Few had blue collar moms or dads–

they had not done factory work

or construction.  No, college lads

or gals, and we the same.  Now luck

or providence placed us in school

to learn to be good pastors.  Here

the Profs believed each was a fool

and frightened of the working poor.

The Forman was a martinet,

a dictator.  He yelled and swore

not knowing I might be his Priest

someday.  We had a seminar

each night with union leaders who

would talk of strikes and rights, and share

war stories.  Management would fly

in with charts proving they were fair…

I ripped the sheet and with a yell

one night sent bosses straight to hell.

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL January 7, 2013