Margie's Memories

E-mailed to me by my cousin in October of 2019

Karen’s Dad was my one & only Uncle. He was my Dad’s younger brother. I really just remember a few stories about him.

He was always known to be a bit of a daredevil, crazy driver. One day he drove my brother & I, in his old Corvair, down “Slope Hill”, as fast as he could go! It was a very steep hill in my hometown and needless to say, we left our stomachs at the top of the hill! There was a railroad track at the top of the hill and I remember flying over that and  just stopping by the skin of our teeth, at the very bottom of the hill, where there was a stop sign and oncoming traffic! What a thrill ride it was!

Another driving episode I recall was when he took my cousins and my brother and I on a drive to a  Frank Lloyd Wright house tour in Wisconsin. I remember him driving off the side of the road into the gravel a few times. But most of all, I remember stopping to buy some “squeaky cheese”, which I had never eaten before. Squeaky cheese is fresh cheese curds that make a squeaky sound in your mouth when you chew them. Something about the cheese texture on your teeth enamel makes a squeaky sound!

Another great memory is that Uncle Dave was very athletic. He & my dad use to race some of the first skateboards around in our basement. I remember Uncle Dave doing handstands & walking on his hands in our basement and also leap-frogging over my Dad.

Uncle Dave & my dad had a great interest in cars, having been teens of the 50’s. They were always working on cars on the weekends. They did everything from rebuilding motors to getting a tow home from each other, because one of their old used cars had died or had some major issue, while on their way somewhere.

After my dad passed away, Uncle Dave came out to visit me in Arizona a few times. He would shop for old vintage rust free cars, usually buy one, and drive it back east. He’d keep it for a while and then resell it for a profit.

After my dad passed away, he would also send me a dozen red roses every year, on my birthday.

I guess my favorite memory is that after my first child was born, he made a special trip, all the way from Illinois to my home in Arizona, to be at my son’s first birthday party.