Just Before The Harvest Poem by John F. McCullagh

That day stands sharp in focus
Whenever it's called to mind;
A peaceful Sunday Morning,
just before the Harvest time.

They held a picnic benefit
Each year on public land
For the Widows and the Orphans
Of the firefighters clan
.
All gladly paid to enter
and bought chance books besides.
The old men brought their families
The young men brought their brides.

Bouncing on the rides and slides
erected for them here-
The children had the best of times
as their mothers hovered near.

The men were cooking barbecue,
Tossing footballs, drinking beers
You'd recognize their names-
because you hear them once a year.

The day was nearly cloudless
Seldom was the sky so blue.
Who knew so many would be lost
before that week was through.

Within two days too many here
were cut down in their prime.
Betrayed by poor equipment-
They could not escape in time.

But I, permitted to grow old,
remain to testify
about the courage of my friends-.
so that their memory never dies.

That day is sharp in focus
Whenever it's called to mind;
A peaceful Sunday Morning,
just before the Harvest time.

My Brother-in –law is an active member of the F.D.N.Y. and on Sunday, September 9,2001 we joined with his family to attend a picnic held on Staten Island. It was a charity event designed to raise funds for the Widows and Orphans of Firefighters who had answered the last alarm.

I am often asked if I lost friends in the World Trade Center. My answer is that we all did.