My Great Friend Ralph

I met my future father in-law Ralph at my future wife’s home in 1999 or so. His daughter, Karen, had a little party at her house and invited some of us from work. In an effort to avoid the crowd I tried hiding in the garage and, as luck would have it, the BEER was in the garage so Ralph and a few others were out there guarding said beer. Keeping my head down in an effort of human contact avoidance I shuffled toward the coolers, I saw the tops of Ralph’s shoes coming my way and knew I was going to have to “interact”. As I grabbed a beer, Ralph thrust out a large hand with a huge welcoming grin and said “Hi I’m Spaulding, you’ve played with my balls”

He roared a thunderous belly laugh and I knew right away this guy was alright. Just about then Karen materialized by his side, before I could warn her about this guy she said “this is my dad Ralph”. Seeing my quizzical look, Karen shot Ralph a look “you didn’t do the Spaulding thing did you?” “DAD”!

This was the beginning of a long and wonderful friendship. We had trips to Mexico with Ralph donning cowboy boots and swim trunks and a horrific faded green bucket hat. Ralph was a huge proponent of embarrassing his children and wife whenever possible and he made the most of every opportunity.

Ralph helped me build the backyard shed after Karen and I married, the family neglected to tell me that Ralph was about as mechanically inclined as a door stop. One day I admonished Ralph for his baggy pants and made a note to get him the suspenders that look like a tape measure seeing as he was now a assistant carpenter!

Moments later as we carried a truss from the curb to the backyard, I heard Ralph lament “Well, it finally happened” . Ralph had stopped abruptly and the truss conked me in the head, “shit Ralph what’s going on back there”? We dropped the truss and I turned to behold Ralph in all his glory

“RALPH PULL UP YOUR PANTS”!!!!!!!!!!

It didn’t seem to faze Ralph that his pants were resting comfortably around his ankles,but he methodically pulled them back up, thus sparing what remained of my optic nerve .

Now that he was back to a fully clothed status, Ralph and I struggled to get the first truss in place. With our backs to each other it was hard for me to figure out exactly what the problem was on Ralph’s end of the truss as we pulled and pushed furiously, getting nowhere fast.

I finally said “stop stop stop, just put your end down Ralph”. I balanced my end on the already completed wall where it would soon be nailed and climbed down the ladder. And what a sight to behold, Ralph clutching his jeans in one hand while holding his end of the truss all the while trapped on the ladder unable to go further up or retreat! I took Ralph’s end and told him to toenail the other end in place while I held this end in place. The truss was heavy enough and certainly awkward enough that I couldn’t do anything more than keep it from tumbling 9 feet to the ground, taking Ralph and I and the ladders with it. After what seemed like an eternity of banging and what my trained ear recognized as MANY “missed nail swings”. Ralph ! Ralph! What in the hell are you doing over there???” This thing is HEAVY!!!”

RALPH: I think there is something wrong with your nails!!, they don’t want go into the wood”

I quickly retrieved a hammer and nail praying the truss would stay and not kill my helper, I climbed up the ladder behind Ralph to find

I secured Ralph’s end and we retreated to the cool shade of the patio

With that task complete Ralph happily announced “well I guess we should have a beer don’t ya think?” Ralph would calmly defuse a variety of situations by this phase or “nice weather we’re havin” or “ it’s about happy hour,what ya drinking?”

After all his help with the shed I could only wonder at the hilarity that must have ensued during the Barton Family cabin build on Casper mountain in 1977 or so. I pumped Ralph’s great friends, Herman and Fred, at every get together to enchant me with stories of Ralph’s ineptitude with any hand tool and they happily provided. Each tale, perhaps further embellished from the last telling just mere months ago, began with a deep heartfelt belly laugh that started somewhere in the arches of Fred or Herman’s feet! I would spy Ralph hiding his eyes with a hand as he joined the laughter, knowing in his good natured way that he was about to be ridiculed once again. The crew of friends working on the cabin always tried to find something befitting to Ralph’s carpentry skills, like painting the tar sealant on the concrete that would be backfilled with dirt and never seen. Or invented “parts” runs down the mountain to Casper for double headed nails and ALWAYS more beer. Ralph took all the ribbing in stride and would just assume his patented “what are ya looking at me for “ pose. Ralph had a calm in most all things that came his way, he cared not that he couldn’t run a hammer, or any other tool for that matter, and he was fine with that. A trait many of us could aspire to, a calmness in your own skin.

