For this Treasure Chest Thursday, I am posting a poem  that was in my Grandfather, Larry O’Connell’s, scrapbook. This poem was written about his father, Dennis O’Connell.

Fiddlers Green, 100% Union

from Pulp, Sulphite and Paper Mill Workers Journal, page fifteen (unsure of date)

They tell me Dinny O’Connnell of Thorold is gone;

Well boys I’m not surprised.

I guess he’s gone to join the host,

That live beyond the skies.

He lived his span of years on earth,

A fairly average guy, a fellow,

Who was always square;

He wouldn’t harm a fly.

Like all the old time papermakers

And this mill has seen a few;

They’ve run of the stuff at the Ontario,

And never lacked a crew.

They enjoyed their share of the good times, and

There were times that were not so good;

But they always produced the paper,

As long as we kept them in the wood.

From slow speed up to high speed,

As we know they roll today;

The boys are handling six hundred tons,

With very little hay.

Well, Dinny had his share in this,

Like many, many, more;

We mean those boys who have worked here,

But have passed long before.

There was Charlie Killawee and Chappie;

The Benoits, Frank Hickey, Jack Ryan and

many more.

Good fellows you’ll all remember,

We could name them by the score.

Well they’re all up in the Fiddlers Green,

In a lovely home they say;

And sometimes one comes to visit us at night,

But never wants to stay.

In Fiddlers Green they’re happy,

And are having lots of fun,

And I know there is rejoicing,

Because a new member has just come.

His dues are paid forever

And his card is edged with Gold;

And he’ll never have to worry

About his growing old.
Yes, the old pals are all waiting,

To make the welkin ring;

At Fiddlers Green they’re happy;

Now that Dinny is coming in.

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