Uncle Charles

This week, my great uncle, brother to my paternal grandmother, passed away. Uncle Charles Ardis was a good man, a great husband, father and uncle. He lived out in Clarendon county near the old home place of my grandmother's family. His house was always a refuge from the hot sun when my brother and I were out riding our dirt bikes or walking in the woods. What I remember most about him is his laugh and big smile. I don't think I can remember him being mad. He always had birds that he raised: parakeets, cockatoos and the like. He kept busy around his little homestead out in the country. He loved to tell us stories about hunting rabbits back in the day or about when he was in the Navy and out at sea. Uncle Charles and Aunt Pearl spent many evenings at my Dad's place when I was growing up. They were really our only neighbors out there in the country and they were family too! After my Dad took the job at the ginkgo farm and moved away, I lost contact with Uncle Charles and Aunt Pearl but would stop by their place every few years and see how they were getting along and just say "howdy". We were always family.

I specifically remember one story he told me about rabbit hunting. He said there were once so many rabbits out there in the country that once when he went to shoot a rabbit about 20 yards away, another rabbit jumped directly in his line of sight and he killed both with 1 shot. Not sure if that really happened or not but he liked to tell the story. He was also great at getting the old hounds to run some rabbits on lazy Sundays. He would call them and they would sound off and he would just keep them baying and sooner or later, they would run a rabbit out of the woods and into our yard or his yard. It was cool.

I also remember one Saturday when we were down at his place and I was asking him about his electric fence. He told me I could touch it with a stick and not get shocked. Well, he was just kidding but I got a nice little shock anyways. It more scared me more than hurt me. But, I remember running away towards my Dad's place, upset and mad at him. They came after me in the car and went down and told my Dad what happened. Uncle Charles felt bad and worked hard to make me feel better about the joke. By doing that, he was showing me he really cared.

Rest well Uncle Charles, I hear the hounds, do you?

See ya!