Ode To Eman

[WebMistress]

I met Eman and Bew-T at our first Nationals meet,
Their given names were Tom and Arleen Peters to truly speak.
Early upon arrival Tom caused my interest to peak,
By staying up all night, guarding our T’s while we were asleep.

At that time we were the ‘National T-Bucket Association’,
Eman became our first to serve in the ‘Sergeant at Arms’ location.
Setting the standard for those to serve in future rotation,
Serving our club magnificently without ovation.

Thus began my friendship with Tom and Arleen,
Established in nineteen ninety-nine with a futuristic lean.
Then TCC made more fellowship possible at his home in Colleyville,
When Chris began his Bar-B-Q’s, inviting all to attend and eat their fill.

At one of the Bar-B-Q’s Eman and Bew-T brought Maggie their pup plus a small tent,
They camped out overnight on Chris’ lawn at the end of that Saturday event.
Chris has refreshed my memory with an email that was sent,
They attended the first two Bar-B-Q’s at both an overnight was spent.

Chris also mentioned something that, until this day, I never knew,
His wife, Norma, worked for Hershey’s Chocolate, Tom’s favorite bar to chew.
And Norma just happened to have many cases stored at their two acre spot,
Chris didn’t reveal the amount he sent the Peters’ home with, only, “It was a lot!”

Now, a new question has been created for Arleen, when we next talk,
I’m guessing she will answer truthfully without a balk.
It concerns the dispensing of all those chocolate bars,
I’m sure Bew-T doled out the sweets, but was Eman at liberty or shifted to park?

The answer to that question has definitely left me wondering,
If Bew-T left him untethered, there was probably a ‘chocolate plundering’!
If his affection for chocolate was as strong as it was for milk,
The inventory sheet for those chocolate bars probably read ‘TILT’!

My contact with Eman and Bew-T was confined to the Bar-B-Q’s and Nats each year,
I lived in Plano and they in San Antonio, one could not call that near.
At our yearly Nats I would closely watch to see if they would be here,
I was always elated when I saw them appear.

Tom has always been a generous man, almost to a fault,
There’s an old complimentary saying that concerns the man, the earth and salt.
Tom certainly qualified for that ‘statement’ plus a whole lot more,
Which caused me to add many fond memories to my store.

Our Nats at Hannibal bring one of those memories to front,
Through the hotel window my eyes did occasionally hunt,
For Eman and Bew-T whom I knew would soon arrive,
Suddenly they were there and, for my door, Eman did strive.

He had a box tucked up under his right arm,
After his knock I opened the door; he transferred the box to me with charm.
Saying no more than, “See you later, we have to go check in!”
This happened in a few seconds, so a quandary did begin.

When I opened the box I found a small, high torque starter, bathed in chrome,
I figured that Tom wanted my ‘T’ engine to be that starter’s new home.
Since its’ installation the starter has performed flawlessly on its’ own,
My thoughts are of Tom each time I start my ‘T’ for the pups and I to roam.

I tried to give Tom money for that wonderful gift,
Tom never accepted a penny even though I pushed till he was miffed.
I labeled that as ‘Classic Tom’ which was his normal mode,
When he got involved with anything, he always lightened the load.

By two-thousand-three I had moved to Kingsland; the Peters’ were nearer me,
With only ninety miles between our homes, frequent visits came to be.
Tom brough two friends one day to do electrical work with no pay,
Although there was a lot of wire, we pulled it all in one day.

The Kansas City Nats offered a chance for us to travel together,
I’d always figured that traveling with others, versus alone, was much better.
We set a plan for Eman and Bew-T to begin the trip from Kingsland with me,
And, as I wrote in another Ode, we began the trip from under my oak tree.

On our return from the KC Nats Tom was a great help to me,
When he joined me in search of a problem under the back of my ‘T’.
The reason we could get under my ‘T’ was that he supplied the jack,
Along with the electrical connections to get my ‘T’ back on track.

I wish everyone could have witnessed Eman’s demeanor as we upholstered his ‘T’,
On more than one occasion he stepped in to rescue me.
I usually work slowly to prevent miscalculations in my work,
But I always ‘screw up’, and then ‘blow up’ revealing a bona fide jerk.

I would start to mutter, then raise my voice until I was in a frenzy on fire,
Then Tom would speak in his quite, calm voice, admonishing me about my ire.
Talk about a deflating effect? That was how Tom spoke,
It was an ‘A-Number One Lesson’ on how to avoid a stroke.

