Editor's note: This poem is about the recent decision by Mark Reavis to take the ornate wooden doors that once adorned the historic St. Mary Church.
To: Dr. Seuss from the St. Mary’s Reunion Committee:
All the Whos in Butteville treasure our past
We honor our ancestors, and fates that were cast
For those on the hill, it was our neighbors and the mine
And the church was our focal point, a treasure, our shrine.
St. Mary’s Church was for many where faith had its start
It was more than a building, it captured your heart.
A place to worship, where those of faith came together
As with so many Butte treasures, we though it forever.
But soon the neighborhoods died, as mining encroached on their space
And little was left to remember and honor that place
A few mine frames, two tunnels, a bar and our shrine
They all stand with great stature, to remember a time.
And yet, someone whose job was to preserve history’s handiwork
Felt entitled to take the copper doors from our church, such a jerk
Without a bill of sale or a story that can be found true
He threw us all under the bus, and away with them he blew.
In the early morn hours, when no Butte Who had a clue,
The Grinch with his U-Haul drove to the Archives, with a crew
Demanding the treasured doors, he loaded up in a flash
Then heading for parts unknown, drove off with our stash.
So we ask you Dr. Seuss, as you ponder the season
What gain could be his, what could be the reason?
To leave a hole in the hearts of the many of us
Certainly he knows his legacy will always be thus.
To: St. Mary’s Reunion Committee from Sr. Seuss
The Grinch must hate Christmas, the whole Christmas season
Now please don’t ask why, no one quite knows the reason
It could be that his head isn’t screwed on quite right
It could be perhaps that his shoes are too tight.
But I think the most likely reason of all
Maybe that his heart is two sizes too small.
-- Debbie Shea, Butte