Uncle Eddy was not one man, but a composite of all of my uncles who worked the mills and mines of Ohio. I grew up with them in the Cuyahoga and Mahoning Valleys, and the ore docks of Fairport Harbor. I rolled all of their personalities into one: Uncle Eddy. I lived with them for years, grew up listening to their philosophies and grievances, went hunting and fishing with them, learned how to curse and play cards, and not shy away from hard dirty labor.
So Uncle Eddy’s spirit is still alive in the Mahoning Valley of Ohio, in the heart of the Rust Belt. He lost his job in the steel mills years ago, but he hoped steel would come back. He voted for Trump because Trump promised it would. But it didn’t, and Uncle Eddy spoke out here for 4 years.
From time to time, Eddy shared his thoughts on life. We used to have long phone conversations — you’ll find those in Archives.
When the Grand-kids got him a cell phone, he started leaving me voicemails. Those are saved in Archives, too. For him — that was high tech. He left me full-on posts. I never corrected the grammar — that would offend him. With Eddy, what you saw is what you got.