I recently learned of the passing of my biological father, Jim. I didn’t know him. My parents divorced shortly after I was born, and I have no memory of him. I did have weeklong visits with his mother Olga, my grandmother, on many occasions as a child. She was such a sweet person, and I always regretted losing touch with her. She lived on a big farm near Loveland, Ohio. We ate vanilla ice cream with Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup, waited for the woodchuck to make an appearance in the large wood pile, and watched the distant fireworks at King’s Island from the porch every night before bed. It was peaceful.
Growing up, thoughts of my father occasionally crossed my mind. I’ve always been a fairly matter-of-fact person and never the type to go searching for long-lost relatives. There was little chance I’d ever show up on his doorstep and say, “Hi dad, good to know ya!” I knew he was a ham radio operator, but that was about the extent of it.
Recently, his brother Dave contacted me to inform me of his passing. He shared many details about my father’s life. In addition to ham radio, Jim was a member of an early computer programming club, participated in a program to reintroduce Peregrine Falcons to his city, manned a suicide hotline, built his own telescopes and lenses, produced shows for Municipal Cable TV, held a private pilot’s license and owned several Cessna aircraft, and even owned two farms. He had an impressive chemistry set as a child and eventually became a Pharmacist by profession.
It seems that he and I shared a lot of similarities on a more abstract level, even if a lot of the details were different. It begs the age-old question of genetics vs. environment. But either way, there’s something comforting in knowing that.
I’m happy that his brother, my uncle, was good enough to share some of his history with me. It turned a fairly cold and empty picture of him into something a little more connecting and endearing. Something human. It’s a shame there isn’t much to find on the Internet about him. I guess it isn’t typical for someone of his generation to worry much about having an online presence, so it makes sense. But still, he seemed like a fascinating guy. RIP KE8PN SK.
Epilogue
After that exchange with my newly-found Uncle Dave, we traded one more email. I mentioned that if he ever wanted to casually share the same kinds of stories about himself or about his other two brothers, I’d love to hear them. I also have faint childhood memories of the other two uncles and it would have been interesting to have a bigger picture of the family’s history. When some time passed without a reply, I just assumed our brief connection had reached its natural close.
A few weeks later, I learned that Dave himself had passed away after some time in the hospital. He had been an engineer, known for being helpful and generous with his time. A facilitator by nature, as evidenced by this situation. Like my father Jim, there’s little to be found online about him. It seems a shame that such interesting people leave such a quiet legacy.
