I told him that I could do it in half an hour to which Bernie laughed and needled me endlessly. He said there was no way anybody could get to the top of that mountain in just half an hour…it’s further than you think…it has false summits, etc. So of course the challenge/bet was on. I can’t recall if there was anything wagered other than pride and right to be right or the right to prove someone wrong. There didn’t really need to be anything else beyond that.

Sometime later that day, Grandpa and Grandma turned the lawn chairs around facing north. Grandpa had binoculars in hand and his watch was the official time piece. I took off at a rapid pace toward the foot of the mountain and then up I scrambled across the scree, slipping and sliding as I raced up-slope, grabbing onto anything I could, even though I was accustomed to the altitude, I recall my head pounding like crazy. When I was very near the top, I found a small clearing and took off my white tee shirt and waved it to make sure that Grandpa could see me. Then I continued the short distance to the very top where I learned later I could be clearly seen from below.

I scrambled back down and found that my official time was 20 minutes! Even faster than I thought I could do it. Now, one would think that the best part would be that I beat Bernie but that was not the case. The best part by far was seeing my Grandpa VanAmburg so excited that I had beaten Bernie so handily. He was just laughing, cajoling Bernie and enjoying the moment, giving Bernie a hard time with as if he were the one who had won the race. Grandpa made sure that Bernie didn’t forget how badly he had been bested as he kept bringing it up at every opportunity for the rest of the weekend.

When I remodeled the basement I covered the water shut-off valve with cabinets, which made access difficult. I was talking to Bernie about something else and mentioned the problem I was having. He had a solution that I used that turned out great! I don’t think I would have ever thought of it on my own!

As the residents of Chaparral Circle well know, my house has been in a state of remodel, since forever! Bernie always worried that I was fixing it it up to sell it. I would tell him “No, this is what I like to do and have put too much time and effort into this house to sell it!” I don’t think he believed me. It’s nice to know that he cared whether or not I moved. I wish he could have seen clearly what the house looks like now! I hope he would like it!

I miss him,

Ed Malin (neighbor)

Sincerely loving you,
Grace Love

God is probably bugging him for an autograph! :0)

I am so fortunate to have had an in depth conversation with him just a few years ago while he was still here on this earth.
We discussed religion,philosophy, and the best advice he gave me which was to find myself a good woman to take care of me (which I have not done!!) ..And which He did exceptionally well with my Aunt Georgia!

All of my love, and regards to all. We will see Uncle Bernie again!! LOVE!!!!!

-Bobby McGraner

The older I became, the more my brief and altogether too infrequent visits with Bernie meant to me as I had come to the realization of who I was dealing with. A singular wit, quick with a pun or appreciation of one, a towering intellect who never failed to impress me with the depth and scope of his knowledge and experiences.

All of this is good and fine, but when I think of Uncle Bernie, I often think of his flying squirrel habitat in the basement of the house in Glenwood and sitting for hours waiting for the critters to move. I remember him besting me at water fights in the Hot Springs pool and later mimicking his technique to best my siblings and cousins. Fierce croquet matches and never winning one. Also, I have him to thank for my longtime childhood fear of the Flying Monkeys in the Wizard of Oz…but that’s another story!

I love you Unvle Bernie!

When I was littler, he always kept me entertained in numerous ways, whether it was beating me at chess, teaching me how to use different tools, drawing pictures with me on the cards he always carried around in his pockets, or tricking me into looking away while he stole my food. I remember the first time I beat him at chess. We were out camping, and he and I were in the camper playing, and I remember running out to tell everyone that I had just beat him in chess. I knew I had actually won, because he never would let me win. He’d probably beaten me 100 times before that.

He told so many stories, many of them multiple times, but one that always sticks with me is a story about how one time he flicked a bug into a fire when his dad was watching, and his dad scolded him for killing the bug meaninglessly. It seems like such a small thing, but I refer to that story all the time when weighing morals of decisions.

I’m glad that I got to live so close by to him in the last 12 years of my life, ever since we moved from Albuquerque to Glenwood. I’ve learned so many things from him… including a large number of bad, yet, given the right occasion, extremely funny jokes. I’ve always been impressed with his incredible ingenuity and creativity when it comes to his inventions and contraptions. Sometimes I’m surprised how often I find myself thinking about what he would do in a problematic situation, or how often I tell a joke that reminds me of him. I’ve certainly been influenced by him in many ways.

Every time I hear a pun, I think of him. I don’t think that will ever change for as long as I live. I don’t think he ever missed an opportunity to make a joke off a pun. Ever. He even found ways to make a pun out of something if there wasn’t an opportunity to make one.

I’m grateful to have had such an incredible grandfather as Bernie. He’ll always be one of my biggest heroes for his creativity and genuine personality, and for being such a great mentor and friend to me. I could write an extraordinarily long book on the memories I have of him and the things he taught me. I will always love and miss him.

Van