From Humble Beginnings

Musings from Normandy

2008-12-27T15:50:00.003-06:00

Good day in France today! Skies are blue and weather is cold. A good day
for remembrance --

THE SOLDIER

I was sitting in the twilight;
At the dawn on Norman shore.
When a soldier sat beside me
I could tell his heart was sore.

I was here that dreadful morning
Sixth of June in 'forty-four.
'Took a bullet -- didn't make it;
And I died here on this shore.

Now I come back every morning
To relive that awful hell;
To give honor to my comrades;
And to bless the place they fell.

I have seen the hurt of battle;
I have watched my brothers die.
And to those who give no honor
I say let those bastards die.

All around me things are different.
I can see the changing tide.
I trust the past is not repeated
And another million die.

- Frank Andrews 12-27-08

THE WALK

It was early in the morning
And there was no sun to shine.
I took a walk on Normandy beach
For some sobering thoughts to find.

In memory I could hear the sounding
Of the awful battle blast.
I walked today along the shore
Where the soldiers brave were cast.

Into the mouth of hell that day
Brave soldiers marched in fear.
And though death was all around them;
Only God above could hear.

The sound of battle now is dim;
Now the tide has washed away;
But the blood that stained the beaches;
It will live another day.

MAY GOD IN HIS INFINITE WISDOM DELIVER US FROM WAR.

- Frank Andrews 12-27-08

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Recent Poems by William Franklin Andrews

2006-07-03T15:06:00.000-05:00

BLUE HIGHWAYS

I wanna go back to the blue highways
Away from these crazy four-lanes;
Back to the yesterday world of the car
Where Burma Shave tickled my brain.

Burma Shave and Rock City signs
All scattered throughout the land
And hitching a ride from coast to coast
Was as easy as raising your hand.

These interstate highways are going nowhere
We are only spinning our wheels;
Crashing and banging a two-hour commute
To a job that is not a big deal.

So give me a space in the slow lane of life
Where troubles are always behind;
The four lanes of life are driving me mad
And these highways are breaking my mind!

- July 3, 2006

##

HERE'S TO YOU WILLIAM BURR

You must have been a sturdy old man
William Burr Stinson 'cause you;
Had three wives and fifteen children
You sleep now between the first two.

Your grave is there by the side of the road -
It sure is a peaceful place;
Alive with fresh flowers the small cemetery
I noticed you saved me a space.

Grandmother told many stories
She tried to remember you well;
Although after your passing
She lived through many a hell.

They tell me you fought for the Rebels gray
Then fought for the Yankees blue;
That sure would make a great story.
I could tell it if it really were true.

You've been sleeping now a hundred years
You died long before I was born;
Age is now creeping up on me
And I'll join you some fair summer morn'.

- July 3, 2006. Frank Andrews, great-grandson of William Burr Stinson. The Rebels and Yankees are united again.

##

Read Frank's short story "Snowball the Orphan Lamb" in the July/August 2006 edition of Muscadine Lines: A Southern Journal here. (Link to the Muscadine Lines homepage here.) Read "A Shirt Named Eugene" here.

Prologue: Mule Barn Blues

2006-03-09T10:16:00.000-06:00

Out in the country just ten miles from town;
A part of Ft. Carson is tumbling down.
Built back in ‘forty for mules not for men;
The ‘RED DEVILS’ moved out and the Medics moved in.
Someone please thank those wonderful souls
For being so generous to give us this HOLE.
For so many things they left without charge
The mud in the barracks; the sludge in the yard,
The rocks in the path, the sludge in the street,
KP with ‘ole Barta just three times a week.
Now I’m not complaining so don’t take me wrong
I’ve got CHANCE and not CHOICE so no matter how long:
If these MULE BARNS need cleaning I’ll stick to my song;
What’s this stuff I’m sweeping; is it ding, dung or dong?
The duty’s not bad if you like to cut weeds,
Sweep out the barns or be OJT’ed.
It’s just three miles from the main PX.
But they bought me some shoes “So well what the heck.”
I just can’t get over those infantry boys,
Moving and leaving these wonderful joys.
Perhaps it will all come clear someday –
In the meantime I’ll just forget I’m RA.
These MULE BARN BLUES have gotten me down,
Only ten miles from the nearest town;
Cracks in the windows; bugs in the walls
I can’t figure why I ENLISTED at ALL.
Just nine hundred days and it’ll all be over
I’ll be a wreck, a BUM, and a ROVER;
I’m sure it’s quite obvious; I think you can see –
These MULE BARN BLUES are killing me.

