This is my uncle Albert. He was born in 1925 and died today, at the age of 88. He is the reason that I read and that I have an urge to learn how things work. I was fortunate enough to spend all of my formative years with him on the farm, as he had retired from the National Weather Service and was around a lot.
I hope that I never forget the lessons that he taught me or how to be as resilient as he was. I know that I’ll never forget the day he came to the back door after cutting off part of one of his fingers while trying to start the hay baler. Cool as a cucumber, he told me to go get my mother. Then, he took the time to answer some childish questions, made some small talk, and finally reminded me to go get my mother; albeit in a sterner tone.
He was awesome. I’ll miss him forever.