The taste of Whisky still lingers in memories that I cherish

As I remember sitting at your table with Nancy and a group of friends

Playing cards, no money

Exchanged, the bet, a story from my travels

Round a country that you had been proud to serve and call home.

You smiled in amusement at my capacity to tell a story

And to drink and drink and drink.

We had met the once

In a bar

In a small Wiltshire City where the Greyfisher reigned

As you and your sons had sat down on the upholstered seats

Around another, smaller, pint glass filled table,

The talk of Judge LaBrum was enthralling

And I kept that memory in me until I met you all once more.

To the memory of America, the city in the fall

After a new President was sworn in and you took me into your home.

We sat watching your Football and my love of the

Steelers was enhanced by all the conversation swimming around me,

We talked for many a night before it was time to move on to Philadelphia

And retell your stories to those I met upon the way,

Of days in which I looked upon you and your family

as my family.

Now like the passing of Judge LaBrum, a piece of news

From a cold, desolate, meaningless Atlantic, floors me…

It kicks me in the teeth as I think of you sir, your brilliant and caring wife,

Sons that I met and embraced like brothers and who are so very cool.

Thank you for your time, it was a great gift, thank you for you,

For showing me your American way, I salute your memory,

Not with a Whisky but with fondness to a great man.

 

Ian D. Hall