Patricia Ann

Patricia Ann Carl is my 2d cousin (once removed).  Aunt Ginny wrote a poem especially for her when she was a child (I'm assuming).  Ginger Brown, Patricia's daughter, forwarded it for inclusion here with Patricia's permission.

         Patricia Ann
      by Virginia Conway

She’s fairy like as elfin gay
This little niece who came to stay
At our house a few weeks ago
No other child so sweet we know
She vies in beauty all the flowers
Perhaps it’s because she’s ours.
She’s part, she’s all in every plan
We thank you Lord, for Patricia Ann

And, as I suspected, there is a story behind "Patricia Ann",and as I rather suspected, it further reveals the special person our Aunt Ginny was.  The following from Patricia via her daughter Ginger.  Italics mine.:

There is a story behind the poem. My grandmother, Virginia (this would be my second cousin, Virginia L. Harrison), had a previous child that died during childbirth. He was over 10 pounds and healthy (Momma was 6 pounds.), but my grandmother had him at home, and she was small. As a precaution, when she became pregnant with my mother, Virgil (This would be my second cousin Dr. Virgil Holt Crowder who was personal physician to every one of us) kept a close eye on her weight and made her move to Lawrenceburg well ahead of her due date. My mother was due in December, and the home she lived in was completely surrounded by creeks. If the creeks "got up", there was no way to get out; so she went to stay with her Aunt Ginny. Sound familiar? After my mother was born, they returned to Aunt Ginny's for a brief time, and that's when she wrote the poem. I knew part of this story but not all. I'm glad you asked for it!

God Smiles

Let us catch a new glimpse of His

                    kindness

As we wander along o'er Life's miles;

Our dear Father will ever be gracious--

Through sunshine and storm our God smiles.

                                      V. Conway

My Brother's Keeper

I pray, dear God, no matter what my

                            fate,

That through the years my heart be

                            free of hate;

Though many hurts may scar this soul

                            of mine,

While other folks possess the stars

                            that shine;

Give me a heart that's clean unto the

                             end--

Make me my brother's keeper and his

                             friend.

                                     V. Conway

May 12, 1931

Dreaming of dreams with a

                    star-spangled sky,

Hiding in laughter a wounded

                   heart's cry

Of losing the dreams and

                  questioning why,

Down the long years.

                            Virginia Conway

May 28, 1926

"Look well to today,

that every yesterday

may be of dreams of

happiness and every

 tomorrow a vision

of hope"-

Christmas--It Is Love (Greatly expanded revision of 'Christmas Is Love')

'Christmas Is Love', a previous post, was handwritten in Aunt Ginnie's yearbook and was transcribed that way.  This poem is an expanded version of that, typed out on paper, which makes it her final version.

The spirit of Christmas is loving,

Then why have it for only a day?

Let us keep it and give and share it--

May it come into our lives to stay.

When the angels brought the good tidings

Of joy--was it just for a day,

Or was it to last through the ages

For friends to love and to pray?

We cannot buy love in the stores,
They never have it for sale;
Friendship is not kept on the shelves
Nor wrapped in a package to mail.

You cannot find understanding

In the rush of the crowded throngs,

But you will find it in the hearts of

                          people,

And that is where it belongs.

The spirit of loving does something

That makes one's eyes fill with tears;

Makes one feel soft, warm, and tingling--

Not just for a day but for years.

It is love that tugs at our heart-strings

As we think of the Babe in the manger,

It is love with its softening influence

That makes us have smiles for the stranger.

May we keep it, live it, and share it,

Through joy, through sorrow, and strife,

That more may believe and not perish,

But have Everlasting Life.

                                                  V.C.

An Inventory of Life January 3, 1949

I took time out for an inventory today

Of joys that life has strewn along my
                       way;

A dream or two which had been allowed
                       to rust

Now cast a gleam of gold through
                       gathering dust.

I trod the paths that led to sleeping
                      years,

In Memory's room I stopped and left
                      some tears.

I peered within the attic of my heart

As I with old-time relics now must part.

The keepsakes of old years I almost touch,

They still are dear and I love them very
                      much;

And while old memories like a tear drop
                      gleam,

I steal away and with me take a dream.

