The home fires

With Remembrance Day this weekend it seemed appropriate to write something about keeping the home fires burning. It occurred to me this translates into today’s world too, and not just for those with loved ones in a war zone. It is important to remember those who fought for our freedom and way of life, but I think we can also use this time to remember that we should all enjoy those liberties every day and not just on special occasions.

Soldiers away from home know how precious the everyday mundane tidbits of life are to our livelihood. Those people who know their time is limited tend to make the most of it and live life to the fullest. The rest of us should take note and think of their example. The phrase “keep the home fires burning” refers to those who were at home, not to those away at war. The power of knowing that families back home were keeping things normal and ready for their return was a great strength for the troops in the field. The same is true for loved ones of someone who is ill – positive energy goes a long way in warming the heart and soul.

When I was little my Gramps had a saying that he liked and one year I wrote it out for him and framed it as a gift. When he passed away years ago I got the frame back and in unpacking last week I pulled it out and saw it with fresh eyes. I have put it in a prominent spot as a reminder and I would like to reprint it here for you:

The Clock of Life is wound but once
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour.
Live, love, toil with a will
But place no faith in Tomorrow
For the clock may then be still.

In researching for this article, I found out that the poem was written by Robert H. Smith. The version my grandfather knew (printed above) was the adapted one that became famous as the note in the pocket of Edward J. O’Hare’s coat when they found him gunned down on November 8, 1939. O’Hare was famous as the lawyer who helped federal prosecutors put Al Capone in jail for tax evasion, but he had a full life, too. He made a fortune representing the fellow who invented the mechanical rabbit for greyhound racing and he knew Charles Lindbergh, even hitching a plane ride with him once. He was involved with Capone for years but then turned on him by approaching the IRS, and he was instrumental in producing many parts of the case against Capone. He was gunned down one week before Al Capone was to be released from prison. Was this a note he kept as his own reminder, or was it put there by those who stopped the clock for him? Does it really matter?

I hope you will forgive me for being a bit sentimental this week, but with my Dad’s passing and much packing and unpacking of mementos I felt the need to restate some classic old messages. In closing, here is Mr. Smith’s original poem, which does an even nicer job of making the point, I think.

The Clock of Life
by Robert H. Smith, copyright 1932, 1982

The clock of life is wound but once,
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour.

To lose one's wealth is sad indeed,
To lose one's health is more,
To lose one's soul is such a loss
That no man can restore.

The present only is our own,
So live, love, toil with a will,
Place no faith in "Tomorrow,"
For the Clock may then be still.

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.