Why Uncle Burt Turned

His Hat Around

By

J.P. Nix

        A story from my younger years…

          I must have been 9 or maybe even 10, when a relative of mine passed away in the mid 1970’s.  30 or so years have passed since then, and the memory of who it was has faded, but what happened after has not.

            Dad, Mom, and me were at Wards Funeral Home.  I have a large family on both sides, so it could have been anyone that had passed away.  But I believe the someone had to be on Mom’s side of the family because Dad wanted to leave, and my mother wanted to stay with the family. 

            “Paul”, Dad said to me.  “Let’s see if we can find a phone and see if we can get a hold of somebody to come get us.”

            “Ok,” I said.  “I don’t know where we’ll find one.”

            “No,” he agreed.  “But I do.  “Lets go find the office.”

            We found the front office; Dad fumbled with his wallet and retrieved a very small compact personal phonebook.  Remember that this was in the 1970’s before cell phones, PDA's, or internet.  He squinted his eyes as he turned the pages.

            Finally finding the number he wanted he picked up the phone and dialed.

            “Burt,” he said into the receiver.  “Nix here, you busy?”

            “John Paul and I are over here at Ward’s Funeral Home,” Dad explained.  “One of Mary Ann’s relatives died, and she wants to stay with the family.”

            Dad’s voice paused a few seconds, and then I heard him say, “Okay.  We’ll be out front.”

            He turned to look at me, “Go find you’re Momma and tell her your Uncle Burt is coming to get us.”

            I found Mom in the viewing room with other family members, and I heard some saying, “I can’t believe this happened.”  Following this was tears and similar phrases. 

            20 minutes or so passed when my Uncle Burt turned his VW van into the parking lot.  He waved at Dad and I as we went to the passenger side to get in.  Dad slid the van’s door opened for me to get in, waited til I was seated before sliding it closed.  Next Dad got in the passenger seat upfront next to Uncle Burt. 

            Uncle Burt was probably one of the friendliest folks around.  Always wore a smile or a big grin, and you could just tell by looking at him that the world never had a better friend or a better person.

 Tonight he had a brown fedora hat.  Nothing unusual about this.  Most of the men in my family at this wore a hat or cap most of time except when they were inside. 

The VW van teetered and tottered down the road.  Dad and Uncle Burt chatted.  I sat in the backseat and contemplated never seeing my relative who had just passed away again.

Looking up front, I saw my uncle take both hands off the steering wheel, turn his hat around,and then just as quick put his hands back on the wheel.

“Burt!” Dad yelled.  “What’da that for?”

“Nix,” my uncle said.  “Didn’t you see that black cat cross the road?”

“Oh come on Burt.  You don’t believe in that old wife's tell do ya?”

“You never can tell Nix.  You never can tell.”

A few days went by and I relayed what had happened to my mother.

“Why did Uncle Burt turn his hat around when that black cat crossed the road?” I asked her.

She smiled that mother’s smile, and explained, “When a black cat crossed the road in front of you it’s bad luck.  He turned his hat around because that is suppose to turn the luck around.”

            Years later after I had gotten married, my wife Nancy and I were going somewhere.  I was driving.  I had a baseball cap on.  A gray whitish cat crossed in front of our car.  I took my hands off the wheel, turned my cap around until it was on backwards, then put my hands back on the steering wheel. 

            “What’s wrong with you!” Nancy yelled.  “What did you do that for?”

            As my uncle had told my Dad, I said, “Didn’t you see that cat cross the road?”

            She looked puzzled, but only for a moment when she said, “You are not your Uncle Burt, and that cat wasn’t even black.”

            I looked at her and said, “You never can tell.  Better to be safe than sorry.”

                                    THE END