My cousins Leesa and Dana had told me earlier in the month how Loran had been ill with COVID-19 as he was battling the virus in an Iowa hospital. The location puzzled me but upon further explanation, he was in the process of moving to Arizona for his declining health when he tested positive with symptoms. His spouse Gayle is in quarantine sans visible symptoms. Let me answer the obvious question…no, he wasn’t vaccinated which is a damned shame given that people his age were put to the front of the queue long ago. And no, it wasn’t a surprise he wasn’t vaccinated given his stances.
Writing about Loran is a bit trickier than Skip, Chief or Letty too. I last saw him in person during Gradma’s (Maggi) funeral as the Summer of 1985 was winding down. He did come all the way from Alaska to have a final conversation with her before she died and made it to the funeral. He was in tears too. Unfortunately, there was tension between (at least) him and my father, namely some actions Loran was doing I will leave out. They rarely got along until the end since Loran’s death was first announced to me in an SMS message; somebody gave Dad my number as we haven’t spoken in 18 years. You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead is the cliché (for a while) so I will honor that for his children, the only two I’ve ever communicated with are his oldest son, Ron (a huge reason for me deleting FeceBook) and daughter Cara, who is cool but disappeared as her Xmas card bounced back. Ergo, I don’t have any good anecdotes involving him. When I was a little kid and he lived around Ottawa near Uncle Skip, Aunt Letty and Grandma, we’d talk a bit yet it wasn’t any different than other adult-kid interactions.
In the end, he was a person who did the best he could based upon his circumstances, life decisions and reputation. He wasn’t evil but he was “that uncle” as the Daily Show and other left-leaning comedies would brand him. To be fair, I’m probably “that cousin” as per Fox News, The National Review and OAN. It’s nice to posit that he and my old man appeared to have some reconciliation before the end came. They were close in age which meant there were good times during their childhoods.
I will close with one funny story which could give you non Maggis an idea of who Loran was before being drafted into the Army to serve in Vietnam.
Quick aside, Loran was very fortunate in the pointless and unnecessary conflict, he didn’t participate in any (major) fighting and was spared the frightening PTSD I’ve witnessed from other veterans.
Anyway, my maternal grandmother wrapped up her teaching career at Ottawa High School, the alma mater of multiple Maggis. In a conversation, Grandma (Maier) brought up how my mother got married. When asked to whom, I can imagine she said something to the effect of, “Oh the Maggi boy,” which led to, “Oh my god! Seriously? He was a hell raiser and often in trouble! But his father would come down to defend him no matter what.” Pale with shock and ready to collapse, Grandma responded, “That was Steve?” The respondent said, “What? No. Steve was fine, played football. I was talking about Loran.” Knowing how über-Catholic Grandma was, while she was panicking, I’m confident she was calculating how to get my mother an annulment from the Pope until a first name came up.
I can only hope my Uncle Loran will live on as a warning about the dangers of not getting vaccinated against any preventable illness regardless of the cure’s efficacy.