Edgar Guest, 1881-1959, was born in Birmingham England and raised in Detroit Michigan where he lived for most of his life. He started working for the Detroit Free Press as a child. So he was a guy with solid working class credentials and deserves the title The People’s Poet. One would expect his poetry to reflect the nitty-gritty of life in a newsroom but instead he is known for his inspirational and uplifting prose.

The two books of his in my possession probably belonged to my paternal great grandparents, Abezer and Harriet Jameson who lived their entire lives near Chicopee Massachusetts. My other great grandparents were Swedish and probably didn’t speak the language that well.

I am loathe to criticize any artist but I can see why a steady stream of Guest might inspire visions of the zombie apocalypse.

However, I did find this interesting snippet from one of his fourteen stanza, all in rhyme pieces:

It reminded me of a famous song by Pete Seeger. Do you suppose Seeger grew up listening to Guest’s radio program, “A Guest in the House,” and got inspired to write a protest song starting with an unanswerable question?