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My dad is the oldest of six children and his family is hilarious. Every Thanksgiving we used to make the drive from Richmond to Gaithersburg, MD (just outside of DC) for a family reunion of sorts. All of my dad’s siblings have distinct and very entertaining personalities. Everyone jokes around, makes fun of each other, and laughs a lot. My sister and I would chase each other and our cousins around the house and get pillows thrown at our feet, knocking us over on the plush shag carpet. It was always a time we looked forward to. And it was in this situation that I was first introduced to the guitar.

As a kid, I was fascinated by Uncle Pete. He had a loud, booming voice that was intense and jovial, and a presence that no one could ignore like a countrified Santa Clause. Everything he did was special and so much fun. He didn’t just give a hug, he gave a “Petey-Ali” which was an electrifying bear hug of repetitious squeezes that forced the giggling recipient to go “uh uh uh uh uh”. We used to play a game he called “Stretch” where he would throw me passes with a little plastic football and I would make diving catches trying my hardest not to put my head through living room wall. He made up songs like this one that he would act out with his fist…

Roly and Poly went walking down the street [shakes each fist as he mentions it’s name].

Roly said to Poly “where would you like to meet?”

Poly said to Roly “let’s meet on Newman’s neck’

So, Roly and Poly tickled Newman like heck… ahahhahahah.

I’ll never forget any of those goofy things he used to do, but my fondest memories of Uncle Pete are when he would sit on a the ottoman in the middle of the living room and play sing-along songs on his guitar. His voice was so loud and sweet. Everyone would be singing along. I’ll always remember the look in my grandmother’s eyes as she watched in awe and sheer delight as a house full of her offspring, thier significant others, and her offspring’s offspring came together in joyful song. I didn’t know any of the words yet, but they all did. He would play Hank Williams Jr.’s “Family Tradition” and anything by the Eagles and Jimmy Buffett. He was really good at Buffett. He once won a contest by calling into a radio station and playing his version of “Cheeseburger in Paradise” live over the phone. So many people called in saying how awesome it was that he won the chance to play on stage with the Mayor of Margaritaville himself at Nissan Pavillion.

I don’t know how old I was when it happened, but I fell in love with his guitar. When he wasn’t playing it, I would pretend to play it like a cat pawing at an injured mouse, not for any other reason besides just having fun. Any sound I could get out of the guitar was awesome for me, including the ever annoying dragging the pick up and down the strings to make that sawing noise. It wasn’t the sounds that the guitar made that fascinated me, though, it was the joy that it could bring to a group of people and the attention that it brought to the player. As an insecure and shy child, I would have given anything to be able to do what he could do. Uncle Pete is one hundred percent of the reason that I learned to play guitar.

A few years ago, Uncle Pete suffered a stroke that resulted in a loss in a majority of his motor skills. I was told that during his recovery, one of his first movements was tapping his fingers along to the radio. It took a while, but Pete was able to walk again using a cane and has most, but not all of his vocal abilities. He’s still the same big-hearted teddy bear of a guy, although my youngest cousins will never fully appreciate Petey-Ali hugs and Roley and Poley tickles. And they’ll never know just how great of a musician he was.

Our annual Thanksgiving trips eventually evolved into Summer family reunions to make it easier for everyone to attend. In early August we all drag our families up to Maryland for 6 hours of eating, reminiscing and watching our beloved Redskins. It’s not the same as it used to be. Everyone is obviously a lot older and I have way more cousins, and even a pair of nephews now. The children don’t run around the house tripping over pillows the way we used to, and instead of “Stretch” they entertain themselves with video games and slip ‘n’ slides. Now, I get to sit with the adults and drink beer. It’s definitely a different experience than it used to be.

This year, I finally got up the nerve to try and take on Uncle Pete’s role as the musician entertainer. His face absolutely lit up when I told him I had my guitar out in the car and would play it out on the deck. I went and got it and sat next to him on a bench. As I played the first song, ”Rocky Raccoon”, I caught a glimpse of that familiar look in my grandmother’s eyes. She was just about crying. I watched Uncle Pete, too, as I played. He was moving around, tapping his foot, snapping his fingers and singing along. He was having just as much fun as I always remember him having when he was playing the guitar. He didn’t care that he wasn’t actually playing. In fact, it sorta felt like he was playing. Every chord I’ve ever played and will ever play is a result of his love for music which he thankfully was able to share with me. It felt good to be able to give it back to him. I used to look forward to Thanksgiving for the chance that I might get to hear Uncle Pete play his guitar fro me. Now I look forward to our Summer Reunions for the chance to play my guitar for Uncle Pete. 

You can take the man out of the music, but you can’t take the music out of the man.

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