Click photograph to enlarge
Loa Servis (my sister), Guy Huber (my great uncle), and Johnnie Brummet (aka Jack)
Of all my relatives, one of the few held in high regard was my Great Uncle Guy. He lived in a ramshackle cabin on the Cowlitz River in the rural village of Castle Rock, Washington (just downstream from Mount Saint Helens). He owned a ferry to transport people across the river (and save them the hour of driving up to the next bridge). My mom, Betty Brummet, thinks the boat was tethered to a cable anchored across the river. The boat carried one car and passengers on deck. I don't know what he charged. A quarter, four bits, a buck? Actually, a buck seems steep. . .
Uncle Guy lost a leg in his twenties. He was run over by a logging train; somehow one of his legs survived. My mom remembers hearing that he was drug away, on a mattress that soaked through with his blood, and that he barely survived. He had a wooden leg (none of these modern articulated, titanium wonders), which I just realized is perhaps the reason I have references to wooden legs in at least three of my poems. Come to think of it, I remember him having the kids give it a good kick. If you've been a reader here a while, you may also remember he is not the only person in my family missing a limb...in fact if you click here, you'll see my Grandpa Del sitting in the very same chair two years earlier, while I teethed on his hook arm!
Studying Huber family photographs, it's clear that most of their genetic flaws--girth, stubby legs (my inseam is the same as Keelin's, and she's eight inches shorter) were passed right along to the next generation. . .not to mention their heads. The Hubers had long heads, and they had big heads, a trait they passed along. My head's not in the John Kerry or Lurch category, but it's right up there. I'm a 7 7/8 hat size.
Betty Brummet remembers his cabin, rain on the tin roof, and the sound of the Cowlitz River rushing by. He was a lifelong bachelor, but had a longtime girlfriend "Sis," who promised her father on his deathbed she would never marry, and take care of her mother. I don't know if I remember eating smelt Uncle Guy brought or not, but I can't eat or hear about smelt without thinking of him. He was one of Grandma Galvin's three brothers and four sisters.
Sidebar: I ended up with three grandmas, and four grandpas.
I can't remember a lot about Guy, but I know everyone was happy when he came to town. He was one of those guys who lit up a room just being there. In the grand scale of things, it really doesn't get much better than that. (Author raises a glass to Uncle Guy).
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This is why I keep coming back to "All this is that". Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!
ReplyDeleteThank you! I always wonder if pieces like this don't become boring. I don't know if you've seen any of family blogs out there. . .I hope I'm avoiding that trap anyhow! These pieces are fun to write, since they usually involve me calling and grilling my 82 year old mother about various facts and figures... /jack
ReplyDeleteGreat stuff Johnnie boy. I haven't warmed up to the alien lore yet but your history is the best.
ReplyDeleteYou and everyone else haven't warmed up to the alien lore yet!
ReplyDeleteIt's a guilty pleasure I insist on inflicting on everyone else...
Now, as to who Cuz is. . .there are like about 100 candidates, although "johnnie boy" narrows it down to at least the Kent and/or Spokane Currans...
Kev's bro?
ReplyDeleteThar's nobility in them thar hillbillies. These stories of your family are funny, loving, and touching. You come from a great bunch, sir juack.
ReplyDeleteSomeone else said something like this, but you make out that your family were rubes and rednecks, but when you write about them all you feel is the love.
ReplyDelete