Corey's Coming

Corey's coming, no more sad stories coming
My midnight-moonlight-morning-glory's coming aren't you girl?
And like I told you, when she holds you
She enfolds you in her world.

By Harry Chapin (December 7, 1942 -- July 16, 1981)

He is missed.

*

Old John Joseph was a man with two first names. The railroad left him in the station when they took away the trains. John found me practicing a little vandalism on some of his abandoned freight cars. Instead of turning me over to the authorities, he put me to work helping him. It wasn't real work, but allowed us to talk. For you see there was only one train a week and all Old John had was time.

Over the next few months he learned my life story. He never judged me or commented on my digressions. The only negative comment he ever made was when I told him of a very nasty thing I had done.

He said, "That was dumb. Hope you don't do it again."

It made me stop and think. I never committed crimes again.

I guess I'd better tell you a little about myself. I was born in a Midwestern town. I was an only child. After WWII it was very prosperous, but as the years passed the town suffered a drop in prosperity.

My Mom and Dad were in the lower middle class income bracket at the start of the decline. When the factory my Dad worked in closed, so did his employment opportunities. We lived on his separation pay and what little work he could find. One of is part time jobs was the overnight cleaning of a local bar.

I guess that job was his downfall. He started drinking. At first it was just a beer before starting his overnight. It progressed to hanging around in the morning for an "eye opener". Finally he spent all his waking hours in the bar drinking. We soon lost the house, but the bar owner took pity on us and made a small shack by the rail yards part of his pay. My Mother and Dad fought all the time they were together. My Mother wasn't there one day when I returned. I never saw her or heard from her again.

My Dad was useless to me. He was either drunk or sleeping off a drunk. I raised myself. I washed my clothes, cooked our food, and cleaned our house. My Dad contributed nothing except some money for food.

The kids at my school teased me because I was so poor and my mother had run off. I was in school yard fights almost every week defending my honor. All I got for my efforts were detentions progressing to suspensions. My Dad paid no attention to my schooling. When the vice-principle requested meeting with my Dad, he ignored them and I was not allowed to return to school.

Being kicked out of school so often, I did what any teenage boy would do, I hung around the Railroad yards. It was here I met the man who was going to make a change in my life.

Old John got me back in school. He made me promise not to lose my temper and to try and study. I did.

I'm not going to tell you that I graduated at the top of my class and got college scholarships. I actually finished with a C- average for four years. I guess losing all that time affected my learning. I was not much of a social butterfly either. I did not attend any of the dances or my Senior Ball.

I never had a high school sweetheart. I left school at 3:30 and when straight the rail yard. I followed John around the yard like a lost puppy. I replaced my absent mother and drunken father with John.

We would sit in his small two room cabin talking while we sat around the pot belly stove that served him as both furnace and stove. From John I learned about all the fantastic places he had been. How he traveled first around the country and then the world. I hung on his every word and pictured his descriptions. I believed every word he told me. I even retold his stories to my teachers and schoolmates.

He always finished our talks with a story about his Corey, the woman who was the love of his life and his life partner. He would explain that he had to stay in the railroad yards so that she could find him when she returned.

John was the only one I invited to my high school graduation. He was the only one standing and cheering when I walked across the stage. I was very proud to have him there. I introduced him to the vice-principal as the person who told me about those wonders of the world. The vice-principle smiled.

Later that afternoon the vice-principle took me aside and explained, "John Joseph was born here and has never left. And no one named Corey had ever lived in this town."

I chided the old man with the information I had learned. He simply said, "Reality is just another word."

I didn't understand so my feelings were hurt. I stayed away from John for a couple of weeks. I missed John. Finally I got so lonely I walked out to the railroad yard to his cabin. The cabin was dark and John didn't answer when I knocked.

I broke down the door.

The fire was out, the cabin was cold and so was John. Old John Joseph would never again tell his stories again.

At the grave there were only three of us, the preacher, me and the grave digger. We heard the parson's final words for Old John, "We need not grieve for this man because God cares for him now."

They put the cold dirt over him and left me on my own

And when at last I looked up I saw I was not alone

Standing there in silence with a shawl around her face

Stood a beautiful young woman.

I remember what she said, "Is that John Joseph there?"

I nodded my head yes.

That brought a soft smile to her.

She said "It's time he...... he got some rest"

So I said -- "If you're a relative, he had a peaceful end."

She said -- "My name is Corey - you can say I'm just a friend. "

Epilog:

So that's the old man's story, I'm glad you came tonight

A busted down old railroad yard sure makes a lonely sight

You may wonder why a young man would work out here alone

Well the job pays enough to keep some flesh on my bones.

And I confess I get to missing the old man a bit

And there's one other reason I guess I should admit -

Can't you see my Corey's coming, no more sad stories coming

My midnight-moonlight-morning-glory's coming aren't you girl?

And like he told me, when she holds me

She enfolds me in her world.

Author's Note:

There was no way I could improve on the final lyrics of Harry's song. I hope you will forgive me for just reproducing them here.

I first heard this song performed by Harry at a live concert. When he finished, I had a big lump in my throat.

*

As always thanks to my friend Size13shoe for his editing help.