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Sherman's Tribute to Uncle Randy

Randa Hoy Stahl
February 16, 1917 -- October 30, 2006

In the 70’s I got to know and love Uncle Randy and Aunt Louise when I worked for Sears as an appliance repairman.  I would go to Plainview on Thursday’s and work service calls all up and down the valley and in the mountains.  Aunt Louise would have lunch cooked for me (and Elmer) and we would get to know each other better and enjoy the pot roast or lintel soup or whatever it was that day.  Whatever it was, it was good.     

I asked Uncle Randy to ride with me on some service calls, (give Aunt Louise a rest).  When you work on the same appliances and have the same problems day in and day out, one knows when you hear a refrigerator fan motor squealing, the fan motor is bad and it takes about that long to troubleshoot it.  But, to Uncle Randy this was amazing to him, it was magic.  One day we walked into a house (I had asked him not to talk too much to the customers) he went straight over and stood by the customer and told him, “I’ll tell you one thing right now, they sent the best out here today, if Sherman can’t fix this dryer, you shouldn’t have bought the piece of junk in the first place, that’s all I got to say about that”.    Thanks for the compliment. He also reminded me I was working by the hour and I didn’t have to drive so fast. 

Uncle Randy loved to be outside.  He loved his garden.  He loved his yard and flowers.  He even wanted to go with us (Virgil, Danny, Tommy and myself) into the mountains one day to rob bee trees for the honey.   We had told him about how we did it and how much honey we got and he just had to go, so of course, we took him.  He showed up in a pair of dress shoes with leather soles, he would walk one step and slide back two.  Virgil, the mountain man, gave Uncle Randy his shoes and Virgil wore Uncle Randy’s.  Uncle Randy was no fool, he stayed back from the tree about 50 yards as we cut the tree and started robbing the tree.  After seeing the bees were tamed down and not stinging us, he kept moving up a little at a time until he was right in there with us, getting the honey.  He made the statement that no one would believe him if he told them what he had done that day. 

Speaking of telling someone….I can see in my mind's eye, a person in the hereafter, a listener, which has been waiting for a long, long time for someone to talk to them so they can do what they love doing, Listen.  The wait is over, Uncle Randy is there and doing what he loved to do, Talk, not necessarily listen, but to TALK. 

Uncle Randy did Love to talk.  He had no problem in telling you how he felt about something or what he thought about this or that.  He would, however, ask you what you thought or how you felt about something,  But, of course, he would answer his own question before you said a word. 

After being convinced by Uncle Randy, to take him fishing, Marilyn and I picked him up at his house, about 7:00 a.m. and went to Lake Nimrod.  He started talking when we picked him up and didn’t stop talking until we dropped him off and we said goodbye – at 7:00 that night.  

Uncle Randy, we all loved you just the way you were, looking forward to talking to you one day.    

Sherman

 

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