Jimmy Jet

     Alot of you knew my brother Jimmy, his nick name was Jimmy Jet. For those of you that did'nt know him, well I think that you missed out on knowing someone that was and still is a very special human being. He was always full of love for everyone. I have never heard him say one bad thing against any one person. He has been gone for some time now and I miss him so very much. So, I have put some words together about some of the things I remember.

Jimmy Jet 


You were the first of us three boys,
     and the best of the trio.
With the loss of your presence,
     there was much sorry.
A passage through my mind to our youth,
     back to our black footed New Berlin roots.
The old Air Stream Camper that we grew up in down at Grandma and Papa's place,
     us three boys sharing sleeping space.
Three lil'boys running all around the property,
     getting into things we should'nt be.
We use to take baths in a number three wash tub.
     Those simple things you miss when your all grown up.


Pesturing the hunting dogs,
     that were hemed up by driftwood walls.
How about the times Uncle Mark would take us out back,
     just at dusk, throughing potato spuds up at the bats.
You were always first for Aunt Lynn to scrach our backs,
     Dale and me fighting for who would be next.
Uncle Jimmy, Aunt Eileen and the kids, would come visit once a year.
     I can still remember running outside yelling, "Their here Their here".
Aunt Judy would always give us candy,
     she'd say OK now thats it, but we knew she had plenty.
Aunt Barbara's boyfriend would come pick her up,
     and he'd take us for rides in the back of his pickup truck.
 "Hey Baby" Aunt Polly would say,
     it'd make you feel good as you went on your way.
 Uncle Bobby kept an eye on us youngins,
     and laughed like hell at our doings.
Aunt Linda always ready with a hug and a kiss,   
     Yea, there are so many things about being a kid, that I miss.


The smell of Ma cooking on the camper stove,
     Daddy taking us fishing down that old dirt road.
The best day of the week was Sunday,
     the rest of the family would show up to play.
Grandma in the house keeping everybody in line,
     the men and Papa outside having a beer and an occasional sip of shine.


There are so many memories I hold dear,
     so many more that have been forgotten over the years.
And as I travel through this life of mine.
     Its nice to see you when you come to mind.
You take me back to three lil'boys, to Uncle Marks orange tree and eating its fruit.
     Yeah, you take me all the way back to our black footed New Berlin roots.


© 2010 Douglas W. Kellum