Ye Olden Oakland Days

(Contributed by Oakland Pioneers, No. 71)

At the annual meeting of the Oakland Pioneers held on January 27, 1922. the following original poems by members of the society were read and enthusiastically applauded. Copies were ordered printed for all the members:

The Oakland Pioneers.

As I look around this evening,

    My eyes with moisture fill,

The memories that crowd upon me

    Give my heart a mournful thrill,

As I think of the old-time faces

    That are not here today.

Some are too old and feeble

    and many have passed away.


But as I gaze about me

    There are many I can name

Who still are in the struggle

    And playing the same old game,

I only hope the younger men

     will be as straight and true,

And play the game right on the square,

    As the old boys used to do.


I am sure you all remember

    What a village this used to be.

When our business blocks were shanties,

    On each corner a big oak tree;

When Broadway was a pasture,

    And the streets with grass were green

When a street car or an auto

    Was only an idle dream.


And away back in the sixties,

    When war was in the land,

It didn't take a minute

    For the boys to take a hand;

And when the bugle sounded,

    Giving warning for the grey,

They shouldered the old musket

    And proudly marched away.


So the boys were true and loyal,

    And worked with all their might

To help the old town on its way

    And started it off all right.

How we have succeeded

    I do not like to boast,

But now we have the finest town

    On the whole Pacific Coast.


Now the old roll call is dwindling

    And our ranks are growing thin,

But we fought our battles nobly

    And knew that we would win.

But few are left to greet us now,

    And few are left to know

The struggles all the old boys had

    To help our loved town grow.


Now we're here to see the victory,

    To see Oakland take Its stand

Among the greatest cities

    In all this glorious land;

And the boys who blazed the path-way

    That set this old town right,

Are the boys who are assembled

    Right in this hall tonight.


So let us give a toast tonight

    To the boys who've passed away,

And then we'll give another

    To the boys whose looks are gray;

For who can tell whose turn comes next

    To answer to the call,

For God ne'er gave us better men

Than the old boys, after all.

                - Fred A. Campbell.


I remember my home,

    The woodshed just nigh it,

The strap and the groan

    When daddy would ply it.


I remember the knee

    With fright and a crack

And that part of me

    My daddy would whack.


I remember the noise

    As I struggled and cried;

More fun to the boys

    Listening outside.


I remember that strap.

    Blows came like rain.

And I vowed with each rap

    I'd "no'er do it again."


Dad's arm and its clutch.

    The pain and the paddy.

Didn't hurt me as much

    All it did my dear daddy.

            Oh, no!

- Gus A. "Candy" Blank.


Poems, not worth blogging
No. 71
Ye Olden Oakland Days

Poems, not worth blogging No. 71 Ye Olden Oakland Days TO BLOG Sun, Feb 5, 1922 – Page 5 · Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) ·