“Go get us a couple of
popsicles Bobby” my uncle commanded. I
dutifully took a break from the heat of the roof on his house on American Ave
and completed the assignment…Just like a 100 times before. We sat in the shade and enjoyed the cool
refreshing treat and didn’t say a word to each other. Once we finished it was back up the ladder to
pour more hot tar on that July day. I am
not sure if popsicles were a lifelong obsession with Wayne, but, that summer of
1977 we went through several packs a day.
As for the conversation (or lack thereof)? If you asked that, you really didn’t know my
uncle. He and I communicated on many
levels…words were not one of them.
Life is funny. Sometimes,
random memories of the departed come back and remind us of important people in
our lives.
My Uncle was an
important man in my life. My father
passed when I was 14 of heart disease. A
disease I battle today. As a maturing teenager,
I worked for my uncle that summer and learned valuable lessons about being a
man. Lessons I didn’t realize till later in my life, but lessons I value and
try to emulate every day.
TV at the Goff
house consisted of John Wayne and sports.
I truly believed that Wayne’s TV set only had those 2 channels. My Uncle loved the Duke. So much so I thought his gait was right out of
“The searchers” or “Rio Bravo”. With a cowboy
hat and boots, the transformation was complete.
On occasion, he would
buy a huge roast beef carved to his specifications by the local butcher and
invite the entire family to a backyard BBQ.
He fashioned a rotisserie, and the slow roasted over coals beef was
delicious. Plates overflowing with salads, chips and countless other side dishes
made for a perfect afternoon. Everyone
left the event full of food and great memories that can only happen when families
celebrate life together.
My uncle was not a
religious man so he really turned my world upside down when he showed me his
BYU Cougar Club plaque. However, he was
a huge Jim McMahon fan and I guess the chance to buy better seats in cougar
stadium overcame any feelings he may have had about contributing to “another nonprofit
institution” He loved watching McMahon and the cougar’s play so much he invited
me to join him and his son Marty to travel to the Holiday bowl. Of course in typical Uncle Wayne fashion…all
expenses paid.
The next morning, we
drove to Tijuana. At the border, Wayne insisted that I drive the new Chrysler
Le Baron into Mexico because “I knew the language”. I somehow survived the drive to a parking
garage and after a gratuity to the attendant to ensure the vehicle was there
when we returned we walked along the market street vendors and looked for souvenirs. Suddenly Wayne’s eyes lit up and his face beamed
ear to ear with a huge smile. He slowly lifted a buckskin “Kit Carson” scout
jacket. As we examined the coat
sparkling with rhinestones and tasseled sleeves, memories of a childhood long
forgotten must have flooded his mind because he determined he must have that
jacket. I dutifully engaged the shop owner in price negotiations and after 10
minutes was unable to get him to budge on the price…I guess he could also see
the glint of childhood Wayne’s eyes and felt he had a sure sale. We left and returned twice over the next 3
hours to renegotiate and after moving the price from $80 to $20 dollars My
uncle returned to adulthood and said….what do I need a “Kit Carson” jacket for?
The owner followed us for two blocks screaming every profanity in the Spanish language
at us….Wayne just chuckled as I tried to calm the man….In retrospect, I think he just enjoyed listening to me speak
a foreign language.
The Holiday Bowl was
great and “Jimbo” and the cougars won so the long drive home was enjoyable. After a food stop in Las Vegas he played
blackjack and won $500. Unlike me, He
always seemed to win at the tables.
One of best memories
and the most important lesson I learned from my Uncle happened during a family
vacation. In 1984, I had just returned
from Army Basic Training and decided to take my young family to Disneyland. On the drive home an ominous blue smoke began
to trail the old Toyota Corona. With little money remaining and no credit card,
I stopped, bought a case of oil and decided drive straight through to Utah to
get the worn out car home. We had to
stop twice on the drive from LA to Barstow to refill the oil and wait for the
engine to cool down. A normal 90 minute
drive stretched into 5 hours as we hobbled across the desert.
Our luck turned worse in
Barstow as flash floods had closed I-15 from Barstow to Las Vegas leaving two
solutions, spend the night and try to cross the desert during the heat of the
next day or take s a 4 hour detour thru Needles, Lake Havasu and Boulder to
Vegas. Knowing we were out of money and
a surety the car would not make across the desert in daylight, we turned south
towards Needles.
Fifty miles, stop, add
two quarts of oil, repeat had become the pattern. At a gas station somewhere on the way I sent
my wife and my young daughter Betsy in with a few remaining dollars to buy some
drinks and oil…hopefully enough to complete the trip.
Imagine my surprise
when she returned with my Uncle Wayne and Aunt Effie following them. Wayne knew we were out of money he immediately
said “we are following you till you get home”.
He didn’t judge. He didn’t ask
how or why, he just stepped in and helped
We made it to Vegas,
Wayne paid for our room. The car died,
he called and paid for the tow service.
I told him I had no idea how I was ever going to pay him for all the
money he had just laid out on my behalf…He looked deeply into my eyes and said “I
don’t want to hear another word about it..Everyone has hard times and it’s up
to family to help you out if they can…”
I have tried to
calculate the odds of meeting them at a random gas station on a detour at 11:00PM at night…you can’t. My Aunt said they didn’t really need to stop
for anything…they just did…Maybe my uncle was more in tune with spiritual things than I realized...
Time finally caught up
with my Uncle and Alzheimer’s began to take its vicious toll. I do not think I
have recovered from his death but I am grateful he didn’t have to deal with
that terrible disease any longer. Somehow through the last stage of his life…
He still managed to keep his dignity. It
was difficult to watch a man who worked every day of his life and always put
his family first lose touch with reality.
Yet there were a few
precious moments, when lucidity returned and that gleam returned to his eyes..I
could almost hear home barking out “Go get us a couple of popsicles Bobby”
