Upon hearing the news of the death of Gene Wells. A sad dark cloud formed over me. The kind that threatens to cry lonely tears of rain, and who's blowing wind echoed through the corridors of time and memories.
And as the clouds grow darker I begin to reminisce.
The time he got me a Hot Wheels Jaguar car or when my mother and father took me to his home for dinner one night.
He was one of the few who held my mother in high regard and respect.
He taught my father everything he knows from coming to fixing cars. If my dad ever did maintenance for you there was a good chance it was Gene's imprint. For he may of casted a large shadow, but to my father it wasn't living in his shadow" it was dwelling in his glow. Gene carried his own light the he gracefully shinned upon others.
To close this out I want to speak on my favorite uncle Gene story.
Uncle Gene was stationed at Fort Drum while in the service. He was out for a drive one day in his beautiful 1965 Ford Mustang 283 engine he was crusin' jack. Well he soon got the attention of a patrol car. Funny thing was my uncle didn't even notice. By the time he realized that the police wanted to pull him over he was gone! Dusted that poor officer of the law. Yet my uncle being the gentleman he was simply pulled over waited for the patrol car to catch up to him which it did... Eventually.
The two get to talking and Uncle Gene mentions it to the officer about how he thought that the officer had his license plate. The officer laughed and replied "I could barely tell what color you were."
So to my Uncle Gene we love and miss you already. Gone but not forgotten. Enjoy your time with your mom, dad, Aunt Ruthy and Aunt Helen.