(Along with a plastic replica of a ship, a neatly typed message was left on a restaurant window shelf which stated the following: “The Carl D. Bradley, built in 1927, 638 foot self-unloading freighter, sank November 18, 1958, 33 men died and no one ever wrote a song)
Mayday, Mayday, was all of her last call
before she fell into her blackened grave.
Thirty-three died and put an end to all
less two men she mercifully let save.
Were they frightened when they were left behind,
or did they pray; or did they scream and swear?
Was a friend nearby when it was their time,
or did they wonder if anyone cared?
A sailor clings to his fickle mistress.
Knowing her well and not at all as she
can be calm or wickedly treacherous.
For he never knows what heart she will be.
To the men of the SS Bradley, let
the world quietly sing you a sonnet.
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