Written for Rees Steam Engine Day at Franklin, Morgan County,
Illinois.
There’s a heap of real enjoyment
In steam engines large and small,
And they get a mighty feeling
When they hear that whistle’s call!
From far and near they come a-flying
Engineers both young and old …
There’s just nothing that can stop ’em
Once that puff of smoke has rolled!
When they open up that throttle,
It is then they start to live,
Each man feels a sense of greatness
When those wheels begin to give.
Then the even, steady throbbing
As the giant engine breathes:
Oh, there ain’t NO way of knowing
All the things that driver sees!
He’s an engineer … for certain …
Each one plays a perfect part,
Every move he makes … an artist
From his very soul and heart!
And his ear is trained to listen ….
Music sounds in every stroke!
You are marked for life, my brother,
Once you’ve ‘tasted’ engine smoke!
Every engine has a language,
And it’s owner knows it best;
He can hear it from a distance ….
Knows its voice from all the rest.
A thoroughbred responds to training,
The engine knows its master’s hand:
Each one wears the self-same title,
‘Best Old Kettle’ in the land!
Oh, they can try your very patience,
From your head down to your heels,
And you offer condemnation
From the smoke-stack to the wheels!
But …. time’s a wondrous healer
When the season comes again ….
Count the engineers …. a-plenty …
Such a throng of eager men!
Once it’s in your blood . . for certain
Greatest thrill you’ve ever found,
You’ll just mark off time a-waiting
‘Till Steam Engine Day comes ’round!
Hazel Wheeler Blauth
June, 1955
