RIP Uncle Walter

Uncle Walter died quietly last week at the age of 98.

he was still driving at the age of 96. never had a girlfriend. never watched television. lived in the spring house (no heat, electricity, etc) most of his life, and ate a baked apple and potato every day (which he put on top of the coal stove in the morning).

he died with over a million dollars in assets.

convinced in the 50's to purchase a thousand dollars of BFGoodrich stock, which he never touched.

before his death, he had already been robbed of 300 grand (120 of which went to vegas with a nephew a few months ago...never to be seen again. the money, that is. the nephew came back with his tail between his legs and very likely some permanent organ damage).

after going through several untrustworthy nephews as executers of his estate...he was left with Emerson holding the bag.

Emerson, apparently, is a cold hearted bastard and is not arranging for a funeral. now, poor uncle walter's church friends have no way of paying their last respects. upon insistent pressure from family members, Emerson the cuntox relented and agreed to a graveside service. ie. what they give murderes and John Does.

my family is pissed...

and already fighting over money.

I'm just glad I'm entirely too far down the line to ever see a dime, so I can stay as disentangled as possible.

I'll be digging out some of my favorite pictures of Uncle Walter tonight...

and making copies for the people who seemed to actually care about him.


crotchety old coot that he was...

he always made me laugh.

Rest In Peace, Uncle Walter...

eventually, they'll stop fighting.