My uncle died last night. Not a good start if we seriously think there is a need to make America great again. Wonderful human, and an example of what is good about our country.

Gene was a quite, gentle soul who preferred to let others shine–particularly my late aunt, Agnes. They were a great couple, raising a wonderful family and I always looked forward to seeing them. Our families shared as many Thanksgivings as possible, and those will always be some of the fondest memories I have.

I found him to be a wry observer of the moment and now have a huge appreciation for his remarkable ability to be in good spirits. A veteran of WWII, like many of that generation, he did his duty then came home and demonstrated the same spirit throughout the rest of his life. Building a family. Serving his community. Growing the economy. Suffering loss with quiet dignity and strength.

Gene taught me to drive a standard or “stick,” bouncing around a deserted San Antonio mall parking lot in is TR-6. His gentle rebuke of my overaggressive shifting delivered deadpan: “Now Greg, if that’d been a woman, she would have slapped you.” That was back when stores remained closed on Thanksgiving day. We’d be dodging hordes of anxious shoppers today, which wouldn’t happen because even as generous as he was with me, he knew I had no business around any other cars or pedestrians. I have been meaning to buy an old 6 for years because I have such fond memories of those few moments together in that tiny car.

I visited he and Agnes my senior year in high school, and on a trip to the Museum of Science and Industry, we somewhat reluctantly dined at the featured Indian cafe in the basement. This was a choice that all three of us regretted, but it was a moment that never failed to work itself into conversation whenever we would see each other over the next 30+ years, usually with either him or I asking if we’d like go get some Indian food for dinner. “Are you sure? What about some mango ice cream?” Narrowed eyes, thin lips then laughter. Ironically, I have grown to like some Indian food during my time in London. I never got the chance to share my culinary conversion. But that is the least of my regrets since I rarely saw him the past 10 years. I had every opportunity and just didn’t.

A christian. An American. A mason. A Texan. A gentleman. A craftsman (though he probably would not agree with that point). Husband, father, brother, grandfather, friend. And uncle. An amazing uncle–precisely who you should think of whenever you hear the words “favourite uncle.”

Thank you for sharing this planet with us, Gene. We are better for knowing you and sharing those too infrequent moments. You will be mourned, celebrated and remembered always.