When I think of Uncle Gene, I don’t just remember my uncle. I remember a man who was woven into the fabric of our childhood and into the lives of my siblings and me in a way that is hard to put into words. We lived in Maryland, and Uncle Gene lived in Washington, D.C. But the distance never seemed to matter to him. Almost every weekend, he would take the bus from D.C. to come see us.. And we loved having him there. We also spent many weekends at his home in D.C. His house was within walking distance of the National Zoo, so going to the zoo became one of those special things we did together. Those weekends in D.C. are filled with memories that have stayed with me all these years. The walks, the zoo, the city, and most of all, the feeling of being with Uncle Gene. He was our uncle, but somehow he became so much more than that. Because he was such a constant and loving presence in our lives, everyone affectionately called him Uncle Gene. And eventually, he really did become everyone’s Uncle Gene. He had a way of making people feel that they belonged to him and that he belonged to them. He wasn’t just my uncle or my siblings’ uncle. He was the uncle people remembered, the uncle people loved, the uncle whose presence made life a little warmer. Looking back, I realize how special it was that he made the effort to be part of our lives. As children, we probably just thought, “That’s Uncle Gene—he’s coming this weekend.” We didn’t fully understand then that those visits were gifts. He was giving us his time, his love, and his presence, over and over again. My siblings and I were lucky to have him. Those weekends, those trips to the zoo, those days in D.C., and the countless ordinary moments we shared became extraordinary memories simply because he was there. Uncle Gene left a very big place in all of our hearts. He was our Uncle Gene.

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