On January 15th of 2014 in Florida, I had the pleasure of meeting a young politician named Jeb S. Smith. From a family of farmers going back several generations, he really is the local version of Mr. Smith goes to Washington. America was founded by citizens, and while Mr. Smith is now in the political arena, he is the same man written about in the commercial “God made a farmer.”
The following poem came from his dirt-covered hands.
My Collar’s Blue
By Jeb S. Smith
10-21-05
Revised: 1/15/14
We’ve all seen pictures of those guys,
Whose attire is suits and ties.
To an office, their job does take
A big salary do they make.
This lifestyle I did not choose,
I’m not sorry, my collar’s blue.
God’s creation I do see,
Many sights, and all are free.
Fresh turned soil, crisp clean air,
Plants growing while I stare
This life I love and I did choose,
I’m not sorry, my collar’s blue.
My hands are calloused, scarred, and rough
From hammers, splinters, and other stuff.
My body even sometimes aches,
My mind is sharp – make no mistake.
My fingernails are dirty, too.
Remember now, my collar’s blue.
I do the job of many men.
Chemist, sales, veterinarian,
Welder, mechanic, engineer,
And many a time, just lend an ear.
Driver, banker: to name a few.
After all, my friend, my collar’s blue.
America’s prize I believe we are,
Never crossed my mind to retire
Working this land is what I love,
And pleases my Father up above.
A simple way it is to you.
My friend it’s easy, my collar’s blue.
Now into politics, here we go.
Little about this do I know.
But with help from those of like-mind,
I am confident, we’ll be fine.
And help from the One I truly love,
God’s blessing from above.
Jeb S. Smith represents the best of people entering public service. Those in St. Augustine, Florida, just South of Jacksonville would be lucky to have him.
eric