Here is a memory from Mom (Bebe) and a poem that was Buster's favorite:
"I liked our Sunday rides in the car to Manitou, Broadmoor or up the canyon to Helen Hunt Falls or up Ute Pass. I liked Sunday dinners and the family feelings that I cherish, in spite of washing dishes. I like Sunday evening supper of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwich or open face tuna sandwich with tuna, tomato, bacon and cheese grilled on a hamburger bun. We watched the Ed Sullivan show and maybe Disneyland.
Daddy ad Mother liked to watch the Lawrence Welk show on Saturday evenings. TV was a treat. Daddy sat in the big green chair and enjoyed the evening."
Trees
by Sergeant Joyce Kilmer
165th Infantry (69th New York)
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain’
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
by Sergeant Joyce Kilmer
165th Infantry (69th New York)
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain’
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.