Third Shift in the Coal Mines

My father, Duffy Bebout, was, and is, one of the biggest inspirations of my life. He was a coal miner. He was a poet. He was my biggest cheerleader. I wouldn't be a performer or a writer without his influence. Because he has been so strongly on my mind recently, I would like to dedicate this blog post to him. He always wanted to publish a book of his poetry. He never did. But he published many of his poems individually. I would like to share one of them with you today. It is called "Third Shift in the Coal Mines." It hangs on a wall plaque in many homes in western Kentucky. It was once recorded as a country music song. It is one of my favorite poems that he wrote.

Third Shift in the Coal Mines

From out of the pit of darkness,

From out of the bowels of hell,

We stagger each morning at seven

As men escaping from jail.

Dark, that is like no other,

Silence, as the quiet of a tomb,

Top that is forever crumbling

Falls that can spell your doom.

Rats that steal your supper

Dust you could cut with a knife,

Vigilance, eternal vigilance,

From dangers that take your life.

Eight hours of bending over,

Working under very low top,

The strain of a back that is breaking

Pain that aspirin won't stop.

Eight hours spent working in limbo

Just making it, however we can,

We come out of the mines at seven,

Just the empty shell of a man.

We make a mad rush for the showers,

To wash off some of the grime,

A weight is lifted from our shoulders

We've escaped from hell for a time.

--Duffy Bebout--

I miss my daddy. Every. single. day. But his poetry and my memories insure that he is never really absent in my life.