Jesse

 I think that everyone has a favorite uncle. Since I only had two my decision making was easier than for others. We lived with my Grandmother and Jesse when I was small, Max (father) was overseas, a medic in the Army. So Jesse was my pick by default.

There really does not seem to be any normalcy in my family, starting with my Mother and her brother having the same first name...Jesse(ie). My uncle, at least got to use his given name throughout his life. Although I vaguely remember someone calling out loudly, "Jesse Floyd Thomason" on occasion. Someone was displeased! Mother on the other hand was called by both her given names, Jessie and Edith...Edy. A trait common within our family. my other uncle, David was always Mel...go figure.

I remember Jesse with his first golf club hitting balls into the barn door...now I remember where I heard that Jesse Floyd...
I never followed his golfing career, but he never turned pro. What he did become was a de facto Chamber of Commerce agent for his beloved Hickory. N.C. I've had the tour.

After moving north, we only saw him infrequently. School, work, Martha, Steve and Bill in that order kept him in North CarolinaHe visited only.  once to my memory. So my next good recollection is after I joined the Navy. Ski, a buddy was working on his private pilots licence. So it was natural that we would hop into a single engine plane and fly cross country  for a week-end visit. Why I keep putting my stomach in this kind of jeopardy bewilders me. Around the thunderstorms, not through them! C of C tour number one for Ski (Andrejeski) and me. Best BBQ at the poolhall, etc.
We flew back, safely to Norfolk and neither of us mentioned Hickory again. Think Ski got his licence, just not sure.

Year's later, married with Karen on the way, Mary Ellen and I visited Jesse and family for I think our only "in family" vacation. July at Myrtle Beach! Beautiful blue sky...moisture condensing and running down the porch screen, I had forgotten that part. We did the beach, we saw Pauley's Island and we drove to Charleston. At this point I need to point out two or three things, a.) Jesse loved people and talking to them. b.) Mary Ellen HATED heights. c.) Jesse was the world's worst driver. d.) The old bridge going into Charleston was open grate, high, open,in short frightening. e.) Except to Jesse, who drove across the bridge with his back to the bridge...you have to face the person you're talking to, courtesy, you understand! He couldn't understand why a very pregnant Mary Ellen was cowering between the seats.
After returning, another way to the beach house we next sampled the food at a family friend's inland waterway camp.
Fresh caught crabs and Chess Pie...Mary Ellen got that recipe and I bet she still has it. Shrimp in Calibash and back to Hickory. Tours numbering ad infinitum. We thought about it, but without a job, her being pregnant and having a house already, fate was against it.

Only one of us ever moved south and I doubt she will go north anytime soon. Jesse and Martha are both gone and the list of family stays short. Only Steve and Bill for cousins. No other direct relatives. For a family with so many children it could only been as a compensating device for Mother.

Do wish I could take another tour, but I would drive!