John Bleimaier
04-26-2010, 02:38 PM
L.C. Smith & Parker Brothers, Forever!
By John Kuhn Bleimaier
The northern mills are silent now, the gears and belts gone slack
At Fulton in old New York and in Meridan on the banks of the Quinnipiac.
Overgrown and cold the forges, idle the ingenious Yankee tooling
That once built the double guns that had the whole world a drooling.
Eternally at peace the men whose muscle and whose brain
Conjoined to craft the finest works of art gunsmiths can e’r attain.
Burnished Damascus steel and well cured walnut burl if I have my druthers
The foremost were made by L.C. Smith and also Parker Brothers.
Those legendary rivals have long been laid to rest,
Side by side in the history books among America’s best.
But down in Old Catawba, south o’ the Dixon line
You’ll hear a very special sound, a music oh so fine.
The ghosts they do come out to play in April every year
Spirits of sport and comradeship not ones you need to fear.
That rivalry of L.C. Smith and Parker from bygone days
It plays out now in the cool pine woods in a round of sporting clays.
A gallant band of siblings, aficionados of the fleet smoothbore
Gather for good fellowship, to break targets and keep score.
And to maintain the memory of the greatness of our workers and of our nation
From the fine old glory days before financiers, finaglers and globalization.
April 25, 2010
By John Kuhn Bleimaier
The northern mills are silent now, the gears and belts gone slack
At Fulton in old New York and in Meridan on the banks of the Quinnipiac.
Overgrown and cold the forges, idle the ingenious Yankee tooling
That once built the double guns that had the whole world a drooling.
Eternally at peace the men whose muscle and whose brain
Conjoined to craft the finest works of art gunsmiths can e’r attain.
Burnished Damascus steel and well cured walnut burl if I have my druthers
The foremost were made by L.C. Smith and also Parker Brothers.
Those legendary rivals have long been laid to rest,
Side by side in the history books among America’s best.
But down in Old Catawba, south o’ the Dixon line
You’ll hear a very special sound, a music oh so fine.
The ghosts they do come out to play in April every year
Spirits of sport and comradeship not ones you need to fear.
That rivalry of L.C. Smith and Parker from bygone days
It plays out now in the cool pine woods in a round of sporting clays.
A gallant band of siblings, aficionados of the fleet smoothbore
Gather for good fellowship, to break targets and keep score.
And to maintain the memory of the greatness of our workers and of our nation
From the fine old glory days before financiers, finaglers and globalization.
April 25, 2010