Arizona interval.

I've been in Arizona since the last week in January. It wasn't a planned trip. I got a call from Dark in LA saying that my Uncle Jack was in the hospital and I should hurry if I wanted to see him. That was the second worst phone call I have ever received. The first was to tell me BC had died.

For maybe the first time in my life I was glad I had money. I chartered a plane and was over the Atlantic within 2 hours. Another first - for the first time I flew transcontinental without drinking. I wanted to be clear headed and sober when I landed. I kept playing one of those ridiculous games you play as a child making bargains with God. "Please God, don't let him die before I get there and I will ... do anything you want. Please God, let Uncle Jack know that I'm there and ... I promise to ... be good for the rest of my life". It was a long flight and I had plenty of time to bargain and to worry.

My Uncle Jack was my mother's baby brother, the youngest of seven. He was also my last living uncle. Jack was my favorite uncle for thousands of reasons. He was also the favorite sibling of all his brothers and sisters. They all loved Jack. My grandmother, who after giving birth to her seventh child might have had reason to be matter of fact about him, said he was the sweetest child of all her children. His brothers looked out for him and his sisters adored him. It's a wonder he turned out like he did with all the spoiling.

Uncle Jack was the first adult that talked to me as an equal. He didn't talk down to me or ignore my childish concerns. He patiently answered all my questions in detail and always seemed glad to see me. As soon as he could after graduation Jack moved to Arizona from Texas. Jack was in love with the Southwest his entire life. Jack also loved horses. He raised them, trained them and sold them. And he had a second career as an extra in westerns shot in Phoenix and Tucson.

Many of the TV westerns I grew up on were filmed at Apacheland Studios in the Superstition Mountains around Phoenix and Jack worked in most of them. Have Gun, Will Travel; Wanted: Dead or Alive,Death Valley Days, Dundee and the Culhane, Stagecoach West, and Zane Grey Theater were all shot at one time or another at Apacheland. Jack was head wrangler there, supplied most of the horses for the series and movies and took bit parts. I loved to show my friends my cowboy uncle on TV, great bragging rights when you are an eight year old.

Every year for as long as I could remember my parents would take me to Uncle Jack or he would drive to Houston and pick me up during summers and I would stay for several weeks.
He taught me to ride a horse. Hell, he taught me many things. I doubt I would have become an Eagle Scout if not for Jack. When I got my presidential letter I gave it Jack. He framed it and it still hangs on the wall of his den.

He took me to Apacheland and I got to meet all sorts from the actors to the wranglers, the directors, make up people, grips, and extras. It fueled my interest in acting. Jack always supported my interests. When I did plays and musicals in Houston he often drove from Arizona to see me perform. He hated flying and always drove. My dad might have missed many of my shows but not my Uncle Jack.

As I got older my relationship with Jack grew stronger. I could talk to him about anything and did. I told him I was gay before I ever told my parents. His reaction was important to me. He never missed a beat, told me right away that he didn't care who I loved as long as they loved me back. My own parents reaction was not as understanding. In fact, my father told me I should stay away from home for a while because my mother was so upset. That was a gut punch. I told him they would have to ask me over before I would visit again. When Uncle Jack heard about it he evidently read my mother the riot act. Later she would tell me he told her he had never been so ashamed of her. He told her I was going to need more of her love not less and that he was disappointed in her. That probably shook her up more than my news. In any case my parents and I worked through it.

Over the years BC and I made a point to visit Jack. Those two got along famously. He always introduced us to people as his boys. Jack came to Houston when BC died. He sat on my left with Paula at my right during the funeral. BC's death shook Jack. A year later when I tried to commit suicide his was one of the first faces I saw when I regained consciousness. He flew to Tennessee as soon as he was informed. He had white knuckled it the entire flight just to get to me. He didn't lecture me about it. He just asked me to promise him I would never do it again. And I gave him my word that I wouldn't.

One of the first weekends after I moved to LA to be with Dark I took him to meet Uncle Jack. Later I asked him what he thought of Dark and he just said "The man loves you. That makes him aces in my book." That was Jack, simple and straightforward.

For the last two months I have run back and forth between the hospital and Jack's ranch. I would feed the horses and put them in the pastures then run to the hospital and stay all day then race back to bring the horses to the barn and blanket them. Nights were still cold for a while. Jack's neighbors came by and helped out. His friends were many. As he grew weaker and speech got harder I started bringing him books and I sat and read to him. I had just finished reading Louis L'Amour's A Trail to the West two days go when he died. I was holding his hand. Per his wishes I had him cremated and I picked up his ashes this morning. This weekend I'm going to saddle up his horse and take him up in the Superstition Mountains and scatter his ashes.

I dropped everything to come to Jack's bedside. I told Scott he had to run the company until I could return. I'm lucky my partner is also my good friend. He just told me to go. A large portion of the success I have achieved in business I owe to Jack. I went to Jack for advice when I wanted to start my first company. He talked it through with me and told me to go for it. One week later I got a check in the mail for $25,000 from Jack with a note - "dream big". That stake got me started. When I sold the company later Jack got a check for over a million dollars for the ten percent of the company I had given him in gratitude. He used to laugh with people that he could never get mad at me I made him rich. But it was Jack that made my life richer. I opened Jack's will today. It was simple like Jack. It was dated 1973 with two codicils added in 2006. He left everything to me with a bequest to the Superstition Mountain Museum. The original will had a bequest to BC for $10,000. The other codicil gave Dark the same amount. That was my Uncle Jack for you.

I have a lot to do yet. I can't bring myself to sell the ranch right now. Besides there are Jack's horses to take care of. So here I am in Arizona trying to figure out my next move. Only this time I can't talk to Jack about it.