The Silent Dark A Ballad in Twenty-Six Verses Written September 30, 2004   1 It was Mother who told me this story —      A story she read in no book — Of a trip in the year '67      That she and my father once took           A hundred miles away           Through the silent dark. 2 You see, Vernon and Ann were my parents      And I was their pride and their joy. When the time came to send me to college,      They had to transport their dear boy           A hundred miles away           Through the silent dark. 3 Though our home was in Richwood, Ohio,      The school that I chose was not near. We would drive north and east at the outset      Of each academic new year,           A hundred miles away           Through the silent dark. 4 They would take me to Oberlin College      As leaves started turning each fall. They would leave me at one of the buildings —      The dorm where I lived, Noah Hall —           A hundred miles away           In the silent dark. 5 Then my parents would go back to Richwood,      Go back to the east side of town, To a house that seemed hollow and empty,      A room where they sadly sat down           A hundred miles away           In the silent dark. 6 Now they'd drive up to visit me monthly.      These trips were all planned in advance. But they knew they should not be too nosy:      Their son might be finding romance           A hundred miles away           In the silent dark! 7 Within weeks, down from Oberlin's campus      Came letters and glowing reports. I now worked at the radio station!       I'd started to broadcast the sports           A hundred miles away           In the silent dark. 8 Every Friday night, Oberlin Digest      Came on at eleven o'clock. It began with me reading the newscast,      Then talking awhile with some jock           A hundred miles away           In the silent dark. 9 Though our station tried broadcasting AM,      The transmitters didn't perform:   Micro carrier-current contraptions      That buzzed here and there in a dorm           A hundred miles away           In the silent dark. 10 But our FM had ten watts of power.      The signal went almost two miles! There were dozens of Oberlin students      Who listened, adjusting their dials           A thousand yards away           In the silent dark. 11 Now my parents both knew that I broadcast      At eighty-eight-seven FM, But they couldn't receive me in Richwood;      The waves were too weak to reach them           A hundred miles away           In the silent dark. 12 On one Friday night, Ann must have missed me,      And Vernon perhaps shared her pain. Then their loneliness, long left unspoken,      Became unavoidably plain           A hundred miles away           In the silent dark. 13 "Oh, I wish I could hear our son speaking,"      Sighed Ann, despite having no choice But to wait for the next scheduled visit.       "I wish I could just hear his voice           A hundred miles away           Through the silent dark!" 14 Answered Vernon, "Well, let's drive on up there!      A radio's right in the car. We can pick up his show at eleven.      He won't even know there we are,           A hundred yards away           In the silent dark." 15 She considered for only a second.      The choice was quite easy to make. Up and back, a round trip of five hours?      Why not?  "So which car shall we take           A hundred miles away           Through the silent dark?" 16 The big chrome-laden Olds had the gadgets;      The Chevy, a tank full of fuel. Since the Chevy had gas, it was chosen       To travel that night to my school           A hundred miles away           Through the silent dark. 17 On Route 4 they first set their course northward.      Bucyrus was right on their way; Then they passed the environs of Willard,      Where fields full of celery lay           Not many miles away           In the silent dark. 18 At Monroeville, they turned their course eastward.      Past Norwalk, Route 20 now led Ann and Vernon through Wakeman to Kipton.      Now Oberlin lay just ahead,          Not many miles away           In the silent dark. 19 Before long, they were there, on Lorain Street!      And now they were near Wilder Hall, Where their son soon would open his sportscast      By talking about basketball          A hundred yards away          In the silent dark. 20 And so Ann now turned on the car's radio.      'Twas time for the show to begin. But she couldn't find eighty-eight-seven.      And then the awareness sank in           A hundred yards away           In the silent dark: 21 "This gets nothing but AM!  Just AM!     Our big car, the one with the chrome, Can receive either AM or FM;     But that car is sitting at home,           A hundred miles away           In the silent dark." 22 "So we can't hear our son?" Vernon queried.      "He's in that big building right there. We could pay him an unannounced visit."      Said Ann, "That just wouldn't be fair.           A hundred miles away           Through the silent dark? 23 "No, we owe him his privacy, Vernon.      We have to allow him his space, For our Tom is becoming a person      Up here in this isolate place,           A hundred miles away           In the silent dark." 24 And so Vernon and Ann turned the Chevy      And headed once more to the west And the south, back through Kipton and Wakeman,       Past celery fields and the rest,           A hundred miles away           Through the silent dark. 25 Disappointed, their trip all for nothing,      Back home rode the hushed dad and mom. They had little to say to each other.      They spent their time thinking of Tom,           A hundred miles away           In the silent dark. 26 Now my friend, are you missing your loved ones?      Although you don't know they are here And although they're unable to hear you,      They might be, perhaps, very near —           A hundred yards away           In the silent dark.