Today I traveled to King, Wisconsin--the veterans' home near Waupaca--for my Uncle Carl's funeral. Uncle Carl (a former Marine who was at Iwo Jima) was never shy, whether talking about politics or how Brett Favre would never become a decent starter (which he maintained throughout Favre's career), but he was pretty much always entertaining (in a good way). At one time, he owned a bar in Three Lakes with my Aunt Marge (his third wife), and a long time ago, he once ran unsuccessfully for county sheriff. I went up with my parents (Carl was mom's 14-year-senior brother) and my sister to meet with Carl's 12 living kids/stepkids, and assorted other relatives to share in telling stories about his life. I remembersoftball games at the family reunions--they let us little kids play with the adults--and Uncle Carl always seemed to pitch against me. He gave me the business with every pitch, but it was always in fun, and I could tell he was as thrilled as I when I dropped one over the infield to reach first safely.
I hope my nephews have warm memories of me, too, when I'm gone.
Rest in peace, Uncle Carl.
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