An American car
When my oldest nephew Howard was born in the mid 40's. I loved to visit my older brother and his wife. Ruth was going to be a REAL mother and that is what she became.
Odis was a dry humor comic at times with a sly smile. But I remember once that stung. I was only 5 years old & Howard a baby, when Od said, “Jackie this boy will be flying airplanes before you drive a car.” Howard and I were friends as he grew up. He became a business man, a good husband and dad.
He was 36 years old and I heard he was sick and went to see him. “Uncle Jack, the doctor says I have killed myself.”
“I came in last week after midnight making sure the carpet was laid and complete in a new house. I was hurting in my chest, thought it was gas. I did some jumping jacks, pushups and other exercises. The gas would not go away. I didn’t wake Helen, just drove to the hospital.”
“WHAT?” I mouthed in disbelief.
“The doctor says I have done irreparable damage to my heart.” At that time he was walking around at a display he had set up for his dad’s fleet of giant model ships, for a newspaper or magazine shoot. He looked as healthy as he ever did.
In that 36 years he went from a helper in a fish Camp (Fish Restaurant to anyone outside this area), to building and owning his own Fish Camp. Then to the Carpet business. Howard had a great business head, I am sure the rest of his story would have been fantastic.
I enjoyed writing it, but most of all reading your great comments on the entry of 'occupational stories'. It hit me later. Yes, not just occupations have stories, but every life is a story, sadly some are ‘short stories.’