Those of you that read this regular series know that I am from Hackett, Arkansas, just a mile of so from the Oklahoma border, and just about 10 miles south of the Arkansas River. It was a redneck sort of place, and just zoom onto my previous posts to understand a bit about it.
I never write about living people except with their express permission, but since he is long gone, he is fair game. He was not really an uncle, but rather was my great uncle, the brother to my paternal grandfather. I always called him Uncle Bill, but did not know him very well, and hardly at all until his old age.
Uncle Bill was always nice to me, and I liked that. When I grew to know him, he lived in the little, shabby rent house up the street.