Excerpt from my Memoir: Where songs come from…

One of the things I have discovered about myself is that no matter how many good things have happened to me on my way to the comfortable life I now enjoy, I am still marked by the struggles of getting here. I will always be the kid, born into poverty, the teen who struggled all the way to adulthood, the high school dropout, and eventually a member of the blue-collar working class laboring long and hard to provide for my family in awful jobs, inclement weather and dangerous workplace conditions.

I still feel the pangs of the “Working Class” and, I presume, always will. I started putting to pen and paper my feelings in the 1980s after having a reasonable amount of success, getting a “late in life” college education and sitting behind a desk with my own employees. These days, as a Writer, I reflect back on my life and try to capture those feelings in memoir.

The following is putting that pen those feelings. I wrote this in the 1990s as a way to pay tribute to a great portion of our country, who I think get “Too Little Credit.” I sent copies to both Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton & Joe Biden before the last three elections, hoping they would recognize and feel those same pangs. I am hoping you can relate.

“Working Class Hero”

His daddy once told him he had a load to bear

So he’s out there toiling always doing his share

He’s pulling his load, plus another for someone

Getting too little credit for a job so well done

He’s a working class hero… you can see him everyday

Works with his hands all across the USA

You can see him as you travel in the factories, farms and fields

All across America, he’s the one that builds

He builds those superhighways, works in a railroad yard

Tills the soil from dawn til dusk, he labors long and hard

He goes off to war, defends our great land

Then he comes home to start his life again

It’s a life full of struggle, hands are soiled

Hands scarred and calloused, from a lifetime of toil

He asks no special favors, he takes what life brings

He only asks his one chance for a grab at the brass ring

He labors long and labors hard, hope for his children will be his reward

So his sons and his daughters can reach for the stars

I know you’ve seen him, there is sweat upon his brow

But his will can’t be broken, he’ll mange somehow

He’s someone quite special; he’s someone you know

He’s America’s finest… he’s a working class hero!