Dad calls Tom to say his cousin Jake Carter had just passed away. Dad reminisces about his cousins Jake and Wesley, and mentiones his brother Rex. From Tom’s journal for Jan. 17, 2004

Dad just caled. Jake Carter died. 

So aggravating when I quickly set up the software to record a conversation, it’s turns out to be one of the good conversations, not just a complaining session, then I realize 20 minutes in that I never hit the “start recording” button. As just happened.

Summary —

Dad got a call from Wesley Carter in Arizona. J.C. Carter died of flu. A friend tried to visit him and didn’t get an answer, so the friend contacted the fire department and they got in an found him dead. He’d been dead about two days. He has two daughers in the area but it was the friend who found him.

“Jake was doing so well. He was on the vegetable diet and was strong as a horse. He could still do manual labor. He was a praying man. I’m sure this is more shocking to him than it is to me. Old JC’s gone. I was wanting to see Jake again before I died. I guess that’s not going to happen.

“He was a praying man. I talked to him once after I got out of the hopsital, and he was praying for my whole family. He had a routine. He’d put the names of all the people he was praying for out in front of him on the table and pray for them. He was always praying for other people. 

The Times That Jake Dropped By

“Wesley was the younger brother when Jake and I were running wild up in Michigan. He always had a horse. Him and his wife are religious people. They’ve been spending their winters out in Arizona, Apache Junction or something like that, working with the Indians and doing hymnals. Wesley was always an over-the-road truck driver. He stopped when he was through here a couple of months ago on his way to Arizona. Wesley stopped and saw me about 20 years ago. He was on his way through and remembered I lived in Marthasville. So he went into Marthasville and ran into Bill Beaver Junior’s shop and talked to Bill Junior. I came along just a few minutes later and went out to catch him. I chased him all the way to Wentzville before I caught up with him.

I mention that Jake told me a similar story when I had my one conversation with Jake around Xmas — called Jake to tell him Dad was in hospital — that Jake came through in the 90s, asked a stranger in Marthasville if he knew Bill Beaver, and the stranger said, “He’s my dad.”

“Jake and [Doris?] came down to my wedding, and then me and Grace turned around and followed them home and spent part of our honeymoon with them in Chicago. Jake used to stop by and see me sometimes when he was passing through. the last time I saw him is when I was still in Washington living in that house. We, the Carter family, habe a family reunion every year and we still do, in Michigan every July. Jake would stop by when he was on his way from Florida, then he’d stop again on his way back.

On Uncle Rex

“Yeah, that’s another one of my friends. I guess it’ll be Rex, next. He’s always sick, his legs hurting or diarhea. But he takes pretty good care of himself. He’s still the same personality.

The Old Man's Lament

“Have I ever told you my Old Man’s lament? I copied part of it off of Rex’s rathskellar when I was there a few weeks ago, copied it and changed it some. I’m gonna have it printed on a business card with a copyright and say to people, ‘Send $2 for a business card and permit [ questioning: he says it would be one business card, with the lament, and a copyright.] I’ll sell some business cards that way, and maybe some permits. [???]

[very approx lament, from memory]

Old Man’s Lament

Now that I’m old I cannot see,

I cannot hear, I cannot pee.

I cannot smell, I cannot screw

I ---------------------

[another verse]

The golden years have come at last.

These golden years can kiss my ass.

Memories of His Mom

“Maybe I’ll sell a few of them and have candy money. That’s what grandma always used to say. She was always having a going out of business sale for as long as I can remember.”

Was she doing that before she moved to the country?]

“She was always wheedling, doing this and that, to make money, to make money for the family. Cooking, cleaning. When we were a young family, me and Rex had to go up to Chicago and get a job. Every man in the family had to do that, whether it was Chicago, or ____, or Gary, Indiana. I’ve still got those pictures — you’ve seen them. I think there were [13?] members of the family boarding with us, and Mom did all the coooking and cleaning. That’s how she made money.

Memories of His Dad

I ask, how old was Dad when Grandma and grandpa divorced?

“Tom, I went in the navy in _____, and that’s when Mom moved up to St. Louis. I enlisted on _________, and Mom arrived in St. Louis about two days later. Mom and Dad separated then and they never got back together. They must’ve divorced sometime when I was in the Navy.”

Was that hard on you? 

“Yeah, of course. But they were always arguing and fighting and separting my whole life. Over Dad’s drinking. But he wasn’t a bad alcoholoic, because he never had any money for it. Dad went up to Flint, Michicagan and stayed with the Shirleys. He got a job with General Motors. He’d sometimes stay on the wagon for a couple of weeks, then he’d go off the water wagon and get back on the booze wagon. Then he’d have to go in the hospital and dry out. He wouldn’t eat. Dad was a problem drunk. He’d finally come home sick, and the Shirleys would put him in the hospital. If they didn’t put him in, he’d put himself in. he’d dry out and get his health back. Then he’d walk right out of the hospital and go to the Blue Cedar tavern right across the street, here in Washington, and start drinking again.”

What would he do, just drink continously? Talk with the other men in the bar?

“Dad would play poker. He got to where he’d play poker, and spend all his money, then come home sick and the shirley’s would hve to put him in the hospital. I brought him down from Michigan.”

Was he separated from Ada before he came to Missouri to live with us?

We moved into the new house in time for you kids to pin up your Christmas stockings on the mantle. 

“No, he came to Missouri, they separated and he came to Missouri [yes, that answer is confusing]. We had just moved out of that log house. We lived in that Log House from, now why can’t I…I don’t know why I never was good with dates — we lived in the log house for two and one half winters. We moved into the new house in time for you kids to pin up your Christmas stockings on the mantle. Do you remember that? That was our plan, to move in in time for you kids to hang up your christmas stockings on the fireplace.

“I guess we’d been in the new house for two days when Dad showed up. I guess he knew we’d be moving out of the log house. I said, “Dad, you can move right in. The electricity and water’s still hooked up. You’re welcome to stay for the rest of your life, as long as you don’t drink.” That lasted about one winter. Every morning I’d walk over and have coffee with Dad. He made good coffee. It was different than any coffee you’ll ever get in a restaurant. Folgers — he always used Folgers, and the dripolator.”

What made it different?

“I guess the brand, and the way he made it, with the percolator. And it wasn’t burnt. Rrestaurant coffee is always burnt. I enjoyed those mornings having coffee with Dad.

Dad’s Quest

“Tom, what’re you going to have for lunch? What do you normally eat? Do you fix yourelf something special?

I start to answer the question.

“Hold on, I gotta pee, pronto.”

He’s gone about one minute.

“When I have to go I have to go right now, otherwise I’ll go in my pants and have wet pants. I have wet pants now. My quest now is to get one of those things that has a tube going down to a bag strapped to your leg. I’m gonna try to get the doctors over here at the Veterans’ clinic to give me one of those. It costs about $40 if they don’t give me one. Then you can just pee anytime you want.”