The Summer of ’54

Balko OK

Lee set out for Los Angeles on Route 66. Catching a ride was easy and he was always asked the same question. Where ya stationed soldier? Answer: Student leaving school to help family.

At some point Lee got lost. He had been dumped on a highway with no traffic. He would later learn that he was 100 miles north of route 66, still headed in a westerly direction and that he was a few miles south in of Balko, Oklahoma in the middle of the Oklahoma panhandle where only 8 decades ago the land became a dustbowl sending thousands of Okies down the same road he was currently attempting to travel.

After, sitting by the side of the road for several hours being passed up by the only two automobiles headed west, Lee’s boredom got the better of him. He opened his duffel bag, removed a carefully folded, one button roll grey flannel suit, a pair of shiny black, tasseled, Crosby Squares and a black silk shirt and changed clothes. Lee had already devised a plan for his first day in Los Angeles; he would go to the farmers market and find himself a job unloading trucks. Lovie had on field trips to the loading docks in Oklahoma City, shown him how stuff works. As soon as he could save a few bucks he would get himself to Hollywood and start presenting himself as a songwriter, vocalist and actor. Today he was going to rehearse.

After scouting around, the young entertainer in training spotted a crate and dragged into the middle of the highway. Dressed now in his finest, his every hair in place and clean shaven (No, just clean faced. The first whisker was yet to arrive on this 5’ 11” lad of fourteen) and looking for all the world like a star performer, Lee began to sing. After what seemed like hours, Lee noticed that the sun was setting behind him. Having gone through his entire repertoire of original work and beginning to feel the first pangs of loneliness, Lee Broom decided to end his performance for the evening before taking his final bow to his imaginary audience of thousands.

When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high and don’t be afraid of the dawn….Lee went through the lyrics of this inspiring song from Rogers and Hammerstein’s carousel and was beginning the first line of the second stanza when on the horizon…….. Walk on walk on with hope in your heart….

Finally, he thought to himself a car, no two cars, maybe more. I will finish this song… and you’ll never walk alone………They’re getting close and I’m in their way…..nope, I’m going to finish this song…..he continued to the last line as the approaching caravan came to a halt……The passengers disembarked…..You’ll ne,e,ever walk a,aaaalone.

The audience of less than thousands clapped; they shouted Bravo again and again; they shook his hand again and again and again. And, they invited Lee Broom, the Entertainer to ride in the front car with the promoter of this traveling band of musicians on their way from Dallas to Los Angeles for a thirty day gig.



Goodbye to pain. (How it works.) repost Nov 28, 2013

lafayette compound 009

Thanksgiving letter to a friend.

I met pals of mine for dinner last evening and after being seated, I started a “Thanks for the memories” kinda thing. Frank said to me “Lee, you never talk about stuff like this; what gives?” I told him that since the accident I had discovered that I was afraid to drive again and that when I wrote yesterday’s post I found myself reviewing the past and wondering about the future and asked Frank if that stirred anything in his mind and the stories began to fly between Lee and Frank and John and Rob..

We usually meet at 6:00 PM on Wednesday evenings; we eat, we kid each other, we go to a fellowship meeting at seven. Last night we missed most of the meeting. Our gabfest was wonderful.

When bedtime came I skipped the painkillers and muscle relaxants and eased myself into bed. At 2:00 AM I awoke in agony. I couldn’t stop the pain. I called family member Betty who helped me to calm down emotionally and then called John and told him what was happening; he asked if I wanted to go to a hospital. “NOOOO” I screamed, “they’ll stick me in a bed which will be more painful.” And John began to talk.

By 3:30 I was calm and pain free. Later this morning I heard from Steve. I had called him during his family trip to Maui last weekend and interrupted a family event; he and his brother were preparing to kayak out to visit a porpoise family. We had discussed gratitude and the affect that the accident had on the subject.

It was good to hear back from him. We spoke again of friends and family and I told him of my talks with John and Betty. As we parted company we discussed our families and the opportunity to share with others and yes I would look forward to his open house this coming weekend.

I’m using this day to prepare for court and I will join the dozens of family members later this evening who are currently gobbling turkey and enjoying each other’s company. We will visit over tea and leftover pie.

Love, Lee.

Lee Broom

The 1987 Rose Bowl



Coach Larry Marmee standing by a presentation By Lee Broom Gallery to The ASU Sun Devils. Framed in a molding shaped to resemble that of a football and covered with the same cowhide as used to make these balls, the memorabilia contained therein tells a story chronicling the most amazing event that this Arizona team can recall.

“The 1987 Rose Bowl was a college football bowl game played on January 1, 1987 at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, California. It was the 73rd Rose Bowl Game. The Arizona State Sun Devils, champions of the Pacific-10 Conference, defeated the Michigan Wolverines, champions of the Big Ten Conference, 22-15. Arizona State quarterback Jeff Van Raaphorst was named the Rose Bowl Player of the Game.[1] This was the first appearance for Arizona State in the Rose Bowl.”





Gruffage is the groats of the grinless grump

Gruffage to the Grump is as roughage to the rump.

Onlyness is the focus of the first in line.

Loneliness is the focus of the Xerox mind.

Now that that’s settled, turn ’em loose in the gallery, separate the interested from the “Interesting, dahling” and sell ‘em whatever the **** they want.