Uncle Wes was this wonderful father figure. Although I had a very good father, Uncle Wes often stepped in and added a special dimension to my childhood and the memories I now have, in additon to what I gained from my own parents, adults in the neighborhood, and friends of the family.
It was over sixty years ago, in the 1940s, when Uncle Wes had this special black truck. The amazing thing about his truck was that it could fly.
Uncle Wes would call up our home on some Friday nights and invite me to go with him to cemeteries in his flying truck...the next day.
A parent might be scared of knowing that a child would be riding in a flying truck and certainly not to go to cemeteries. Why in the world would they be flying and spending time in cemeteries?
Uncle Wes was my mother's brother and all the family was very special. We all knew Uncle Wes to be a great man.
I would never hear the special black truck coming, because it was a quiet truck. That's probably because Uncle Wes kept his special black, flying truck, in tip-top condition and it was pretty new, too. I always would be sitting on the top step of our steep stairs leading up to the big porch at our house on Willets Place in Ithaca. He would ride up the hill on East Buffalo Street and turn on Willets Place, a private street where the Ithaca College Infirmary was also located, and the President of Ithaca College's home was in front of us.
I'd run down the stairs and jump in the truck when I'd see Uncle Wes turn the corner and head down the street. I'd always be looking forward to my times with Uncle Wes.
Off we would go and once we were on the road Uncle Wes would announce that we were now lifting off and starting to fly. I believed him.
Was I not bright? How come I fell for ths?
I guess because I didn't stand up on the seat and I was just a little child, I believed with all my heart that we were flying and heading for the cemetery.
Why would we be going to a cemetery?
Uncle Wes owned a monument shop where he sold granite and marble monuments and flat, rectangular slabs of stone, giving honor to those who had died.
He was skilled in chiseling in the names and dates of the person who had died and always put the birth and death dates.
My job was to help him clean up afterwards. We would take rags and clean the monuments and flat stones with turpentine or mineral spirits and then we would take grass clippers and trim all around the granite parts or marble areas and get everything looking great.
Sometimes we headed for other parts of a cemetery to do more work...or we would head out, flying, to another cemetery in Ithaca or outside the city. Mostly, we would spend the whole day together.
At some point we would stop work and eat our bag lunch. We would always have a sandwich, maybe an apple or banana, water to drink, and either Aunt Mary's delicious chocolate cake or something my mom would send with us.
Uncle Wes and Aunt Mary had three children and at least one was now an adult. But, one of the children was a boy just about my age, just a little younger, and we were like brothers.
I guess he went out with his dad at other times, and maybe his sister and older brother had done the same thing, too, but these Saturday trips in the flying truck were just our times together.
What a geat man and what an example he set for me.
We might have been only spending time in cemeteries and flying in that special black truck, but I think that's where I learned great respect and honor for the people who had died, and where I learned that we should always spend time helping little chlldren to develop well.
I cherish what Uncle Wes did for me and he will always be in my heart.
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