A Sailing Poet by Deane Jones
A Sailing Poet
A long time ago, more years than I like to recall, the late French Ferguson ran a column in The Missoulian, called the Oracle. French had a good thing going there – sometimes 90 per cent of the column was written by contributors, of which he had many regulars. Plenty Belly (H. L. Bichenbach), Klang Klang (Clare Kern), B. K. Monroe and Claude Elder were among the steadies. And the column included poetry. One of the chief contributors in that category was D. O. Merriman, then janitor at the Courthouse.
Who should pop into the office the other day but that same Merriman. Bud is in town from his home in Orland, Calif., on one of the rare visits since he left here in 1941 with America’s entry into World War II. He’s been a seafaring man since then, much of the time as a merchant marine engineer, and is getting ready for his second retirement.
Bud was Courthouse janitor when I covered that run in the early 30s, and when he dropped over there the other day he saw the new annex for the first time, and found not a single soul among the personnel that was there when he left. He did look up Al Jungers, retired assessor, and was trying for Jim Donehoo, retired veteran clerk of court. Actually, there aren’t many of that era still in these parts, or any other parts.
One of Merriman’s more recent poetry bits, written in 1962 while his ship was negotiating the Suez Canal, brings an added flip. It’s called “The Pyramid.” Someone sent a copy to Gamal Nasser, the Egyptian dictator, and as a result, Bud gets a Christmas card from Nasser each year.
During the Depression I ran private boxing classes for a while, at two-bits a head, to supplement my skinny paycheck. About a sixth of my pupils consisted of two of Bud Merriman’s boys, and he tells me they’re still able to handle their dukes pretty good. I’ll take any credit I can get.
The above appeared in Dean Jones’ Missoulian column, Keeping Up With Jones on October 5, 1969.