“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words but to live by them.”
– John F. Kennedy –
50,000 names (George Jones)
There are teddy bears and high school rings
And old photographs that mamas bring
That daddies with their young boys, playing ball.
There’s combat boots that he used to wear,
When he was sent over there.
There’s 50, 000 names carved in the wall
There’s cigarettes, and theres cans of beer
And notes that say I miss you dear
And children who don’t say anything at all.
There’s purple hearts and packs of gum
Fatherless daughters and fatherless sons
And there’s 50, 000 names carved in the wall
They come from all across this land
In pickup trucks and mini vans
Searching for a boy from long ago
They scan the wall and find his name
The teardrops fall like pouring rain
And silently they leave a gift and go
There’s stars of David and rosary beads
And crucifixion figurines
And flowers of all colors large and small
There’s a Boy Scout badge and a merit pin
Little American flags waving in the wind
And there’s 50, 000 names carved in the wall.
Doris Day died yesterday and that’s why I’m writing this post.
It was long ago, when I was a member of a struggling group of actors who worked all day at the tours at Universal, so we could work all night (for free) performing plays at a little theater on Hollywood Boulevard. Seven nights a week, one block down from the Weird Museum, above a toy store and Fredericks of Hollywood Sexy Lingerie, overlooking the stars of Ann Margret, Gene Barry, and James Cagney, we practiced our craft and shared the Hollywood dream.
