My Uncle Charlie
Uncle Charlie has always been my
favorite uncle. He is my fishing,
hunting, and drinking Uncle. Not that
he drinks that much, he just likes to take a drink now and then. I got to go with him on a lot of fishing and
hunting trips and he was the first person to trust me enough to drive a
car. Pretty damned amazing when you
consider that I was about eleven (He might even have had a drink on that
occasion!). Charlie was born in Bonham.
Texas. July 14th, 1911. His
real name is Charles Wesley Hayes but about the only people who called him
Charles were immediate family. Everyone
else called him Charlie. He worked in
the cotton mill in Bonham from the time he was a kid. After World War II, during which he served as a gunnery corporal
in the raging Pacific island campaigns, he came back to Bonham and went back to
work in the mill. My uncle J.T. had
become a member of the Boiler Makers Union and told Charlie he was going to
work himself to death in the cotton mill if he didn't leave. The conditions were terrible.
With an offer from
Rocky, J.T.'s nickname, Charlie and his wife Bert moved to Arizona, where
Charlie became a boilermaker. From
eking out a living in the cottonmill to making a generous wage doing steel work
and being outside, Charlie thrived. He
retired in the sixties and moved to Lake Texoma where he and Bert built a small
house near the lake where he could hunt and fish. He's been there for nearly 35 years and during those years has
hunted, fished, learned to make whisky, and has made and kept an uncountable
number of friends. He has cooked tons
of fish, told outrageous lies, attended Masonic meetings, and lost his beloved
wife Bert.
Through it all he has
kept his wonderful sense of humor and level-headedness. I have never known him to be truly angry at
any human being. He is considerate,
loving, and kind. His wit is as sharp
as anyone's I've ever met. He is a
humorous and funny man. He can look you
in the eye and tell you the biggest lies ever made from whole cloth and never
crack a smile. He and my dad were a lot
alike. Dad just didn't have a long
life. Life is like that.
Through everything that has happened
in his life, Charlie has taken it all in stride. The ups and downs are just part of living to him. He enjoys himself, always, to the fullest
extent. He never complains and has a
grin as big as Texas all the time. If I
were granted one wish, it would be that I could be more like him. I know it can't be, because there is only
room enough for one like him in life. I
love him like my dad, who died so young.
I have more than enough wonderful memories of him to last me another
lifetime.
He's the last of his generation of
Hayes'. He will be 89 years old July 14th this year (2000) and is as
healthy as the proverbial horse. He
gets a little forgetful now and again, but so do I. He still has an interest in everything that goes on around him
and wants to be right in the middle of it.
His joy for living has never flagged.
This page is my way of honoring a truly remarkable human being.
Uncle Charlie and Karen at my
birthday party benefit
for Arkansas Childrens Hospital, at
Shug's
(Charles Hayes
died Wednesday, May 14th 2003 , two months short of his
92nd birthday.
He is sorely
missed by all who knew and loved him.)