Mabel Lewis's Comfort Jell-O

Reader Contribution by Chuck Mallory
Published on February 25, 2013
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Do you remember the first time you experienced real grief when a beloved relative died? Maybe relatives died in your young childhood, but you simply saw a lot of crying and didn’t really feel what happened.

My first experience was when “Unk” passed away. I was a teenager. It wasn’t a tragic accident. Great-uncle Lloyd, simply “Unk” to us, was 94, lived at home, and hadn’t experienced ill health. His heart simply gave out. Later I decided his longevity was due to him having “just a snoot” of “medicine” before bed each night. Today we’d call this a shot of whiskey. My people come from Kentucky, remember, so a good bourbon runs in our veins. Sometimes literally.

Young “Unk” with his cousin Edgar Botkins at the “baptizin’ spot” on the Salt River in north Missouri.

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