Yvette Hargis

Two Books In My Pocket

I never really knew Uncle Jack. I do remember that he was fun to be around. There was plenty of laughing. And drinking. Actually in my family there was also plenty of fighting. And there was one particular fight that cut him off from me right when it would’ve been nice to have him in my young life. He was my father’s uncle, my grandpa’s little brother. And what happened between Grandpa and my Great Uncle Jack is a story for another writing. Of course it was petty. These things always are. Suffice to say, we had to essentially cut ties with him so as not to alienate Grandpa. But by then he was living in Los Angeles and had started seeing success as a novelist. I always liked him, although I really didn’t remember much about him.