Signed “THE PHANTOM,” 1961, Ft. Carson, CO

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Foreword by Mary Trim Anderson

2006-03-09T10:08:00.000-06:00

In all my years of teaching and throughout the years of my retirement, my life has been blessed with the continued friendships with former students and by their kind remarks that I had a positive influence in their lives. It has always been a special pleasure for me to see the written work of one of these past students in print, whether it be verse, fiction or reflection of days gone by.

Such is the case with Frank Andrews.

One can see at a glance the maturing of boy to man. One reads of life experiences – his, or others’ – issues of morality, sage advice, and especially of his observation of and appreciation for the beauty of the world around us.

Frank has succeeded in a number of life’s roles – son, husband, father, businessman. Yet, his poetic nature always seemed to find expression. His request that I write the foreword for this publication I deem a compliment; it is my pleasure to have a small part in his latest achievement. To quote the author,

“Using all the cards you’re given
Is how success in life is made.”

Mary Trim Anderson
Franklin, Tennessee
June 2005

6/26/2006 UPDATE - R.I.P. Mary Trim Anderson, 1910-2006. Read the letter "Mary Trim Anderson's death marks end of an era" in the Williamson Herald here.

Speaking Engagements

2006-03-08T21:12:00.009-06:00

Frank Andrews loves sharing his poetry and stories with audiences. The author of From Humble Beginnings: Songs of a Native Son brings his work to life in person as requests and opportunities arise.

***

Chronic Discontent Books is proud to announce that William Frank Andrews will read his poem "Letter from a Soldier: At Franklin, Nov. 30, 1864" during the remembrance of the Unknown Soldier who will be buried after military honors Saturday, Oct. 10 in Franklin's Rest Haven Cemetery. According to the Williamson Herald the soldier's body was found May 14 on a Columbia Avenue construction site and while it was first thought he was a Union soldier due to buttons found with his body, his actual allegiance and home state are unknown. Also unknown is when the soldier died - whether it was in the Battle of Franklin or sometime thereafter as Confederates retreated from the area following the Battle of Nashville. But locals want to remember the soldier as an "American," the Herald said, citing Franklin City Administrator Eric Stuckey who told the newspaper: "This isn’t a Union or Confederate soldier, it is an American soldier just like Franklin is a beautiful American town.” Re-enactors in both northern and southern regalia will participate in the soldier's send-off, as well as a few 'True Sons' of Civil War veterans - elderly gentlemen whose fathers fought in the war including one who fought at Franklin for the Union side. The ceremony at St. Paul's will feature a eulogy from a Confederate chaplain and a benediction by a Union chaplain entitled, "A Balm for the Wounded and Dying." Also featured will be music by the 8th Georgia Regimental Band. Later will be a graveside 21-gun salute. The general public will not be able to get into St. Paul's Saturday morning, but will be able to follow the horse-drawn caisson carrying the soldier's body from St. Paul's down Main Street, around the Public Square, and north to Rest Haven where a pillar has been erected over the former fighting man's grave. "Letter from a Soldier" was published in Andrews' 2005 book, "From Humble Beginnings: Songs of a Native Son" and can be read here and purchased here. Read the Williamson Herald's coverage of the Unknown Soldier's burial beginning here.##

***

S.R. Lee, Frank Andrews and Susie Sims Irvin

Frank joined esteemed Williamson County poets S.R. Lee and Susie Sims Irvin in a Nov. 17 reading at St. Paul's Episcopal Church for the ladies of the Allied Arts Club. Frank read several poems including "Letter from a Soldier" about the Nov. 30, 1864 Battle of Franklin, which resulted in some 10,000 casualties including 6,000 killed. St. Paul's Episcopal Church and many other downtown Franklin buildings served as hospitals for Union and Confederate troops after the battle some have called the bloodiest of the Civil War. See the YouTube video of Frank discussing the Battle of Franklin and reading "Letter from a Soldier" here.

