I Remember ...
by K. Amspacher
I remember a man ...
with hands bent with age and
work;
Hands that had been used to build dreams, not just boats ...
Hands that had worked a harpoon to kill a whale ...
Hands that had torn down house to move across open water to safer
ground ...
Hands that had mended net and tilled a garden ...
Hands that had tended children and patted dogs.
Hands that used to wave toward Cape Lookout - “O’er
yonder ...” he would say,
Home.”
Hands that woluld clap with joy in church when they’d “sing
one of them old songs.”
I remember a man ...
with a mind that could encompass
engineering skills and theories without names;
A mind, though never formally educated, but self-taught and life-experienced
...
A mind that pondered politics, and world religion, and marine
biology ...
A mind that understood the tides, the schooling of fish, the breeding
habits of whales and birds.
A mind that loved to read ... about people and places never seen,
A mind that would keep him young for almost 100 years.
I remember a man ...
With a lifespan that crossed
two centuries, born in one and died in another,
but a part of both.
A life that “mattered” ... that GAVE far more than
it TOOK, that gave the wordl an inspiration to work hard and care
about others;
A life that would watch the world change around it, and yet stand
strong in the basic priciples instilled in its beginning.
A life that would never be forgotten.
I remember a man ...
A man named Stacy Guthrie
... “Uncle Stacy” to me.
Happy Birthday Uncle Stacy
- born Christmas Day on Shackleford Banks.
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