Fond Memories of John.

Uncle John - the man who called me "lass"; Who seemed 10' tall when I looked up as a 5 year-old; Who told me to "eat your crusts so your hair will curl" (just like his!); Who let me (thinking he was asleep) paint his face with chocolate some Sunday mornings and yell with surprise when he went to shave - sending me into peals of laughter; Who, for quite a while, managed to steal chips from my plate whenever they were on the menue; Who, on some occasions, took me with him for the day in his BIG TRUCK to get sand or blue metal - goodness knows how he put up with the chatter; Who, on those occasions, fascinated me by waving to other truckies by just lifting his index finger off the steering wheel - they would return the gesture; Who had a big part in teaching me to drive. He had nerves of steel. At first, I would take both hands off the wheel so I could change gears and give a hand signal - no blinkers then - he never flinched; Who always had a dance with me at a Cumberland "do"; Who was a grandfather-figure to my children; Who was very loving and caring.