                                                      V.C.

The Golden Thread

When we come to the close of a busy day

And all our colors seem drab and gray,

The Master Weaver looks down with a smile

And says, "You will learn it after a while."

He holds the shuttle in his nail-scarred

                        hand

As he says, "Someday you will understand

Why your threads are drab and others gay

In the tapestry you  are trying to weave today."

Remember the thread to the Master's throne

Is the golden thread, "Thy will be done;"

No tapestry woven will be complete

And land one's soul to the Master's feet,

Lest approved by the Master Weaver's smile,

As he says, "Well done, come home, my child."

So remember the thread to the Master's throne

Is the golden thread, "Thy will be done'"

                                                   V.C.

Life's Garden of Roses (Mother's Day)

This poem was penned in on the reverse of "the Better Part".  Much of the ink has faded away.  I don't know exactly how old it is but it would appear that the wish is for a living 'mother' so I would say it's for my grandmother, Mary Lee, which would place it prior to 1945.

You've tended life's garden

                         of roses

With a mother's special care,

With a touch of love and tenderness

That's always gleaming there.

You've filled our hearts with

                         memories

Of your understanding way,

And may special joys be blooming

For you on this special day.

As you're tending life's garden

                        of roses,

May God in His special way

Guide, guard, and bless and

                        keep you

Today and every day.

                                         V.C.

The Better Part

If I could send a blessing

     A kind that's rare and new

I think I'd choose contentment

     To send along to you.

Because it's fine and precious...

     'Tis not a gift of mine...

But one of intrinsic value

     From the Giver of Gifts Divine.

I'd like to light the candles

     To shine within your heart;

As day by day you trust and serve

     And learn the better part.

                                              V.C.

The Land of Yester-Year

At the end of this poem Aunt Ginnie wrote the following annotation:

"I was the little girl.  I sat in the top of the little tree and read poetry until twilight many a day.  V.C.

Virginia Conway on the family farm in Appleton, TN, abt 7-8 yo

There's a wonder-land way back in the

                              past

With clusters of memories dear,

There weren't any sorrows 'cept children's

                              kind

In the dear land of Yester-year.

A dear little tree by a roadside green,

Bordered with blossoms so gay;

A wee little girl on the topmost branch,

A readin' the livelong day.--

Till the sun goes down and the shadows

Come stealin' over us all;

A voice so anxiously callin',

"Look out, daughter, you'll fall."

Through the years she's been through the

                              forests,

She's heard that ever-sweet call,

Far above all pleasures and splendor,

"Look out, daughter, you'll fall."

There's a wonder-land way back in the

                              past

With clusters of memories dear,

There weren't any sorrows 'cept children's

                              kind

In the dear land of Yester-year.

                                              V.C.

My Creed

To live each day as if I knew

'Twould be the last in which to do

The kindly things for those in need,

Or talk to God with whom I plead.

That I may understanding be

And keep my mind both clean and free

From every evil, every guile,

That I may meet life with a smile.

To live each day the best I can

To keep the faith with God and man,

To keep my soul and body clean,

My actions free from all things mean;

To live each day as if for me--

The last before Eternity.

                                     V.C.

First Song; Since I Found You--Just You

My world is filled with love and song

The gray clouds turned to blue,

There's sunshine in my heart today

That beats for you, just you.

Chorus:

Since I found you, just you, dear heart,

My soul's caressed with love's own wine,

The ecstasy's so wondrous sweet,

Since you--just you--dear heart, are mine.

The stars of night are gems of gold,

The glorious dawn's of rose-flushed hue,

 The ecstasy's so wondrous sweet,

Since I found you, dear heart, just you.

The streams of time are filled with joy,

Like gems of morning dew,

That glistens in this heart o' mine

That beats for you, just you.

                                         chorus:

                                       V.C.

Dreamland Out Yonder Sunglints Along the Wayside October 1936

Oh, dreamer, my dear, won't you
          give me your hand
And lead where I'm longing to wander,
Away to the beautiful star-bedecked
          land--
A day in the Dreamland out yonder.

Where fragments of dreams scattered
          wide on the sands
Creep back to my eager spread fingers;
To dwell in the beautiful star-bedecked
          land
Where the Spirit of Hope ever lingers.
                                       V.C.

