The Story of Harry Allen Stroup and Stanley Dean Baker

July Nineteen-Seventy

couple hippies caught a ride

From a Montana man, driving

who saw them on the side

Soon after, Stroup departed

leaving the other two men alone

Unknowing was James

that he’d never get home

Picked them both up

without thinking more of it

But then there was a gun

coming from the hippie’s pocket

James fell right to sleep

too much faith in the stranger

Clueless while he was sleeping

he was right next to danger

Late night for the two men

in Yellowstone Park

Surrounded by nothing

just the silencing dark

Baker crawled right over

to where James had slept

Then put two bullets

where his brain was kept

Just killing the innocent

didn’t make him feel full

“Stanley Dean Baker!

The man’s a cannibal!”

Took out James’ heart

ate it right there

Cut off the victim’s fingers

combed through the corpses’ hair

Threw the body on out

to the bottom of the river

Body now heartless

not making Baker even shiver

Baker packed his things

leaving James’ stuff there

Now he’d find Mr. Stroup

the only question was “Where?”

Took the man’s truck

headed out on the road

Holding fingers as souvenirs

in the pocket of his coat

Picked up Stroup soon after

found him on the road again

Telling Stroup what had happened

antsy to spill the details to him

The two drove recklessly

ended up wrecking the truck

On the side of the road again

it was just their luck

Their next ride in California

it wasn’t who they’d hoped for

You see, it was the cops

holding guns behind the car door

Stroup and Baker gave in easy

even pulled out the fingers

The tension in the air grew

the cop’s stare did linger

Baker admitted, even cried out,

“I have a problem. I’m a cannibal!”

The cops holding back smirks

because that was just undeniable

Cops arrested them both

discovering more as they went

Stroup not holding very much

Baker had the mass of the content

A recipe for LSD

a copy of the Satanic Bible

Was it for a club?

Was it maybe tribal?

Neither! Good God!

Each guess was an insult

Baker was a Wyoming member

of a blood drinking cult

So now he is a hippie

and a Satanist as one

Drinking blood in the mountains

“Oh it’s so much fun!”

The two men were cuffed up

drove to the nearest jail

There was no chance for probation

they didn’t discuss any bail

For these two were man eaters

cannibals from our town

But just 15 years in jail

now they’re out walking around

Could be in the house next door

the public doesn’t know

Keep your fingers close to you

and don’t forget your toes

‘Cause their whereabouts are confidential

that was Baker’s last request

But you’d better check your closets

for those hippie Satanists

-Megan Songer

My Future… OUR Future

Bit of a read, but it's worth the time-

Today as I was talking to a friend of mine we merged into a conversation about our futures. When I was questioned about mine I found myself pulling a blank. I’m 16. How am I supposed to know about my future? I hardly even know what I’m doing next weekend. After avoiding replying for nearly an hour and just sitting there thinking about this so called “future” I finally got a grip on what I want my future to consist of, and I can tell you now, it’s nothing like you’d expect. All I hope is that this will make you second guess what you want your future to look like, but more so, I hope it makes you think.

To start out let’s talk a bit about my past and present situation. As a child, my family and I were living check to check it seemed. We had a small house, nearly right next to the train tracks, with little to no yard at all. But as young as I was I remember being happy. We weren’t struggling in my mind and we had a greater appreciation than most for the smallest of things. Things like 1 dollar, free food, and hand-me-downs were like gifts. Some people were born lucky, not having to worry about income, others, like my family, worked for a living. Now I’m 16, and we live in a 2 story house with a 2-car garage, a decent sized deck, a sun room, and an additional shop in our large backyard. My parents worked for every square foot that we live on now, and still do to this day. But is it necessary? Are the extra bedrooms, the miscellaneous furniture, and the countless cars really needed? Now that we are living in middle-class we fight, we argue, and we are selfish. Weird isn’t it? Once people get just one thing that they don’t need people tend to get greedy from there on out. Or is it just me seeing that? All I can say is that my future isn’t likely to look like my past, nor my present.

