We have rented the property that houses our family business for the past 16 years from a man named Glen Tyler Sr. Today I learned that our sweet landlord had passed away yesterday, at the age of 87 years. He was a WWII Veteran of the Navy, did 3 tours in the South Pacific and trained soldiers for the Korean War. He loved the heat of the South Pacific, and told me often that he would have stayed there forever if he could have. He started, operated and built his successful refuse company in Des Moines for more than 40 years. He grew his family in West Des Moines and in Chariton, Iowa. He lived a life full to the brim with every experience he had and everything he did. His own voice told me of how much a rotten son-of-a-bitch he was before he changed his ways. He chewed my ass out on occasion, but never when I didn't need it. He always spoke of the Lord, and how he became a Christian. He had a certain insight into the workings of the world that is seldom seen these days. He worked his whole life and lived with a vigor, heartiness and exuberant smile, I can only dream of standing in the shadow of. He was fair and honest with every dealing he had with us, and only raised our rent once. We could not have asked for a better landlord and friend. We are going to miss his random visits to the office, and even the visits on the 5th of the month to collect the rent. Tomorrow he will be put to rest with the honor of a full military funeral. Sir, you were well loved and will be sorely missed.
This is a very special song written by Ben Nichols about his Grandfather. This song is loved by many folks who have lost their Grandpas who also served this country in World War II. Something about Lucero brings me joy and soothes my soul in hard times. I know this band has the same efect on many people. This is a fitting tribute to the Greatest Generation.
Lucero - The War - from the album 'Nobody's Darlings'
I got drafted at 19
Me and a bunch of boys from home
January ’43, drove out to Pine Bluff and signed on
Went to basic south of Birmingham
Put me on west coast bound train
Spent three days out in San Diego
And they shipped me back east again
Left a port out of New York
Slept for months in British rain
Tore it up down in London town
And they shipped me back out again
The preacher said “Boys he who is killed tonight will dine with the Lord in Paradise”
One boy spoke up, said “preacher come on, eat your supper with us
Never talk about those first days
Lots of friends left behind
But I made it all the way across France
And I fought at the Maginot line
Road a tank into Belgium
Like them better than the French
Like my daddy, thirty years before
I did my time in a trench
Lots of days there’s no water
But the liquor kept me warm
The cellars were stocked to the ceiling with booze
So I carried a bottle with my gun
The preacher said “Boys he who is killed tonight will dine with the Lord in Paradise”
One boy spoke up, said “preacher come on, eat your supper with us”
Three times I made sergeant
I’m not that kind of man
And pretty much just as quick as I could
I get busted back to private again
Cause taken’ orders never suited me
Giving them out was much worse
I could not stand to get my friends killed
So I took care of myself first
Now I know that don’t sound right
Don’t think too bad of me
Now it keeps me up nights
What I could have done differently
The preacher said “Boys he who is killed tonight will dine with the Lord in Paradise.”
One boy spoke up, said “preacher come on, eat your supper with us”
I’d be no guest at the table of the Lord
His food was not to be mine
‘Cause I cursed His name every chance that I could
And I recon that’s why I’m still alive
