Chuck

My uncle Chuck Anderson passed away a few days ago after a gradual decline during the last year or so. He was 89. I remember him as an easy-going guy with a great big laugh who loved music.

My Mom's only brother, his real name was Albert Benjamin (A.B.) Anderson, but everybody called him Chuck. The story goes that his Dad, my grandpa Al Anderson, used to exclaim "Shuck, by golly" to anything mildly surprising. They say it might rain. "Shuck, by golly." The store is out of sweet corn. "Shuck, by golly." Coolidge won the election. "Shuck, by golly." So his firstborn, rather than being 'Al Junior', became 'Chuck'.

Grandpa Albert ran a restaurant, Al's Lunch, in Spring Grove, Minnesota, and set up his brother Freddie in the grocery store down the street. After the war, when Chuck and Helen were both married and starting families, Al decided to retire. Chuck and my Dad, whom everyone called Dunc, took over the restaurant and renamed it the C&D. We used to go back to the C&D as kids, sit at the counter, and spin around on the stools.

Two of my three older sisters, like me, were born in Spring Grove. Shortly after I arrived, we moved out of the big brick duplex we shared with Chuck, Marion, and their two kids and moved to Rochester, where my Dad started out in the insurance business. When I was three, we moved across the river to LaCrosse, Wisconsin, and a few years later, Chuck and his family, now with three kids, moved to LaCrosse. He tuned pianos and Marion taught business courses at the high school. They lived on Coulee Drive, out by the bluffs, and we lived on Market Street, closer to downtown.

It's a little odd reconstructing such a long, textured narrative in just a few fragments of the story. What am I leaving out? Just about everything. How accurate are the pieces I remember? I don't know for sure. How badly does this crude account misrepresent a person's life? If you read this, please correct the mistakes or fill in the blanks.

Kris, Lee, and Russ were the cousins I knew the best growing up, and we were like stairsteps. Anna Banana was the firstborn of the tribe; Kris is the same age as Jeanie Beanie; Lee is a year younger than Jo Jo; Russ is three years younger than me; Rock was the trailer, coming along after we had moved away from our extended family roots and transplanted ourselves in Michigan.

Helen's family and Chuck's family belonged to different churches and different politics - we were Methodist, they were Lutheran, we were Nixon Republicans and they were Humphrey Democrats - but were ideologically more similar than not. Chuck sang in the church choir, and so did Helen. Chuck was affiliated with the big music store downtown, and Helen gave piano lessons. All the kids except me inherited some of that musical talent. Lee and Russ played in bands, and my sisters sang in choirs.

Music was important to Chuck. During the War he played in an Army band in Europe; picture Glenn Miller in uniform onstage in France or Italy - that kind of band. Every summer for as long as I can remember, Chuck and his bandmates would get together. He played string bass in a jazz group in LaCrosse, too, mostly guys his age playing clubs and festivals up and down the Mississippi Valley. Since kids weren't allowed to go to those places, I only remember seeing them once as a young adult. They were really good, very professional, pretty hot - in a Pete Fountain/Al Hirt kind of way - and as a rock and roller nonmusician, I was impressed. This was the real deal.

I'm looking forward to the memorial service in LaCrosse, touching base with my cousins and honoring my uncle. I know it will be painful, especially for my Mom, and I hope there is music involved.