A Poem For 'Gypsy' Doug Morgan

Doug

Doug was big... wide...
Arms like legs.
Before he came to San Antonio
he worked in a bathtub factory.
He would lift the tubs
from the rack
and load them in the kiln.
When the porcelain was fired
he'd lift them again.
Arms like legs...

He was not that tall
but he was big.
And he had a big heart.
His voice was soft...
His manner was disarming.

Did I tell you he was strong?
He had his weaknesses
but he was strong enough
to overcome them.

He lived for a while
in a shack with a basement
dug by a quarry worker
near Alamo Stadium.

In the 1980s,
he sold mushrooms
to too many people.

In the 1990s,
he almost chopped off his finger
working as a butcher
on St. Mary's Street.
He was that strong.

Did I tell you
he was strong-willed?
He laid down the bottle
when it interfered
with what he wanted to do.

Strong... Gentle... Non-Drinker...
Perfect fit for a doorman
in SA's premiere punk rock club.

Near perfect, I should say...

Ram went down with Taco Land.

Doug, bless his big heart,
held on to life for weeks.

The bullets that would
kill a lesser man right away
gave Doug a slow death.

Ram was a cantankerous character...
ornery owner of Taco Land.
We all loved him.

But Doug was a brother...
I'll miss him forever.

Don Mathis
for 'Gypsy' Doug Morgan