***

As part of the Williamson County Public Library's regular "Author Afternoons" series for Fall 2008, Frank spoke about his favorite poets and people of his hometown of Franklin on Saturday, Oct. 4. At the invitation of library Director Janice Keck, Frank discussed his introduction to poetry as a young man and read a number of poems by Jesse Stuart, Robert W. Service, and James Whitcomb Riley before introducing his book From Humble Beginnings: Songs of a Native Son. Frank shared his first poem, "Stepping Stones," and others including the Tennessee Homecoming Award-winning "Politikin'," "The Love Nest" and "Ode to a Son of a B----" and capped off the event with an a capella rendition of his original song, "Wagon Wheel." Thanks to Janice Keck for inviting Frank to speak to folks at his hometown library!

***

Frank spoke to fourth graders in Mrs. Woolridge's class at Buena Vista Elementary School in Nashville Feb. 8, 2008. During a special Black History Month reading Frank shared the work of his favorite poets including Jesse Stuart and also shared works by famous African-American poets including Langston Hughes. After an intruduction and reading by his son Thomas Brent Andrews, Frank read poems about his grandchildren and others from his 2005 book From Humble Beginnings: Songs of a Native Son. It was "Hybernation Day" for the Buena Vista Bears and students enjoyed Frank's reading dressed in their pajamas. Students especially enjoyed Frank's original songs, two of which he shared during his visit. A special "thank you" to Mrs. Woolridge for the invitation to speak to a very curious and responsive group of young people - some of them budding poets already.

***

Frank spoke to members of Nashville's Green Hills Rotary on Friday, June 22, 2007. After an introduction by fellow Realtor and family friend Tommy Anderson of Prudential Woodmont Realty, Frank urged Rotarians to get to know the work of Kentucky native and one-time Vanderbilt University graduate student Jesse Stuart, whose poems have influenced Andrews' own work. "If you don't know Jesse Stuart, haven't read some of his work, I recommend him very highly," he said of the late poet, adding, "He wrote 61 books and I have all of them but one." Frank read from Stuart's Man with a Bull-Tongue Plow and Robert W. Service's Rhymes of a Red Cross Man, in addition to sharing his own "Stranger," "A Cry For Peace," "Ode To An S.O.B.," and "The Love Nest." Andrews also read his Tennessee Homecoming Award-winning "Politikin'" prompting laughs from an audience which included Nashville attorney and mayoral candidate Karl Dean. The receptive crowd also heard Frank sing an original song and discuss the sources of his inspiration. Chronic Discontent Books thanks the Green Hills Rotary Club and especially Tommy Anderson for the invitation to share Frank's work with a wonderful group of community-oriented citizens.

Photos: Top, Frank Andrews speaks
as a guest of the Green Hills Rotary Club in
Nashville June 22. Below, Frank shares a
moment with Rotarian Pat Boatfield
of the Nashville Humane Association.

***

Frank shared his work and poetry from his favorite authors with The Optimist Club of Nashville/Downtown on June 14, 2007 at the invitation of sitting President Ora Eads. Speaking to members of the 67-year-old service organization at a regular luncheon at Ponderosa Steakhouse off Trinity Lane in Nashville, Frank recalled his own tenure as a Franklin Optimist before reading from Jesse Stuart's Man With A Bull-Tongue Plow. Frank shared his poems "Politikin'," "A Father's Cry For Peace," "Ode To An S.O.B.," The Stranger," and "The Love Nest" to the delight of the assembled Optimists. Frank closed with his poem "Lines from God" as well as a poem from another of his favorite authors, Robert W. Service: "Bessie's Boil" from The Collected Poems of Robert Service. Chronic Discontent Books thanks President Eads and the Downtown Optimists for their hospitality and a truly memorable visit.

