Tribute to the Old timers

By Tom Black

    I've had a feeling overwhelming me lately. I'm traveling down a path sometimes trodden, taken by very few. Many have started down this path, some have even fallen by the wayside. I'm walking in footsteps. I'm walking where I know it's safe, where others have gone before. The footsteps are my strength, they support my journey.

     The footsteps were created by great men, who have reached out over generations to guide me in my quest to be strong. Because I am walking the path that they have made, and taking their footsteps, I know the path is the proper one. Their mighty hands point to a light of reason, before the days of the little magic pill.

     Now I have come to an immense crevasse, actually a chasm in time. Before me is a picture of a powerful man. Strong and mighty, he need not want of earthly goals, but he has left for me a guidebook, his final goal, his gift to me. I take the mighty tome in my hands, and spread out its cover. Words of wisdom leap out from its pages, the tension of the stoke of his powerful pen still echoes in every line.

     But I must leave the book now in its resting place. Off to slay another dragon, to lift the beast from its liar or bend its spirit. But I am very safe, for I am walking in footsteps.

Copyright February 2000, Tom Black