My Uncle Errol passed away last week. He was my favorite uncle. I had hoped that I would one day have the honor of eulogizing him when the time came. Due to logistics, time and circumstances, that has not been possible. So, I will honor him as best I can here.
Uncle Errol was a Southern Gentleman in every sense of the word. A son of Texas, he married my mother’s youngest sister, Barbara and in sixty-seven years, they never left one another’s side. Making their home in North Dallas, they raised my cousins Ronnie and Brenda. I spent a part of every summer in Dallas during my childhood, adolescence and young adulthood, as well as many Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. And most of that time was spent at Aunt Barbara and Uncle Errol’s house. Both as a child and as an adult I loved them and my cousins dearly. Ronnie and Brenda were more than cousins and Aunt Barbara and Uncle Errol were more than Aunt and Uncle. I always looked forward to spending time with them each year.
I learned a lot from Uncle Errol. Not the least was which NFL team I should align myself with. On a holiday visit in 1967, Uncle Errol had tickets for the Eastern Conference Championship Game, played on Christmas Eve against the Cleveland Browns in the old Cotton Bowl Stadium. My father and I went along with Uncle Errol, Ronnie, my Uncle Allen and cousin Robb. The Cowboys beat the Browns 52-14 and I became a lifelong fan that day.
The first time I went to the drag races was on one of my summer visits to Texas. Uncle Errol, Ronnie, my father and I went to the Dallas Motor Speedway for the Saturday night match races. I was a kid who was really just getting into cars and it was the first drag race I had been to in my life. Some of the sport’s biggest names of the time were racing that night including Gene Snow, Harry Schmidt, Roland Leong and Kenny Bernstein. Earlier that year, I had learned to drive in our ’56 Volkswagen. With him riding shotgun, Uncle Errol let Ronnie and me drive his ’67 VW all around their neighborhood, despite the fact that Ronnie was only ten years old and I had just turned fourteen.
On a visit when I was in my early twenties, Aunt Barbara and Uncle Errol took my cousins and me to the rodeo in Mesquite, just outside of Dallas. It was the pro rodeo circuit and, although I had watched it on television, being there was a whole new experience. The skill of the competitors and the beauty, strength and grace of the animals is something that I will always remember.
As great as all these experiences were, the greatest impact Uncle Errol had on me were the lessons he taught me about growing up. Some of those lessons took years to sink in, but the seeds were planted and eventually grew. He was very understanding and encouraging when giving advice. But when we were kids and acting up, if Uncle Errol walked into the room with his belt in his hand, we all straightened up immediately. I never saw him use it. He didn’t have to. If he was carrying the belt, you knew he meant business.
The first time I traveled alone was when I was fifteen. I flew out to Dallas for Thanksgiving. I was particularly smitten with a girl who lived one street over from Aunt Barbara and Uncle Errol. I asked her to go to the movies with me and she said yes. Getting ready that evening, I was a nervous wreck. Uncle Errol let me borrow a pair of his cufflinks and a few splashes of his 4711 cologne. He then explained some of the rules of proper behavior when out with a young lady, such as opening doors for her, walking on the traffic side of the street, holding her chair, complimenting her and treating her with respect. It eased my mind and his advice worked well. Now when I see the movie Scrooge starring Albert Finney, I think of Uncle Errol, the young lady and that particular evening.
Uncle Errol was an outstanding athlete and I had the good fortune of playing golf with him and Aunt Barbara on numerous occasions. Mostly by observation, I learned a great deal from both of them about on-course etiquette, proper procedures and even a swing tip or two. That was a good thing because Uncle Errol shot his age twice in his seventies. He also scored two holes-in-one and Aunt Barbara scored one. When I scored one of my own in Sapphire Valley, North Carolina, my first phone call was to Aunt Barbara and Uncle Errol. I told them that as I picked the ball up out of the cup, the first thought that went through my mind was, “I’m in the family club now.” It was the greatest feeling that I have ever had on the golf course. They congratulated me and said, “Yes, you are.”
The last time I saw Uncle Errol was when my mother passed away. I was able to tell him how much he had influenced me, what a difference he had made in my life, how I still followed many of the lessons he had taught me and how much I loved him. I am thankful that I had the opportunity to do so. Mine was not the only life Uncle Errol had a profound effect upon. Family members have expressed similar experiences with him, along with others who grew up in the neighborhood with Ronnie and Brenda. Friends and acquaintances both in the community and professionally have also related similar experiences. Uncle Errol was a great man who will be missed. I only hope that I can honor him by trying to live the lessons he taught me and the example he set. Well done, good and faithful servant. Anchors Aweigh.
Awesome! My mother’s folks were mine- they lived across the street when we were young- Paw paw was quite a mentor! Spent alot of time w him!
I’ll never forget that game,Jimmy,or my Uncle Errol. He was an inspiration to us both!