UNCLE DAVID

I never called him uncle in my life.  David Haskins was my mother’s half-brother.  He was 5 years older than me.  I thought he was an adult who knew everything.  I followed him like a puppy.

David lived in a community called Coryell City near Gatesville, Texas.   He went to school in Gatesville.  He arrived by bus in Breckenridge the day after school closed for summer vacation.  He stayed until the day before school started.  He wanted to stay with my parents.  I remember him crying as he boarded the bus to return home.

David had a pet raccoon. He found it alone in the woods and raised it.  It ran free in the house during the day.  At night it was caged because it was adept at opening cabinet doors and drawers.  I thought having a coon was as exotic as having a circus animal.

There was a small pond behind the house in Breckenridge.  One summer there was very little rain and the pond began to dry up.  David decided to move the few fish from the pond to a tank nearby.  He had a bucket of water to transfer the fish.  I followed to the edge of the pond, removed my shoes, and stepped into the mud.  I did not go into the water.  I don’t recall him removing fish, but he discovered snakes.  I picked up my shoes and retreated to the house and observed from the backyard.   He killed the snakes.  He poked a wire through their heads and attached them to a low tree limb.  There were several snakes hanging in a row.  I was about 6 or 7 years old.  This was the epitome of bravery.  In my eyes, he could have been a big game hunter.

As David entered his teens, he spent more time with my dad and my brother helping around the dairy.  I developed other interests and was less absorbed in his activities, but he remained a part of our family.

One of my cousins came to the dairy after World War 11.  He had what was then called “shell shock.”  He painted every day.  David painted alongside him.  I have a vivid memory of them both on ladders applying another coat of paint to the barn.  David was in high school.  He painted all summer.  He had to return home a few weeks early for football practice.

After David graduated from high school, he joined the Air Force.  He married and his first child was born before his discharge in 1952. There was a short period of time when he could not take his family with him.  He brought them “home” to Breckenridge to stay with us until he could send for them.

There were years we both were involved with our families and work and only saw each other at family reunions or funerals.  These occasions were catch up times.

David was living in Dallas working as an industrial technician when he moved his mother to Dallas to look after her.  She lived two houses down from his family. His Dad had died earlier.

David was bitten by a copperhead snake in 1996.  He was treated and survived the bite, but his health began to decline.  He died on November 6, 1996, from a heart attack.  He is buried by his parents in the Necessity Cemetery southeast of Breckenridge.  He was only 67 years old.