In loving memoryal Ke

How To Increase Bookings As A Paid Professional Public Speaker and Enter The World of Paid Speaking

Join an on-line discussion group for
professional speakers

Be Booked By Speakers Bureaus and Lecture Agents

How To Be A Speakers Bureaus and Lecture Agents Favorite Speaker

2008 International Almanac of Speakers Bureaus and Lecture Agents

Article - Ways To Contact Speakers Bureaus and Lecture Agents

Marketing Tools To Increase Booking for Paid Speaking Engagements

2002 - 2003 Speaking Industry Report: Surveys of Meeting Planners, Top Paid Speakers and Speakers Bureaus

List of resources for Professional and Public Speakers to Increase Bookings

How To Get Paid To Be A Public Speaker

What to do in your first two years as a professional paid public speaker

Speak and Grow Rich by Lilly and Dottie Walters

Personal coaching from Lilly Walters to advance your speaking career


How Much Are Professional Speakers Paid?

Benefits of Speaking For Free and Public Speaking

Nine Skills of Successful Paid Speakers

How Meeting Planners Choose Paid Professional Public Speakers

How To Create GREAT Demo Tapes and Promotional Products for Keynote and Breakout session speakers

What To Say When You Have Stage Fright - For Paid Professional Speakers and for Public Speakers

What To Say When the Equipment Malfunctions! For Paid Professional Speakers and for Public Speakers

Secrets of Superstar Speaking Skills

Famous Books By Lilly Walters

1,001 Ways to Make More Money As A Speaker, Trainer or Consultant

Speak and Grow Rich, by Lilly and Dottie Walters

Secrets of Superstar Speakers: Inside the Soul of Inspiration

What to Say When You're Dying On the Platform!

Secrets of Successful Speakers

You Can Make Money From Your Hobby: Building A Business Doing What You Love” with Martha Campbell Pullen

The Speaking Industry Reports!

Your First Two Years As A Paid Professional Public Speaker

Others Books by Lilly Walters

One Hand Typing and Keyboarding Manual: With Personal Motivational Messages From Others Who Have Overcome!

Cobblestone Cottages From Junk Jars - Faux Decorative Painting

Fabric Painting Patterns

Contact Lilly Walters

740 Purdue Dr.
Claremont, CA 91711


Robert Emmett Walters, known to many as Cowboy Bob

My father was possibly the worst singer - and the greatest - I have ever known. He loved to sing a song, recite a poem with relish and zest. The last 10 years of his life were spent mainly in a hospital bed, in their TV room. Mom slept on the couch beside him because he needed help many times during the night. But every morning, he would say, "It's a GREAT day to wake up!" Then he'd launch into a song, or a poem.

He was a war hero, a wonderful father, a devoted husband. His life was about making others happy.

Here are a few of his favorite poems and songs.


I asked my father about being a war hero. He just shook his head as if it was nothing and told me, "A few of my men got shot, I just help drag them back to safety."

That was his version. In preparing materials for his Memorial, for the first time I read what the Secretary of the Navy had to say:

" ...After reaching the comparative safety of a defiladed position on the beach by laboriously wading and crawling over five hundred yards of tide-covered coral reef, in the face of heavy enemy machine-gun fire, Sergeant Walters, with the commanding officer and two other Marines, voluntarily retraced his step one hundred and fifty yard on the dangerous reef to rescue two wounded men."

That was at the battle of Tarawa, where we lost 70% of those trying to take that Island from the Japanese. They were already exhausted, and bloody from crawling to safety on that coral reef, but they went back to save those men.

Ode To A Marine ...

(also know as St. Peter's Poem)


You can have your Army khaki,
You can have your Navy blue,
But there is still another fighter,
I will introduce to you.

His uniform is different,
the finest ever seen.
The Hun's called him Devil dog,
But his real name's Marine.

He trained at San Diego
The land that God forgot.
Where the sand is 14 inches deep.
And the sun is scorching hot.

He has set many a table,
And many a dish he dried.
He also learned to make a bed,
And a broom, he sure can guide!

He has peeled a million onions,
And twice as many spuds.
He also spends his leisure time
In washing out his duds.