Tom gave of himself again by helping with reinforcement of my T-bucket body,
The body on my ‘T’ was so flimsy that it bordered on being shoddy.
I wanted to reinforce with steel and fiberglass but, I had never done glass work,
Eman said, “Give me that job, I’m good with fiberglass, I will not shirk!”

Now please understand, this was before Eman’s liver transplant was done,
Doctors scheduled his meds intake and prohibited over exertion in a twenty-four hour run.
Bew-T knew his regimen as well or better than Eman,
She constantly checked by cell phone knowing that he was not here for a sun tan!

She usually called to make sure he was on time with taking the meds he should,
While I monitored for over exertion to stop him; he always said, “No, I’m good!”
Bew-T already knew how tricky Eman could be; that I would soon learn,
I had to watch that tricky guy because I did not want to get ‘burned’.
I wanted to protect Eman and not incur the wrath of Bew-T,
If I had let Eman slip one by, the physical results would be traced to me.

And let us not forget that Eman was a big ‘dog lover’,
A few years back, almost by accident, he picked up another.
There was a little black pup about to be euthanized for no valid reason,
Eman did not like the prospects of that pup not living another season.

I wish everyone could have witnessed Eman’s demeanor as we upholstered his ‘T’,
On more than one occasion he stepped in to rescue me.
I usually work slowly to prevent miscalculations in my work,
But I always ‘screw up’, and then ‘blow up’ revealing a bona fide jerk.

I would start to mutter, then raise my voice until I was in a frenzy on fire,
Then Tom would speak in his quite, calm voice, admonishing me about my ire.
Talk about a deflating effect? That was how Tom spoke,
It was an ‘A-Number One Lesson’ on how to avoid a stroke.

Tom gave of himself again by helping with reinforcement of my T-bucket body,
The body on my ‘T’ was so flimsy that it bordered on being shoddy.
I wanted to reinforce with steel and fiberglass but, I had never done glass work,
Eman said, “Give me that job, I’m good with fiberglass, I will not shirk!”

Now please understand, this was before Eman’s liver transplant was done,
Doctors scheduled his meds intake and prohibited over exertion in a twenty-four hour run.
Bew-T knew his regimen as well or better than Eman,
She constantly checked by cell phone knowing that he was not here for a sun tan!

She usually called to make sure he was on time with taking the meds he should,
While I monitored for over exertion to stop him; he always said, “No, I’m good!”
Bew-T already knew how tricky Eman could be; that I would soon learn,
I had to watch that tricky guy because I did not want to get ‘burned’.
I wanted to protect Eman and not incur the wrath of Bew-T,
If I had let Eman slip one by, the physical results would be traced to me.

And let us not forget that Eman was a big ‘dog lover’,
A few years back, almost by accident, he picked up another.
There was a little black pup about to be euthanized for no valid reason,
Eman did not like the prospects of that pup not living another season.

Eman asked the owner, “Would you sell that dog? I’ll give you a dollar!”
The answer came quickly when the owner said, “Sold!” with a holler.
So, chalk up another great deed to Eman; write it in his ‘good guy’ log,
He named the pup ‘Smudge’ and affectionately referred to her as his ‘dollar dog’!

In the ‘Good Book’ our Lord issues admonishments about the presence of ‘pride’,
Its’ presence is easy to detect because of the impossibility to hide.
I’m embarrassed to admit that it has taken most of my life to stem that tide,
Tom apparently rid himself of pride, early in his ‘life ride’.
He knew how detrimental it was, therefore, he would not let it abide,
I don’t think he could have succumbed to it, even if he tried.

With Eman gone, it would be understated to say, “I feel bad!”
Because he was like the second brother that I never had.
I’ve been more than a ‘bubble off’ since Eman has gone,
I’ll be a long time in returning that bubble to ‘horizontally on’.

So, it is with much sadness that I bid farewell to Eman,
It seems like yesterday when our friendship began.
I’m nominating Tom for Sergeant at Arms in the N.T.B.A. Hearafter’,
Where, some day, we may join him in a ‘Heavenly Chapter’.

Let the celebration of Tom ‘Eman’ Peters begin and grow,
If Tom could be here he would sit on the front row.
For me and many others, his passing has been quite a blow,
Please rejoice in his friendship for he was a special man to know.

If a man can count his friends on the fingers of one hand, he’s rich beyond belief.
If that old saying holds true, Tom had trillions in the bank for his relief.
Eman could not have counted his many friends by the time his life did cease,
I treasure the friendship that I had with Tom; May he rest in peace.

Herman T. Quackenbush Monday, September 1, 2008

Aka: T-Pilot with Pups

Aka: John Eplen