Edgar Albert Guest (August 20, 1881 - August 5, 1959 / Birmingham / England)

My favorite poem by Guest is not on here. That's such a shame. It's called Teamwork. Google it (:

This was so appropriate for today's drivers. It was on the back of a 1949 Hudson car manual:

COURTESY / Edgar A. Guest © 1947

Not the “right of way” when driving, but the simple way of right and never once forgetting to be courteous and polite.
A little bit of patience as behind the wheel you sit and you’ll never lose a fender and a child you’ll never hit.

Oh, the worst of phrases ringing all through motordom today is that selfish bit of wording that is known as “right of way.”
It has filled the graves of many who have sped some road along, since death never asks the question, is the driver right or wrong.

Just a little thought for others, just remembering to be kind, just the willingness in traffic to slow down and stay behind.
Just the show of gracious manners which all gentle folks display, and all the accidents that happen will be fewer day by day.

Just control that flash of temper when another sounds his horn. In the car may be a mother soon to have her baby born.
Be considerate in your driving and be courteous and be kind, and you’ll reach your dwelling safely and you’ll keep your peace of mind.

I grew up listening to WJR radio out of Detroit; listening to Edgar A. Guest's son, Bud Guest was part of everyday life. I remember one of his dad's poems, 'Open-face Letters' as the earliest one I can recall. This man's poetry and his son's voice are some of the homey things from The Good Old Days. They influenced me to begin writing poetry, too. Although I ended up published with novels, I still write the occasional poem, partly due to the Guests.

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