My uncle was sort of like my dad and grandfather.  He was my dad's oldest
brother.  Not only did we call him Uncle Fred, but everybody in the
neighborhood and everybody whoever got to know him.  He lived with us the
passed 9 years of his life and nearly made it to 92 years of age.  He was a
great man.  Never got beyond the 8th grade.  Took over the farm as a
teenager when their dad died which was 2 months before my father was born.
His funeral arrangements had been paid for many years ago, before he moved
to Denver to live with us, so when he passed away, his body was sent back to
Kansas and some of my cousins had a small graveside service there.  He was a
very meek man, hardly ever told jokes, and I can count on one hand the
number of times he became upset.  Even then, his getting upset and my
getting upset cannot be compared.  Well, on a scale of 1 to ten, Uncle Fred
would be a 1 and I would be a ten.  For his funeral, memorial service, here
in Denver, all my sisters and their families came over.  My mom was still
alive.  A couple of friends that knew him came by, too.  We sat and told
stories about Uncle Fred.  I learned things about him I had never heard
before and it was the coolest funeral I had ever been in.  We laughed and
all the crying was held until everyone in the room said something about what
they remember about Uncle Fred.  I wish we would have at least recorded it
because it was wonderful.  He was the most unusual man I ever knew.

Phil.