Let’s remember the stowaway poet George Parrott, who arrived in Seattle on this day in 1910 (June 3)
This is the type of wild story that I love coming across.
On June 3, 1910, the steamship Minnesota docks in Seattle, carrying stowaway George Parrott, who speaks only in verse. Instead of being clapped in irons and handed over to the authorities, Parrott has so charmed the crew and passengers during the ocean voyage from Japan that he now has enough money to travel to New York with the promise of a good position when he arrives there.
But wait, there’s more!
George Parrott was originally from Des Moines, Iowa, and before becoming a stowaway was a world-wanderer and a sailor aboard a windjammer. The Seattle Post-Intelligencer described him as long, lanky, with raven black locks and a vacuous expression about his eyes, and noted that he “certainly looks the part of a poet.”
A water tender found Parrott hiding in the paint room of the Minnesota when the vessel was one day out from Yokohama. Parrott immediately appealed to his discoverer in free verse, which amused the water tender enough to take him to the galley for some food. While dining, a ship’s officer entered and although Parrott pleaded once again in a rapid fire of limericks, the officer threw him in the brig.
Parrott was locked up for less than an hour before he managed to get a hold of pencil and paper to craft an appeal to the ship’s skipper, Captain Garlic. It read as follows:
Though the day of my destiny’s over
And the star of my fate has declined,
I still have a chance to recover
If you, sir, will only prove kindWhen winds are at war with the ocean
And the turbulent waves toss the sea
’Tis naught, sir, beside the emotion
That’s raging and tearing in me.Be generous, do not restrain me,
Be merciful, grant me respite,
And if you’re determined to jail me,
Just get me a drink and a bite.
Read the whole thing here:
