My Memories of Tio Wallie

A few short years ago, (actually about 20), I received an early morning phone call, the conversation began something like this, “Hey Sherwood, lets go to Mexico!”. This was the beginning of one of the many adventures I have been blessed with sharing with my uncle, Wallace B. Heap, Tio Wallie to me. I guess I always felt special kinship with Wallace, and as I contemplate his passing, my mind attempts to understand this special relationship I feel we had. Very possibly having the same blood flowing through bodies and minds had a lot to do with it , but it was more than that.

It seems we thought alike about in so many areas of life. I have never personally known another soul that loved to travel the way Wallace did. The wonderful part, he liked to travel the way I did. My wife Debbie has a big heart and the patience of my old gopher catching cat Susie Pickles, who will wait hours at a fresh gopher hole for the moment the rascal pops his head up. But she just can’t get into traveling the way Wallace and I did.

The aforementioned mini adventure started as a simple trip to see the Copper Canyon in Mexico and ended in a 10 day tour to the bottom of Mexico. Wallace was a pleasure to travel with, he didn’t mind traveling “on the cheap” as he referred to getting the most out of our traveling dollars. This meant traveling on the bus, eating where the bus drivers did ,and very often sleeping on the bus while traveling at night, to allow the days for seeing the sights. This method of saving a motel bill now and then allowed us to see more, and stay longer.

With these stories, I could fill pages, and still wouldn’t do justice to the real experience. The hours on the train to Copper Canyon. The entertainment we both derived as we watched several Mexican men attempting to fix a flat with out tools, in one of the most primitive places in Mexico. In retrospect I wonder how they even got that truck there with no roads, no towns, only an old wornout 1930’s railroad, with a train running twice a day. I have wondered since how many people would have enjoyed, as much as we did, watching the working of the human minds and body’s in overcoming this chore, that would been simple in civilization, but became a major undertaking here.

The freedom we both felt when Wallace asked if I wanted to go on to Oaxaca, kinda like, “shall we stop by the store on the way home?“, was exhilarating. This poor old farm boy had no idea it was at the lower tip of Mexico, a hard days bus ride from Mexico City, which was 2 to 3 hard days on train and or bus ride from where we were. But being able to have the freedom, and the wherewith, to set out on an adventure with a good trusty travel companion, is something I think lots of people will never experience.

A one day stop over in Guadalajara, then two in Mexico City, and a few more around Oaxaca. I say around because we used the local “chicken bus” to provide transportation to the wonderful archeological sites within a few miles of town. These were special days with my personal tour guide, and it was incredible to have the time to read every word, see every artifact and quiz every stranger. In short, absorb every detail about these amazing civilizations.

I have learned from touring with larger groups that the attention span for most groups is closer to that of a teenage kid, with the “we saw it, now lets go” attitude. Wallace had been to the sites before ,but never with anyone who had just as much interest, if not more, and relished in the wonderful facts and sights that we experienced.

The Mietla Ruin site was reached on a one way local bus which required some faith, and a little apprehension, as to how we would go about getting home the 30 miles to our hotel. We ended up hitchhiking in the late afternoon and a guy in a Volkswagen bus, gave us a ride all the way back to Oaxaca. Little details like this still remain bright in my memory, though it was around 20 years ago.

While in Oaxaca, we experienced the La Dia Del Muerto and sampled chili powdered crickets, or grass hoppers, which were not something I would not try again, unless I was pretty hungry, the stickery legs didn‘t swallow well.

These long hours we spent on the bus’s and trains seeing the real Mexico also gave way to hours of story telling and other conversation. I was able to hear the real side of Wallace, a side that I had not known or heard. Wallace told of his younger years, and the difficulty of working his way through college, we discussed his world travels, and his deep very belief in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. His mission years were a pleasurable subject for him to tell, and for me to listen to. Spend ten days hour after hour with someone and you will get to know a lot about a person as us married folks can attest to. What I learned about the real Wallace Heap was all good. Wallace had many of the same struggles that I have had, but he had the deep rooted faith to overcome them, as each of us hope we can.

The struggle to make a living and just survive was immense, without your parents or family’s help, because they too were struggling to just get by, but it has been said the stronger the wind the better timber. Wallace told me his job while at college was working at a frat house where he was literally the paid servant of the rich students, who had the money to pay the poor students to do any thing they were too lazy to do themselves. But it put food on the table, (their leftovers) and he told me that he was dang glad to have what he got.

The stories of Wallace’s life were interesting and educational, but they had one central theme, he felt very blessed to have had the opportunity to have faced, what many today would throw up their hands in despair, and whine to the world they didn’t have a chance.

I know Wallace has recorded many of his growing up experiences and he has done so in a very professional and readable manner. I have copies, as I am sure many family members do, so I won’t even attempt to retell his life story. My sole intent is to honor a great man, with some of my humble, but vivid impressions of the memorable times we spent together, doing what we both loved nearly as dearly as our families, our friends and our God.

Those times consisted of admiring and discovering the varied and magnificent creations our God has placed here for our enjoyment and edification. To all of the world that doesn’t know it, Wallace B. Heap did love this big exciting world, and lived out a lifelong quest, attempting to see as much of it as possible in the years he was allowed to spend on this earth.

Those that know me, know I’m doing my best to follow his quest. I may never become the well read, well traveled, font of knowledge that Tio Wallie was, but I’ll continue to give it my best shot, God and Debbie willing.