A Tribute to Uncle Don.

I often describe the atmosphere I grew up as idyllic.  We lived on the eastside of Detroit (East Warren and Outer Drive).  It was a relatively safe, blue collar neighbor.  One of the things that make it secure for me was I was surrounded by relatives.  My grandparents and my aunt and uncle lived within blocks of us.  Neither of my mom’s siblings, Aunt Phyllis and Uncle Don, married. It was like having another set of parents.  We not only celebrated holidays together but spent every Sunday night in their living room watching the Ed Sullivan Show and playing games, usually pinochle. During breaks from school I would often spend several days staying at their house keeping my grandfather company.  They would vacation every summer at a cottage on Lake Huron.  I was always invited along. 

My Aunt Phyllis died in the mid 80’s and Grandpa Ulbrich died in 1989.  My grandmother died in 2002 at the age 102.  Until last summer my uncle maintained the house of Haverhill by himself.   Uncle Don died yesterday afternoon at the age of 97; a victim of the coronavirus.  My mom, Lord willing, will turn 99 later this month.  She is in a nursing home.  Her health is declining.  It puts things into perspective when I realized I could one day soon be the oldest surviving member of the family.

Uncle Don was part of the “Greatest Generation” that saved the world during World War II.  Uncle Don was smart, he graduated from Eastern High with honors, but instead of going off to college he went off to fight in a war.  He was part of a Combat Engineering Battalion that served northern Europe. 

Uncle Don never talked much about the war.  It was only in the last ten years that he started to open up about it with me.  It helped that I learned to play cribbage.  Our favorite place to play was on Belle Isle, enjoying the fresh air and watching the boats sail past.  It was during that time that he talked.  He shared about the long trip across the Atlantic and how confining it was.  He talked of the unknowns once they arrived in Europe.  He ended up serving most of his time in Belgium and Holland.  He talked about the three winter months he spent in a foxhole with his battalion waiting for the orders to move.  He finally finished his tour of duty and returned to the states in March of 1946.  I was born on March 6^th of that year and he made it home in time to join my aunt as sponsors at my baptism.

After the war Uncle Don went back to work for the J. L. Hudson’s Company in Detroit.  At that time Hudson’s was the second largest department store in the World; over twenty stories high and occupying a full city block in downtown Detroit.   Uncle Don spent his entire career at Hudson’s working mostly in the men’s department. Hudson’s decided to close their downtown store in 1983 and they merged with Dayton’s in Minneapolis.  Uncle Don worked in the payroll department and they wanted him to move to the Twin Cities.  He said no and took an early retirement.  He was one of the last employees in the building.   There were no hard feelings.  Dayton’s became Target and Uncle Don continued to be a faithful Target customer and shareholder.

Our family was members of St. James Lutheran Church in Grosse Pointe.  Like the rest of us, he was very involved in St. James.  He taught Sunday school and even served a term as superintendent.   He was a proud member of bass section in the senior.  I had the pleasure of singing along-side him for two years.  For years he was one of the faithful counters who met every Monday afternoon to record the offerings from the previous day.  He also played right field on what was a pretty darn good church softball team.  Probably his biggest legacy is that for years he organized the church blood drive.  Having had hepatitis, he was ineligible to give but he dedicated his life to making sure those who could did.

Uncle Don took me to my first Tiger game, they lost to Cleveland 12-11 in ten innings.  When I ran in my first heat in the Soap Box Derby he was there to greet me at the finish line.  He was a heck of a partner at pinochle and taught me the intricacies of cribbage.  I cherish the memories and feel so blessed to have had him part of my life.  Now my desire is to live the legacy.

“Well done faithful servant.”  Rest in peace Uncle Don.