family My crazy uncle (corrections)

Posted August 21, 2005 • Comments Off on My crazy uncle (corrections)

My mother has set me straight on some things.

No, Russell (1904-196-), Arthur (1906-197-) and Rollin (1908-1993) were Caverlys, only Donald was a Beckett. And only Donald was in the army.

Sue Beckett had 4 brothers. One died of muscular dystrophy at age 15. He was the closest in age to Sue. One was killed in a bar fight the same day Grandpa Beckett died. That is why Russ did not attend our father’s funeral. He stayed with Sue to comfort her. Which we were all in complete agreement with. One is retarded, still living with Sue’s parents, and the other is an alcoholic, in & out of prison his whole life. Sadly, the only one of the 4 to marry and have kids (3 adorable little girls) was the one who got shot. Leaving a widow with 3 small children. Some families have more to bear than others.

Yes, it has been a source of joy to me that you and Jeff are close. It worked!

Russ has a bachelor’s from Hiram College, in Hiram, Ohio (about 50 miles east of Brecksville). He only spent one year at Colgate, freshman year, and he hated it. He said the boys spent all their time plotting how to meet girls (it was a men’s college at the time). So sophomore year he transferred to Hiram and gave up an all-expenses paid scholarship at Colgate. ALL expenses. They even gave him money for books. My mother never forgave him! She had to borrow the money to pay for his schooling, and when she died, he had to pay it all back. Some of it came due immediately, and he was still in school, so he took every part-time job he could find. He drove a school bus for the town of Hiram. He worked in a print shop. I think he drove a Cleveland city bus one summer.

He also has a masters in clinical psych from Cleveland State University. He lived on Stumph Rd. with Ron & me while getting the masters. We kind of kicked him out when you arrived. He had been sleeping in your room.

I knew that last part. He slept (and she will correct me if I’m making shit up again) on a black naugahyde fold-out sofa that we had my whole life. I took said sofa with me to Blacksburg my sophomore year of college, and it was a central decor piece in my apartment. When I moved out of that apartment, my mother and I took that sofa to the county dump, where we basically left it outside in the middle of a giant field of mud. I had never been to a dump before, and haven’t since, and it was very odd.

This is the Army-uniformed (though hardly official!) photo of Donald, my great-uncle, that I believe I mentioned.

Uncledonald

And this is a typical example of the many photos in the same box. There’s no way for me to identify these women, or how they were related to me (except that it was on my mother’s side), but I love this picture.

Fourladies

In other news:

Tonight Lisa and David and Rob and Tracy and Brett and I went to see “The 40-Year-Old Virgin.” I cannot recommend this movie highly enough, and no, I’m not kidding. It was great. I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard, this continuously, at a movie. Six years ago, when Dan and I went to see the second Austin Powers movie and about fell out of our chairs in parts, was not even close. This movie was fucking hilarious. It wasn’t stupid, and it wasn’t even particularly juvenile (at least not throughout); it was just plain funny as all hell. Seriously. Go see it.