a fairground life (those that have gone before us)

When I was young, some 30 years ago, my two favourite uncles were Ratio (pronounced ray-sha) and Junior. These two men were a big part in our family life. The first was actually my Great Uncle, as Ratio was my Grans brother on my fathers side (my dads uncle). He had served in WW II , his first day in service saw him promoted to corporal because he was the only one that could drive the troop truck. He was a character to say the least. After the war when he returned home he started to travel again but this time down in London. There he had a big wheel and a Divebomber (single arm). Unfortunately I was too young to think to ask him how he came about these rides. He did marry, but did not have any children. In the early 70s he had sold the rides and took on a small hotel in Dunoon. There he was also made an elder of the church. When he had finished with the hotel he took on a small building at the coastal town of Dunbar. He parked his wagon at the side of it and turned the building into an amusement arcade. I can remember going to visit him there. It was about 1978 and I'm sure it only lasted the year. In 1979 my father bought our first big ride, the upright paratrooper. Since my brother and I were only kids at the time my uncle Ratio and his wife came to my dads aid and looked after the ride for him until I was old enough. He had an old Ford Transit van. Flat bed type with a single cylinder Lister generator mounted behind the cab. One time, while traveling at night, the lights failed on the van. Not to be stuck, he nailed three florescent tubes to the cab. One across the roof and the others down each side. Then he started the Lister generator and continued on his way (that is the truth!). The next few summers were great, we spent a lot of our free time fishing. The best memories were from a Loch near Dunkeld called Butterstone. My father, brother, both uncles and I would spend long days fishing from boats on the loch until it was too dark to see. Other days were spent on numerous Golf courses. One time while driving the Paratrooper ERF with his wagon on the back from Stranraer. The lorry lost all brakes near Ballantrae. "b" who was second man at the time was ready to jump out of the cab! Uncle Ratio managed to keep control of the lorry while coming down the hill into the village and eventually stopped it (The problem was the brake light pressure switch had came out and let the air vent. "b" wound in a bolt to block the hole for a temp repair). At 14 years of age I took on the ride and my uncle went on to do his own thing. He had made many improvements to the ride while it was in his charge. When I was getting married I took my wife to be and introduced her to him. They hit it off right away, so much so that we named our son after him. In 1987 death came to our door. My Great uncle died suddenly. It was a shock, a great loss. It was the first time I had any experience of losing someone. It has been a short twenty years since those long summer days fishing or golfing. For some reason I have never done either since, mostly due to having no time. I still think of him, especially going to and leaving Stranraer when I approach Ballantrae. The work he and his wife put in for us has helped give my brother and I a foundation to build on. My Great aunty "Polly" is still going strong today. I really should visit her more. There is a small oil painting of my uncle hanging in our bedroom.
When I started traveling with the paratrooper, my uncle Junior came to move it on numerous occasions. He took over from uncle Ratio. I was staying with my Gran during this time and it was her wagon that was towed behind the lorry. My uncle Junior was her son in law. He was a great help to us and time or distance was never a problem to him. On one occasion while leaving Crieff (about 1984), the spigot shaft on the gearbox sheared. This was on the steep hill right in the middle of the narrow town. The High St was brought to a halt. When the Police arrived they managed to get a contractor to tow the lorry out of the town for us. He towed us to the nearest lay-by. Later we returned with another of our lorries and towed the paratrooper to the next fair (Dunkeld). Uncle Junior didn't even bat an eyelid, just as-well because he towed us in several times in the following years. Death came to us for the 7th time. Next week it will be a year since uncle Junior passed away. He had no sons, only daughters and I was charged with the privileged of saying a few words for him.
Many have gone before us, but they leave a lasting imprint on us and our lifes. Simple things that you don't quite realise at the time. Take for instance my Grandmother, she had a card with a verse on it in her bedroom. When I was a kid, every time I spotted it, I would read the verse and try to memorise it. I can't remember what the handwritten message was on the back of the card, but the verse is still etched in my mind after some thirty odd years.
We are all travelers upon life's road
With many a joy and many a load
God grant us on our way we go
We leave behind some good to show
Some bit of hope
Some cheer to bless
Another's life with Happiness
Some seed that in some place takes root
And blossoms fair and bares rich fruit.

That verse seems quite apt now and those years just keep on ticking away.