I remember when there was a time
When I thought a curse plagued Alexandria High.
One day before my eight-grade year,
A childhood friend drowned in the White River.
Double tragedy, that year did possess,
A boy in high school died in automobile distress.
A couple days before the start of my Sophomore year,
A varsity football player was the cause of many a tear.
Involved in a wreck just nigh the home coming game,
He predicted his death in poetry and asked if we’d remember his name.
Every year, one student would somehow die.
It became a part of life at Alexandria High.
A small town with no more than 300 in high school
Midst the corn fields and where God and basketball dueled.
Seems something was always happening in our town.
Population 6,000 steadily counting down.
After graduation by only three months of time
Another boy my age stepped in Saint Peter’s line.
Another automobile wreck and underage drinking.
Drowned in an inch of water… not enough for sinking.
One other boy I knew in school passed with a heart attack.
Shocking to me, he was 26, and health he didn’t lack.
Great illnesses and fates galore the gods have handed down.
Floods and fires and other disasters, in this small Midwestern town.