Uncle Bo

[jdmidwest]

We were a close knit family growing up.  My uncles and grandfathers played a great role in my up bringing.  Dad was there most of the time, but as a farmer, his schedule kept him working 7 days a week.  The others had more free time.  Grandpa on Mom's side taught me stream fishing, beekeeping, gardening, and retail business.  Grandpa on Dad's side taught me hunting, shooting pool, and whisky drinking.  My uncles on Dad's side taught me how to shoot, reload, black powder, archery, motor cycle trail riding, and mechanical skills.  Then there was Uncle Bo.

We were the center of our family group, growing up on the family farm that had been in the family for generations.  My uncles from St. Louis brought in trailers and used them as family retreats from the city during the weekends and holidays.  They were there alot.  From the time I was about 6 till I went away to college, I could depend on them to be there and enjoy the toys they brought with them. 

Uncle Bo was the favorite, him and Aunt Judy never had any kids.  They were actually Great Aunt and Uncle, being 2 generations from me.  They spoiled the kids like the ones they never had.  I was able to make the most of it, being there all of the time.  We went fishing in the old jon boat, turkey hunting, deer hunting, and just piddling around.  Uncle Bo taught me how to walk in the woods quietly.  He taught me how to fish with bait and lures.  We spent countless hours in the field.

He was a collector of fine firearms and knives. It was my first knife from him that I still carry a scar from a cut to the bone on my thumb came from.  He showed me how to hone a knife to razor sharp and test it by shaving arm hair.  To this day, both of our left arms has slightly darker and thicker hair from testing knives.   It was his Crosman air rifle that I used to shoot my first squirrel.  I used his Winchester Model 42 410 shotgun to take my first turkey.  Later, his Browning Lite 20 took my first solo turkey.  It was his Winchester 38-55 lever rifle that I used to take my first deer.  His little Remington 22 short automatic rifle was what I used around the farm until he bought my first 22, a Ruger 10-22 with another consecutive serial number one that he gave to Dad the same day. 

When it came to fishing, he had been to several states and Canada on numerous trips.  He recounted the hey days of Lake Wappappello when they dammed it up, a few years later producing large bass with every cast.  By the time we fished it, the timber had rotted down and mud had sedimented the bottom, but we always caught fish.  And unlike the rest of my family, he could catch fish on artificials as well as bait.  We did numerous floats on the rivers around the house in his canoe or jon boat.  Most of my free time in the spring and summer was spent fishing with him, enjoying bacon and egg sandwiches with the famous fried pies.  Nights in the fall was fried squirrels and gravy at their house, spring was fish we had caught.  Whatever we brought in, Aunt Judy would cook it up.

Years passed and we kept it up.  After I married, they moved into a house near us and sold the trailer.  We still spent time together, hunting on the farm.  Aunt Judy passed in 03, Uncle Bo still came around.  We still hunted together from time to time until his eyes gave out and he could not see well enough to shoot.  A mini stroke or something a few years ago left him confused at times and he ended up in a nursing home.  The last memory he retained of me was when I told him about the cancer last fall.  When we went to visit him in this Sept., he asked me if I had survived the surgery not even realizing who he was talking to.  He pointed down the isle at someone playing in the cornfield with him.  The uncle I knew had left, his body still was here.

Tomorrow, I will carry him to his final resting place alongside Aunt Judy.  He joined the spirits of my other mentors on Monday morning at the age of 97, now they are all watching over me.  All that is left of that generation of men is my dad.  He turned 80 yesterday.

 

[Terrierman]

Quote

 

Well then.  May God bless and keep your Uncle Bo until you meet again.  No hurry.  I'm sure Bo will understand.

 

[jdmidwest]

I think the worst part of getting old is seeing the death of the ones you love and know.  But, I am still getting older and alive and I can respect that.

I was reading an obit tonight about a classmate of the same age as me that died of cancer this week.  Both of his parents and 2 of his siblings have already passed.  Longevity is something my family has been blessed with, along with fairly good health.  I still have my parents and siblings.

[Mitch f]

I have become very aware of my own mortality after the death of my parents. I'm still not over it and it's been a few years. I've become very sentimental with my wife and daughters and cherish every waking hour. Sorry for your Uncle Bo, JD.

[Gavin]

It hurts to see the people you love leave, but bound to happen. Glad that you shared your memories of Uncle Bo. Pass your narrative of Uncle Bo's memory down the line. It speaks of kindness & love for the outdoors. Kind thoughts headed toward you and your family.

[Johnsfolly]

JD

Sorry about your loss. You are so filled with memories that Uncle Bo and Aunt Judy will never be forgotten. Cherish those and pass them along. We each want to be immortal and seems that those two are well on the way in yours and your family's hearts.

[David Unnerstall]

This was well written, JD.  You are a lucky man to have had such an uncle.

[Al Agnew]

Great tribute, JD...I can only hope that my nieces and nephew remember me with a fraction of the fondness that you remember your uncle.

[jdmidwest]

I was and am still a lucky man, to have mentors that have guided my life and moulded me to the man I am today.

Uncle Bo was my introduction to the wonderful city of St. Louis.  I spent alot of time with him growing up, sharing his knowledge of the city that he had made his home.  Coming back from WWII, he and my Aunt settled in the city where jobs were plentiful.  They made a good living there, Aunty making leather goods at a factory in South County and Bo working from factory jobs to owning a string of used car lots.  it was at those car lots that I got to drive Shelby Mustangs, a peppy little car that were Rent a Cars at one time.  He used to buy them when they came off service and up for auction.  Man, how I wish we would have tossed one of them into a garage somewhere for the future.

It was with him that I had my first White Castle burger, the best was on Grand near Bevo Mill.  Ted Drewes, Buck or Two, and several other places were stops to eat too.  We run the pawn shops and he taught me the art of the Deal.  Never pay full price, jew them down.  We roamed Soulard, South Broadway, and Carondelet area looking for stuff to do and bargains.  For fun, Forest Park was always a place to hang out.  Or run down to Grant's Farm and take a ride and eat a pretzel while watching the animals.  The city was a fun place to visit, but we both enjoyed the country better.

When he was at my place, we were always going if the weather permitted.  First, we all run the backroads in Willy's jeeps that were a dime a dozen.  Our area was full of log roads and country gravel roads that we could travel all day and seldom see pavement.  As I grew older, it was dirt bikes we used for the drives on the off roads.  Or we built VW Baja Beetles, Dune Buggies, and Rail jobs to run the off roads.  Uncle Bob was the master mechanic that could make anything out of a VW engine.   We would leave out in the morning as a group and ride all day.  The VW.s we would use for hunting, the narrow wheel base would navigate around the ruts left by 4 wheelers and the rear engine gave us additional traction.  In the fall, we would idle along behind a squirrel dog on a log road till he treed a squirrel, then get out and harvest it.

When we had down time or a nasty day, Uncle Bo and I would spend hours playing Spades or Gin.  Another skill I learned from him.