May 28, 2021, 12:03 AM
4.40s1nineThe following 2 pictures are of my uncle Dee. 1 of my father's 2 older brothers. I don't have a lot of information on his service, as there are no relatives alive with those recollections. I personally think he served fighting the Japanese. The pictures are paper copies of the originals, so it is hard to read his note. I can't tell the exact body part he "pulled" on that jump.
The next group of photos include my mom's father, her brother, and the same uncle in the black and white photos above. For those that might not think he is the same person, he had that condition that made his eyelids droop.
My mom's brother is in the photo where the wagon is being assembled. He served in Vietnam, had a hard time when he returned. He made some bad choices that had serious consequences. He kind of got his life straightened out, got married and had a child. He was killed riding a bike in Ogden Utah. The driver fled and was never found.
Now I come to the person I am most excited about sharing with you, especially with the upcoming Memorial Day. He was one of 9 children, 2 sisters, and the rest boys. He was born on an Indian reservation in eastern Utah. He worked hard all of his life, beginning as a young kid and continuing well into his 70's.
He grew into a large man. He was 6'6 without his cowboy boots or his cowboy hat on. You can see how much taller he is than the other men in the pictures. The picture of him with the 2 men and the fish, those men were around 5'11. He was the strongest person I have ever known. He used to break open 2 walnuts in one of his gigantic hands, simply by closing his hand and crushing them together. He didn't hold them together with sides of the nuts together, which might have made it just a little easier, instead he would make sure to position them end to end and then do it. He could do it not only with his dominant right hand, but with his left hand as well. Just try and hold two full size walnuts in your palm, let alone crush them. I am in the camp where I couldn't even hold 2 in my palm end to end, let alone close my fingers.
He was the consummate outdoorsman. He could track, hunt, and fish with the best of them. He had a deep love for horses, and spent most of his life owning and riding. He rode for work, going on cattle drives, sheepherding, on other things that allowed him to spend time in the high Uintah's, in and around the Flaming Gorge area.
He was quite the character around town. All the waitresses knew him. He loved to flirt with them, and I don't ever remember one who didn't love flirting back to him. He was selected as the "King of the Rodeo" for the town's annual Dinosaur Round Up in July for what seemed like a 10 year stretch. With that honor, he got to lead the parade with the Queen of the Rodeo. The Queens were always young and beautiful, and he loved every minute of it.
He was also mentally strong and persevered through hardship after hardship. He actually was the subject of a Reader's Digest article. I can't remember the type of story it ran as, whether it was one of the True Stories, or Tales of Courage. I tried finding it online with hopes of sharing it here, but was not able to locate it.
He was always taking on jobs helping neighbors with farms and ranches. He was in his late 50's and he took on a job cutting standing corn. I am not sure of the exact farm machine he was using, for some reason a Combine seems to stick out. As he was driving the machine and cutting the corn, something happened with the front end getting stuck. He Found what had caused the blades to stop and he started working to free it. I don't remember all the specific details, but when he started to get it going, he got caught up in the blades. His right arm got caught, and he struggled to get free over a couple of hours. At first, just his hand had been crushed, jamming up the blades again. As he worked to free himself by trying to hit some kind of release, the blades would start moving again, pulling his arm further and further into the machine. He eventually passed out due to blood loss. A friend of my Grandfather happened to be driving by the field as it was getting dark, and he saw my grandpa's truck but no one around. He stopped and he found him passed out.
He was life flighted to a hospital in Salt Lake City, Utah. He had lost a lot of blood. He ended up losing everything from just below his shoulder. He had enough left though so that he was outfitted with a shoulder harness that terminated in a hook. He had several surgeries in the first couple of years.
He had to teach himself how to do everything with his left hand for the most part. He never really let it slow him down. He never felt sorry for himself, and he never complained. He would split his own wood, hunt, and fish. He loved fly fishing. Oh, I almost forgot, he was really good at pool, both before and after the accident. In fact, there were several times my mother would send me into the local bar/pool hall to bring him over for supper.
You can see what the locals and his friends called him in this last picture.
l am proud to call him gramps. Happy birthday to you sir, and thank you for serving.
Thanks to all who have served.
Be safe.This message has been edited. Last edited by: 4.40s1nine,
