted for the cow come into play, Julio says that Harvey said, ‘Now, Julio…lookie here… ‘That fat ungrateful heifer has been kicking me for months, but, up ‘til now, I s’pose…with all her milk…she’s paid her way. But I don’t like her attitude…and I’ll take twenty bucks just to watch that old cantankerous female walk away!’ “Well…everybody knew that cow was worth a whole lot more, but clans as big as Julio’s bunch were tough to keep well fed. But, son…now that all those kids are grown - the first of every month - one o’ them twelve ‘ll have him in for dinner! Like I said… “Folks fer miles around are pretty proud o’ that old man. You’d have to be a fool to run him down around these parts. An’ those are just a couple reasons Preacher says that prayer. Ol’ Harvey’s in a lot o’ prayers…and in a lot o’ hearts! “They say that, many years ago…I think in ‘85… a fire broke out and burned some family’s farmhouse to the ground. Harvey opened up his home and took that family in. He housed them…and he fed them…‘til a new place could be found. “He didn’t even know them. He just knew they needed help. Again…he never took a dime…he did it all for free! Those people had a son that year, and everyone knows why they proudly named their little newborn baby…‘Harvey Lee.’ “And how about the time we saw him walking ‘round the graveyard…searching through the headstones as he scattered tiny flags. His uniform was tattered…from the Civil War I s’pect. It fit him fairly well, but would have almost passed for rags. “‘Why,’ you asked… ‘is Harvey putting flags on all those graves…then standing at attention - and saluting when he’s done?’ I picked you up an’ used your sleeve to wipe away my tears…then told you…‘It’s Memorial Day…those were his comrades, son. ‘Men he went to war with…as a boy of seventeen. He puts those flags out every year. It’s no surprise he does. I’ve also heard he saved a lot of lives, and was hero…an’ seein’ that bunch o’ medals on his chest…I’d say he was.’ “Well…that should give you some idea of why the whole town loves him. Why we all look up to him…and why so many care. And that should help you understand why…every Sunday mornin’…the reverend ends the service with - that special little prayer.” PS: I've now got 4 new Audio-CDs - @ 4 1/2 hours each = (62 diversely varied pieces). They’re listed on EBAY - under - “Mark Stellinga Poetry” - or available by simply contacting me at -- mark@writerofbooks.com -- should those of you who enjoy listening to poems as well as reading them - and particularly those of you that travel - care to be so entertained. (We use safe and simple - PayPal) Cheers, Mark
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