Omaha, Nebraska
Seated in the squalor that was
Council Bluffs in those days,
the big city seemed far away.
Even if she got there, someday
how would she find a job
that could pay? Really pay?
She dug up some money,
got a gown downtown and
she could pass for 21 (at 16).
She knew she could sing, then…
She dipped into Mama’s purse
and cursed herself for doing it, but
Mama wouldn’t miss the compact
as she was currently in the mental ward.
“I’m gonna look older, live bolder.”
And Dad was using his daughter
in ways that would not win him
Father of the Year awards.
So she packed up her pack,
left before Dad got back,
and boarded the ferry one day.
Hotel Blackstone hired her
at first sight and first song,
and yes, they would pay, hooray!
In years to come, she would
travel around, by bus, by car,
by train (not by plane).
She owed her start in large part to
Omaha. And Council Bluffs?
Only if there was a funeral.
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For ABC Wednesday, brought to you by the letter “O.” Also at my poetic hangout, Poets United.
Image courtesy of “Heaven’s Gates,” but DAMN! This singer in the photo is an absolute ringer for my mom, Charlotte, in those days, when she sang as Patty Long and later as Jan Long (Binghamton already had one Patty Long!).
Sharp Little Pencil 
Lisa
A poignant and moving poem to remember your mom. That is quite a story. Nicely done. I used to live in Omaha; thought it was a great town…if it had been about 500 miles SOUTH!
Sharp Little Pencil
I feel your pain, weather-wise, living in Madison, WI. But it’s weird – even though I have seasonal affective disorder, there’s still more sun here than my hometown, far to the south, Binghamton, NY. Thanks for stopping, Lisa! Amy
Carver
Great post for O day. Outstanding! Carver, ABC Wednesday Team
Sharp Little Pencil
Optimism + Overflow = Outcomes!
Steve E
THAT’S what I wanna do: “Look older, live bolder”!
WAIT A MINUTE!! I already Do BOTH of those–happily grinning!
Q. fear of flying?
Q #2 Did that funeral take place? In Council Bluffs?
More comment: I bet you were an American Idol.
Before the TV show, of course!
BTW, I have not mentioned how I agree with, and LOVE these words:
“…I don’t think there is any one, true path to God and accept any faith or journey that springs from LOVE…” Atheist or whatever.
Also, did I tell you I played solo violin in Carnegie Hall? True. I got there 1½ hour before rehearsal began, and I stood on that stage and played my heart out. Some Mendelssohn, some Beethoven–just so one day i could say I DID that! My only audience was a guy with a vacuum, cleaning carpet between seat rows in the balcony.
BYE!
Sharp Little Pencil
Steve! Looking older, living bolder, I’m 55 and still an anti-war activist, among other rebellious activities taught me by the lady on the stamp there. She was doing the civil rights thing when I was growing up…
No fear of flying. Bands never flew in those days; commercial traffic didn’t “take off” (pun intended) until after WWII, when she married Dad.
Her mom’s funeral, then her dad’s, and finally her great-aunt, and she brought home Auntie Ruth (the widowed daughter) with her. Ruthie deserves her own poem, though… but other than honoring family, never went back.
LOVE the Carnegie Hall story. Happens all the time; you’re in good company! Thanks, Steve, you always make me smile! Amy
Anthony North
This was powerful. Excellently done.
Sharp Little Pencil
Anthony, thanks so much for this. I cannot believe how much my mom resembled the singer on the stamp… back in the day!
vivinfrance
I loved this, right up to the last line – which I didn’t understand. Your poetry is so very visual that films start to roll in my head the moment I start to read.
Sharp Little Pencil
Viv, I, like you, are a visual person. I envy your quilting abilities… you have a poet’s hand threading your needle.
The last line refers to the fact that she hated Council Bluffs and her memories of her dad, mom in the asylum, and sheer poverty that she only went back when someone in the family died. Sorry this wasn’t clearer. Thanks! Amy
ihatepoetry
I love how you mine your history for material – this is your autobiography one poem at a time- love it very much , and love you too – your brudda from anudda mudda, Mosk
Sharp Little Pencil
Brudda Buddah, (hello mudda hello fadda), my autobiography is so intertwined with the stories of my family, especially my mom and her Irish relatives, it would be impossible to tell my story without theirs. The soil from which I spring – replete with gin, addictions, bad DNA, and pigs in the parlor!! Love you, brudda, Ameleh
Roger Green
Nice depressing tale.
Somehow Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom is running through my head.
ROG, ABC Wednesday team
Sharp Little Pencil
Oh, Roger, now I’ll have THAT in my head for two hours. Remember Jack Whatsis, who was always wrestling alligators while Marlin Perkins would jabber on? (Actually, both my best friend John and I though Jack was really hot!!) Ha ha. Amy
kaykuala
A courageous girl, a determined lady. Omaha had been a savior apparently. Like the resolve shown by the girl as a principle to ensure food on the plate. Great thoughts Amy!
Hank
Sharp Little Pencil
Hank, I learned survival techniques from the best: My mother. She always told me, have a trade, a talent, something to fall back on. OF course, she also sang jazz around the house all day, so I just followed in her footsteps… Amy
Subhan Zein
This is a nice post. Well done!
Subhan Zein
Sharp Little Pencil
Subhan! Welcome to the wacky world of Amy! Thank you very much, and now I’ll pay you a visit… Peace, Amy
Tracy Crenshaw
I love that this poem is such a well crafted story, and with such a well developed and interesting character. As always, I am a fan.