Tulsa Week by
John Bartell
So off they went to Tulsa
land
Clinging to hopes she would look so grand.
They gathered in groups from the East and the West,
From the North and the South all there for a fest.
All coming to see an icon from America’s past
Telling tales and stories and having a blast.
Finned cars from the past drew attention from all
Owners driving them with pride, all having a ball.
One painted red and another one white
Shined up paint and chrome polished bright.
Some were like new and some showed their age
But only one from Tulsa
was to take center stage.
Stories and rumors flashed across all of the press
How would she look and how would she dress.
Would she rise from the earth with a gleam in her eye
While sleeping 50 years, did she stay high and dry.
Did she have a peaceful sleep, free from distress
Or had she been disturbed by water and stress.
The time had come and off came the lid
A frightful sight, into the vault, water and mud had slid.
Some people gasped and some may have cried
Technology from the past had truly been tried.
She was put to bed all covered and sealed
But it is now 50 years later, the plastic to be peeled.
The crane was on sight, a big job was at hand
Lifting her out, how much could she stand.
With pomp and politicians and music and folk
Will she come out in one piece or will she be broke.
They started the crane and up in the air
A worldwide audience applauded and stared.
With an idea of her condition and what had transpired
Photos were flashed and video wired.
On to a trailer and off to the hall
An unveiling of this queen long awaited by all.
So all gathered here in American tradition
Watching and waiting for Tulsa’s
rendition.
So with some pomp, music and a few miscues
Off came Miss Belvedere’s cover without further a due.
A sight was unfolded for all to behold
Some rusted steel, flat tires that all looked like gold.
Water still dripping from inside her belly
Images were captured on camera and telly.
Not the vision of grandeur that we had all wished
TO this icon from the past , a dose of reality had been dished.
Mother nature and time had taken their toll and oh so mean
But beneath all of her rust, her beauty was seen.
One of a kind, not another on earth
Still holding her head high since the moment of birth.
Put her up on display in a place of respect
Do not change a thing and do this direct.
Why try to make her look like something she’s not
When no other car on this planets has what she’s got.
A true one of kind, she cannot be cloned
Hopefully treated with dignity, by whomever she is owned.
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