Chapter 7: Cousin Mike

Some people say that we shouldn’t have “favorite” relatives, but I think we all do. My favorite cousin is Mike Duke. Mike was my mother’s brother’s eldest son. He lived with my Grandma Duke, his father, Uncle Charlie, and his brother and two sisters, Pat, Marilyn, and Charlotte. I would visit grandma’s house often, especially if I knew that she was baking bread. I’ll talk about that in another chapter. They lived three blocks from us on Queen Anne Hill in Seattle.

It’s hard to describe Mike. First and foremost, he was a nice guy. Everybody loved Mike, well at least almost everybody loved him. He was really down to earth.

Mike didn’t like school so much. Right after he graduated high school, he started working at a lumber yard in Seattle. I believe that he was always a hard worker, but he also partied hard. That was his main problem, drinking too much.

When I was working at the IGA Supermarket after I graduated high school, Mike new when I got paid. He also knew what street I walked along to get home. His house was about halfway between my workplace and my house. Once, while I was walking home from work, Mike drove by me, by chance, and asked if I wanted a ride home. Of course, I said yes and jumped into his convertible. I think it was a Pontiac Bonneville. He started heading away from my house. I asked where he was going, and he said he wanted to stop by and see some of his friends. We ended up at a bar in Ballard, about a 20-minute drive away. I told Mike that I was only 19 and the drinking age is 21. He told me that it wasn’t a problem since he knew the bar owner. We sat in a corner booth with his three friends. He ordered two pitchers of beer, and of course, I paid. Soon, two cops were walking outside the window and looked in and saw us. I told Mike the cops were coming inside, he told me to not worry about it and just act natural. I think all of the copes around there knew Mike and liked him. They came in and talked with Mike a few minutes and then left. It was hard acting natural in a situation like that.

Cousin Mike and cousin Jerry McAvoy built a chopped down hotrod from the wheels up. They made many trips to the car junkyards and bought car parts piece by piece. A frame, doors, fenders, etc. They welded and soldered the pieces together. They painted it a shiny black. You couldn’t find a drop of oil or dirt on the engine. Parts of the engine were chrome plated. It was a beauty. Mike let his friend use the car to take his girlfriend out on a date. The interior wasn’t finished. He used old worn-out sofa cushions as seats. His friend was smoking and dropped an ash in the cushion while parking the car in my uncle’s garage. During the night, the car and garage burnt to the ground.

Once, after drinking at the bottom of Queen Anne Hill, Mike was heading home after midnight. He noticed smoke coming out of a building. The first floor were shops and the second floor had apartments. Mike started beating on the doors telling people to get out. I am sure that he saved some lives. The firemen who put out that fire were the same firemen who later put out my uncle’s garage fire. Some of them cried along with Mike while looking at the pile of melted metal.

Whenever I visited Seattle while in the military, my first stop, of course, was to see my parents. But my second stop was always to visit with Mike. Once in a while I received an expensive bottle of whiskey from friends here in Japan. I would save them and give them to Mike. I knew that Mike shouldn’t drink too much, but whether or not I gave him some alcohol, he would find some to drink. Probably something cheap. He told me several times how delicious it was. He said that he would only drink a little at a time to enjoy it.

Mike died too soon. He had lung problems for several years. I know that smoking and drinking didn’t help, but I think that working at the Alcoa’s Intalco aluminum smelter in Ferndale, Washington, caused much of the problem. Safety regulations at work back then weren’t so strong. Workers should have been made to wear masks, etc. Some people sued the company because of their health problems, but Mike was hard-headed and wouldn’t sue them.

I really love and miss Mike so much and the many interesting stories that he told.

Here are some photos of Mike and the car that he and Jerry built.