The Story of the "The Ribbon"

In January of 2002, as I was driving home from work, east on Columbia Parkway, I saw a towboat heading for the bridges which link Ohio and Kentucky. At that moment, for some unknown reason, memories flooded into my head of the life we had led on the Ohio River and the many times I had come down that stretch toward the bridges. By the time I pulled into my driveway, less than a half an hour later, the muse had whispered a new song into my soul.

I wrote a small booklet also called "The Ribbon" with memories and journal entries of my life on the Ohio. I will post it through this blog over the next two weeks as I "rest" my knee.

I hope you enjoy my story and my song.

The Ribbon

Driving home at sunset heading east along the river
As the sky is turning pink and grey
Through the silhouette of darkened trees I spy a lady,
Riding on the ribbon, southbound on her way
She’s loaded full and loaded deep with coal she must deliver
Her diesel engines turning night and day
With Mehldahl Lock behind her and the bridges fast approaching
She’ll make the Port of Cincinnati before the end of day
My mind begins to wander back to when I rode the Ribbon,
Back as far as thoughts can really go
My mom was in the galley and my dad was in the wheelhouse
The boys would rally ‘round to check the engine and the tow

The world is slow & peaceful when you’re riding on the Ribbon,
Under summer sun or under winter snow
When school was out I’d get to ride the beautiful Ohio
I’d even get the hold the wheel when Dad would go below
Folks are more like family when they're living on the Ribbon
You’re always greeting someone that you know
The trips were long for some
But you would always bridge the distance
Trading news and stories all across the radio
My mind begins to wander back to when I rode the Ribbon,
Back as far as thoughts can really go
My mom was in the galley and my dad was in the wheelhouse
The boys would rally ‘round to check the engine and the tow

It’s hard to tell a stranger ‘bout the colors of the Ribbon
Emerald green at noontime, sparkling diamonds great the night
Then it winds like velvet through the quiet, blackened hillsides
Turning pink to red to gold in early morning light
I stop the car and wander out so I can watch the lady
Riding down the Ribbon as the sky is turning grey
She’ll tiptoe through the bridges of the Port of Cincinnati
And make the Port of Louisville before the break of day


Copyright - Prudence Hunt (January 2002)