Hope’s final big audience
THE heavens are joyful: Faces, many forever young, smile; hands, no longer grizzled, clap; voices, silenced by war, cheer.
Everyone in a smartly creased uniform, as if the rumple of battles long forgotten never happened and the life that spilled out of their veins never bled.
Helicopters, though downed, whir again as they lift the performer home.
There are no tears in this wild blue yonder. Any celestial noise heard is the sound of applause -- Bob Hope did not die, he has only gone on to his biggest audience.
Mary Alice Altorfer
Carpinteria
*
I weep as I think we are now Hope-less.
Doris E. Gill
Phelan
*
WHERE there was Hope, there was laughter.
Where there is laughter, there is hope.
Steve Morsa
Thousand Oaks
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