***

Frank spoke to the Franklin Lions Club Tuesday, Feb. 14, 2006 at the invitation of club President Joey Davis. Speaking during the club’s regular business luncheon, Frank read “Politikin’,” “A Cry for Peace,” “Ode to an S.O.B.,” “The Love Nest,” and his very first poem “Stepping Stones” for the assembled Lions. Franklin’s oldest civic club, the Franklin Lions Club was founded in 1945 and is affiliated with the International Association of Lions Clubs. The Franklin Lions’ fund-raising activities include Franklin on the Fourth and the Lions Pride Breakfast. Lions provide eye-care services in the community in an effort to prevent blindness. A special thanks to Joey Davis for the invitation to speak to this esteemed group of community leaders.

Top, Frank Andrews introduces his book, From Humble Beginnings: Songs of a Native Son to members of the Franklin Lions Club Tuesday, Feb. 14. Above, Frank holds his book open to a picture of his grandmother, the late Mona Sullivan, who raised him along with his sister on a Williamson County farm.

***

Frank appeared on WAKM 950 AM in Franklin, Tennessee Feb. 6, 2006 on the Radio Close to Home show with host Gary Buchanan. Prompted by Buchanan and WAKM’s Tom Lawrence, Frank read his award-winning poem “Politikin’” and his son and publisher Brent Andrews read one of his favorites: “Lazy Summer.” Two callers to the show received books courtesy of Frank Andrews and WAKM. Thanks to Joey Davis, Williamson County Trustee, for calling-in and sharing stories about old times with Frank and to Gary Buchanan and Tom Lawrence for their time and professionalism!

***

Frank spoke to Freedom Intermediate School sixth-graders Dec. 13 at the invitation of teacher Paula Bobilin. Frank’s goal was to share his love of poetry with the students - some of them writers themselves - and encourage them to explore it on their own. Frank discussed the different styles of poetry and shared the work of his favorite poets including Jesse Stuart and James Whitcomb Riley in addition to reading from his own book. Thanks to the Freedom sixth-graders for making Frank feel welcome and to Ms. Bobilin for being such a gracious host. Thanks also to Freedom teacher Ann Wallace for facilitating this event!

Top and above, William Frank Andrews shares the work of some of his favorite poets with Freedom Intermediate School sixth-graders Dec. 13, 2005. Below left, Frank discusses poetry with the students. Below right, Frank is pictured with FIS teacher Paula Bobilin.

***

Frank appeared on NewsRadio 1510 WLAC (Nashville) on Nov. 13. Frank, a Tennessee certified residential real estate appraiser, vice-president of Andrews Appraisal Service, Inc. and managing broker of Church Street Realty in Franklin, discussed real estate appraising and read his poetry as a guest of The Wilson Group Real Estate Show with Hal Wilson and Christie Wilson. Frank shared poems including “A Cry For Peace,” “Ode to an S.O.B.” and ”The Appraiser” with Hal and Christie’s many listeners across Middle Tennessee. Six lucky callers to the show received autographed copies of Frank’s book courtesy of Chronic Discontent Books and NewsRadio 1510 WLAC.

Above, Frank Andrews (right) paused for a picture before appearing on The Wilson Group Real Estate Show Nov. 13 with Hal Wilson, left, and Christie Wilson. Below, Frank did some last minute prep work before reading his poems for Hal and Christie’s listeners across Middle Tennessee.

Stories and photos by Thomas Brent Andrews. To book speaking engagements email brentandrews1973 @ yahoo.com or contact Frank personally at saltwatermariner @ hotmail.com

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A Shirt Named Eugene

2006-03-08T21:06:00.001-06:00

A few days ago I was looking through my closet for an outfit to wear and became distressed at what I saw. I just could not seem to find anything to wear although I am blessed with an adequate wardrobe. I counted twenty-nine beautifully starched shirts; several jackets; a number of suits and quite a few pairs of mix-and-match pants.

