Ok--
I had two Uncles on both my parents sides that I lost before their time. Today I will talk about the Reeds, the Delarm's will wait for another day. Both of these men were very young and they both died in car crashes. Joseph Reed was home on leave and due to go to Korea, or possibly back to Korea.I was not yet in Kindergarten so my facts are more what I was told. My Mother comes from a very expressive family, and so she was not prepared for how well her in-laws handled the details and the funeral. Reeds back then had trouble expressing deep emotions, or they are stoic to the nth degree.
The one thing they did do which I think was enlightened was they set up the Joseph Reed Memorial scholarship for the Ideal Senior, and the senior students themselves pick the recipient. That I am afraid is the sum total of all I can remember being told of him.
Edward Reed was another matter.I have vivid memories of him, although they are from a child's eye view. I would like to take some of our time together today to share them with you.
First of all he married Sheila Burgey. She is the only one I know that called him Eddie or Edward. To everyone I knew he was Bug. They all had nick-names, Grandpa was Biscuit, Uncle Don was Jake, etc., etc,and although I don't know the stories of the nicknames, I know my Uncle.
When he died, he had two beautiful little girls, Pattie Sue and Debbie. He also had a daughter on the way, Tammy, and she was born after his death and never got to meet him. I felt lucky to know him. At one point Uncle Bug and Aunt Sheila lived next door to Grandma and Grandpa which was across the street from us. I can remember that house had a front porch, but family went the length of the porch to a private door that led to a kitchen. I remember one day Mom sent me to answer the door and guess who was there? A huge man with a Jack-o-lantern head, and it was lit!!. I screamed, (and knowing me cried) but it turned out to be Uncle Bug coming to bring me a carved pumpkin. I thought he was perfect. I loved him.
I can remember one morning whilst we were sitting in the kitchen eating cereal, Uncle Bug came over and was trying to teach me jumping jacks. The problem was, our ceiling was too low, and he was very tall. Yup, his head dented our ceiling. Well, the boys were all scared of their brother Bill, so home they went. A few mornings later, same kitchen, same bowl of cereal, Mom. Billy and I were huddled around the breakfast table and the ceiling collapsed all around us, except for directly over the kitchen table. Lathe and plaster and dirt everywhere, but we were OK. There are other stories of collapsing ceilings, but I want to focus on a person today, we can revisit those topics later, if you are still interested.
the last story I have heard but do not remember is the day he died.The phrase is we lost him, but it was who were lost. We lost him sounds like we were careless and misplaced him.. If I have been told properly and remember right, Uncle Bug had been in a body cast for something I can't remember. He was in a convertible with and between two of his best friends. They were driving in the upper Preston Hill area (abouts) and as they came over a hill, came upon children playing in the road. A little too sharply they swerved to miss the children, and the two buddies had door handles to hang onto but Uncle Bug was ejected.The two other men barely had a scratch despite the car rolling, Uncle Bug died. For some reason I do not know, my Dad came upon the scene. I can honestly tell you, despite the prompting I gave him (not realizing how cruel it was to ask my Dad to feel anything), he never discussed that day or the car accident his younger brother Joe had had. My Dad had a policy of the less said the better, and he said almost nothing at all. On any topic, ever, unless it was trivia. I can remember as my Dad lay dying after the stroke, I became begging people if anyone had ever heard him say anything nice about me. Although they assured me he loved me, no one could recall an actual mention of the fact. The beautiful children Uncle Bug left behind will never have to worry about that. Their Father loved life and everyone in it. Did he get into scrapes, you bet (remember the afore mentioned body cast), but he made living on Liberty Street a bit more fun. He made life more fun, he was fun. My Aunt Sheila did something right, because she has three beautiful daughters who are assets to the community. They are as good inside as they are pretty. They love their little families they made, and include people maybe not related by blood, but adopted into their hearts. In short they are the best of both their parents good attributes, and I am proud to be related to them, I only wish I had been older so I would have more things to share with them. They deserve to know all about their Daddy.We all do. It is as basic a need as air.
God bless you , whoever your Daddy was.
