The Posts

(This portion originally written in 1973)

"Mom, Kim says I'm a Post
Now Grandpa Post I never knew
And I'm not, am I?
He died a year after I was born,
My name's Gary Kartchner,"
But Grandma Post I remember well
He said - about to cry!
A religious woman who held none in scorn.

Well, Gary, with you I'll honest be,
It seems not long ago on Euclid
Cause a Post indeed we are.
At her home built up off the street
It's really not such a calamity,
That children, grandchildren and friends
They're genuine folks near and far.
Would gather to visit and eat.

Mr. Webster describes a post just right
I remember the hymns on the piano she played
As a support such as pillar or prop.
And genealogy she seemed to enjoy.
They're that for sure and even more
Her memory seemed especially keen
With most folks they rate at the top.
And flowers were a source of her joy.

Great-grandma Tressie & Grandpa Howard
Now. Gary, it's reunion time '73
Listened to that Mormon tale years ago
And it's my aunts and uncles we'll see.
And came here from Kansas to settle
If you'll listen just a little bit more
Where their family could learn more & grow.
I'll tell you how they appear to me.

San Pedro valley became their home
Uncle John is no longer here on earth.
And friends they made galore.
Death took him several years ago.
Kids sprang forth like several leaks
But he was awfully neat and good natured
Until at last the good Lord said "no more."
And we kids loved to see him so.

Grandpa carried the mail in St. David for years
Aunt Lola also has passed away.
In a wagon, by two gray ponies drawn.
A good and quiet person was she.
Then the Ford came along to torment him;
Who caused her folks no care or fears
With a kick to its fenders, he'd wish it gone.
As to what sort of person she'd be.

Grandpa Howard was a friend to everyone
Uncle Clarence lives up at his ranch on the hill
A kind and gentle, but cussing man.
And, like his Dad, has friends near and far.
Often taken advantage of by friends,
They always know where they stand with him
Paying notes for them until they can.
Honesty always seems to be his quality star.

When the supper table was set and ready
Aunt Alice lives in St. David, you know
For a meal planned for eleven,
And has always gentle and quiet been.
It wasn't unusual at all to find
They say she used to draw landscapes real well
The number had grown by seven.
And her memory is both sharp and keen.

Grandpa was like a magnet to his friends
Aunt Stella has a knack at drawing too
Who gather around with ease,
And is outgoing, friendly and sweet;
And they were delighted when meal time came
Always trying new things, no matter her age
To be invited if they it would please.
Which makes her interesting to meet.

Thanks goodness Grandma was patient and kind
Now Grandma McRae is your tie with the Posts
A lesser woman might yell
And we think she is tops, naturally.
At the things he would do
Forthright, hardworking and especially nice -
To see his friends treated so well.
How could all of us so lucky be?

Uncle Kelvin, or Bum, is really O.K.
Uncle Clarence joined the last roundup in Oct. '78.
What he thinks he says straight outright.

And no doubt there was a reception amid a happy throng.
His humor is priceless to those around
It makes you smile to imagine the scene
And he seldom seems all uptight.

Of Aunt Maud asking, "Whatever took you so long?"

Aunt Mildred lives in Mesa still.
Aunt Alice has challenged the medical minds,
The most serious of the bunch to me.
As poor health stalks her year after year.
They say in looks I take after her--
She still lives in St. David and is now 87,
Don't you think she's pretty as can be?
And her memory continues amazingly clear.

Aunt Nadine lives way up in Zion
Aunt Stella moved to Safford to be with Lucille,
And is hard-working and sincere.
And her hair has slowly changed from red to grey.
Many heartaches she's had throughout her life.
Whenever you see her you feel real good -
Her brothers and sisters all hold her dear.
She makes you feel special in her own loving way.

Uncle Ernest lives and works in Tucson.
I"m sure you remember quite vividly
He's even tempered. good-natured and tall.
The early morning in February 1983,
He makes you always feel at home,
When Grandma McRae took us all by surprise
And you know he'd come at a call.
By passing on completely unexpectedly.

Aunt Frances is the youngest in the family,
Uncle Kelvin has had to miss a rodeo or two,
But the holder-together she seems.
As he has experienced a seige of poor health.
Genealogy is her pride and her joy,
If those who care about him count for much,
Sheets she's gotten together by reams.
He's a man of uncountable wealth.

This is the view from where I stand
Aunt Mildred's had some real heartaches,
As reunions I attend every year.
But for a different reason from most;
Others see different sides, I am sure.
She's had heart by-pass surgery done,
But we all agree they are dear.
But came through as you'd expect of a Post.

So, Gary, today as we head for Tucson
Aunt Nadine suffered quite a long spell,
Let me say in a typical Post way -
Before leaving this earth and its woes.
"Hell, boy, be proud you're a Post.
Her relief from a life filled with sadness
There's not a damn thing better to say."
Is probably sweeter than anyone knows.

Update 1987

Uncle Ernest and Aunt Sine took time a while back
To serve a mission in the midwest.
"And now," said Gary, "I'm happy to say
Despite some bouts with medical problems,
A Post it's truly an honor to be.
He's never settled for less than his best.
Fourteen years have already whizzed by
Since I questioned my Post heredity."

Aunt Frances is as genuine a Post
As you'll find anywhere on earth.
Yes, Gary, reunions in the mountains
Honest, undaunted, unpretentious and caring -
Or here in farmland green
There's no monetary measure of her worth.
Have planted permanent good memories
In your mind, though you're just a teen.

So, Gary, today as we head for Mesa,
Let me say in a typical Post way,
Changes have come to alter the roll
"Hey, boy, be proud you're a Post;
Of those still around for reunions like this.
There's not a darn thing better to say."
New ones have joined the festive times,
While others we surely do miss.

by Dona Lee Kartchner

(daughter of Hazel Post McRae)