eots
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[ame=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gvtQA4gbRw&feature=related]The Ballad of Ira Hayes - Kris Kristofferson - YouTube[/ame]
Happy thanksgiving Ira Hayes
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Trajan
conscientia mille testes
who?
J/K..I have been to his grave site at Arlington.....RIP
J/K..I have been to his grave site at Arlington.....RIP
Samson
Póg Mo Thóin
I prefer the Johnny Cash version
[youtube]NdNV9JX-Xi8[/youtube]
[youtube]NdNV9JX-Xi8[/youtube]
hortysir
In Memorial of 47
I think Kris probably wrote it though
Samson
Póg Mo Thóin
Last edited:
hortysir
In Memorial of 47
I worked, for a while, at a convenience store at a busy highway intersection.
There was an old homeless man that frequented for the coffee and beer that he could buy with the dollars he begged from travelers.
Sometimes, working the graveyard shift, my wife would come and sit with me and talk and visit with Jim.
Jim was a free spirit of sorts. He was homeless by choice.
Apparently he had scads of cash but his son would ration it out to him, I guess to try to keep him from a Poe existence.
Thanksgiving came around and it was getting unusually cold that year for central Florida so we invited Jim to our house for Thanksgiving dinner.
I have spent a few years hitching around the country so we had plenty to talk about. We let him shower while my wife washed all the clothes in his bags before bedding down for the night.
When I left that store to take another job I would still see Jim from time to time around town. I could always count on a wave and a smile if I didn't have time to stop and chat.
As often happens, I got wrapped up in my day-day life and hadn't seen Jim for a little while.
One day in November I opened our local paper and saw his picture.
He was being interviewed as part of observing Veterans Day.
With all the talks and chats I had enjoyed with Jim through the years I never learned that he was there at Iwo Jima. He was there for the famous photograph.
What really touched my heart, besides knowing that I was "friends" with a war hero, was, when asked about heroism, he told the reporter that the biggest heroes he ever knew were a kind couple that brought him into their home for Thanksgiving and opened there hearts to a virtual stranger.
Today I'm thankful for so many things.
I thank you for this thread that brought up these memories of Jim.
There was an old homeless man that frequented for the coffee and beer that he could buy with the dollars he begged from travelers.
Sometimes, working the graveyard shift, my wife would come and sit with me and talk and visit with Jim.
Jim was a free spirit of sorts. He was homeless by choice.
Apparently he had scads of cash but his son would ration it out to him, I guess to try to keep him from a Poe existence.
Thanksgiving came around and it was getting unusually cold that year for central Florida so we invited Jim to our house for Thanksgiving dinner.
I have spent a few years hitching around the country so we had plenty to talk about. We let him shower while my wife washed all the clothes in his bags before bedding down for the night.
When I left that store to take another job I would still see Jim from time to time around town. I could always count on a wave and a smile if I didn't have time to stop and chat.
As often happens, I got wrapped up in my day-day life and hadn't seen Jim for a little while.
One day in November I opened our local paper and saw his picture.
He was being interviewed as part of observing Veterans Day.
With all the talks and chats I had enjoyed with Jim through the years I never learned that he was there at Iwo Jima. He was there for the famous photograph.
What really touched my heart, besides knowing that I was "friends" with a war hero, was, when asked about heroism, he told the reporter that the biggest heroes he ever knew were a kind couple that brought him into their home for Thanksgiving and opened there hearts to a virtual stranger.
Today I'm thankful for so many things.
I thank you for this thread that brought up these memories of Jim.
hortysir
In Memorial of 47
I typed that before I listened and realized it was 2 different songs.
Old Rocks
Diamond Member
Lyrics to The Ballad Of Ira Hayes :
Ira Hayes,
Ira Hayes
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war
Gather round me people there's a story I would tell
About a brave young Indian you should remember well
From the land of the Pima Indian
A proud and noble band
Who farmed the Phoenix valley in Arizona land
Down the ditches for a thousand years
The water grew Ira's peoples' crops
'Till the white man stole the water rights
And the sparklin' water stopped
Now Ira's folks were hungry
And their land grew crops of weeds
When war came, Ira volunteered
And forgot the white man's greed
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war
There they battled up Iwo Jima's hill,
Two hundred and fifty men
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again
And when the fight was over
And when Old Glory raised
Among the men who held it high
Was the Indian, Ira Hayes
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war
Ira returned a hero
Celebrated through the land
He was wined and speeched and honored; Everybody shook his hand
But he was just a Pima Indian
No water, no crops, no chance
At home nobody cared what Ira'd done
And when did the Indians dance
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war
Then Ira started drinkin' hard;
Jail was often his home
They'd let him raise the flag and lower it
like you'd throw a dog a bone!
He died drunk one mornin'
Alone in the land he fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch
Was a grave for Ira Hayes
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war
Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes
But his land is just as dry
And his ghost is lyin' thirsty
In the ditch where Ira died
Ira Hayes,
Ira Hayes
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war
Gather round me people there's a story I would tell
About a brave young Indian you should remember well
From the land of the Pima Indian
A proud and noble band
Who farmed the Phoenix valley in Arizona land
Down the ditches for a thousand years
The water grew Ira's peoples' crops
'Till the white man stole the water rights
And the sparklin' water stopped
Now Ira's folks were hungry
And their land grew crops of weeds
When war came, Ira volunteered
And forgot the white man's greed
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war
There they battled up Iwo Jima's hill,
Two hundred and fifty men
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again
And when the fight was over
And when Old Glory raised
Among the men who held it high
Was the Indian, Ira Hayes
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war
Ira returned a hero
Celebrated through the land
He was wined and speeched and honored; Everybody shook his hand
But he was just a Pima Indian
No water, no crops, no chance
At home nobody cared what Ira'd done
And when did the Indians dance
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war
Then Ira started drinkin' hard;
Jail was often his home
They'd let him raise the flag and lower it
like you'd throw a dog a bone!
He died drunk one mornin'
Alone in the land he fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch
Was a grave for Ira Hayes
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war
Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes
But his land is just as dry
And his ghost is lyin' thirsty
In the ditch where Ira died
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