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As long as folks are flashing back....

My mother's Uncle John was a quiet, unassuming guy. He drove an old truck and dressed all in grey - something like you'd see from an old service station uniform. He could neither read nor write, but was a mechanical genius and had a small construction company. (He'd hire someone to do anything that involved reading or writing.)

He bid on a job to move a mill from La. to some place in Canada. He won, they said, because his was the only bid that didn't involved effectively destroying the bldg the current mill was in. He took out some kind of paint, marked all the parts, took everything down, got it to Canada, and reassembled it all without a problem. (I think he also got a bonus for fast completion.)

Because he couldn't read or write, he really didn't trust banks (what with all their papers, statements, etc.). When he got a check, he'd go to the bank, cash it, then go somewhere to buy gold, silver, gems, etc. I was told he'd ride around with a paper bag holding such things on the seat of his old pickup. What a guy; I wish he'd lived long enough for us to spend some time together.
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