The Night Before... - A Poem by Snowmman
Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving, today is folklore,
Last year is history, like forty before.
So stop what you’re doing, give your brain a long rest,
Hear a tale of great daring, from the Pacific Northwest.
He dressed all in black, with a long skinny tie,
He looked just like anyone, a regular guy.
He asked for a ticket, a twenty in hand,
One way to Seattle, my first name is Dan.
Off to the gate, he would blend with the crowd,
Sit and have a few smokes, back then t’was allowed.
His eyes were quite dark, and filled up with hate,
Northwest just announced, his flight would be late.
It started to gust, began pouring rain,
It would only get worse, for that three-engined plane.
Now chiseled in history, not some dark archive,
Is a skydive of infamy, from Flight 305.
He sat in the back, the very last row,
He gave his instructions, and wouldn’t ya know.
The Stewardess ignored them, this killed the whole plot,
She thought he was flirting, because she was hot.
He stood from his seat, took off his raincoat,
Said to her flatly, you should read that note.
All right sir she said, with an audible hiss,
It said I’ve got a bomb, come sit next to me miss.
He showed her his package, thoughts raced through her head,
What are all those things, and why are they red?
He said I’m in charge now, this is my last stand,
Get four parachutes, and two-hundred grand.
She went to the galley, the note she would show,
To another Attendant, named Tina Mucklow.
She was blonde and soft spoken, and now a subplot,
Cuz Tina is gorgeous, I mean smokin’ hot.
She talked to the stranger, he said what to do,
Now go to the front, and tell all the crew.
Tina went to the cockpit, to see Captain Scott,
I hope that I’ve mentioned, she’s scorchingly hot.
Now land in Seattle, and pick up the chutes,
Tina will get them, in her Go-Go boots.
Then outside again, to pick up the money,
This also was done, by 305’s honey.
She brought him a drink, and lit up his smokes,
He sipped at the bourbon, and took a few tokes.
Now Tina was stuck, in the worst of nightmares,
When he said, OK miss now open those stairs.
She did as instructed - and did it just right,
For the pilots could see, the small flashing light.
They stared at each other, not one word was spoken,
That light said it all, the aft stairs were open.
Now Cooper just jumped, into the cold air,
The first to have used, those little-known stairs.
Some blame it on Nam, or President Nixon,
The answer’s much closer, with 305’s vixen.
She turned down his money, when he offered her some,
Would soon join a convent, and be a hot nun.
What can be learned, from this history and lore?
Even with two-hundred grand, some guys still…just can’t score.
Editor's Note: Snowmman wrote this poem as part of the 2011 Symposium's Poetry Contest. I had the pleasure of reading it to the assembled in Portland's Hilton Hotel. I thought it might be timely as Snow says that he doesn't remember writing it!
