Feb. 09, 2002 - 20:51 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

Great Uncle

(Note - - David is showing improvement - slight but not sliding back.)

My Dad thought this man was his brother, ergo he would have been my uncle. In reality, late in Dad's life he found that this man was his Uncle. Uncle or Great Uncle I loved this man very much.

By trade he was a carpenter and cabinet maker, an excellent one at that. His temperament was so great, not a holier than thou bearing, but a kind man who worked hard, said little, and gave much. I never heard him raise his voice and never heard him verbally chastise his kids and spanking was not in his vocabulary or actions.

It was not his nature to expect pats on the back or praise for who he was or what he did. He expected nothing like that. He seemed to operate in the background, letting his kids shine, encouraging them and letting Aunt seemingly run the show.

I would hazard a guess that he was the only man in the world who could get along with Aunt for his wife. She was a fine woman, a good mother but a very difficult person to be around. But, he loved her. In his low, civil, respectful voice he was oil to calm the roiling waters of her furor.

I think once I remarked on the the difference between her personality and Uncle's. If one of us misbehaved, her razor strop was cruel and cutting. If I was the culprit and Uncle was not around, Aunt would administer the appropriate discipline. The punishment was short, not unfair, just severe. Uncle on the other hand in his mild way, would not scold nor whip us. His sadness over my behavior was more punishment than any whacks Aunt could give me.

Cousin and I now quite old reminisced recently over the difference in parents personality, my Mom and Dad, Aunts style vs Uncle's way, etc. He told me of one time he had misbehaved when Aunt was gone. Uncle in his calm, gentle way said, "I wouldn't have done that." All the number of years that had passed Cousin still almost cried at the memory of the guilt and shame he had felt because of the hurt in his father's voice.

During the depression there were no real jobs for carpenters or cabinet makers. I remember that new houses were not being built then. But Uncle would find jobs though. Building or repairing fences and gates, building or repairing a shed and sometimes doing cabinet work inside a house. He never seemed to be idle. On a Saturday a time or two I went with him to help, (precious little of that I was) and was taught by example his way of working as well as thinking about things.

Sometime during the depression he found steady work at a lumber company which also did custom work. He stayed busy making things like stair rails, cupboards and other cabinetry. During idle times he would do other lumber yard work.

He was a man of peace, civility and integrity. A natural man who seemingly wore a mantle of dignity without chest beating - "look at me" puffery.

Cousin and I would sit near the table watching Uncle and my Dad play pinochle listening to their conversation, trying to learn the best from both things.

He was a most remarkable man, there was nothing miraculous about him, no halo, no wings, but to me if I was near him I felt covered by the blanket of peace and calm that surrounded him.

Cousin is my age, a bit worse off physically than I but on oxygen too. When we are together his father comes into our conversation. It starts out, "Remember when . . . . . . . .

I truly had a Great Uncle . . . . . . .

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