Galveston, Oh, Galveston

Blog 1121 – 09.21.2018

Galveston, Oh, Galveston

The body of water that I have spent way over half of my life near is the Gulf Of Mexico having spent over thirty-five years in Houston which is approximately forty miles north of the island city of Galveston. Years before I saw that city and fell in love with it, I fell in love with Glen Campbell’s hauntingly beautiful song about it.

https://drive.google.com/open?id=11q0f-DaHG-LxN62-z_3ESB6DuKWZ7Gds

Galveston

Here are the lyrics:

Galveston

Galveston, oh, Galveston,

I still hear your seawinds blowing;

I still see her dark eyes glowing.

She was twenty one, when I left Galveston.

Galveston, oh, Galveston,

I still hear your seawaves crashin,

while I watch the cannons flashin’.

I clean my gun, and dream of Galveston.

I still see her standing by the water,

Standing there looking out to sea.

And is she waiting there for me,

On the beach where we used to run?

Galveston, oh!

Galveston, I am so afraid of dying,

Before I dry the tears she’s crying,

Before I watch your sea birds flying in the sun, at Galveston, at Galveston.

Songwriters: Jimmy L Webb

Galveston lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

The song was released as a single, with How Come Every Time I Itch on the flip side, just a little less than a year before I left for a long, long hot summer in South Vietnam, my vacation paid for in full courtesy of my Uncle Sam. Unlike the young man in the song I left my girl in Chattanooga not Galveston but like him, I too, was afraid that I might never return to dry her tears. Foolish fear as it turns out, aren’t they all really, for I did return but sadly she did not want me when I did. Poor Baby, but soon somebody did and I got over it as we will most hurts and disappointments if we just let ourselves.

Actually it was not till the year I got back from Vietnam that I really fell in love with the song Galveston. In Fayetteville, North Carolina, just off base from Fort Bragg which was my final duty station where I completed my Army enlistment. It was there I licked my wounds over the lost of my pretty little girl, my first wife Barbara Ann. She hated the song by The Beach Boys by that name but it still reminds me of her. I do recall her favorite song, at least for the forty or so days I tried my best to get her to leave Chattanooga and come to Fayetteville with me and be my wife. It was Knock Three Times By Tony Orlando and Dawn. She played that forty five recording over and over. I did not appreciate it much then as it seemed to me to be about her wanting someone else. I have since learned to see it differently and appreciate the song and even appreciate that I and others get to choose where and with whom we spend our lives.

A friend and fellow writer in Australia, Paul V. Cann, writes the best free verse poetry that I have ever read and his romantic poetry is seductive and sensual without being in any way pornographic. My own erotic poetry is so much so that I only share it selectively and have even thought of trying to publish it under another name. Ha, and maybe I will someday. But back to my point about Paul, he posted a short poem about a mentor in love, the one first to really teach us how to love and to let ourselves be loved physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally, as the song says, “Please Go All The Way.” Great song but an even greater experience especially the first time we give another person all we’ve got and feel that full measure met and returned. Today’s picture, The Rapture Of Psyche painting, is a wonderful depiction of what I am writing about here.

I remember and always will a walk on the beach in Galveston after a night of dancing and love making at the historic Galvez Hotel, just across the highway from that romantic beach. It was the homecoming from Vietnam that I had hoped for but had to postpone for several years. That wonderful woman also would give me my Jonathan David as no other woman ever could or would.

“Galveston, oh, Galveston, I still see you sea waves crashing.”

Your friend and fellow traveler,

David White

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