Now girls, take a little tip,
I'm handing it to you.
Just grab yourself a good Marine,
For there's nothing he can't do!

And when he gets to heaven,
To St. Peter he will tell
"Another Marine reporting Sir,
I've served my time in hell!"


In 1979, Dad participated in a Fund Raiser for the Kiwanis Club, THE MR. GLENSDORA CONTEST! It was all very tongue and cheek. Dad did the entire thing as a cowboy, not much of a stretch! For the bathing suit contest he came out in his long johns! For talent, he memorized Robert Service's THE SHOOTING OF DAN McGREW. Until the day before he died, the last day he was mostly conscious, he loved to have me read that poem to him. I would start the line, he would finish it! He and I must have done that poem several hundred of times over the past 10 years. It always brought laughter, and distraction from pain. He would do the last few words of each line with zest and gusto!

 The Shooting of Dan McGrew


A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck, was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou.

When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and the glare,
There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty, and loaded for bear.
He looked like a man with a foot in the grave and scarcely the strength of a louse,
Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks for the house.

There was none could place the stranger's face, though we searched ourselves f'or a clue; But we drank his health, and the last to drink was Dangerous Dan McGrew.

There's men that somehow just grip your eyes, and hold them hard like a spell;
And such was he, and he looked to me like a man who had lived in hell;
With a f'ace most hair, and the dreary stare of a dog whose day is done,
As he watered the green stuff in his glass, and the drops fell one by one.

Then I got to figgering who he was, and wondering what he'd do,
And I turned my head-and there watching him was the lady that's known as Lou.

His eyes went rubbering round the room, an he seemed in a kind of daze,
Till at last that old piano fell in the way of his wandering gaze.
The rag-time kid was having a drink; there was no one else on the stool,
So the stranger stumbles across the room, and flops down there like a fool.

In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dilt he sat, and I saw him sway;
Then he clutched the keys with his talon hands-my God! but that man could play.

The music almost died away . . . then it burst like a pent-up flood;
And it seemed to say, "Repay, repay," and my eyes were blind with blood.
The thought came back of an ancient wrong, and it stung like a frozen lash,
And the lust awoke to kill, to kill . . . then the music stopped with a crash,

And the stranger turned, and his eyes they burned in a most peculiar way;
In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway;

Then his lips went in in a kind of grin, and he spoke, and his voice was calm,
And "Boys," says he, "you don't know me, and none of you care a damn;
But I want to state, and my words are straight, and I'll bet my poke they're true,
That one of you is a hound of hell . . . and that one is Dan McGrew."

Then I ducked my head, and the lights went out, and two guns blazed in the dark,
And a woman screamed, and the lights went up, and two men lay stif'f and stark.
Pitched on his head, and pumped filll of Iead, was Dangerous Dall McGIew,
While the man from the creeks lay clutched to the breast of the lady that's known as Lou.

These are the simple facts of the case, and I guess I ought to know.
They say that the stranger was crazed with "hooch," and I'm not denying it's so.
I'm not so wise as the lawyer guys, but strictly between us two-
The woman that kissed him and-pinched his poke-was the lady that's known as Lou.



Happy trails to you, until we meet again.
Happy trails to you, keep smilin' until then.
Who cares about the clouds when we're together?
Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather.
Happy trails to you, 'till we meet again.

Some trails are happy ones,
Others are blue.
It's the way you ride the trail that counts,
Here's a happy one for you.

Happy trails to you, until we meet again.

Cowboy Bob,
May 8, 1921 - January 21, 2003


Prepared by Lilly Walters Schermerhorn

s,Lilly Walters - has for over 20 years THE LEADING RESOURCE helped Corporate and Association Meeting Planners find PERFECT speakers and entertainers for their events: motivational, business leadership and management experts, keynote, celebrities, corporate entertainment, humorous, diversity, political, authors, consulting and training solutions, sport athletes and much more.

Lilly Walters is the author of five of the best-selling books about the professional speaking industry, including the bestseller she wrote for Dottie Walters, "Speak and Grow Rich"