A United Methodist pastor from Emporia
Editor's note — Previously unreleased videos of the Aug. 11 raid on Joan Meyer’s home are available at https://mnks.us/joan/
You might have heard of many a legend
Some in real life and some just pretend
They come wrapped in glory
Because of their story
How many can you name,
These legends of fame?
Zorro, the Lone Ranger,
Surely to you are no stranger
Butch Cassidy, the Sundance Kid
Billy the Kid and what they did.
Well-known heroes, I’m sure you will find
But the Legend of Legends is on my mind.
In house robe and slippers, her walker in hand
She knew it was time to make her stand.
Glaring and staring at the illegal intrusion
She knew in her mind there was no confusion.
“Don’t you touch any of that stuff.”
The tone of her voice said this was no bluff.
“This is my house,” with a slam of defiance.
Letting them know she would not stand in silence.
“You a**hole,” she yelled, while beginning to advance,
Improving her position; she knew it was her chance.
With each step forward they knew they were in trouble
For she was about to burst their bullet-proof bubble.
“Your mother love you? Do you love your mother?”
Questions placed in their mind, forever will hover.
“You’re an a**shole,” again came from her mouth.
“Police Chief. You’re the Chief. Oh, God. Get out of my house.”
Her battle not yet over, she stands toe to toe.
With a flick of her finger dismissing them so.
“You’re trespassing. Stand outside. Stand outside that door. You can still see in this room.”
Like a seasoned mother she banishes them to their bedroom.
“How many computers do you have in the house, ma’am?”
“I’m not going to tell you.” She knew this was a scam.
“Get out of my way, I want to see what they’re doing.”
Though they tried to impede her, she left them stewing.
“You can go on through,” as if giving her permission.
They stepped aside; they knew she was on a mission.
“What are you doing? Those are personal papers.”
Still they took photos of their illegal capers.
The chief and his minions finally retreated
Believing their task had been completed.
Little did they know they would be the catalyst
For what would come after their ill-informed tryst.
The illegal search has come to an end
Just beginning are the stories that are sure to be penned.
From this little house in Marion she shared with her son
Her voice has gone out like the sound of a clarion.
At 98 years old. she planted her ebenezer.
Or was it her walker she kept beneath her?
She stood straight and tall and spoke with authority
Using the power that came with seniority.
In house robe and slippers, her walker in hand,
Across her town and all of the land
She’ll stand as a beacon for freedom of the press
And be remembered by all for nothing less.
If there are any who think they’re too young or too old
To stand up for freedom, to be so bold,
Here is a story that I inspire
This is the Legend of Joan Meyer.