Uncle Earl

Uncle Earl was a Captain.

Uncle Earl was a character. My earliest memories of him are a mish-mash of sights, sounds, sensations, and smells that are probably the most vivid I have from childhood. When I close my eyes, I can still hear grandma’s porch door slam shut behind him, the refrigerator door creak open, and I can see the blue pitcher full of that magical substance I grew to love called sweet, iced tea go straight from her pitcher to his throat in one fell swoop. Soon the glass cookie jar would ring as he set the lid back on it and that is when the fun started. Uncle Earl was home.

Uncle Earl was a storyteller. Depending on the weather or the mood or what was caught, the stories from that day might be told around the table, the front porch, or standing around a pile of oyster shells, the only remainders of the creatures he consumed with nothing more than a pocketknife and what I remember as a bottle of hot sauce but it might have just been salt. I can still hear some of the words that peppered every story no matter what it was about, for which he alone holds the only copyright to: buddy, and ‘directly’.

Uncle Earl was a historian. He made the history of our family come alive for me. He was still our connection to the sea, to the ways of our family that carved a space out of the Florida Panhandle into one of the most prized locations on earth. His stories of Destin’s past and his present voyages with tourists on the waters of the gulf will never be forgotten. I remember looking at his big, rough hands as he told his stories about deckhands and tourists, human nature and the sea, and I still remember marveling at the way his eyebrows always went up at the end of almost story with the “now buddy” finale. I know my love of being near the water grew in great part to spending time around it with him and my father on our frequent trips to Destin.

Uncle Earl was an eater. I like to think that my genuine appreciation of food and the people that make it came in part from him. As long as I live, I will never walk down a cafeteria line without picturing him in my mind’s eye holding up two fingers, and watching the magic happen: fried chicken emerging just like he liked it in record time. The best part came after the chicken landed on his plate, and that was the way he treated people. The line-staff who served his chicken as quickly as they could for the “Captain” were treated with the same respect as royalty. Everywhere he went Uncle Earl treated people the same and in return he is one of the most widely beloved individuals I have ever known.

Uncle Earl was a citizen of the world. As a little girl, I remember feeling confused about how such a ‘salt-of-the-earth’, hard-working seafarer in a small town like Destin found such a beautiful English Lady who sounded quite like a Queen to me and built such a wonderful life with her. I remember hearing his humorous stories of their travels to England when no one else in the family even had a passport. His travels were as unusual and exciting to me the same way his surprising love of diamond rings and bracelets were. I remember noticing how strange and yet perfectly fitting those diamonds used to look on top of his weather-beaten knuckles, almost like a pearl in one of the oysters he shucked.

Uncle Earl was a blessing. When I grew up and had the gift of a visit from him and my father to my home in New York City, I became fully aware that this character, this uncle I grew up admiring and being fascinated by for as long as I could remember was a gift from God to me and to everyone that knew and loved him.

Uncle Earl was a teacher of how to be the captain of our souls. I pray that the beauty of his life will continue to grow inside of all of us for Uncle Earl was a gentle, God-loving man who was always at home whether it was water or land beneath his feet. He was at home because he was at peace with the world around him, and with the world within him. There are very few people of which that can be said. Yes, our Uncle Earl was as comfortable on the sea as he was on the subway, in England as in Destin, on the dock as at the wheel, alone as with a crowd, in a plane (as he recently demonstrated) or on a boat. As we say goodbye to him, he will continue to be as comfortable in the memories and hearts of those of us who loved him and may we continue to celebrate his life by the way we live our own, at peace on the inside and the outside.

 -Rest In Peace Uncle Earl

January 3, 2012