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My favorite uncle, my mother's brother. He probably lived up to my name in its fullest sense.. He lived in the true meaning of the word live, fisherman, hunter, carpenter, farmer. Always active outdoors, involved in neck breaking, maybe foolhardy adventures. He managed to shoot himself in the belly, while he was trapping small prey on some islands, maybe an hour from the mainland. He had carelessly tucked is hunting pistol inside his belt while jumping around from bolder to bolder and the gun went off. Fortunately it was fine caliber and no vital organ was hit, but he had to get in the boat - it took an hour to the mainland - then walk for a mile until he reached a house with telephone and call for an ambulance.
A few years previous to that, he broke his leg while trying to save a yacht from crashing into cliffs during a storm. He had a severe limp from that accident for the rest of his life.
A wound, big enough to require stitches, on a finger was fixed with a coarse needle and whatever thread was at hands, no doctor!
He had the most contagious laughter. As a kid I always looked forward to his visits, he would grab me, swing me upside down and let me walk in the ceiling around the house.
He lost his battle against cancer though, he passed away in 1996.
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