By Edward Master
Recently, Turkey City lost a native son, Gary Francis Dee. The son of John and Martha Dee, Gary grew up on the family farm near where I-80 now runs just north of town. I don’t recall how long it’s been since I saw Gary in person, but I’ve stayed in contact with his spouse Paula.
Gary could be considered, putting it mildly, a car enthusiast and big-time racing fan. That is how I remember Gary--cars. I guess you could say Gary has passed on to that great raceway in the sky.
First, I remember Gary’s coral-colored 1957 Chevrolet. But, the fact it was a ‘57 with those smallish fins really set the model apart from others. I don’t recall whether the car had an automatic or standard transmission. The coral color was a mildly popular hue at the time, and I recall a neighbor in town with a similar paint job. Gary kept that Chevy spotlessly clean.
His second automobile I believe was a 1960s black Corvette. The ‘Vette was a two-seat coupe with red interior. It was a beauty. It may have been equipped with a three-speed in between bucket seats. Because it was a mid-60s car, it didn’t have that sleeked-down look yet of the later Corvette models. I guess you could say it was a hold-over of the classic muscle cars, without a super-sized engine.
I learned in his obituary, that Gary had attended Penn State (DuBois) majoring in civil engineering. That can explain why my father often came in contact with him. I believe working with PennDOT probably put him on Bracken’s Glenfield job on I-79 above Pittsburgh. Dad would sometimes regale us at home with tales of Gary’s son Jonathan’s and daughter Krissy’s latest exploits. I think that’s where a real bond grew between the two guys from Turkey City.
Years before, when Gary was a youth, my older brother Jack helped pull him out of a swimming hole accident. I am too old to remember details other than just something that happened. In later years, Gary joined the local lodge (Masons) and eventually became a Shriner. My father had a keen interest in this because he already was in the Shrine.
With the Shrine, my father was among a group of fellow local Clarion County Shriners who would attend gatherings at the Elk County Shriners’ club house periodically. As those fellows eventually passed on that socializing, my dad took to inviting Gary and Gary’s childhood buddy, Len Carroll, to the festivity. I recall going once.
The gathering was at a place called Pig’s Ear. Fortunately for me, my brother-in-law, Larry McCall, decided to drive. We traveled north of Kane, PA, and then on a side road off route 66. We were in the middle of the woods, in the middle of I don’t know where. We cooked steaks and chicken over an open fire pit. Under a small pavilion, sat a large jar of melted butter in which we could dip an ear of corn on the cob. There was also a liver paste with onions that I avoided like the plague. I have never been a fan of anything liver. We had plenty of refreshment on tap.
I firmly believe that a subtle reason behind dad asking Gary to the Shriner festivities was that my brother wasn’t around to ask. My brother had passed away and I was usually living away. Gary would have been a surrogate son, a surrogate kinship.
I do have one final anecdote, however. I would have been unmarried and home for the Christmas/new Year holidays. I decided to get a beer one night at the nearby Pines Inn in St. Pete. At that time, Ray and Emma Karns were still the proprietors. The bar itself was still at ground level. I walked in and lo and behold who is there, but Gary Dee and bud Lennie Carroll. I don’t recall how long we were there; I don’t recall how many roads and bridges we built, but I’m sure that time involved more than one game of shuffle board. I know we drank more than one holiday concoction with rum, gladly supplied by Ray and Emma. It is a fond memory and one that I will always treasure.
Rest in peace my friend.
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