The photo above is of me and my Uncle Stanley in 2012.

Not sure of as many things as I thought I was not too long ago.

I don’t know if that is experience or doubt or regret talking.  Maybe it is a combination.

The last time I saw Uncle Stanley Chambers in July of 2017, he was in the nursing home room where he died this past week.  During our visit we went back and forth the best we could.  He couldn’t hear very well.  He couldn’t see all that well.  But I do plainly remember a conversation we had that caught me quite off guard to tell you the truth.  But I can tell you I have not forgotten it.

He looked my way and asked, “Danny, what do you think about Donald Trump?”

I kind of thought I was walking into a bit of a trap.  A frustrated Republican, I thought I knew where this was going.  I was wrong.  Nonetheless, I had to answer my Uncle.

“Uncle Stanley, I have to tell you I am not much of a fan.”

There was a pause.  Then Uncle Stanley spoke.  “I don’t care much for him either, anyone who talks about a woman the way he does don’t deserve anyone’s respect.”

At that moment I was somewhere between relief and sadness.  Glad that we were not going to have to tap dance around our belief systems and sad that we had to be considering having to have this conversation about a, (gulp), leader.

Uncle Stanley was a commercial painter in Forest, Mississippi.  I have no doubt he did good work.  He was 89 when he died.  His wife, my Aunt Reat, was there when he passed.

My mother is originally from Forest, Mississippi.  She had sixteen brothers and sisters.

I have said it before.  Living in Indiana so far away from my kinfolk has been a bit frustrating at times.  I’d say there might have been a time when one of them looked to the North and thought I had it made to be up the road.  I truly don’t know.

I do know that I have never had a cross word with any of them.  The precious time we have spent together over the years has been sheer bliss and a source of great thanksgiving.

This is one of my favorite photographs.  My dear wife, Carrie, and my Uncle Stanley hit it off when they met.  I am so glad they did.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson