CRY UNCLE VIII- Harry Burleson 1

My oldest brother, Herb, remembers an auto trip into the California desert with his grandparents, his cousin, and his grandmother’s sister. They were in grandpa’s Hupmobile, a big touring car, headed from Palm Springs to Imperial Valley when they came upon a biplane that was nosed down in a field about a hundred yards from the road.

This must have been 1926 or 27 and "flying machines” attracted crowds. Several cars had stopped along the side of the road and people were standing around, wondering how to get the plane righted – off its nose and back on its tail skid.

Herb, about six or seven at the time, remembers watching grandpa walk out through the sage brush to talk to some of the onlookers. He then returned to the car, open the trunk, which literally was a trunk, and pulled out his lariat.

Back at the plane, he deftly roped the tail of the plane with one thrown, and then he and others pulled on the rope and righted the plane.

Harry Burleson was resourceful and full of no-nonsense practicality. He also had a quick temper. Before they drove away, the car behind them accidently bumped their car.

Grandpa jumped out with fists clench.

“Now Harry, please don’t get in a fight,” grandma said. Words were exchanged, but there was no fight.

The episode left a lasting memory for my brother who repeats the tale to this day.

No one has said how Harry became so adept with a rope. He could build a loop with anything, even a clothes line, and Herb remembers him showing off with pet dogs, even building a figure-eight so that one end roped the neck and the other got the dog’s front legs.

As a young man, he may have worked as a cowboy. He was certainly an outdoors man. He told us he used to hunt deer in what is now the fully developed Santa Monica Canyon. He knew all about guns, and he looked to me like a tough, frontier lawman.

He seemed austere to us boys. The planes of his face were hard, stone-like, and he had a full mustache which I remember as clear white. He had blue eyes.

For all this, he loved books and could go through one in a few hours. He was the first speed reader I ever watched in action. Sitting in an arm chair, he would turn pages at a remarkable rate until he either finished the book of fell asleep. We were cautioned not to disturb him when he was reading.

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