Everybody Has a Story: Uncle Bun hopped to aid of haystacked girls

His name was Tobey, but we called him Uncle Bun. Even Mama called him Bun. Mama was a young widow who’d lost her husband in a horrific sawmill accident. She had three little girls to raise. Uncle Bun was her youngest brother. At the time of this story, he was in his early 20s, still single, and living at home with my grandparents.

These were the early 1930s. Our home was in a little sawmill town in western Washington. My grandparents had a small farm just at the outskirts of town. With cows, chickens and other farm animals, they were able to make a living in those Depression days.

Their house was on one front corner of the property, and Mama and her three girls lived in a small house on the other front corner. The farm yard was in between the two houses, with chicken houses and a large barn where the cows were milked.

With a creek running through the property and the woods nearby, we three girls could always find plenty of outdoor fun. I was the middle child. My older sister, Virginia, and I were close in age, so we were usually together in our adventures.

In the fall, when the weather was cool and rainy, one of our favorite things to do was to play in the hay loft of the barn. Of course, we would first have to ask Mama. She always needed to know where we were. On this day ,she gave her permission, so we eagerly headed for the barn. Half of the barn was where the cows were milked but the entire other half was packed full of fresh, clean hay. As the lower half was filled, the hay was then piled in the loft nearly to the barn roof. There was a handmade ladder nailed up, reaching to the loft. Up, up, up we would climb, then step out onto the hay loft, where we would jump and slide in the nice, clean hay.

This day, we were happily jumping and sliding side by side when suddenly we found ourselves on a giant slide! Down, down we went, faster than lightning, till we found our feet touching the ground. With our noses pressed tightly against the rough barn boards and a barn full of hay holding us fast, we were trapped and unable to move!

We both began to scream. I was yelling “Help! Help!” Virginia chimed in with “Mama! Mama!” Mama was in the house, but she heard the commotion and came running.

Now what we didn’t know was that we were trapped right behind the big barn door where the hay was brought in. There was a big heavy timber outside on the ground, holding the door closed. Mama tried desperately to move it out of the way but it wouldn’t budge. She went running for Grandmother’s house, hollering “Bun! Bun!” Mama was not the athletic type, but on that day she made record time.

Uncle Bun came flying out the back door and off the porch. A high fence and gate didn’t slow him down a bit. He hit the gate running, knocking it off its hinges and flat onto the ground!

He had no problem locating the source of the trouble, with two kids screaming their heads off. He reached the barn with Mama not far behind. With a mighty tug he moved aside the heavy timber and flung open the big barn door. Out tumbled two hysterical little girls, unharmed and very thankful to be free. How fortunate we were that Uncle Bun happened to be home from work that day!

This story is to honor my good Uncle Bun. Though he never had children of his own, he always made time in his busy life to be a good friend to three little girls who had lost their father.

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