uncle woodrow’s home, 16×20 oil on canvas, SOLD
Uncle Woodrow’s Home, used to be standing in what is now the “Dale Berg Park.” It was torn down a year or so before the designer & I married. Our wedding reception was the first, I’m told, in the official “park”. Because he passed away a couple years before I was part of the Berg family, I never met him or his home. Uncle Woodrow was my FIL’s uncle, who, as I have been informed, was a very “colorful” man.
After serving in the war he returned to Heber City for the remainder of his life. He never married and was known to be quite put out by the Berg kids playing basketball and hitting his car (usually while he was taking a nap in it). The home never had central heating, so he was quite comfortable napping in the sun-warmed car.
Other things I have learned about him are that he loved eating ice cream at the birthday party gatherings, always licking his bowl or plate clean. The grand kids (the designer, his cousins, & siblings) were mostly intimidated by him & did not enjoy helping him in his precious garden or climbing into his dirt filled root cellar to obtain potatoes for supper. It appears that the only grand kids he really enjoyed (or had softened up to) were the youngest girls: Brittany & Krystalina.
There are many more “Woody” stories, but these are the ones I hear about most. The home was quite lovely at one time, and although my FIL, Dale, would rather of saved it, it was determined better to tear it down and enjoy the extra space. And it has been enjoyed. The large trees around the park attract many to picnic under the shade & in their cars. Sometimes neighborhood kids wander in also. This past summer, the designer & his siblings worked very hard at finishing the landscaping on the east side, giving JuLee the extra privacy she’s dreamt about for quite a while.
Do you have a special place that may no longer be there physically…though the memories make it live on vividly in your mind?
Oh that house brings back memories. Our playhouse in the attic – 2nd story – part of the house will always be a special memory. He was such a good man.
I’ve heard about the playhouse in the attic…I love that you were a part of that Lesa! Who else played up there? I think it was Heather that told me about it. Clearly, I need more stories about Woody…it seems like I’ve only scratched the surface. 🙂