The Star of Hope The Muse of 1943

There is a star of hope that gleams afar,
Despite the hate, the turmoil, and the strife;
And still there's love and faith deep in our hearts--
The Star of Hope renews the lease on Life.

Despair is so like shadows glimpsing through
The trees whose arms are now so gaunt and bare;
Regardless of the storms men must endure,
The Star of Hope renews Life through a prayer.

While still there's love and faith deep in our hearts,
While still we trust in God who holds our hands;
The Star of Hope renews Life through a prayer;
And lifts us far above the sinking sands.

                                              V.C.



Click on image for full size



Souls Immortal The Muse of 1943

I little dreamed that morn as you went walking
Adown the path to school on your first day;
A little lad with half a fear of something;
A little lad who knew not what to say.

Your little suit of courage decked with grandeur,
And splendor stood beside you, yet alone,
A little lad with half a fear of something,
That Fate could hardly wait to guide you on.

I could not know that Time was a daily calling,
That strangest notes of glory filled the air,
Enveloping in uniforms of Splendor,
Dear you, my little lad, with tousled hair.

I little dreamed that day a cloak of glory
Was wrapping you in folds I could not see--
A country's call--a county's laurels--
No dream--but Immortality.
                                       V.C.

Bleeding Hearts The Poetic Voice of America, 1939

The term 'Bleeding Heart' did not have the same meaning in the early part of the 20th Century that it has today.  It was primarily a term for an emotionally damaged, heart broken person.

Across the broken trail of years,
Strong, stalwart sons march through our tears;
Within the fields where poppies bloom,
For bleeding hearts we must make room;
Sweet joy and peace will be no more
Until the cannons cease to roar.
Until there's peace--brave sons our loss--
A Bleeding Heart grows near each cross.

                                       V.C.

The Saviour of Peace The Poetic Voice of America, 1939

In peaceful beauty and stillness,
In the starlight gold and bright;
The shepherds abode in their fields
And watched their flocks by night.

When an angel came unto them
And said, "Fear not for I bring
Good tidings of joy, for today
Is born the Saviour and King.

"Guided by a star you'll find him
In a manger--no room in the inn;"--
Glory to God in the highest,
Peace and good will to men.
                           V.C.

Why Have War The Poetic Voice of America, 1939

Why should the blood of men be spilled,
Why should fond mothers' eyes be filled
With tears because of war lords' cry,--
Why have war, dear God, oh why?

Why should our youth give up their lives,
Why should our men leave weeping wives?
Why should each bear a brave heart's loss?
A new-made grave--another cross?

Why have war, dear God, oh why?
Please give us peace for which we sigh.--
We pray that soon may come again
Sweet, "Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men."
                                           V.C.

What Did You Do? Sunglints By The Wayside, March 1937

When he asked for bread,
Did you give him a stone?
When he cried for help,
Did you leave him alone?

When he begged for drink,
Did you give him gall?
As he stumbled on,
Did you see him fall?

Did you give him shoes
When his feet were bare?
Did you share your coats
As he waited there?

Did you offer him balm
To a bleeding heart?
When the Master called,
Did you do your part?
                                 V.C.

Same magazine.  Click image for full size.



Ships In The Night 1939 World's Fair Edition of American Voices, page 141

Bubbles in the air, gay rose-colored glasses,

The years rolling on, how swiftly time passes;

Searching each day for gay baubles so bright,

Hoping my ships won't pass in the night,

Unless they are filled with longings and fears,

Or with broken hearts to be mended with tears--

If so, let them pass -- may a faith fill my soul

With joy and sweet peace as the years swiftly roll.

                                                           V.C.

Words 1939 World's Fair Edition of American Voices, page 141

I wounded a heart with a careless word

Like the broken wing of a lilting bird.

I lightened a heart with a word of praise

Like a blooming rose on the bleakest days.

When I wounded a heart my heart broke, too,

When the hurt of another came in view.

When I lightened a heart my heart was gay

Like a blooming rose on the bleakest day.

                                                    V.C.

