Jerry Dennis Wheeler or just “Uncle Jerry” as most people knew him, had a long life of stories and work adventures that those that knew him best would hear over and over depending on what trigger word he heard.
Let me start with when and where he was born on November 23, 1937 in the small town of De Roche, Arkansas, just south of Hot Springs Arkansas. He was born to Pearl McClenahan, who at the time of his birth had two children Margaret and Charles Lee (Chuck) Cook – (my father)…well that’s another story. He always told the story of being born on a relative’s pig farm on a dirt floor cabin.
His birth name and father was somewhat a mystery over the years, which he worked hard to research and uncover who his real biological father was. First, he was a Cook (via Harvey Cook), but when his mother picked up from Arkansas and moved to San Pedro CA she created a delayed birth certificate in 1943 when Jerry was 6 years old, which stated the father was Jack Wheeler her current husband’s name so that people would know him as Jack Wheeler’s son. Harvey Cook was gunned down during the Prohibition era in Hot Springs Arkansas (which was like the Las Vegas of the time).
Uncle Jerry did a lot of genealogical and ancestry work to find out his real origin story ( which rubbed off on me, he encouraged me to take my DNA test cause apparently he took 5 of them.) In the 1980s he found his real birth certificate and his biological father was M.W. Stafford and in short time he was able to find his other siblings and spend some time in person and with phone calls before they all passed. This was a big part of his journey and he outlived all his siblings, including his older brother Richard “Dick” Wheeler and younger brother Wild Bill Wheeler, and most of his friends.
Jerry did not finish San Pedro High School in California, he opted to enlist on November 30, 1954 (his 17th birthday). He served until September 12, 1958 when he was honorably discharged. He received the National Defense Service Medal and the Good Conduct Medal. He studied aviation fundamentals and was on board U.S. Aircraft Carriers that went all over the world. One of his famous stories was how he got into the bars in Waikiki when he was only 17 years old by having his Navy buddies distract the bouncers while he slipped in behind them as their ID’s were checked.
Jerry held many jobs throughout his life, most of them revolving around his skills as a pipe fitting master. His jobs took him to places to live in the 60s and 70s, like Idaho where he worked as a forest ranger/fire fighter. He worked in Mobile, Alabama, and Houston, Texas, where he gained valuable experience collaborating with diverse communities. His background from California helped him connect with colleagues of different backgrounds. He often worked alongside Mexican coworkers, picking up some Spanish along the way, while also teaching them English.
Jerry was married once in Fort Bend, Texas on September 23rd, 1974 he was married for 10 years when his wife Kataryna Cholin passed. Kathy was the love of his life. He often doted over how he met her, how many languages she spoke, her amazing Russian Family history story during WW2 and living in Thunder Bay, Canada with her. Jerry did not have any children, but he did help raise Kathy’s son Tony Cholin.
In the 80’s he lost his job at the Papermill in Thunder Bay Canada and sold his home. They moved to Vancouver Island, and he worked in the NorthWest Territories at Pine Point. After he lost his wife he moved in with my mother Darleen Cook and I for sometime around 1984, he took two 6 month jobs working at the South Pole in Antarctica as a pipemaster. He worked side by side with international scientists, geologists etc. Spending time at the base pub absorbing theories and hypotheses they had on the world, creation, dinosaurs (bigfoot stories I’m sure). He even told the story of the 2,000 year old core samples of ice that they would pour their whiskey over and say we drank our whiskey with “Jesus Ice” because it was 2,000 years old.
His last job where he retired was the A.K. Warren Water Resource Facility in Carson California. I used to pass him on the way home from work as he rode his bike for exercise on the way home. Jerry was a member of the YMCA where he accomplished the golden sneaker club status for his workouts.
After he retired he moved to Duluth Minnesota to be close to his step son and his family, but soon found out how brutal the winters could be. He picked up golfing and traveled to Kansas to take lessons for a few years. He told me he was going to move to Reno Nevada to be halfway between my family in Bellevue WA and my mother in Southern California. I convinced him to live in Bellevue and he moved in 2009 and stayed ever since (refusing to take air flights or drive anywhere). He liked it so much he wanted to be buried here. He spent many years watching my kids sports in Bellevue and spending time over meals with us.
As you can see, he had a long life of changes and experiences. He always told me not to wait until retirement to do the things you want, because he waited and was limited by his ailments and breathing, I have taken that suggestion to heart.
Uncle Jerry taught me how to drive my first car, bought me a sport coat for my first interview, played online poker with the funniest avatars (sometimes he would change it to a woman or a young person to throw off the players he chatted with) I would sometimes join his games just so I could talk to him online. I am going to miss his Facebook political rants, one word text responses, movie critiques, his new car purchases, and complaining about parking in downtown Bellevue. I learned a lot from Uncle Jerry and he was more than an Uncle and he didn’t have to be. He and my Mom both lost their spouses and he spent many days, lunches, dinners, and attended social gatherings with her and I truly thank him for that. They are all together now laughing and telling the same old stories.
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