Walt Whitman Hollon, 90, salesman, family poet

It wasn’t because of his name, but Walt Whitman Hollon enjoyed writing poetry.

He often kept a pad and pencil nearby for doodling. He’d dash off verse on special occasions — for Betty, his wife, on Valentine’s Day. When his son, Terry, turned 21. And when his daughter, Janet, turned 16.

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Walt Hollon liked to write poems for his wife on Valentine’s Day, and for his two children when they hit certain ages.

“The poem for our son had 21 verses, mind you,” said Mrs. Hollon, his wife of 61 years. “And of course for the children he’d interject a little lesson, something about life that you should or shouldn’t do. Give a little advice along the way. We made a little booklet out of the things he’s written over the years.”

Walt Whitman Hollon, 90, of Lawrenceville died Sunday of colon cancer at his home. The funeral will be 2 p.m. Wednesday at Wages & Son, Gwinnett Chapel, which is in charge of arrangements.

Mr. Hollon interrupted his sophomore year at Cumberland College in Williamsburg, Ky., (now called University of the Cumberlands) to volunteer for the Army. During World War II, he served in the Asiatic and European theaters, including B-24 missions over Italy, Germany, Austria, Hungary and Yugoslavia. After a six-year military stint, Mr. Hollon returned to Cumberland, where he met his future wife.

Early in the courtship, he dazzled her with a poem.

“I said, ‘Did you write this?’ ” Mrs. Hollon said. “He said, ‘I wrote every word. Just for you.’ I asked him if his name had anything to do with his love for poems. He said no, that he just had a knack for writing things.”

For his son, Terry Hollon of Spartanburg, S.C., receiving poems as a youngster written by his father was special, just not fully appreciated.

“It was touching,” he said, “but it took on more meaning as I grew older. Writing was fun for him.”

In 1983, Mr. Hollon wrote a poem for his grandson, Brad Hollon. Here are a few lines:

Ah, you little rascal,

Mr. Hollon was a 1949 University of Kentucky grad. In 1956, General Motors transferred him to Atlanta from Louisville to work as an insurance adjuster. He later worked in sales as a manufacturers’ representative assigned to the Southeast.

“He sold a little bit of everything,” his wife said. “We made a good living on it.”

Besides writing, Mr. Hollon had cheery sayings that he often repeated. One favorite: “It’s a lovely day. Every day is a lovely day, but some are lovelier than others.”

Additional survivors include a daughter, Janet Hollon of Houston; and a grandson.