Uncle Lee
My Grandma and Grandpa named him Leland, the first of three sons whose names started with the letter "L." Most people called him Lee. I called him my uncle.
He had lived on borrowed time for years, or so it seemed. In spite of several chronic health issues, and one serious fall from the top of a t-a-l-l ladder, he apparently took lessons from the Energizer Bunny, or maybe a Timex watch. He certainly "took a licking and kept on ticking."
And, Uncle Lee lived his life to the fullest. Married to Rose for 61 years, he was a father to five, grandfather, and even great-grandfather, to quite a few more. He had been a teacher; I'm sure that he was a good one. He also worked as a principal, a pastoral assistant, a grocer, a house painter, and an investment representative. He was a community leader, a cub scout leader, a leader in his church. He kept a stack of good, clean joke books in his living room, so he would always be ready to speak to a group of people. He once told me that every good speech needs at least one good joke.
He and most of his six siblings grew up during the depression, first in South Dakota, then in northeastern Nebraska, near Bloomfield. His dad farmed the best he could during such hard times. One time, I overheard Uncle Lee and Dad discussing some special event that had happened when their family went to town. One of them reminded the other that he didn't get to go along that time because "it was your turn to wear the shoes." The boys in the family became expert marksmen out of necessity. They needed to hunt for rabbits and deer, and anything else they could find, so the family could eat.
As long as I can remember, Lee and Rose joined my folks and several other family members up at the ranch near Gordon, to carry on the hunting tradition that had started so many years ago. Lee was a hard worker, who trained his children to work hard, too. It seemed like Lee always had some project going on at the ranch--painting or repairing the outbuildings or the main house. Until recent years, he was able to walk for miles when he was hunting. His asthma was a hindrance that rankled, sometimes a lot, but he didn't let it stop him from doing the things he loved.
Because of his asthma, Lee had never been able to work as a farmer. But he and Rose bought part of the "home place" near Bloomfield, the part that his Aunt Ella had inherited from her father, right next to the farm where Lee grew up. Lee and Rose raised horses, of course, and donkeys, and sheep, and chickens, and countless cats, and those noisy guineas that they both loved.
One of my favorite memories of Lee happened at Christmas time, at Grandpa and Grandma's new house in Norfolk. The whole family was gathered in the basement to celebrate. For some reason, my cousin, Deb, and I were standing at the top of the stairs when Lee came around the corner, dressed in a red Santa suit and fluffy, white beard. We were old enough to recognize him easily. He put his finger to his lips, said "shhhh," and whispered to us to not tell the little ones who he really was. Then, he adjusted his beard, rang the bell in his hand, and headed down the basement steps, ho-ho-ho-ing all the way.
Lee's strong faith saw him through during the hardest times, when he and Rose lost a daughter, then, a few years later, another daughter. As his health declined, Lee was looking forward to heaven, where he would meet his Savior face to face, and see his girls again.
He had lived on borrowed time for years, or so it seemed. In spite of several chronic health issues, and one serious fall from the top of a t-a-l-l ladder, he apparently took lessons from the Energizer Bunny, or maybe a Timex watch. He certainly "took a licking and kept on ticking."
And, Uncle Lee lived his life to the fullest. Married to Rose for 61 years, he was a father to five, grandfather, and even great-grandfather, to quite a few more. He had been a teacher; I'm sure that he was a good one. He also worked as a principal, a pastoral assistant, a grocer, a house painter, and an investment representative. He was a community leader, a cub scout leader, a leader in his church. He kept a stack of good, clean joke books in his living room, so he would always be ready to speak to a group of people. He once told me that every good speech needs at least one good joke.
He and most of his six siblings grew up during the depression, first in South Dakota, then in northeastern Nebraska, near Bloomfield. His dad farmed the best he could during such hard times. One time, I overheard Uncle Lee and Dad discussing some special event that had happened when their family went to town. One of them reminded the other that he didn't get to go along that time because "it was your turn to wear the shoes." The boys in the family became expert marksmen out of necessity. They needed to hunt for rabbits and deer, and anything else they could find, so the family could eat.
As long as I can remember, Lee and Rose joined my folks and several other family members up at the ranch near Gordon, to carry on the hunting tradition that had started so many years ago. Lee was a hard worker, who trained his children to work hard, too. It seemed like Lee always had some project going on at the ranch--painting or repairing the outbuildings or the main house. Until recent years, he was able to walk for miles when he was hunting. His asthma was a hindrance that rankled, sometimes a lot, but he didn't let it stop him from doing the things he loved.
Because of his asthma, Lee had never been able to work as a farmer. But he and Rose bought part of the "home place" near Bloomfield, the part that his Aunt Ella had inherited from her father, right next to the farm where Lee grew up. Lee and Rose raised horses, of course, and donkeys, and sheep, and chickens, and countless cats, and those noisy guineas that they both loved.
One of my favorite memories of Lee happened at Christmas time, at Grandpa and Grandma's new house in Norfolk. The whole family was gathered in the basement to celebrate. For some reason, my cousin, Deb, and I were standing at the top of the stairs when Lee came around the corner, dressed in a red Santa suit and fluffy, white beard. We were old enough to recognize him easily. He put his finger to his lips, said "shhhh," and whispered to us to not tell the little ones who he really was. Then, he adjusted his beard, rang the bell in his hand, and headed down the basement steps, ho-ho-ho-ing all the way.
Lee's strong faith saw him through during the hardest times, when he and Rose lost a daughter, then, a few years later, another daughter. As his health declined, Lee was looking forward to heaven, where he would meet his Savior face to face, and see his girls again.
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| Aunt Rose and Uncle Lee Vawser |
Lee was a big man, larger than life, really; he was a good friend to many, and the patriarch of his family. We will miss him.
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