'Twas the night before Thanksgiving -- a half-forgotten year,
All the stewardesses going home were so excited,
Dear Linda -- she was only a mere twenty-two --
Mosleys' daughter -- hair of blonde -- she flew United --
Pointed her Volkswagen -- a beetle of sorts --
Toward Snoqualmie and on to Spokane,
A sense of satisfaction with her budding career
Crossed her mind -- imagine if you can,
Her teenage years had seen "Up with people"
And "Sing out, America," -- would you believe?
No one could have known that she'd never make it,
Or that her family would have cause to grieve,
She had so loved my beautiful, red Thunderbird --
Wished that she would one day come to own
That beauty -- eventually her parents did buy it,
She lived in Seattle -- her new home,
The Thursday Thanksgiving was incredibly somber --
Linda left us -- waved goodbye at the crest
Of that snowy, serene-looking mountain pass --
Found true thanksgiving and endless rest.
by
D. Edgar Murray 02/27/2000.
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