Sam R. Breedlove, June 22, 1915 – December 24, 2008
Honor, integrity, work ethic.
“Very good supper, Mrs. B.”
Grace before every meal.
I cried that my younger sister
was about to marry and at 23
it seemed I never world.
Dumbfounded, at a loss for words,
hugs and comfort worked, treasured.
“Don’t be sorry, don’t do it.”
“There’s nothing new and improved.” 
Lover letters from Africa, India,
“censored by Sam.”
Sunday School Superintendent,
song leader, soloist, mayor,
draftsman, engineer,
traveling salesman.
“When I yell ‘Suzy’ everybody
better come.” Did he ever yell Suzy?
“Skinamarink a dink-a-dink,
skinamarink ado.”
Love for “Trumpeters’ Holiday,”
bassos profundo. Ugly women
who sing best. If a pickup
on a country road pulls way right
they’re turning left. A book with
an extra, always. I learned
a few months ago
the funeral home built a room
so “Sam” could sing for funerals
without washing off tinshop-grime.
Daddy’s “Lord’s Prayer”
(aka Hoffmeister’s)
A life well lived, well loved.
When we all get to heaven,
what a day of rejoicing
that will be.
(the victory)