Uncle Ted was my dad's brother. He had learning disabilities. From my earliest memories he was there at family get-togethers. Everyone treated him with the same respect that other grown up aunts and uncles got. That's why I always called him Uncle Ted.
For a while he lived with my Uncle Dave and his family. And then he had a house of his own. He would often come and stay with us for a holiday in the summer time or over Christmas.
He had the same family traits as the rest of my dad's family. The same dark straight hair and dark eyes. The same Tyneside accent. The same wicked sense of humour. The same stubborn intransigence.
He also had his own unique traits. He loved the music of the 50s and 60s. He had a huge collection of cassettes and an encyclopedic knowledge of bands and performers. He loved tea. He hated cats.
I grew up with an older family member with learning disabilities and it shocked me to learn later that people like him are excluded and misunderstood and feared and ghettoised and abused. For me there was nothing abnormal about Uncle Ted. Because he wasn't. He was just my uncle.
Uncle Ted was one of a whole bunch of people and experiences which influenced my lifelong interest into disability studies and learning disabilities in particular. Anyway, I just found out he died this morning. I'll never forget him. In memory of Eddie "Ted" Hunt.
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