carl willis

carl

Sadly learned of the passing of a friend who taught me a lot about rural culture in Lapeer, a way of life, and friendship. I will always carry with me his honest, unwavering friendship – maintained in the ways that he knew how. Some of the stark memories and realities that he shared with me and my family will always loom large in our minds and sometimes unsettle us.

Carl Willis moved into his farmhouse on Daley Road when he was seven years old with his mom and his two brothers. A few years later, Carl’s big brothers were both killed when they were hit by a train in town, where the trail now crosses near the plumbing place. Carl remembered what it was like when the sheriff came to the house and told his mom on February 13, 1951. Carl was about 11 at the time. He quit school to work the farm.

A few years later, Carl and his mom faced tragedy again when the barn burned down with the cows in it. He had a beloved horse, “Danny,” that ran back into the barn and was lost, too. Carl showed me pictures of him and Danny. A teenager at the time, Carl hadn’t had Danny very long, but he treasured him.

When I first moved to the area, I remember Carl standing shivering on my porch in the deep of winter wanting to know if I would buy some hay. For years, Carl heated the two rooms he lived in with kerosene heaters. Every winter was a crisis. Since he couldn’t read very well, we sorted through his paperwork and made phone calls to help him get assistance from the state.

Over the years, Carl developed quite a network of friends who helped him out with various things. I don’t have any idea who they all are – I know of some of them. He joyfully talked about Calvelli’s, where they always treated him like a king apparently. He was thrilled by Christmas dinner there. He was a regular at several restaurants and felt cherished by them.

My son frequently worked on Carl’s truck, trying to keep him on the road as best he could. He helped Carl put up hay. When my son graduated from high school, Carl gave him some items of clothing from his closet. It was what he had, and he wanted to make a gift on the occasion.

Carl spent time with us on a number of holidays, sharing in Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner, snoozing in the chair, and talking. Our lives were intertwined in the loosest sort of way, but still with deep ties, somehow. We wouldn’t see him for weeks at a time, but he was a thread in our lives.

Carl had a tough life, but he accepted everything and valued his friends. In recent years, Carl’s joys were his cats, of which he had many. He loved them all dearly.

Carl never had any children. He leaves behind no immediate family – no wife, no brothers or sisters, or aunts or uncles to eulogize him. There was no funeral and no obituary. Still, he etched a mark into our hearts and minds.

Miss ya, Carl.