Highway

I am 13 in a station
Wagon with my sibs
And parents driving
From San Antonio to
Visit relatives in 1950s
Southern Illinois.
Our Dad takes a route
Through the Ozark Mountains
Which turn out to be rough and
Mountainous where we are.
Driving in late afternoon we
Round a bend then accelerate
To the next bend but slam on the breaks to stop in the highway.
A line of asphalt a foot high has
Buckled in the heat making a
Barrier across our half of the
Divided highway, a road hazard.
We pull off the road and our
Dad takes a red oilcloth tied to
A stick and flags to a stop the
Occasional vehicle approaching
The road hazard unawares.
As the sun sets the danger
Increases due to glare then dark.
And still our Dad flagged over traffic to drive on the narrow
Road shoulder to get by and report
The hazard to police to come.
In the dark our Dad uses a
Hand red flashing flashlight
Until the police finally arrive to
Take over the job and our Dad
Drives on toward our next stop
With relatives near St. Louis.
In the next six decades I think
Of our father’s action and his
Grit as we all urged him to just
Let others take their chances
As we had done and get on
With our own long trip drive.
He did the right thing despite
Our grumpy griping and funk.
Our mother said nothing
Because she knew the man
She had married could not
Just walk away from a
Dangerous road hazard.
They both had good character
Which is an indication of a
Society which respects equality
And an equitable income
Distribution where the middle
Class is dominant and sees
Others as fellow Americans
Not branding them as the rich or
The poor and not our problem.
An America I remember from
The 1950s but which is fading
As the rich get richer and
The poor get poorer.
A nation’s character
Is a reflection of
The society’s economic,
Social and political
Equality rather than
Slogans and fake
Commentators
Pretending to be
Journalists.