Freedom of God, Freedom of Whiskey

 

Freedom of God, Freedom of Whiskey

The king of France
was a fancy-pants.
“Join the church I desire
or I’ll set you on fire”
was the king’s decree,
so Bartholomew, Huguenot, ancestor of me,
for freedom of God chose to flee
by sailing ship across the sea.

Bartholomew had a grandson named Peter.
With disdain of all that’s pompous,
with adze, froe, and cooper’s compass,
Peter built barrels in Maryland.
Barrels for gunpowder, barrels for tea,
barrels to blow the British into the sea.
Peter fought for George Washington,
then took his family
single file on horses through wilderness
to set up a cooperage
in the land of Kentucky
building barrels for corn, barrels for whiskey,
barrels for the sober and barrels for the frisky
with adze, froe, and cooper’s compass
and with disdain for all that’s pompous.

Peter had a grandson, John T
who moved west of the Mississippi.
John T cut trees and slid them downhill
to the river where he built a mill
making railroad ties to meet the demand
for tracks to stitch this unsettled land
from California to the Atlantic sands.
John T with a gift for oration
preached against slavery, the abomination.
In anger, for opening his mouth
a lynch mob came from the South.
They kidnapped John T
to hang him from a tree
near Canaan, Missouri.

The great-great grandson of John T
is me.
With tool belt, hammer, and drill
my heritage is the skill
to build what people need,
to speak with moral compass
with disdain for all that’s pompous.
We built whiskey barrels. We cut railroad ties.
Now I build houses and tell you no lies.

…..

Photo by amyvand