I had two Uncles on both my parents sides that I lost before their time. Today I will talk about the Reeds, the Delarm's will wait for another day. Both of these men were very young and they both died in car crashes. Joseph Reed was home on leave and due to go to Korea, or possibly back to Korea.I was not yet in Kindergarten so my facts are more what I was told. My Mother comes from a very expressive family, and so she was not prepared for how well her in-laws handled the details and the funeral. Reeds back then had trouble expressing deep emotions, or they are stoic to the nth degree.
The one thing they did do which I think was enlightened was they set up the Joseph Reed Memorial scholarship for the Ideal Senior, and the senior students themselves pick the recipient. That I am afraid is the sum total of all I can remember being told of him.
Edward Reed was another matter.I have vivid memories of him, although they are from a child's eye view. I would like to take some of our time together today to share them with you.
First of all he married Sheila Burgey. She is the only one I know that called him Eddie or Edward. To everyone I knew he was Bug. They all had nick-names, Grandpa was Biscuit, Uncle Don was Jake, etc., etc,and although I don't know the stories of the nicknames, I know my Uncle.
When he died, he had two beautiful little girls, Pattie Sue and Debbie. He also had a daughter on the way, Tammy, and she was born after his death and never got to meet him. I felt lucky to know him. At one point Uncle Bug and Aunt Sheila lived next door to Grandma and Grandpa which was across the street from us. I can remember that house had a front porch, but family went the length of the porch to a private door that led to a kitchen. I remember one day Mom sent me to answer the door and guess who was there? A huge man with a Jack-o-lantern head, and it was lit!!. I screamed, (and knowing me cried) but it turned out to be Uncle Bug coming to bring me a carved pumpkin. I thought he was perfect. I loved him.
I can remember one morning whilst we were sitting in the kitchen eating cereal, Uncle Bug came over and was trying to teach me jumping jacks. The problem was, our ceiling was too low, and he was very tall. Yup, his head dented our ceiling. Well, the boys were all scared of their brother Bill, so home they went. A few mornings later, same kitchen, same bowl of cereal, Mom. Billy and I were huddled around the breakfast table and the ceiling collapsed all around us, except for directly over the kitchen table. Lathe and plaster and dirt everywhere, but we were OK. There are other stories of collapsing ceilings, but I want to focus on a person today, we can revisit those topics later, if you are still interested.
the last story I have heard but do not remember is the day he died.The phrase is we lost him, but it was who were lost. We lost him sounds like we were careless and misplaced him.. If I have been told properly and remember right, Uncle Bug had been in a body cast for something I can't remember. He was in a convertible with and between two of his best friends. They were driving in the upper Preston Hill area (abouts) and as they came over a hill, came upon children playing in the road. A little too sharply they swerved to miss the children, and the two buddies had door handles to hang onto but Uncle Bug was ejected.The two other men barely had a scratch despite the car rolling, Uncle Bug died. For some reason I do not know, my Dad came upon the scene. I can honestly tell you, despite the prompting I gave him (not realizing how cruel it was to ask my Dad to feel anything), he never discussed that day or the car accident his younger brother Joe had had. My Dad had a policy of the less said the better, and he said almost nothing at all. On any topic, ever, unless it was trivia. I can remember as my Dad lay dying after the stroke, I became begging people if anyone had ever heard him say anything nice about me. Although they assured me he loved me, no one could recall an actual mention of the fact. The beautiful children Uncle Bug left behind will never have to worry about that. Their Father loved life and everyone in it. Did he get into scrapes, you bet (remember the afore mentioned body cast), but he made living on Liberty Street a bit more fun. He made life more fun, he was fun. My Aunt Sheila did something right, because she has three beautiful daughters who are assets to the community. They are as good inside as they are pretty. They love their little families they made, and include people maybe not related by blood, but adopted into their hearts. In short they are the best of both their parents good attributes, and I am proud to be related to them, I only wish I had been older so I would have more things to share with them. They deserve to know all about their Daddy.We all do. It is as basic a need as air.
God bless you , whoever your Daddy was.
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