Uncle Wally

The American Legion began its mission in 1920 to protect the veterans of The Great War. There was not going to be a repeat of the Civil War in the treatment given to vets at the time. Those guys were sent home and forgotten. The Grand Army of the Republic did its best to assist the veterans. They were successful up to a point. That point was that the Civil War vets were dying off. The Legion was meant to be a great successor. They would lobby Congress to establish help for the Veterans as soon as they returned home, but first, a license to sell booze. They would be able to sell beer more cheaply than anywhere else. Somebody forgot about the prohibition of alcohol in the United States. So it was claimed. The guys may have been too drunk to remember to check that out, or, just as likely, forgot they were supposed to. The real reason was that they thought they wouldn’t be bothered. You know, the war and all. No one in the Federal government said that was going to happen. In fact,they changed the Constitution to do that. Well, that didn’t work out. The Legion almost disappeared when that didn’t happen. Then they came back strong. Cheap beer always wins.

For my family, the Legion’s role didn’t just stay on the sidelines. Some of my uncles and cousins joined the local post as members after returning from WWII. Prohibition was repealed. The post itself was a place where our relatives went to drink. As such, they could also put in a bar and sell beer at a lower cost than other bars could or would. The motto was “Come on here, really cheap beer.” They no sooner opened than it closed.

My brother Richard, whom everyone called Dickie Bird, and I would occasionally go there for a beer. I wasn’t a member. He was called Dockie Bird as a joke, but it caught on. I was 4-F'd. It was, “You want to enlist with those ears.(I was mostly deaf ). You want to get in with those eyes?(I was born with one bad eye and one that was useless on a good day). The thing of it was that it was assumed I was allowed in due to y having a very large family. 18 on Father’s side, a big family, they would crowd any place they went. No one checked my membership card. Well, moving along. Dickie Bird was called Dickie Bird because he didn’t like it when someone called him that. We took up the challenge. It was like when he didn’t like Dick. Of course, he didn’t. He was one, but he didn’t like being called one. He wanted to be called Rick. That was a failure.

“Wally!” my brother called.

“Uncle Wally!” I said.

Wally almost looked up when he heard that. Almost, but didn’t. He probably hoped we were figments of his imagination. We never were. He may have thought we were when the beer started to be tasteless. That would be because of the numbness after one too many. Sometimes we would pretend we were, to make him happy. He was in his normal slouched look. He wasn’t drunk; it was the way he always looked. He’d drink beer until his chin hit the beer mug. Then he knew it was time to go home. We were the last thing he needed when he drank beer. We were the last thing he needed, period. “I’ve told you two that I’m not your Uncle. I’m your cousin. No. Hold on here for a minute. I married your cousin.I'm not a blood relative, thank God.”

“Yeah, Wally. Bring God into it. You know which side He’d be on. Maybe he didn’t give us to you because you’re a nice guy.”

Dickie Bird said,“So, you’re what? What are you? Our cousin-in-law?”

“We can’t say hello to you?” I asked

“Sure, I’d love to talk to you guys, I’d love a call fron you.”

He was a Republican working in a steel mill in a Democratic town, with his party’s convention once held on his back porch. He ran for mayor, losing by a wide margin, and liked to tease that my family voted for him—even when they didn’t.

He was a character. He was a Republican in a steel mill, an iron casting plant, in a Democratic town. The party used to have its convention on Wally's back porch. He ran for mayor once. He didn't get 7 i enough votes to win, to say the least. My family voted for me.” No, they didn't. He knew that, but they went along with him. They used to put Democratic posters on the trees in front of his house. They also spread the word that he was a closet Democrat. Wally was too nice to really get pissed off by it. That took a lot of the fun out of it.

As we left, we said, “See you around, Uncle Wally.”

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I've never met a Mormon I didn't like. They're really nice people. They're so Disney. They're so Rodgers and Hammerstein. Trey Parker

I like nice people, I don't like nasty people, but I like somebody that's not a pushover. Lady Colin Campbell

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I'm kind of a Midwestern snob. I think we're just nice people and have a great work ethic. Carol Bartz