John F. McCullagh

(09/28/1954 / Flushing)

Charnel High

in the High School cafeteria
there was horror on the menu;
A loner with a pistol
seeking victims and a venue.

Three times the pistol fired
and kids began to fall.
It might have been a massacre
if not for old Frank Hall.

Frank Hall was the football coach
with a short and stubby frame.
While others fled, he charged towards
this criminal insane.

Frank Hall didn't stop to think
he didn't have the time.
As he charged towards the gunman
His life was on the line.

The gunman fired once at Frank,
the shot rang high and wide
It caught a fleeing coed,
put a flesh wound in her side.

The gunman turned in panic
as the first responders came
He fled into the nearby woods,
just some kid named T.J. Lane.

Three teenagers lay dying,
one more would never stand.
Many more lives had been spared
by the courage of one man.

He comforted the dying
as the ambulance came late.
The moment found the man-
was it providence or fate?

Submitted: Thursday, June 20, 2013
Edited: Friday, June 21, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

The story of coach Frank Hall of Chandon, Ohio. An American hero

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