Faith 1939 World's Fair Edition of American Voices, page 141

If I can take the bitter with the sweet

As I each day life's little problems meet;

If I can keep sweet hope within my breast,

If I, alone, can stand the crucial test

Of keeping courage fine in the face of woe;

If I can love my enemy, my foe,

Then I have kept a faith that's truly fine,

A faith in God whose wisdom's sure, divine.

                                       V.C.

Memories Thanksgiving November 25, 1948

Grandfather Ambros Silas Conway died in 1926.  That was a terrible blow to Aunt Ginnie but she and Grandmother Mary Lee were extremely close and they helped each other through.  Mary died suddenly and unexpectedly in 1945.  This nearly crushed Aunt Ginnie but she was a strong person and recovered.  The following poem is annotated, "Remembering dear Father and Mother".

Mary Lee & Virginia

 Memories come crowding

          around me

O'er the arms and the back

          of my chair.

They fill every nook

          and corner,

They seem to be every-

          where.

On a far country road

          I can see him,

My dad with a present

          so rare--

It was neither diamonds

          nor rubies,



Mary Lee Cottrell Conway

 But a dark red rocking

          chair.

To her, 'twas a happy

          Thanksgiving,

On her face was a

          radiance fair,

In her eyes was a



Silas Conway





           look that was precious--

 A wonderful love lingered

          there.

 In the door of a cottage

          I see her,

My mother with

          happiness glowing.

O, What would I give

          once again

To see such a love

          growing.

Where it did not

          take diamonds or rubies,

Just a plain little

          rocking chair

Gave a radiant,

          happy Thanksgiving

When the light of great love

          lingered there.

                                   V.C.

Jim's Birthday Gift November 23, 1948

Dear Jim,

     May God bless you today, your 18th birthday.  May He cause His face to shine upon you and give you peace.  May He throw His protecting arm around you and keep you from all harm.

                                          Wherever you are

                                          Whatever you do,

                                          May Jehovah's love

                                          Abide with you.

                                                      Aunt Ginnie

James Bennett (Jim) Conway died in the jungles of Viet Nam on the 12th of April, 1966. He gave his life to save his men after they walked into an ambush.  The newspaper got the date wrong.

NASHVILLE BANNER and then the DEMOCRAT UNION in Lawrenceburg May 16, 1966

Capt. James Conway, Son of Local Man, Dies Heroically In Jungles of Vietnam

Capt. Jim Conway, son of Mr. Lee Conway of Lawrenceburg, and Mrs. Elizabeth Conway of Ft. Benning, Ga., has been reported killed in action while commanding a Special Forces unit in Vietnam. Capt. Conway, holder of many decorations and citations, was a career soldier with 15 years to his credit, a master paratrooper, had logged 2000 hours as a bomber pilot, and spoke two foreign languages. He had served his country three years in the rugged terrain of Korea, and been in Vietnam for a year. This story, reprinted from the Nashville Banner, was written by Marshall Morgan, special correspondent.
________________________

On the afternoon of Monday, April 11, 1966 - in the jungle hell of Vietnam - an American-Vietnamese patrol felt its way, cautiously, near the Cambodian border. The reconnaissance group was made up of picked men, 22 of them, all members of the elite "Green Beret" jungle fighters. Every man had been trained for his special task.
The patrol leader that ill-fated day was Capt. James B. Conway, 35 year old native of Franklin - a man who had volunteered for a second combat hitch in the American ordeal in Southeast Asia.

Crossfire
Suddenly the patrol met the deadly crossfire of an ambush. Outnumbered five to one, the gallant handful of Green Beret men fought back, without yielding, for four interminable hours.
A Viet Cong bullet swept from his head Capt. Conway's jaunty beret, miraculously leaving him uninjured.
Fighting by his side was Sgt. Harold T. Palmer, of Norfolk, Va.
"Captain, they've got you zeroed in!" was his warning cry.
Capt. Conway, reloading, found time for a wry grin.
"Your turn, next, sergeant," he said. Then, with a sweeping motion of his left arm, he gestured toward the rear.
"Get out of here - all of you!" he yelled. "I'll cover for you!"

