Written: By Tom Wright
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.
Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2019