This is another in the series of poems I wrote for our granddaughters. This poem is about my grandfather, Sam Pretty, his brother Fred and their younger brother, Cyril or Tot, as they called him. The three brothers were born in Dildo, Newfoundland and lived across the bay in Old Shop as well.
Dildo, Newfoundland
Old Shop, Newfoundland
These three worked on the railway but they were not the first from the family to do so. The oldest two brothers, Albert and Harry worked there as well but died of tuberculosis at an early age. The youngest child, Robert, also died of TB, at the age of seventeen.
In my husband's family, his great grandfather, Joe Lawrence, was a conductor on the railway out of Port aux Basques, like Cyril Pretty. Jim Lawrence, Joe's son, was a brakeman. The Lawrences and the Prettys knew each other long before Rick and I ever met.
This poem is to honor all the men who worked on the railway in Newfoundland. They worked hard and had a steady income during the worst times in the country's history.
Well done.
Railway Boys
Sam really loved the trains,
He heard them every day.
He had a dream to work on them
Helping people on their way.
Sam had a brother Fred
Who worked upon the train.
He watched for Fred and waved to him
Even in the rain.
When Sam was finally old enough
He got a job like Fred.
They worked together every day
On the rail line, so it's said.
But that's not all the story
'Cause there was a younger brother.
His older brothers called him Tot,
He was smaller, like their mother.
So the Pretty boys worked on the trains
Engineers - the older two.
Tot was a conductor
While his brothers led the crew.
For many years they worked the rails
They loved their work 'tis true.
So, like the Pretty brothers did
Find what you love to do.
Marie Pretty Smith
2 comments:
Well said Marie!
Thanks
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