Uncle Charlie
As I was playing my guitar on the deck after dinner this pleasant early summer evening, I was reminded of my Uncle Charlie. (OK, it's technically still spring but, to this very day, "summer" begins for me whenever school lets out.)
Shown here on the right with his brothers and sisters at a family reunion in 1947, Uncle Charlie was actually my great uncle. But to me, he was always simply uncle. What's a missing generation between friends?
In his youth Uncle Charlie had been a semi-pro baseball player and loved the game. He adopted the Cincinnati Reds as his team, probably because he could get WKRC, the clear-channel AM station in Cincinnati, on his radio. When he wasn't at one of the minor league games played at Earnie Shore Field in Winston-Salem, he could be found sitting on his front porch, listening to broadcasts of the Reds game. And, when the Reds weren't playing, he would often play his guitar instead.
Uncle Charlie, no doubt, sparked my interest in what today is called Americana music. I fondly remember a visit to the old Union Grove Fiddler's Convention in the 1950's when it was still held in the high school gymnasium with no microphones, no amplifiers, and no loudspeakers. Just pure music. Charlie's son, James, was visiting from Arizona (where he had moved in search of relief from asthma) and the sponsors were giving away a prize for the person that had come the longest way to attend the convention. We took home the prize that night, a sack of Martha White biscuit flour!
The "techie" in our family, Uncle Charlie was was a plumber and electrician by trade. He had helped install the first telephone lines in Winston-Salem and Forsyth County and, as a result, was the only person in the neighborhood with a telephone before 1952. He always left his front door unlocked so that folks could go in and use the phone whenever they needed to make a call. It was understood that you would leave a dime to help pay the phone bill.
He also liked to fish and, when I wanted to go fishing, a subtle hint usually was all that was needed to get us started on our way to some favorite fishing hole. The ride could be a little scary though as I would catch him driving his gray Studebaker truck down the left side of the road from time to time. Seems that when he first learned to drive, you drove on the "wrong" side. Old habits are hard to break, even "back then".
I feel fortunate to have had Uncle Charlie so near and accessible as I grew up, and think today's kids living in dispersed families miss an important part of their childhood by not having an opportunity to go fishing with their "Uncle Charlie" on a fine summer day.
If only I had gotten him to teach me to play the guitar ...
Shown here on the right with his brothers and sisters at a family reunion in 1947, Uncle Charlie was actually my great uncle. But to me, he was always simply uncle. What's a missing generation between friends?
In his youth Uncle Charlie had been a semi-pro baseball player and loved the game. He adopted the Cincinnati Reds as his team, probably because he could get WKRC, the clear-channel AM station in Cincinnati, on his radio. When he wasn't at one of the minor league games played at Earnie Shore Field in Winston-Salem, he could be found sitting on his front porch, listening to broadcasts of the Reds game. And, when the Reds weren't playing, he would often play his guitar instead.
Uncle Charlie, no doubt, sparked my interest in what today is called Americana music. I fondly remember a visit to the old Union Grove Fiddler's Convention in the 1950's when it was still held in the high school gymnasium with no microphones, no amplifiers, and no loudspeakers. Just pure music. Charlie's son, James, was visiting from Arizona (where he had moved in search of relief from asthma) and the sponsors were giving away a prize for the person that had come the longest way to attend the convention. We took home the prize that night, a sack of Martha White biscuit flour!
The "techie" in our family, Uncle Charlie was was a plumber and electrician by trade. He had helped install the first telephone lines in Winston-Salem and Forsyth County and, as a result, was the only person in the neighborhood with a telephone before 1952. He always left his front door unlocked so that folks could go in and use the phone whenever they needed to make a call. It was understood that you would leave a dime to help pay the phone bill.
He also liked to fish and, when I wanted to go fishing, a subtle hint usually was all that was needed to get us started on our way to some favorite fishing hole. The ride could be a little scary though as I would catch him driving his gray Studebaker truck down the left side of the road from time to time. Seems that when he first learned to drive, you drove on the "wrong" side. Old habits are hard to break, even "back then".
I feel fortunate to have had Uncle Charlie so near and accessible as I grew up, and think today's kids living in dispersed families miss an important part of their childhood by not having an opportunity to go fishing with their "Uncle Charlie" on a fine summer day.
If only I had gotten him to teach me to play the guitar ...
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