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Upon the wind swept crossarm
Where the wind blows wild and free
A cowhide belt and a chip of steel
‘Twixt him and eternity.
When thunder pearls o’er the treetops
And lighting gleams on the hills
It’s then his work is awaiting him
And he gets plenty of thrills.
When folks in houses cringe and shake
Before the storm has passed
He handles death at his fingertips
To make the hot wires fast
One slip of the hand and he’s gone
To at least long days of pain
But let him out and sure as sin
He,ll be up a pole again.
There’s times when he holds in his hands
The life of a pal he loves
And prays that he fails not in his trust
By a flaw in his rubber gloves.
For all o’ that he’s a common guy
And very much carefree
And he'll stick to you through everything
Best pal you ever did see.
So sometimes in a thunderstorm
When everything goes black
Just think of the poor guy working hard
To get those hot wires back.
This poem was given to me in 1965 by J. D. Lee Gilliand, a friend and lineman with the Georgia Power Company.
I do not know if he was the Author.
William C. Mabry
Jefferson Electric Membership Co-op
Thomson, Georgia District
Sept. 9, 1962/May 31, 1967
The Heaven bound crew from Jefferson Energy.
O. J. Moore
J. B. Polhill, Jr.
J. B. Polhill, lll
Connell Land November 9, 2001
, 1962/May 31, 1967