Saturday, June 29, 2013


Yesterday Cliff and I attended my late nephew Jack’s burial ceremony at the Sacramento Valley National Cemetery at Dixon, California, about 90 miles from here. Jack, who had been in the Air Force, had been cremated, and his remains placed here.

What I want to tell you about are his offspring.  Jack had a daughter by his first marriage, and two sons by his second with Linda. All three are  “Friends” on Facebook, but I have not seen any of them in some years as they all live some distance from me.

When Jeffrey first saw me, he waved and called out, “Hi, uncle Don.” There is no mistaking Jeff. He is a tall, rather hefty individual.

At the cemetery office, the only air-conditioned space in the vicinity, I was sitting in my scooter, when daughter Brenda came up to me and said, “Do you know who I am?” I said, “You’re Brenda.” That was an easy one because I see her photo on Facebook.

Then another tall fellow came over and stood in front of me, but did not say a word.  He just stood there, grinning. I almost said, “Hello, Jack.” But what I did say was, “You’re Jim.”  James, as he prefers to be called, is a dead ringer for his dad about 30 years ago. He looks like Jack, sounds like his dad, and even moves  as his father did.  If you want to believe in science fiction, standing before me was Jack, 30 years ago, in some kind of time warp. And if that were the case, I don’t know what happened to Jim.

Shortly thereafter, a rather attractive blonde lady came up to me and said, “Are you uncle Don?” “Yes, I am,”  I responded. I had no idea what ever who this lady was. Turned out she was an old friend of Jack’s from at least 30 years ago (maybe more) when Jack and Linda lived in an apartment building in Sunnyvale. As a matter of fact, the mobile home in which I now live is just over the fence from the apartments in which Jack and Linda then lived. Amazing!

Humor?  You want humor?

Later, at the restaurant where we held a Celebration of Life, I said, among other things, this: Jack’s mother was a storyteller; Jack was a storyteller; and I am a story teller. This gathering reminds me of a particular story.
Old George was invited to a dinner honoring some person or event. When he got there, he saw that there were several hundred people in attendance, and it appeared that he didn’t know anybody. In addition he was seated next to a Chinese gentlemen, and George had no idea how to talk with him. Finally he turned the Chinese fellow and said, “Likee soupee?” The Chinese gentleman turned to George, but did not say a word.

When dinner was over, it was time for the featured speaker of the evening, and that turned out to be the Chinese gentleman. He gave a stirring speech in flawless English, and when he was finished, was greeted with a standing ovation. Then he returned to the dinner table, turned to George, and said, “Likee speechee?”


  1. I'm glad I got to meet Jack that one time, and my best wishes to all of you.

  2. Sounds like Jack will be missed by many lovely family members and friends.