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 (Left)
My sister-in-law Jody and brother Ron at nephew Judson's wedding, June 22, 2002.
Ron was already a teenager
by the time I first remember his trying to teach me baseball -- with a plastic glove and a
huge wooden softball bat! By the time I was in grade school, he was working for Dad
during the day, sometimes working nights at General Cable in Monticello, and spending the
other evenings cruising -- in the 60's he had three Corvairs (one a '66 Monza and one rare
Corvair side-ramp pickup!) Later he had a 427 SuperSport Caprice (or was it
an Impala?) loaded with accessories. (He said that's what Jody liked most -- she
said it was his hairy chest.) The one I remember most was the 396 El Camino SS with
the chrome slotted wheels -- and that was his work truck!
 (Right)
Probably the last photo of the three brothers together
-- Mark, Ron and Norman.
Of course, we never did show him the error of his ways by
being a Cub fan, but there were plenty of Cub-Cardinal games to discuss. I got to
work with Ronnie at "the shed" (that's another story) during the summers and
after school from the time I was 14 until Dad retired in 1973. Then Ron bought the
business and he was my boss for the next four years.
That almost came to an end in 1974, though -- this is where
the "walking miracle" part comes in. After some severe storms in late May,
Ronnie was on a ladder with a chain saw cutting a large branch at my parent's house.
As I was steadying the ladder, Ron cut through the branch -- and then it happened.
As the branch was nearly sawn through, it cracked and the "leafy" end,
full of wet leaves, started to bend down. As he finished the cut, the rest of the
branch followed it. As the leafy end reached the ground, it bent, then recoiled and
"sprung" the cut end back toward us. It just missed, but left me holding
two pieces of broken ladder -- one on the ground and one in the air -- and Ron was on the
wrong end.
He fell in front of me, backside first on the grass, but full
force with his head on the sidewalk. After six hours of surgery, we had little
hope. The doctors credited his good health and excellent physical shape (and a lot
of prayers) with saving his life. After a month in a coma and nearly two months of
mood swings and volatile, unpredictable behavior, he -- as he said -- "woke up"
and wondered why the newspaper in his room said "August" when it had just been
May a day or two before. Less than two months of physical therapy later, he was
home.
Steadily, as more of his memory returned, Ron even returned
to the business. Some give me credit for "running" the business while he
was injured -- but I really didn't have a clue. Dad gets the credit for guiding me;
Jody gets the credit for sticking with it (both Ronnie and business); and I learned from
Ronnie what determination really was. Although he now walked with a slight limp, and
sometimes slurred his speech (especially when tired), Ron returned to everyday life --
following sons Jerry and Jeff in sports, running a successful business, and even a
surprise -- daughter Jennifer was born in 1980!
Over the next twenty years, as we all too often do, I moved
away, got busy with life and we didn't see as much of each other as we should have.
We stayed "in touch" -- but even the DeLand Homecoming or Christmases didn't
guarantee we'd see each other. Whenever we did, though, we were never at a loss to
hear the latest on sports, kids, news, cars, trucks, the Cubs, or any other subject he
could talk about. Through the years, Ronnie cultivated an active gift of gab.
I'm glad I got the chance to say "I love you" to
him before his open-heart surgery. I don't think I'd ever spoken those words to him
out loud before. His passing won't stop me from saying it to him again.
I love you, Brother. |
