THE SODA FOUNTAIN

PART 4

The soda fountain at home was its own kind of fortress

A base on MAIN STREET, share story and portraits,

Some came to grieve, some came in with their hope

Women at home helped turn saved fats into soap.

One pound of saved fat, bacon grease or meat dripping,

Yields 1.1 pounds; nitroglycerin, for shipping

To make dynamite, gun powder, artillery shells,

Butcher paid four to ten cents per pound for the sell.

Soda fountain helped save, other items were rationed,

Sugar shortage and milk kept the fountain “war fashioned.”

But people glad to come in to talk to a neighbor

Hardly noticed the shortage with everyone’s hard labor.

The giggly girls held their own selling war stamps and bonds.

One was old enough now to join “WAVES” and be gone.

A rumor had circled, we hoped it not true.

Our handsome Soda Jerk in his Marine Dress Blue.

We all heard at the soda fountain Western Union had arrived

To his family, “deep regards,” your son no longer alive,

Was killed in action in the performance of his duty,

And in the service of his country at Iwo Jima on Tuesday.

February 1945, had marked the dark day.

When our handsome Marine had been laid away,

Not to know the hearth and heart of a woman

Only young girl’s giggles to possibly thrill ‘em.

It seems so sad that he’d also not know,

How we’re grateful for his courage to sign up and go.

Loyally now, we’ve placed a framed photograph,

By the chrome spigots where he’d made everyone laugh. 

He was just one person among so many

But few words come to mind and maybe not any.

We must stay in the moment but never forget,

Be kind, with valor, not a life to regret.

The soda fountain held a reverence for community sharing,

To hold a place for the meek, the bold and the daring,

A small tribute perhaps, named “Tommy’s Memorial Sundae,”

A banana split dish, extra ice cream down the runway.

To be continued…

BY: Flo Lawrence