I learned about two hours ago that my uncle Jim Crow died this afternoon. Flitting through my mind are so many memories. He, my aunt, and my cousins lived on a ranch in Crows Landing, a town in the Central Valley of California named after his family. When I was growing up, I spent much time at their home. I had parties at the ranch. I kept my horse Tony at the ranch. We typically had Thanksgiving or Christmas each year at the ranch.
Uncle Jim was a quiet man—until he turned about 50 (or was it 40?). Then he began to talk more; no one ever figured out why, but it was good to hear his wise-farmer thoughts.
He was an avid skier, and he and my aunt Beverly Elaine West Crow (I called her Bobby) ran the volunteer ski patrol at Dodge Ridge for many, many years. They had a cabin at nearby Strawberry; there are many Strawberry adventures in those memories I am having this evening.
He skied as part of the 10th Mountain Division in the war. As a result, Jim was a great yodeler. At least once, he built a snow cave outside the cabin and slept in it! War service taught him how to build one that kept him warm.
Two of the memories strongest right now are, first, the times Jim took the kids (my cousins and me, not sure if my sister went along) in a Jeep to places where cars could not go, to ponds where wild trout lived. We would catch a few then come home to cook them for a delicious meal. As a kid used to getting her food from stores and restaurants, eating a fish that I had just caught was an event that has stayed with me for decades.
And I remember that Jim patiently taught me to ski. I tried to find a photo of him and me taken during a lesson. It is somewhere in all my mess of photos, but all I could find tonight was this. (For some reason, there is a bunch of white space below the scanned photo. Sorry. Just scroll on down.)
What an outfit!
The last time I saw my uncle was at my mom's memorial, about a year ago. He was spry, and had added mischievousness to his personality. During that time with him, I often laughed.
So many good memories.
Good-bye, Jim.
Note added later: A close friend, when told about Jim's death, e-mailed, " I remember him as quiet and kind."