By Mary Kennan Herbert
My father dropped my brother and me off at the theater
so we could see Gary Cooper in High Noon.
It was a satisfying movie, and the courage of a lone lawman
appealed to my brother and me. Perhaps to my father too.
He made it possible for us to see that film. He did not
get to see it himself, but provided the stagecoach for us.
Why do I remember this? His green Buick once again
making something possible, to see Cooper in black and white,
and to hear Tex Ritter’s mournful song convincing me
that love cannot be forsaken, it must be forever, it’s the Code
of the West. And dad gave us an extra dollar for popcorn,
and promised to pick us up afterwards. He did. The End.