Uncle Johnny’s Grave (Part One)

I hardly knew my Uncle Johnny,but I loved him dearly.

When I was a little kid I remember the day my Uncle Johnny moved away from New Jersey. When I asked my parents why that had happened I remember my mother telling me that Uncle Red (that was his nickname) wasn’t coming back to New Jersey for a very long time and I shouldn’t be sad he had left. She told me that I should just remember the good times I had with him and those happy moments where he would pick me up,put me on his shoulders and run around the house or the yard and act like a wild horse or a raging bull.  She told me to always think about the times that he would make me laugh so hard that I couldn’t catch my breath and also all the presents he would give me and as he did so would tell me that he loved me. I could see in my mother’s face,even though I was young,that there was a sadness there as she told me these things. I felt bad for my mother,just didn’t understand why I felt that way.

I always thought my mother was mistaken about Uncle Johnny not coming back for such a long time,but she was right. In fact,he never came back to New Jersey. Worse than that he dropped all communication to his family here,including my parents,my sister and me. I would often ask where he was,what he was doing. My parents would give me bits of info regarding the reasons he left but never told me the whole story. Peaked my curiosity of course,but I didn’t ask any questions.

Until one day years later,when I was 11 years old and my mother got a phone call that Uncle Johnny had died of stomach cancer. The phone call came from a woman who lived in Indiana who said that she was Uncle Johnny’s wife. My mother was upset about his passing of course, but really angry that Uncle Johnny had never written or called her in all those years that had passed. Angrier still that he (or anyone else) didn’t write or call to tell her that he was dying. When the phone call had ended my mother told my father that Uncle Johnny’s wife was sending a package to her containing the American flag that was draped on Uncle Johnny’s coffin during his funeral service. Uncle Johnny was in the Navy during World War II. He earned the right as a vet to have the flag during his burial. His wife wanted my mother to have that flag. She knew that Uncle Johnny was special to my mother and she wanted her to have the flag as a remembrance of him. My mother graciously accepted the gesture and the package was shipped to her.  My mother always had  a special feeling for that flag. She made sure it was kept in a safe place and she would take it out from time to time when she was thinking about Uncle Johnny.

I finally found out the true story about Uncle Johnny’s sudden departure from New Jersey and complete communication breakdown with his family a few years later when my parents felt that I could handle the truth.

He had left his wife and child for another woman and moved away to where she lived in Indiana. His family didn’t know his whereabouts,he wanted it that way. I guess that he didn’t want to face the wife and child he left behind,or maybe have to explain to anyone why he just packed up and left. The legal issues that surrounded his choices,I  really don’t know. I was never told. All I do know is that he just disappeared. One day he was a daily part of my family’s lives,the next day he was gone without a trace.

Until the day of the phone call to my mother and the unexpected news about his death.

As the years went by and my Uncle Jimmy (his brother),my mother and finally my aunt passed away I started thinking about Uncle Johnny again. Why he left his wife and child,who was the woman he left them for,what was she like. Thinking about the years he spent in Indiana,what he was doing with his life there. How long was he sick,did he suffer much. Many questions I would have loved to have answers for. Then I wondered where he was laid to rest,what the surroundings were like at his final resting place. I began to think that it would be an amazing thing for me to have some closure with him. Say “Goodbye” so to speak.  But I had no clue where he was,except that he was in some cemetary in Indiana. The phone call to my mother was brief,she wanted it that way,she didn’t ask any detailed questions that I ever found out about. Indiana was where he had died,that’s all I knew. My parents didn’t know any more information than that. I figured it was impossible to find out more about him and I also felt that the wonderful memories I had of him were enough for me and I had to put the rest of the story of his life out of my mind.

Until one day when I was sitting in my backyard and I heard a woman’s voice say rather distinctly “Kenny come inside”. I thought it was my wife calling from the kitchen window. I got up and went into the house. I looked around for my wife,couldn’t find her. I started yelling out loud “I’m inside,what do you want?”. No response. Thought she may have been in the basement or on the second floor and didn’t hear me. Then I got a bizarre feeling. Can’t really explain it. I did begin to think I was hearing things when I was sitting outside,that my name wasn’t really called. But that bizarre feeling… man.

At that moment this same feeling told me to check in the basement for my wife trying to justify in my head that I did,in fact,hear her call me. She wasn’t there,but something else caught my attention rather intensely.

On a shelf in the basement I had a few family heirlooms,one of them being my Uncle Johnny’s flag that was placed on his coffin. I inherited it when my mother passed away,my father told me I should keep it. I guess he figured that I was an innocent kid when Uncle Johnny left,and I did love him very much. My father knew that flag meant as much to me as it did to my mother. So I kept it in my basement on a shelf. Displayed proudly. I saw it there and that bizarre feeling hit me again. I still couldn’t explain who or what I heard outside,only that I was drawn down to the basement looking for my wife only to have that flag brought to my attention. It was as though someone wanted me to see it. I was supposed to be there.

I hadn’t thought of Uncle Johnny in years. I am convinced  the flag in my basement was the reason I  was “called” inside my house. I was determined to find Uncle Johnny’s grave from that moment forward.  Little did I know at that same moment what an amazing and unbelievable journey would lie ahead of me.