Uncle Eddy was not one man, but a composite of all of my uncles who worked the mills and mines of Ohio — in the Cuyahoga and Mahoning Valleys, and the ore docks of Fairport Harbor. I’ve rolled all of their personalities into one: Uncle Eddy. I grew up listening to their grievances, went hunting and fishing with them, learned how to curse and play cards, drink beer, and not shy away from hard dirty labor.
Uncle Eddy’s spirit is still alive in the Mahoning Valley of Ohio, in a small town near Youngstown in the Rust Belt. He lost his job in the steel mills years ago, but he hopes steel will come back. He voted for Trump because Trump promised it would.
From time to time, Eddy shared his thoughts on life. We used to have long phone conversations — you’ll find those in Uncle Eddy Speaks Up.
Then the Grand-kids got him a cell phone, and he started leaving me voicemails. I saved them in Voicemail From Uncle Eddy. Now he’s getting high tech and leaves me full-on posts or Tweets. I never correct the grammar — that would offend him. With Eddy, what you see is what you get.