Have you ever considered how fortunate people are? They have homes, multiple cars, fridges filled with food for weeks, some of which goes old and untouched, and yet they’re unhappy, and even depressed. Then you look at people who are living out of their cars, earning their way day by day, and often putting others before themselves when they could use it most and they seem to be the happiest and most caring. Our ancestors weren’t living in mansions, they didn’t have a supply of cars, and I guarantee they wouldn’t let food go to waste. So, why are we? Why is it that we have endless opportunities? Why do we have people handing out jobs, and yet people don’t want them? Better yet, why are we spoiled, and not happy, while others are struggling, yet sharing? My future is not going to consist of wasted food, it’s not going to consist of the morning starting out deciding which car I want to drive that day, and it’s not going to involve the so called struggles of the spoiled. My future will be an eye opener, and a lifelong vacation.

I want to live day by day. I want to earn what I get from when the sun rises until it sets. I want to live out of my car; traveling. I’m not going to be a material girl, I am going to be the girl you see on the side of the road, listening to music, meditating, wearing clothes she’s made, eating fruit she’s grown or that has been grown, and smiling. I am going to be happy. I want to live the majority of my life using the things made by nature, rather than by man. Why is it if we destroy something created by man it’s called vandalism, yet when we destroy something created by nature it’s progress? We’re adding things onto this earth that weren’t meant to be here, and all the while we question why earth itself seems to be fading.

I want to live a day without war. I want peace, not only between countries but between people. We struggle with conflicts day by day because as people we have learned that yes, we do indeed have a right to our opinion, and we use that to its’ fullest extent, but we never seem to use it in a correct or respective way. We’re fighting wars, but we can’t get along with neighbors, coworkers, and people alike. In my future we will respect people as people, no matter where they’re from, no matter what their beliefs may be, no matter who their ruler is, because a war without reason is no war at all. Why move mountains? It’s not realistic. Move rocks, and with each rock you’re closer to building that mountain. So instead of fighting wars, in my future, we will work day by day to get along with humans like us all around the world, because that’s moving rocks that will build a mountain.

I don’t want to eliminate hate, I want to raise awareness. Not only about the commonly “known” subjects like racism, starvation, suicide, and disorders, but also about those so called small things. Things like animal abuse, the food that goes to waste every day, the things we can grow that have the same nutritional value as the overpriced and processed food people flourish in every day, and even chain reactions between human behaviors. Why is it that we judge people first by their appearance? Sure, it’s the simplest thing to do, but in the end it’s not a person’s looks, but their character that matters most. Many people disregard one another’s character. Imagine the amount of people who would have a different perspective if they saw in the mirror not their faces, but their character. Imagine the amount of self awareness one would have to have if they knew that waking each morning they’d be seeing their character right there in front of them. Awareness… not only of our surrounding situations, but of ourselves.

I want people to be “thinkers”. I want people to hold their tongues, and acknowledge their thoughts. Man was created to think, and yet we often disregard that. In my future we will not only be self aware, but also head smart. There will be fewer books, and more opinions, and along with that, less lecturing and more understanding. I want people, young and old, to broaden their imagination. Have you ever considered a dream board, and the power of attraction? These theories and hundreds alike are based off of inner knowledge. And where does inner knowledge get based? Our brain, thus, brings us back to the thought of being “thinkers”. So why are we waiting every day for the bell to ring to release us from school? Why are we in school? Knowledge comes from experience, so let’s go out and experience things ourselves. You won’t get that sitting in a classroom.

My future will consist of social acceptance. Cliques will be diminished; labels will be a thing of the last era. We as the youth of the time period have the choice to change the future…our future. The future could be anything we wanted. All I want is peace, modesty, acceptance, and thought. This world was built for the hands of man to live, and exist. We will change the future with every rock, working towards building that mountain. I will change my future, along with yours.

-Megan Songer

Buy to Die

Late night wanders to the local station

You wrap your arms around you like a snake.

No one there to hold a conversation,

Shadowed eyes start looking a bit opaque.

Could be compared to your soul I believe.

Absence of life and merely just a limb,

The scars of lover’s passed under your sleeve,

He drove off the bridge on a sudden whim.

Ripped from your grip without a warning sign,

You pull a blank when others ask you, “Why?”.

You have no answers. Nothing will align.

You walk to that station without the guy.

Hand gripped around the bottle of white pills,

Cashier is unaware that his sale kills.

-Megan Songer