When I was 13 years old, I did one of my first oil paintings.  It was of my Grandma and Grandpa Kuck's dairy farm out in central Nebraska, just north of Grand Island.  For being so young, it's not too bad though I cringe at the perspective issues I see in it now.

 

Grandpa had about a hundred cows and about a thousand+ acres of corn, which was a sizable operation for those days.  Grandpa (Eric) and my Uncle Dan, plus a farm hand named Randy, were the ones that worked the farm.  We would go out there often on weekends and when I was a teen, I would stay at the farm for a few weeks, help milk cows, irrigate and do other farm duties.

 

I loved working with my grandfather and my Uncle Dan.  Uncle Dan was only ten years older than me, so when I was 13, he was 23.  Dan was the youngest and had two sisters.  I was the oldest grandchild and I often felt like Dan treated me like a younger brother.  I always felt respected, appreciated and accepted like a brother. 

 

Grandpa had hay stacks on the farm and sometimes Dan and I would go out and climb one of the haystacks, lay on top and just enjoy the warm sun and blue skies.  Then he would get playful and start throwing me around the haystack just like an older brother would do. 

 

In the fall, there was the harvest.  We would drive the tractor with a wagon full of grain to the grain elevator in St. Libory, about five miles away from the farm.  When we pulled into the elevator, Dan would chat with a few of the men there, and then we'd walk across the street to the Beer Barrel, which was a little local bar with some cheap beer in the cooler and farmers playing cards at a few of the tables.

 

In one of the most memorable moments of my time spent with Dan, we walked in and the bar tender greeted Dan and I.  Dan introduced me as his nephew (at about age 16 I think), and Dan said to the bartender, "Give this man a Blatz".  And that's a direct quote that I'll never forget.  I was so surprised and flattered.  I didn't really drink beer at that age, of course, but I was so flattered that my uncle would treat me so respectfully as a teenager.  You may remember from your own youth that almost no one treats teenagers respectfully.  So here was my uncle, doing just the opposite.  Dan then went on to tell me how Blatz was the best beer on earth.  So we each finished our beer, played a game of pool, and then walked back to the elevator.

 

Many years went by and then in 2005, my grandfather passed away.  The funeral took place at the rural church that has served generations of family since the mid 1800's, Zion Lutheran Church in Worms, Nebraska.  After the funeral, there was a reception, and as is the practice always at this church, there was a reception afterward with open face sandwiches, various salads, white cake and coffee.  

 

I watched Dan closely at the reception and he was quite sad.  He had always been an introspective, sensitive man, but I felt he needed someone to talk to.  So I sat him down and I retold the story of our first beer together.  And I told him how important that moment had been to me and how he made me feel.  Then we laughed about the quality of Blatz beer.  I was happy that he was smiling again.

 

On April 13th, last Saturday, my Uncle Dan passed away.  He was only 72 years old.  Many years ago, he had contracted Parkinson's disease, the same disease that killed my Grandpa Kuck.  I have no doubt that exposure to farm chemicals was the cause of Parkinson's for both my uncle and my grandfather.  Neither my uncle or grandfather ever received any settlement for this exposure, but even if they had, it wouldn't have mattered.  Parkinson's robs you of your health, vitality and mobility.  I know that the last many years of Dan's life were not pleasant because of the disease and he was confined to a nursing home, so in some ways, his passing is a blessing. 

 

But I want you to know how good a man Dan was, how sweet, kind and generous he was on the inside.  Perhaps the only real tangible impact we have after we are gone is the influence we had on others.  The time I spent with Uncle Dan was wonderful and he will forever be revered.   

 

My painting of the Kuck farm hung in my grandparent's house and then their retirement center for more than 40 years.  I got it back when Grandma passed away in 2016.  I will hang the painting I did of the Kuck farm as a testament to Uncle Dan, my grandparents and the wonderful memories of the time we spent together there.