Death date: Oct 16, 2007
Born in California, raised in Arkansas, he came to Washington in 1948 with his family. He loved his job as a Truck Driver for Bekins.Hosie enjoyed hunting, fishing and camping, no matter where he was, his heart was still in Arkans Read Obituary
Uncle Hosie, where do I began? The time's I spent with you when I was a young boy just growing up gigging for frogs, ratcoon hunting, fishing and just horseing around to our last time bowling a few years back are all special memorites I will always treasure. Rest In Peace.##imported-begin##Leon Lane##imported-end##
Uncle Hosie, I have loved you since the first time I met you and you welcomed me with no reservations into your life. I tried to make you a priority whenever I came home to visit my family and we shared so many precious moments that I will treasure for the rest of my life. If I was asked to describe you I would say that you were one of the most loving, gentle men I have ever met. Thank you. Rest well among the angels.##imported-begin##Betty Lane##imported-end##
To The Hutchinson Family,
There are many memories I could share about Uncle Hosie. This one is my favorite.
I am 10 years old. It is early dawn on American Lake and the spring mist is still hovering on the water and dancing in the trees along the shore. I’m bundled up and holding my fishing pole carefully so not to tangle with others as we troll the lake for trout. Doc is in the bow holding his pole straight out the side with his long arms, I am sharing the middle seat with Aunt Nora and both of our poles are out the opposing middle sides, mine a little to the stern and closer to the boat cause of my short arms and Uncle Hosie is manning the motor and adjusting the throttle for just the right slow, low hum all the while fishing with his pole straight out the back. We are quiet, not speaking much as we battle the cold and take in the majesty of the moment. The lake is like glass.
I look at the bend in my pole and feel its pull. The pole now has tiny droplets of misty water all along its lower edge and water is dripping from each ever-smaller eyelet from the light fog. Uncle Hosie has helped and trained me to put on the flashers, set the drag just right and to hold the pole at the right angle ‘cause Doc is also trolling on that side and we want to avoid the inevitable line tangling as long as possible. Earlier, I had to bait my own hook with night crawlers though; it’s a guy thing.
The seat is cold, I am cold and there is no other place I would rather be. It is so quiet and peaceful and calmÂ… till BAM! My pole tip hits the water and I yell “FISH ON†at the exact moment my heart beats so wildly I wonder just who will survive this battle! The rule of the boat is that whenever you hear the wondrous words “FISH ON!†you immediately reel in to give the fisherman that has the trout on the line the best chance to land it. At this very instant, Uncle Hosie is doing three things at the same time. He is reeling in his line, adjusting the motor to an almost stop but with just enough power to steer the boat so the line doesnÂ’t get tangled in the prop and he is reaching for the net. IÂ’m reeling in the fish and then zzzzzzzzz out the line goes, the trout is swimming hard another way now. While doing these three things, Uncle Hosie is coaching me to hold the poll up more and not to be too quick in reeling in the fish, just let him run, he will soon tire. Let the drag do its work. Hosie is right, the trout tires and soon we have a beautiful rainbow trout to put on the stringer that will eventually fill with all of our catch and become a fish fry that evening. The commotion over, we all bait up with fresh worms, gently let out our lines when Uncle Hosie has just the right course and speed set and we all wait for it to happen again secretly wanting to be the one to yell “FISH ONÂâ€!
Thank you Uncle Hosie.
Larry Pennington##imported-begin##Larry and Kathryn Pennington##imported-end##
I always enjoyed playing football and baseball with Hosie. I envied James and Truman for having a father that would take time to play with them. We share your grief.##imported-begin##Jim & Jean Parrish##imported-end##
