My Uncle Bill!

In my childhood, my Dad’s Indiana family was a long and infrequent trip away. The Beck family in Indiana was large. Five children were spread over the depression years, My uncle Bill was on the older side. My Dad was on the younger side of the family. Bill was one of the older brothers. Bill was of prime age for WW2. He went into the Navy and saw action in the pacific. Searching around in the family documents which we inherited when my folks passed away was a cruise book from Bill’s cruise during the end of the war. His carrier was engaged during the kamikaze attack on his carrier. The book listed the killed and missing. Over a thousand lost. My uncle was a combat veteran. And when Vietnam became unavoidable for me Bill suggested the navy, His advice most likely saved my life. Life is funny. When I saw his picture in that cruise book I saw his rating patch was the same as mine.. We were both fire-control techs, And we both ended up in the same job after the navy. We both did instrumentation after the navy. We both worked in the industrial instrument business. We both worked in chemical plants.

The reason I remember Bill now was thinking about how similar we are even in our differences. There were stories of the Beck boys riding the rails looking for work during the depression. As the war came along Bill went into the navy. My dad went into the Army out of college ROTC. Walter and Ivan were exempted for medical reasons. Their sister Mary Ellen lost her life a victim of domestic violence before it became fashionable. All these stories form the fabric of my early years. Somehow all these paths added color and shadow to my journey,

Fast forward to Bill being old in Terra Haute. Age had finally caught up with Bill. My Dad took over stewardship of Bill. My brother or I would accompany my dad who was old on his visits from New England to Indiana. On my visit, we went to the place where my uncle was cared for. When we came out of the elevator to the floor where Bill lived. the first thing I heard was my Uncle Bill’s booming voice swearing-in frustration. That was me in days to come booming my voice too loud and sometimes without thought.

The paradox of life is how we can be so different and yet so similar to be beyond coincidence. I identify with my uncle Bill. I wish I could tell him so. He was a gentleman hiding behind a rough facade.