For this Treasure Chest Thursday, I am posting a poem that was in my Grandfather, Larry O’Connell’s, scrapbook. This poem was written about his father, Dennis O’Connell.
Fiddlers Green, 100% Union
from Pulp, Sulphite and Paper Mill Workers Journal, page fifteen (unsure of date)
They tell me Dinny O’Connnell of Thorold is gone;
Well boys I’m not surprised.
I guess he’s gone to join the host,
That live beyond the skies.
He lived his span of years on earth,
A fairly average guy, a fellow,
Who was always square;
He wouldn’t harm a fly.
Like all the old time papermakers
And this mill has seen a few;
They’ve run of the stuff at the Ontario,
And never lacked a crew.
They enjoyed their share of the good times, and
There were times that were not so good;
But they always produced the paper,
As long as we kept them in the wood.
From slow speed up to high speed,
As we know they roll today;
The boys are handling six hundred tons,
With very little hay.
Well, Dinny had his share in this,
Like many, many, more;
We mean those boys who have worked here,
But have passed long before.
There was Charlie Killawee and Chappie;
The Benoits, Frank Hickey, Jack Ryan and
Good fellows you’ll all remember,
We could name them by the score.
Well they’re all up in the Fiddlers Green,
In a lovely home they say;
And sometimes one comes to visit us at night,
But never wants to stay.
In Fiddlers Green they’re happy,
And are having lots of fun,
And I know there is rejoicing,
Because a new member has just come.
His dues are paid forever
And his card is edged with Gold;
And he’ll never have to worry
About his growing old.
Yes, the old pals are all waiting,
To make the welkin ring;
At Fiddlers Green they’re happy;
Now that Dinny is coming in.