Ralph was know for many endearing traits and habits, one was giving ya the finger! I learned right away that Ralph rarely gave the finger in anger, with Ralph it was his personalized form of salutation! The FINGER was reserved for people he liked and cared for! During his long career as a Ski Patrol member on Hodagon Mountain, Ralph drove the mountain road thousands of times. Ralph knew many of the mountain residence as neighbors if not personal friends and they would sometimes get the bird on the way up and the way down! If someone got a new car, they would ask Ralph’s son, Jim, “Is Ralph mad at me? He stopped giving me the bird!!” Jims reply of “Just start giving him the finger first till recognizes ya” was welcomed with a joyful grin, and an eagerness to try it.

One Christmas I gifted Ralph a lifelike remote control hand THAT FLIPPED THE BIRD. He laughed like a little kid!!

Being the little kid at heart that he was, Ralph also enjoyed a good fart, particularly his own. One Christmas, while seating at the dinner table, Ralph was insistent that I occupy a particular chair once dinner commenced. Beaming with pride that Ralph wanted me to occupy a place of honor at the other head of the table seat, I merrily added two more chairs and scooched my chair to make room. My foot kicked something under the table!!! On blended knee I found a plastic box under my chair encased in duct tape that appeared to have been attached to the bottom of my chair. Unable to see what I found in the dim of the formal dinning room I retreated to the bathroom in search of light. What I had was something similar to this!!!!!!

THAT EVIL BASTARD!!!!

Ralph had played my pride like a fiddle, ensuring I was seated at the head of the table with the flatulence machine of embarrassment not so expertly taped underneath . Discreetly fetching new duct tape, I affixed the cut the cheese machine to Ralph’s chair!!!!

During a lull in the feast I noticed Ralph fumbling below the tablecloth, no doubt in search of the right button, just then, a thunderous bellowing of a fart emitted from Ralph’s direction. The entire table turned in unison to stare at Ralph, many can imagine Ralph’s look of bewilderment as he furiously pressed the button hoping for a different outcome. The realization hit Ralph and he turned to me and silently mouthed “you son of a bitch you”. His bellowing laughter almost drowned out Lucille’s admonishment of “Ralph J. Barton”!!! As the table joined the joke.

I heard many stories that occurred years before I became part of the family, most were of world travels with friends and family, many of the misadventures were with Herm or Fred or some or all the rest of his gang, and many stories of Ralph’s humor and acts of kindness. I experienced this kindness many times, one example involved my dog Junior. Junior was at the end of his life’s journey when Ralph accompanied me to Fort Collins to try and buy Junior a few more months at the veterinary college. Previous trips by Karen and Junior yielded 2-3 months of relief, but on this trip, Ralph and I were told the well has run dry as we stood in the exam room watching Junior pace. Ralph loved Junior as much as I did and we both shed tears as we said our goodbyes. Ralph embraced me and comforted me as I sobbed like a child, this bear of a man, exposed his soft side to provide me comfort even amidst his own grief.

We drove in silence, except for the occasional sniffle, until the Wyoming line, when Ralph announced we should get a six pack and toast to Juniors life and adventures. The next 3 hours were as good as they could be, Ralph shared Junior memories and misbehaviors that I hadn’t been unaware of! In short Ralph extended a kindness to me that is rare, he gave freely of himself in an effort to ease my pain.

I learned early that dogs were unbelievably important to Ralph, the morning would start with a walk and yet another in early afternoon . Ralph’s lunch would be somewhere in between, complete with that fake Kraft cheese, doled out to each of the 4-5 dogs on hand on any given day. The crew was normally Ralph’s dog, Our dogs (2), his MIL’s dog, many times his sons dog, or a grandkids dogs, or YOUR dog. Ralph took to counting dogs as he loaded them into his slobber covered sedan in an effort to avoid bringing home an “extra”.I close my eyes and can see Ralph smiling broadly, an elbow on the door, the breeze in his face, one hand on the wheel at 12 o’clock, his canine laden car hurtling down college drive at 17 miles an hour with at least one dog out each window.

I have a hundred stories, but you get the idea of a fine man, a fine husband, and a loving father who past on his best traits to his three children, and for me, a Great Friend.

We said goodbye to Ralph November 1st 2023 at Central Wyoming Hospice in Casper Wyoming, but I still see his broad smile in every dog I meet.

I wont bore you with “you never know what tomorrow holds”

I’ll leave you with: enjoy the greatness of your great friends today and just as importantly aspire to be one as well.