[Shotimes] (OT) Poem .... One Cold Christmas Eve Night

[George Fourchy]

Saw this poem at work today...it's cool.  And it's long, but it's ME, after all.....

"One cold Christmas Eve night, I was called for a flight.
I was the only one sober to go.
The dispatcher said all were drunk or claimed dead,
And the freight was a real special load.

The co-pilot was dragged from a party of stags.
The door prize he'd won hadn't shown.
He cursed and he cried, he fought and he lied,
Til ole' Shawnasy laid 'im out cold.

Then they all took a vote and 'sober' they wrote,
And sober means you have to go.
The checklist was read, the power was fed,
And down the old runway we go.

The big engines toil, 'til wheels leave the soil,
Into wet heavy clouds full of snow.
We fly through the slop 'til we break out on top
And oh, what a beautiful show:

Moon and stars swing and sway
And light up our way as they twinkle and dance through the night.
We sail with grace through the portals of space,
O'er an ocean of billowing gray.

Chasing moon-shadows up canyons of white,
Through star-dusted snowflakes at play.
Clouds pillow the light of a world locked up tight
In winter's soft blanket of whey.

Engines are humming; propellers are strumming
A song that says everything's right.
The co-pilot's thunder has now turned to slumber;
The cockpit's now reasonably quiet.

I'm pleased and alone high up on my throne
On this peaceful, cold Christmas Eve night.
In all kinds of weather, we've grown old together,
This old hunk of iron and me.

We're birds of a feather...to fly her I'd rather. 
She suits me to a tee.
She's built like a tank; she's slow, cold and dank;
She's the lovable old DC-3.

Christmas bells ring, I can't believe what I hear,
And look over my shoulder to see.....
There, a man in a sleigh with a bunch of reindeer
Cracks his whip, yelling "Hey, wait for me!"

I bring back the throttles to almost a glide,
And slide open the window as he comes alongside.
Ole Santa's not happy...things haven't gone well.
Above the harsh engines I hear him yell:

"I'm sure glad to see ya...it's been a bad flight
Perhaps you can help me out of my plight.
Please help save the kids' Christmas
this cold Christmas Eve night.

"Satan's played weatherman and led me astray,
Fighting snows and big blows along the whole way.
If I don't get down soon, there will be hell to pay,
'Cause these poor old reindeer are near out of hay.

This doggone sleigh is way over gross,
My old ADF just gave up the ghost,
And to top it all off, my altimeter's broke.

These clouds that we're over are thicker than silt,
Like letting down through well-churned buttermilk.
When I was younger, I might have punched down, but
What would happen tomorrow if I weren't around?

If you'll just kind of guide me til a town comes in sight,
You'll make all the kids happy this cold Christmas Eve Night."
I felt sort of kindred to this wizened old pro.  
He'd got caught up on to, with no place to go.

And it had to embarrass him clean down to his soul..
This kind of travel can sure take its toll.
It's happened to all of us, and you know he did right,
Asking for help this cold Christmas Eve night.

I yell "You betcha, Santa! Just tuck it in close.
Let's take it on down, here comes the glide slope.
Clouds swirl around as we drop through the soup
And ice starts to build on the air intake scoops.

Ole Santa is frowning, but there's nary a gripe.
Through the wet pelting snow he keeps us in sight.
We let down through the muck, se some lights on the ground,
and that huge trademark grin replaces the frown.

With a big hearty laugh, he takes it on down,
peels off to the left, and heads for the town.
I hear him say as he speeds out of sight,
"You saved the kids' Christmas, not to mention my pride!

I thank you so much for being my guide.
This won't happen again....I'll check everything right.
Merry Christmas to you, and have a good flight!"

I just giggled and squirmed in this old worn-out seat,
looked at my co-pilot, still fast asleep.
I felt kind of proud for what I had done.
It had been a long time since I'd had this much fun.

No one will believe me, but that's all right.
I thanked the good Lord for guiding this flight,
And keeping me sober
This Cold Christmas Eve Night.


E. Richard Zerbe     Printed in the 12/22 issue of Aviation Week and Space
Technology....

George