Buck Helm was one of those trapped on the bridge that collapsed along Interstate 880 during the October 21, 1989 earthquake. He died shortly after a dramatic rescue. The poem is a tribute to him and the others caught up in the San Francisco earthquake.
The Ballad of Buck Helm
San Francisco is so sublime
Though it lies along the fault line
And someday it is said that it will fall into the sea
But the buildings keep going up
While the scientist continues to conjecture
Tell people you have to be vigilant
The earthquake is a threat.
And society can only make a face
When the ground starts to shake and makes them in
But there was one who beat the odds
And stayed alive to fool the gods
Either the devil or who waits for a soul
We were one day not long ago
The scientist said I told you so
As the earth began to shake and break in
The bay bridge trembled and collapsed
The Golden Gate somehow stood its ground
But highway 880 was cursed with woe
Buck had spent a ride on BART
Because the series was about to start
And headed south on highway 880 at five
At five in the morning the bridge fell
It must have made a horrible sound.
With concrete slabs and pillars flying back and forth
The journalist Dan entered at the beginning.
Craving points a powerful thirst
And I told the nation that 1989 is the
The walls had collapsed like sticks
same as nineteen hundred and six
Leaving thousands with no home or place to go
The firefighters ran for their trucks.
Congress rushed to get some money
It would take ten billion dollars to make amends
But first there are lives to be found and saved
Buck was out there somewhere brave
And no one knew his whereabouts and work was slow
Now in a New York City apartment
Buck’s ex-wife, though long gone
Listen to the news and hurry to save what you have left
Maybe the insurance was the reason
Call it love or what’s in season
Place your bet and stack the chips, it’s just dough
Now where did you eat your buttered pancakes
His friends just watched and muttered
If there is one to escape from the grave it is our friend Buck
Families wept and stayed close.
The shepherds prayed and wondered why
But the life expectancy among the concrete piers was low.
As the hours turned wet and dreamy
A lonely but tired volunteer
I stayed to find a space so far back in the ruins
At first he saw a head sticking out
Then at last a hand extruding
Lucky Bucky, as his friends called him, was in storage.
Back at work his friends were downstairs
So the news has a happy ring to it.
Buck had asked the man upstairs to skip his turn.
The pier began to cry.
Could have been a million years
When four days later he went out to put on his show
Lucky Bucky is slowly waving
To the crowd that gathered only
Just to see the man who made the headlines
And his ex-wife is in town now
she’s so easy to find
With her tears and ears and fears
She’s all a blaze
Now the story has an end.
Buck is slowly repairing himself
And the radios are playing your song
Here’s a hitherto unknown man
thought an American and how
He is the hero of the people who need him so much
San Francisco is so sublime
Though it lies along the fault line
And someday it is said that it will fall into the sea
But the buildings keep going up
While the scientist continues to conjecture
Tell people you have to be vigilant