BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 310
I liked Unc about half the time. He was also sober just about half the time. I
should‟ve taken a message from that. Gotten a hint, I guess, for what my kids faced in
later years. Sorry, kids. Honestly, I am, since I remember what it was like when I was in
your position.
When sober, only in the daytime for many years, and not before too late in the
afternoon, he was a happy, humorous, gregarious man. Lots of fun and as warm hearted
as anyone you‟ll ever meet. When he started drinking, not if, but when, he‟d be the same
way up until someone crossed him. Intentionally, unintentionally, with purpose or by
accident, it was all the same.
That happy smile would leave his face. The belly laugh always so evident was
gone in a heartbeat. Big, burly hands otherwise accustomed to welding would close into
hammy fists, one or both of which may then come flying at the antagonist without a
moment‟s notice. If there was a street brawler or barroom fighter who could whip his
ass, I never saw the man. Unc was a mean, tough son-of-a-bitch.
Five-ten, two-fifty, tons of muscle coated in fat, he looked a lot like a Sumo
wrestler. Huge biceps, strong, thick legs, and a neck he might‟ve stolen from a pier by
cutting up one of the posts. He was big, burly, and a mean drunk.
It‟s a very bad thing when a mean drunk is also a frequent drunk.
He had blondish-brown hair, always in a crew cut, the same way he wore it when
he left the Navy in the early 40s. I‟m not sure if he ever owned a house, and I know he
seldom owned a car. Houses he found by falling in love and moving in with the woman
who might‟ve become his fiancée the first evening they were together, which would also
be the first time they had sex, knowing Unc. Cars were an item he borrowed, too often
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