My friend Ken MacSwan died August 27, 2018, at age 75. Ken and I worked together at Ameren Corporation for more than 12 years. He was a Scotsman, a Vietnam veteran, a musician, an illustrator, a puppeteer, a ventriloquist, and, at Ameren, a company photographer. In the days before everyone had a phone with a camera, I traveled with him around Illinois and Missouri documenting power plant projects, charitable gifts, employee safety records, and more. He took all of the pictures of me on my website, in exchange for lunches at Steak n’ Shake. I wrote this for him on the occasion of his 20th anniversary with Ameren in 2004.
He started out at half-past dawn
Started out did he
For strange and far-away locales
In Ameren’s service territor-ee
The car was packed, the gear was stowed
On the fateful day
When Ken MacSwan, Photographer
Began to make his way
He stopped but once at Mickey D’s
For coffee and a snack
Then packed it up and left again–
There would be no turning back
No turning back, no sir, not he
For the schedule all was set
All was arranged, all procured
Not a stop did he forget
First there was a little office
Somewhere near Quincy, Illinois
Someone had got a SmartLights grant–
A great big check–Oh Boy!
But his contact said that Bill was sick
And Mary, she had quit
Tommy was off, Jane moved away,
Rick had it handed to him on a spit
So it was only he and Steve Bradshaw
Holding forth along the plain
Holding on to that big check–
And then, it started to rain
Great big drops fell down in heaves
Upon the windshield clear
And Ken MacSwan, Photographer
Considered stopping for a beer
But no, not he, not he today!
For it was on toward Meredosia
Where a crew had been put on hold
To celebrate satisfying OSHA
He pulled up where he was supposed to be
Somewhere between here and there
Pulled up, did he, and quickly found
That there was no one, anywhere
“Yes,” his contact said, “‘Tis true
Yes, it’s sad to tell
We had a storm in Effingham
And the day has gone to hell!”
So back to the road went he
Headed for the Coffeen Plant
Where many dollars had been spent
For Ameren’s power to supplant
He took the elevator up
To elevation six-eleven
Scaled ladders, catwalks, passageways
Until he thought he was near Heaven
Then inside the boilerwent he
Where the tubes stood bright and gleaming
Freshly welded all were they
For to keep the steam a’steaming
Back down he went to the floor below
Where the crews were just departing
He looked down upon the just-closed turbine
Now ready for the starting
“What gives?” said he, to the manager
Who stood there happily smiling
“Where are the crews, the sweat, the toil–
the guy who Tim’s profiling?”
“Aye, ’tis true, my friend,”
the manager said
“‘Tis true, there is no lie
‘Twas a marvelous thing that these men did,
It’s on them I can rely
“They got the job done early,
Yes, and all that I’ve got to say
Is it really would have been better for you
If you’d been here yesterday.”
So back into the car went he,
Headed back to old St. Lou
With a camera full of nothing
And ice-cold water in his shoe
Back came he, the Photographer,
Across the misty plain
Back came he, that Ken MacSwan–
To do it all a-gain.