++++

Yesterday, in Franklin, the Captain's younger brother, Carter Conway, was handed a long expected, long dreaded telegram. It was crisp, unemotional, almost impersonal.
"The Secretary of the Army expresses his deep regret that the status of your brother, Capt. James B. Conway, has been changed from missing in action to that of dead...His body has not been recovered."
It was not until May 9, almost a month after the deadly encounter, that Sgt. Palmer found time to write his father.
"Capt. Conway yelled for us to go back, that he would cover for us," penned the combat weary noncom. "Then he got it - through the head. But even as he was falling, dying, he got off a shot from his automatic that finished off a VC attacker."
Sgt. Palmer deliberately disobeyed Capt. Conway's last order to retreat. Instead, with a companion equally insubordinate and gallant, he crawled to the side of his commanding officer, now fatally wounded. They stayed with him until he died; then, still firing, they backed away to temporary safety.

++++

The grim details, even now are scanty.
A rescue group secured the area the next day only to find Capt. Conway's body missing. There were signs that it had been dragged through the elephant grass.
Wrote Sgt. Palmer to the 26 year old brother of his commanding officer:
"Capt. Conway is a hero, and saved my life. He will be highly decorated for his action this day. I've never been much at words, but Capt. Conway was the finest man I have ever served under."

++++

Capt. Conway was never much at words, either; but once he said to his brother, Carter: "if anything happens to me in Vietnam this time, never mind any heroic tombstone. Just have engraved on it my name, the date of my birth and death - and one word. I want that word to be this: 'Soldier'."
And so, in Franklin's Mount Hope Cemetery, though no body will be interred, soon there will be a simple marker. It will read:
"Capt. James Bennett Conway. Born November 23, 1930. Died April 11, 1966. Soldier."
________________________________________________
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
________________________________________________________________

Distinguished Service Cross

Awarded posthumously for actions during the Vietnam War

The President of the United States of America, authorized by Act of Congress, July 9, 1918 (amended by act of July 25, 1963), takes pride in presenting the Distinguished Service Cross (Posthumously) to Captain (Infantry) James Bennett Conway, United States Army, for extraordinary heroism in connection with military operations involving conflict with an armed hostile force in the Republic of Vietnam, while serving with 5th Special Forces Group (Airborne), 1st Special Forces. On 12 April 1966, Captain Conway was serving as the Senior Special Forces Advisor to a reconnaissance patrol operating in the Ia Drang Valley in the Republic of Vietnam. As the patrol screened their assigned area, they came under hostile automatic weapons fire which wounded several and halted their progress. After insuring the safety of the wounded, Captain Conway led the friendly forces in an assault which routed the Viet Cong from their positions of concealment. As the friendly forces pursued the hostile contingent, they came upon a well-positioned insurgent force of company size. Despite the hostile force's numerical and positional advantage, Captain Conway led the patrol in successful attacks claiming many insurgent lives. With complete disregard for his own personal safety, Captain Conway courageously engaged a well-fortified insurgent machine gun position at extremely close range with grenades and small arms fire. Throughout this action, he continually exposed himself to murderous fire to insure the success of the assault. When the Viet Cong maneuvered to encircle the hard-pressed patrol, Captain Conway planned and led an evasion route in order to regroup the force and continue the attack. As the hostile machine gun fire increased, Captain Conway again exposed himself to heavy Viet Cong fire and directed effective suppressive fire with effective results. During the final stages of the friendly evasive action, Captain Conway was mortally wounded while engaging friendly troops positioned about him. Captain Conway's extraordinary heroism and supreme sacrifice were in keeping with the highest traditions of the United States Army and reflect great credit upon himself and the military service.

General Orders: Headquarters, U.S. Army, Pacific, General Orders No. 164 (July 19, 1966)
Action Date: 12-Apr-66
Service: Army
Rank: Captain
Regiment: 5th Special Forces Group (Airborne)
Division: 1st Special Forces

Each Day February 7, 1940

In the joyous early morning

When I lift my head to

               pray,

I thank the Lord for

               giving me

Another glorious day.

I ask to be guided wisely

In my weakness I

               may know,

The things that are best for

               me to do,

The way that I should

               go--

That I may seek to do God's will

Nor care for earthly

               fame,

That everything that I

               may do--

May glorify His

               name.  

                                         V.C.