This is a picture of my dad, Clyde McCoy, showing his banjo
to my oldest grandson, Rich, Today is my dad's birthday. He
would have been 99. Beside s the banjo dad played the fiddle,
guitar and mandolin. He loved to play a tune with one of the
instruments and record it and play the same tune with another
and record it again until he had all four instruments on one
tape. He even composed some of the tunes he played. He
played in a senior band up until a few weeks before he died.
He was a farmer at heart and owned my maternal great-great
grandpa's farm until the early sixties. He sold the farm when
my mother became ill and they moved to SCOAL to be near
my family. Here, instead of crops, dad planted flowers. He loved
sweet-peas and grew them each spring. Instead of cows, chickens
and pigs, dad raised registered beagle puppies.
Today's poem honors my dad.
I AM WITH YOU STILL
I am not far away,
If my memory you hold dear,
Hear a fiddle tune
And know I am near.
When someone plucks a banjo,
And you hear a lively tune,
You can imagine me,
Setting across the room.
When you hear a guitar,
Strumming a melody,
If you listen to the tune
You will think of me.
Take a walk at sunrise,
On a lovely summer day
You can see me there,
In the sun's bright ray.
Smell the sweet-pea blossoms,
As they waft upon the air,
Remember how I loved them,
You'll know that I am there.
Cuddly a little puppy,
Hold a chick, hatched that day
You can see me in all living things,
Know I've not gone away.
If you stop to look about you,
And think of the things I held dear,
Know that I'm still with you.
Memories will keep me near.
Freda McCoy Fullerton
May 20, 2011
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