Pictured is the famous “Family of Three”
By Chuck Wiser, I write the words to share what my eyes see and my heart feels
At the risk of writing a Wrambling that is all melancholy, I begin this article mentioning the three best friends in my lifetime. Why Dave Dunbar, Tom Geyer and LJ Muscato have already passed onto their ultimate resting place ahead of me, puzzles me. Those three were taken way too early in life. They are still alive however, in my heart. The TLC in the title represents the triumvirate Family of Three consisting of three of the four listed above. Dave Dunbar, often mentioned, and written about by me, sang and composed music in my life beginning in the early 80’s and therefore was technically not a member of the Family of Three. Despite that lack of distinction Dave introduced me into the world of music publications.
October 28th, was the sad anniversary of LJ’s departure from this earthly life in 2022. His daughters Stephanie, Melissa, and Samantha shared that remembrance on Facebook on the 28th this year. That remembrance was what inspired this Wrambling writing.
TLC was born and developed throughout the early 70’s and continues to this day albeit lacking the the other two patriarchs of the family. The three of us met as members of an Air Preheater Co. (APCO) Bowling league. We knew each other casually having worked together in one of the Engineering departments of that company. The family blossomed and grew having shared that APCO bowling league and through various social family functions of that organization.
TLC really tightened the weave of the closely knitted family as we started our family camping adventures at Deer Run Campground on Jones Road in Andover. Our families became inseparable. We worked together, played together, and shared family growth and development together.
Weekend mornings often would begin at 6 AM as the three guys woke early and made the trek to Six S golf course just off Rte. 19 between Belmont and Angelica. Golf on that course could begin as early as 7 AM as Bill and Marsha Short were up, around and busy already at that time. Tom was the best golfer of the lot and I, never having played golf before, was the fledgling. I could easily “out drive” the other two having a slight height advantage. The only problem is that it didn’t always go straight. If anyone reading this is old enough to have played at Six S, then they will recall the “dog leg” first hole. I could drive to the corner of the dogleg giving me an advantage unless one of the other two could hit their ball up and over the corner cutting the length of the hole considerably. As a group we would often travel around trying out golf courses in other areas.
Among the other courses visited were Woodlyn Hills in Nunda, Bolivar Golf Course in Bolivar, Twin Hickory and Hornell Country Club in Hornell. There were a couple of other courses as we met and befriended Rochester native John Bungo, after he began camping at Deer Run.
Family excursions included camping at Stony Brook State Park and as mentioned, Deer Run.
Our adventures were not all play, however. As far as working adventures go LJ was the main one, I most often bothered or utilized, as he was always “Game” to help me out. It didn’t matter when, what time, or what job. LJ would be there if beckoned.
The following LJ Events may not be chronologically, or any logically, oriented order but rather as they drift into my memory.
The first coming to mind, likely because of its “elevated humor,” is the tree trimming adventure that saw yours truly trying to access an upper limb to cut it. I needed to get our “pull rope” higher in the tree so as to have some leverage to tip it in a desired direction. LJ handed me the rope with a hammer attached at the end of it, giving the throw rope weight to allow the throwing. You’ll have to pardon the crude language that follows but…as I stood atop the ladder, I threw the hammer that was attached to the rope over a higher limb. The hammer easily went where aimed but then it continued its trajectory swinging around the limb and toward my ladder hitting me squarely “in the nuts.” LJ was laughing so hard he literally fell to the ground rolling about. That, in and of itself, humored me.
Another adventure featured a trip to get a long slender tree to use as a railing around our campfire “pit” at our camper at Deer Run. I had a “contract” with the county to cut trees from the Vandermark State Forest. We only had my small Datsun pickup truck available so after cutting the perfect 4- or 5-inch diameter tree, we had to figure out how to transport it. No problem, we would support the tree between the passenger side rear view mirror, which extended out from the cab of the truck a sufficient distance. Then we built an “outrigger” at the back of the truck bed that extended away from the truck far enough to support the cut “pole”. All LJ had to do was hang out the window helping to hold the pole in place while we “crept” along the Vandermark road, up over Pixley Hill Road, Down Cty. Rte. 12 to Jones Road, up the hill, and down into Deer Run.
The third memory wasn’t as dangerous or exciting but in fact displayed LJ’s willingness to help out a friend. I was having some mechanical problem with my truck in the March of ‘72 or ’73 and needed to change a part or something in the freezing weather. LJ was a little better mechanically inclined than I was, so he offered to help-out with the repair. It was freezing cold. Undaunted LJ stayed right with the job until the repair was completed. His payment was most likely a “cold” Milwaukee’s Best beer.
The last story is more along the lines of my payback to LJ responding to a middle of the night assist in getting home to his house in Allentown. After a night out and driving his white “van” type vehicle LJ had hit a slick spot in the road on the downhill side of the hill which sported the Long View Motel and spun around making contact with the trees on the side of the road. A few yards further west or less east and he would have been over an embankment, but he hit trees. His car was drivable, but his taillights were busted, and he was leery of driving it the rest of the way home. His solution involved me going to meet him and escorting him home by following close enough behind him so that any other vehicles couldn’t come up on him from behind.
Those are just a few of the “memorable moments” with my “other brother from another mother.”
Bringing Tom Geyer back into the picture Tom and Larry served to me as “close brothers.” I didn’t have any biological brothers, so Tom and Larry filled that role.
RIP Tom and Larry ❤️💕.
I will leave you now with another poem that again features the “Family of Three”, already shared a week or two ago, but as a slightly different version, and edited some. Once again I sign off with the invitation for you to reach out to me, as a few have done recently, if you have any questions, cares or concerns, or just want to establish a new friendship. Thank you, Charles Van Heck, and Bill Doerler for having invited me into your lives through these Wramblings.
