Favorite Books Throughout My Life
4: Jim Bowie: Boy with a Hunting Knife, 1953, by Gertrude Hecker Winders (1897–1987)
I read this book so long ago—
I loved those tales—the Alamo
And all that Davy Crockett stuff.
I really could not get enough.
It was, of course, Walt Disney’s fault—
He opened up to me the vault
That held those Davy Crockett tales—
And Big Mike Fink—and so the scales
Of ignorance fell from me eyes.
And I read on and on (so wise!)
About Jim Bowie and his mates—
Who at the Alamo their fates
Encountered. Though they surely pled
For their brave lives. No use. They’re dead.
But they lived in on boys like me
Who ran around so happy, free,
And acted out the Alamo—
Though we would always win, you know?
With us, the Alamo withstood
Attacks from guys who just weren’t good.
Much later on I read much more
And found out that my brain, so poor,
Had failed to see Jim Bowie’s flaws.
(A slaver!). Broke some humane laws.
But still—excitement in my life!
And I would buy a Bowie knife,
Which still lies in my dresser drawer—
I’m not sure what to use it for!