After this quick review of my clothing assets I became thankful and reminisced a bit about my early childhood days when a shirt was a shirt and fit and color match didn’t really matter.

I was raised by maternal grandparents who had thirteen children of their own and many times we were the recipients of boxes of used clothing that was sent to us by a Methodist preacher who lived down in Giles County, Tennessee. Brother Moore had a rural congregation that was good about sending clothing to the poor. He also had a son named Eugene Moore who was slightly older and larger than me. At the time I was about eight years old and probably tipped the scales around forty-five pounds. Well, Eugene would wear his clothes until he outgrew them and then stuff them in the poor box to bless some other less fortunate child.

I remember the day this shirt named Eugene arrived at my house. It came in with a menagerie of other bright-colored but somewhat faded garments. When it came from the box it was thrust into my hands. Someone said, “Here Frank is a white shirt for you.”

It was a little over-sized for me but that didn’t matter as I was used to wearing over-sized clothes. What really mattered about this particular shirt was that across the top of the pocket emblazoned in green was the word:

EUGENE

Some mother had lovingly crocheted her son’s name in pretty green lettering on my shirt.

I wore this shirt to school and church for a few weeks and the teacher began to call me Eugene. I tried to explain that my name was not Eugene, that was the name of my shirt and I would like it very much if she would stop calling me Eugene. I never did like the name Frank but at least that was what my long-departed mother and daddy had named me. Also, my grandparents continued to call me Frank after I came to live with them when I was about two years old.

I recall the most-sad fate for the shirt named Eugene. It was Sunday morning and the family had made arrangements with one of the older boys to take us to see this preacher in Giles County who had the boy named Eugene who had outgrown the shirt named Eugene. In those mid-forties years a trip to town was an event, but a trip to a faraway place like Pulaski, Tennessee was a lifetime dream. We had planned all week what to wear and the old smoothing irons had been put to work to press all the Sunday clothes that would be needed. Eugene the shirt got special attention for me as it was my only shirt. I was up bright and early with much anticipation and dressed as soon as breakfast was over. I went outside to play until the rest of the family was ready. Well lo and behold what should happen to me and my shirt named Eugene but slip and fall in the slick dew-covered grass? Grass might have been all right except for the fact that the ducks in our yard had nested the night before in this particular spot of grass and these ducks had left their evidence in many places – including the exact spot where Eugene the shirt chose to land.

When I struggled to my feet I knew that my trip was definitely on hold and that Eugene the shirt could be put to permanent rest. However, since there was still a little time left my grandmother quickly washed the shirt and removed all evidence of the ducks and had it dry for me to wear. I remember how sad I felt about wearing the shirt named Eugene to see the boy who had given it to me.

I sure was glad when I outgrew the shirt named Eugene.

April 17, 1989

YouTube Video: Frank discusses getting the "shirt named Eugene" with poets S.R. Lee and Susie Sims Irvin before a reading for the Williamson County Allied Arts Club at St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Nov. 17, 2008.

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1 Comment
»

Thanks for sharing your story of “Eugene the shirt”. So many thoughts fly through my head … how character grows in the fertile ground of humble beginnings … how ’stuff’ isn’t necessarily a prerequisite of happiness … how today’s children with their extensive ‘must-have’ wardrobes must struggle to find deeper meaning in their lives ….

I hope Eugene the shirt went on to grace the lives of other young boys! Maybe, he’s still out there, somewhere …. Pam

Comment by Pam Kidd — November 1, 2005 @ 10:57 pm |Edit This

Selected Poems by William Franklin Andrews

2006-03-08T21:01:00.001-06:00

A CRY FOR PEACE

Now my heart in somber silence cries for sorrow in the Earth;
All the maimed and dying soldiers ask the question, “Why my birth?”
Frightened mothers – somber fathers wonder when the word is said
Will my son come home forever? Will the word come he is dead?

