Uncle Joe’s last gift”

He was my mother’s younger brother. Much younger brother, as he arrived 14 years after she was born. 17 years after my Aunt Cat. You can safely say that he was likely a surprise baby. Only nine years separated me and “Little Joe”. I was known as “Little Dan”, so at least we had that in common.
Joe’s path was not always easy. He was the youngest child of older parents. I was an older grandchild that adored that same couple as my grandparents. Little Joe found his way to military school, then Auburn, then the off-shore oil fields, insurance, mortgage broker, and lots in between.
At some point, he came to work for our company, Ponder Enterprises, as the quality control manager. He inspected each restaurant twice a month and became affectionately (or maybe not so much) known to over 1,000 employees as simply “Uncle Joe”. It probably started as a derogatory term, but over time it became a phrase of affection. After all, holding people accountable makes us all better, right?
Joe finally found his way after working for our company longer than anywhere else in his life. He found a companion that we adored, often saying that June was the best thing that ever happened to him.
It was a gift to me that after so many years of personal conflict with Uncle Joe, that we wound up in the same boat. We did not always row in the same rhythm, but we learned to go in the same direction. Our company benefited from his work, and he received help from being a part of our company family. In our long, occasionally tumultuous relationship, it was the best of times.
22 days after we sold our company, and Uncle Joe took his retirement, he unexpectedly passed away on his 74th birthday. We believe it was the earliest days of Covid, given his classic symptoms, but it doesn’t really matter. So many were taken too early during those days.
I was charged with handling his estate. Just an hour before he was put on a ventilator, he gave my sister the password for his computer and instructions on which file I was to look for. It held meticulously organized spreadsheets with the password to every account he had. It also had instructions on how to access two storage units previously unknown to me.
I spent the next couple of months winding down Uncle Joe’s affairs, which would have been impossible without the information on his computer file. At some point, I boxed up some final papers and put them in storage, thinking I would finish it up later.
Later means six years later, when we finally emptied a storage unit with things from our move to Auburn. There was one box marked simply “Uncle Joe”. Within the contents of that box, I found a reel of movie film. It had tiny frames, was unlabeled, and had no dates. Try as I might with the use of background lighting and magnifying glasses, I could not figure out what was on the developed film.
Just before tossing it out, I decided to have it sent off and converted it to a jump drive. Two weeks later, I received that finished product. I told the clerk that I had probably wasted that $60, joking with him about what, if anything, I might find.
I plugged the jump drive into my computer and the movie popped up. I watched it three times before I even mentioned it to my wife, sitting in the adjacent chair. Never in a million years would I have guessed what I was seeing on my screen.
The Wavecrest Motel was at the west end of Panama City Beach, in an area known as Sunnyside. It was owned by an old Sigma Alpha Epsilon (SAE) brother, who gave preferential treatment and prices to other SAEs. The SAEs here in Auburn always held their Spring house party at the Wavecrest.
In the reel hidden from view for over a half century was a film just over three minutes long of the SAEs in the Spring of 1974. We were all young and tanned and carefree. Sandcastles and ice chests on the beach. Frisbees and goofing around without any care in the world.
In the same week that I celebrated the Golden Eagles Weekend of having graduated from Auburn a half century ago (actually 49 years ago since they now combine two classes), I found a film showing us in at the height of our time in college. It is a mesmerizing film and will soon be shared with my fraternity brothers who bonded together in the best times of our youth.
I made my peace with Uncle Joe a decade before he passed away. We were both blessed by that time later in our lives. Although I have no idea who took this film or how it came to be found in a box of his belongings, I will always regard it as my last gift from Uncle Joe. What a special gift it was.
o0o
Dan Ponder can be reached at [email protected]