By Staff
To the editor:
The enclosed poem was written in 1942 as Atmore was beginning to grow as a community. I thought the poem might bring fond memories to the folks who lived in Atmore during that period, if The Advance chooses to publish it.
The author's name is unknown to me.
I enjoy living in Leesburg, Fla., among my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. But I do miss Atmore.
The town of Atmore, population 3,350, has grown up overnight. From an expanse of pines in 1900 to a rapidly growing city in 1942 – this is her story. The following poem pictures the story and predicts her destiny:
Oh! Atmore, she's a comin', and a comin' in a rush;
You can hear the sound of hammer and the painter's
swishing brush,
The merry song of workers as they hustle up the brick;
The busy foreman's orders, and the trowel's twangling click,
The music of the rip saw, and the saw dust flying high
And the stacks and stacks of lumber, reaching halfway to the sky,
Interspersed with brick and mortar, til it all seem in a crush;
Oh! I tell you Atmore's comin', and she's comin' in a rush.
Yes sir! Atmore, she's a comin' and she's comin' in a rush;
And the truth of this assertion makes our neighbor cities blush;
If you think the statement flighty and don't believe it's true,
Just come to town – we'll "show you" – so, Bud, it's up to you,
The teamster's merry whislte as he pulls across the grade,
Mingles with the clanking dollars in the busy marts of trade.
All day long the clanking's going til the night bring on the hush,
Yes sir! Atmore, she's a comin', and she's comin' in a rush.
Nathan Gross
4646 Inverness Drive
Leesburg FL 34748