As a young boy I remember Uncle Eddie as being the Uncle who could throw a bail of hay over a fully loaded hay wagon. The Uncle that would take me for rides in the creek in his old Ford F100 with 44" tires. The Uncle that would show me trick shots on his pool table in the basement. The Uncle that I would arm wrestle to test how strong I was getting. When I think of Uncle Eddie I see him in the paint booth part of Grandpa's barn on the hill. Holding a tall Tupperware glass of coffee with way too much milk in it with a sweet smell of Bondo/fiberglass resin/paint in the air. Or in a hay field working twice as hard as anybody else. My Uncle Eddie would give you the shirt of his back and had the kindest heart of anybody I've ever known and will be missed terribly.