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Bygone Days

Bygone Days Written: By Tom Wright 4/3/2007 Remember the slogan “Haskell is moving, are you pushing? The railroad depot stands no more In the spot it occupied for so long. Instead in it’s space, a Homeland store, But in my memory it doesn’t belong. Just across the street a Janitorial supply Where once was Conoco’s realm. The change has left me to wonder why But time has not given me the helm. The library stands at Quinn’s used cars Where many a yarn was born. Quaint brick streets before time’s scars And when noise was an occasional horn. On the corner stood a dry goods store Charlie Nesser, the farmer’s friend. Where credit was extended to the poor Now it’s a barbeque and upholstery blend. Haskell’s two theatres have long since parted While druggist’s, Hurt and Walker met their demise. At Haskell’s birth, death’s peal started Each year, time has rendered some surprise. A hand couldn’t count each grocery store Now the total of fingers used is one. The curb rings for horses are no more While two hardware stores went as the sun. The full service stations that did abound Were uprooted by government red tape. Now self serve convenience stores are found Which leaves me with jaw agape. Long gone is Keith’s café and court The Right Way and Busy Bee too. Many have tried this trend to abort But time never deviates as it changes you. T& D and Williams canneries are has-beens Where once spinach thrived is now sod. And have I mentioned the three cotton gins And for cold, Chesbro’s ice plant got the nod. The old Clayton Hotel stands broken down Her tired frame molested by time. From a once proud landmark of our town She has answered death bell’s chime. Stewarts Lumber Yard, also a thing of yore A new Bank rendered it past tense. Haskell Flowers evolved from Papa Tony’s store Which seems to make a lot of sense. International Harvester’s old home looms larger Year’s untouched and of repair in great need. She too awaits a knight on a white charger But rescue is not imminent from time’s ghastly deed. Pete Smith and Mosby’s had auto repair McKean’s and Osborn had blacksmith shops. Where iron and a forge scented the air And farmers made frequent stops. Dr’s Hamm, Kuptka, Steelman finally faded, Now were left without a “Doc”. Our come and go skating rink was jaded. To say were growing is sure a crock. The one constant is the Haskell News, And it has little news to report. Mostly legal notices and editorial views From these, “The News” generates support. Old trains no longer or pass this way As they did years ago in my time. The telephone booth has gone away So has my call that cost just a dime. Haskell’s death knell I do not fear Nor will I be here for the final curtain. For things go on year after year Toward an end, whose arrival is uncertain? Memory’s key often unlocks my minds drawer wherein is contained my good thoughts. Those who didn’t experience the fabulous fifties Missed out on an important time of Haskell’s life. This is not finished, just lost the desire to continue. tom

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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Date: 3/12/2019 9:44:00 PM
In this poem you have described the downfall of so many of our small town world's Tom. I was from a town in the Midwest US of 5000 when I was born. By the time I graduated from High school it had less than 3500 people. I do not think 1200 live there now, and half the homes are for sale. So sad! Memories are great though!
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