Our Pal Al

My father and I went out tonight to eat, gather in some groceries, and possibly visit an ailing friend. When we got to the nursing home, I spotted a gurney being prepared next to a van/hearse. It was then that I knew we were too late and sure enough our friend Ellsworth "Al" Ulven had passed away a matter of minutes before.

Al befriended our family in the early 1970's and our families did a lot together over the years. As time went by he became a bachelor again and my parents continued to play three handed Spades with him. When I got older, I found myself roped into different misadventures with him at the beginning of the decade onward.

One memorable misadventure was assisting Al in retrieving the trailer to his beloved boat that he acquired after retirement. This little escapade involved sneaking the trailer through back roads, as he decided to pull the empty monstrosity with his battered old station wagon. While it had a hitch, there was no provision for wiring the lights, which meant it shouldn't be on the road. That meant sneaking around on back roads, mostly gravel, in a station wagon that acted like it was going to die at any moment.

Compounding the problem was that it was a 95 degree day, with humidity around 98 percent. As the exhausted car pulled the heavy trailer, it became too much for the engine and it began to overheat in a very serious way. That did not deter Al, for very little could once he decided to do something. At first, we pulled over and turned the car off to cool the engine, then started uphill again. The overheating came back with a vengeance.

So I recommended lowering the windows and cranking the heater all the way up, an old car trick I'd learned from a TV show on restoring autos. That helped somewhat, but it wasn't comfortable. Then the rain began. Only so much water was allowed in before we had to raise the windows and only so much suffocating heat could be tolerated before we had to lower them again. This went on for an agonizing hour, as we could only make about 20 mph at best in the hills. Often we were creeping at a much slower pace.

None of this phased Al in the slightest.

Eventually, a real thunderstorm passed through that forced us to the side of the road. We waited it out and after it had passed, the temperature had dropped radically, giving the car cool enough air that it could labor home.

After we backed the trailer into his yard, Al turned to me and cheerfully said, "Pat, my boy, we made it!" followed by one of his satisfied chuckles.

That was Al.