My Three Wise Men

 

In 1995 I gave a journal to each of my parents as a Christmas gift and asked them to record stories from their past.   I have my father’s journal.   My request of him reads as follows:

Dad – you, Uncle Harry Mac and Uncle Harry Barner have shared dozens of tales from your youth.  I love hearing them.  Please use this book to write them down so our family will always to able to know “how it used to be”.  I’ll get you more books if you need them!  Love Rob

He wrote on thirteen pages of the journal.  The first four page entry was written on that first Christmas Day.   The last nine pages were written over the last nine months of his life while he was in an assortment hospitals and nursing facilities.  His handwriting became less legible as his health failed.  Most of the final nine pages were about current events – things that he was witnessing during those nine months.

My dad and Uncle Harry Mac were best friends for most of their lives.  My dad described Uncle Harry as more of a brother than a friend.  I’m not sure how, or where, they met.  I know they loved and respected one another until their final days.

The beginning of my dad’s journal reads as follows:

Christmas 1995   Please excuse some of the spelling as you all know your dad didn’t do very good in school.

I met your uncle Harry Mac I believe it was around 1938.  We never had much money but whatever we had we would share right down the center.

We dated a lot together with your mom and Aunt Ruth.  At that time Uncle Harry had very little eyesight so when he would get a letter from Aunt Ruth, I would read it for him and add a few extra lines.  He would say, “That’s not really in there.”  And I would say “It sure is”.  

We would always borrow, or should I say rent, a car from one of our friends. But we never paid the rent.

Throughout my childhood, my college years, and beyond I had the opportunity to share time with the three most important men in my life: my dad and my two Uncle Harrys.  Uncle Harry Barner was the younger brother of my mom (Kay) and Aunt Ruth.  When they spoke, I listened.  I didn’t always follow their advice, but I knew they always had my best interest at heart.  I think I learned more from the story of their lives than the advice that they offered.  I listened to their words but watched their deeds.

All three men told a similar story that took place when Harry Barner was twelve or thirteen.  My dad and Uncle Harry Mac had gone out on a date with young Harry’s older sisters, Kate and Ruth.  They had spent the evening dancing and drinking beer.   I expect that the girls did most of the dancing and the guys consumed most of the beer.  In any case, after everyone returned to the girl’s home a dangerous storm hit the area.  My grandfather consented to allowing the two suitors to spend the night so that they would remain safe.  There was one condition.  They had to share a bed with young Harry and Harry was charged to insure that his two elders remained with him throughout the night.

They went to bed with Harry Barner sandwiched between his two sisters’ boyfriends.  My dad and Uncle Harry Mac were down for the count.  Beer will do that to a fella.  It will also create a great gaseous disruption.  Harry Barner’s version of the story ended with my dad farting on his left, Harry Mac farting on his right,  and him wishing he had a larger bed.

My three wise men operated through a common theme.  Family first.   They worked to ensure that each of their children was ready to face the world, but they expected each child to be able make it on his/her own.

The last time that I was with Uncle Harry Mac and my dad,  I took my dad to visit Uncle Harry in the hospital.  Neither was doing very well.  My dad was in a nursing home and Uncle Harry in the hospital.   The day of our visit Uncle Harry was in rehab.  His daughter, my cousin Ruth Ann, was with him.  As Uncle Harry went through his exercise program, my dad joined him.  They did the same exercises. One was required to participate and the other joined his friend. There were a series of pulls and stretches and a mini obstacle course.   I felt like I was witnessing a mini Olympics.  The final event was a set of three stairs that led to a platform and back down three more on the other side.  After completing the stairway walk they both sat down, side by side, held hands and never said a word.

Within a few weeks both of their conditions deteriorated.  They died ten days apart.  Uncle Harry on June 17  and dad on June 27th.  Those two dates were sandwiched around Father’s Day June 20th, 1999.

Last June Uncle Harry Barner passed.  He turned 89 on June 13th and passed on the 26th.  His birthday and passing fell on both sides of Father’s Day June 18th, 2017.  He was laid to rest on June 30, exactly eighteen years to the day that we buried my dad.

I had the honor of serving as a pallbearer for each of these men.  It was tough duty but an important part of my life.  I helped carry each of these uncommon men to a common field.

I’m thankful for the lessons they taught me and the stories that they’ve shared.  I think on this Father’s Day they would want me to share their most important life lesson which was … each of us should do our best to live a good story.