“Courage is not finding the strength to go on, it is going on when you have no strength.
- Napoleon Bonaparte
Where the ships lie asleep,
Beneath the waves of the Atlantic,
Voices once silenced,
Have stories to tell.
How the valiant once fought,
Against forces unequalled,
Until drawn down beneath,
The unending swells.
Yet a story that stands,
Of one Richard Ethridge,
Who was born as a slave,
Yet decided to serve.
For he had earned the command,
Of a team of life savers,
Men just like himself,
With unbending nerve.
For on a dark stormy night,
In 1897,
A hurricane would come,
With unequalled force.
Then a distress flare soared high,
Rising over the tempest,
With brave souls in peril,
They came from their doors.
With their their surf boat and gear,
They ran into the tempest,
Wind screaming around them,
With waves far too high.
They fired a cannon,
Shooting rope over the ship,
Then someone on board,
Secured the line.
Hand over hand,
Each rescuer traveled,
Along that long rope,
Through each towering wave.
Hand over hand,
With skin torn and bleeding,
Holding on through the pain,
For each soul to save.
Limbs burning exhausted,
Wounded hands stung by salt,
They went back to the ship,
Praying to God with each breath.
They never did falter,
They never did stop,
They never stopped going,
Till they saved all the rest.
The Guardian of the Graveyard,
That Hatteras Light,
Has stood as a witness,
Over many tragic tale.
Yet against the darkness,
Against the Tempest,
They did not lose faith,
Their hearts prevailed.
by Eric Visconti - Poet
Exploring Beyond the Observable
“Words are the beginning of every journey.”
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