Leaders falter; offer reasons for the dying and the pain.
Will the peace which seems so fragile ever come to earth again?
While we bury brave young warriors; innocence still in their face,
All the world should hide their faces in dishonor and disgrace.

It seems that war is always with us – every generation knows;
Hurt of death and young men dying; will the tears not cease to flow?
I will work from this day forward with a dedicated zeal
For a better world to live in and the wounds to help to heal.

For I have a son so able – and the thought just makes me cry,
If he ever had to leave us; and in some foreign country die.
Madness evermore would haunt me and his mother’s mind would break.
And the world would lose a flower that could never be replaced.

To you leaders of our nation; to you military men;
Let me calmly give this warning for your thoughtlessness and sin.
Judgment waits in all its fury if you fail to hear the plea
Of the hundreds and thousands – moms and dads who cry like me.

THE ONE-LEGGED DUCK

Did you ever see a one-legged duck
On a pond where turtles had been?
Splashing and sunning his troubles away
As if he had two legs again?

Well a one-legged duck is friendly because
He tries but can’t run away.
He limps along and swims half as fast
As his two-legged friend by-the-way.

If you ever see a one-legged duck,
On a pond just flailing away;
Remember you are his two-legged friend
Without any troubles today.

For if you could be a duck for a day
With only one leg for a while;
You never would frown ever again
Your face would break out in a smile.

TWEEDLE-DEE-DEE

Tweedle-dee Tweedle-dee Tweedle-dee-dum
Howbeit that you so lately have come
Down by the old mill searching for me,
Tweedle-dee Tweedle-dee Tweedle-dee-dee.

Where are you going with spring in your step?
Why here of late have our date you not kept?
When will I be safe to say, “Please marry me”
Tweedle-dee Tweedle-dee Tweedle-dee-dee.

When will your vain promise come to an end?
Where could you start if your ways you would mend?
Keep up your gait and some bad end you’ll see.
Tweedle-dee Tweedle-dee Tweedle-dee-dee.

First you told Johnny and next you told Bill
That they you would marry and give ‘em a thrill.
Now after much wooing you have promised me
Tweedle-dee Tweedle-dee Tweedle-dee-dee.

I’ll make you so happy for the rest of your life.
You’ll never be sorry that you are my wife.
If we cling together, soon there’ll be three
Tweedle-dee Tweedle-dee Tweedle-dee-dee.

RECENT POEMS BY WILLIAM FRANKLIN ANDREWS

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Book Release Party

2006-03-08T20:46:00.000-06:00

ABOVE, author William Franklin Andrews reads portions of his book, From Humble Beginnings: Songs of a Native Son to an audience of family and friends at Landmark Booksellers in Franklin Sunday, Oct. 9, 2005.

Author William Franklin Andrews read from his new poetry book, From Humble Beginnings: Songs of a Native Son Sunday, Oct. 9 at Landmark Booksellers in Franklin. A bookstore full of people turned out to hear Frank read such family favorites as “Letter From Franklin: Nov. 30, 1864,” and “Stepping Stones,” the first poem in this collection. After the second reading of the day Andrews even sang his original song, “Wagon Wheel” to the delight of his audience. With food provided by Carolyn Andrews, the event was a big success. Special thanks are due to the Landmark Booksellers staff for their kind treatment and professional help making this book release party happen; and to the invited guests who made it a success.

Below, from left to right, Victor, Frank, Carolyn and Brent Andrews and Becky Andrews-Steere pause for a photo outside Landmark Booksellers during the party. Photo courtesy of Brandy Blanton / Southern Exposure Magazine.

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From Humble Beginnings

Musings from Normandy

Recent Poems by William Franklin Andrews

Prologue: Mule Barn Blues

Foreword by Mary Trim Anderson

Speaking Engagements

A Shirt Named Eugene

1 Comment»

Selected Poems by William Franklin Andrews

Book Release Party

1 Comment
»