You Can't Keep Him Down On The Farm

Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honour out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.

The sensitivity of the man who read this poem over the air is remembered by Sean in a more personal way. One of his fondest memories is of his parents tucking him into bed at night after his father had returned home from a long trip. There, in the half-light of his bedroom, they would sit on the edge of his bed and tell him words that were precious and timeless. "We want you to know you're a special person," they would say. "You weren't delivered. We selected you. Your friends weren't selected by their parents, Sean, but you were. Just to give you an idea how special you are, we picked you out."

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