Charles William Schimpf

May your memories of the wonderful times you shared with your loved one comfort you and your family, today and always.

My earliest memory of Uncle Charles
Go back in time to the Roy Rogers Christmas of 1955. It is early morning the day after Christmas, and my Dad is working shifts. My MARX official Roy Rogers Rodeo Double Bar Ranch playset is spread out across the living room floor. I am 4 years old, thinking this is the best toy in the world, as I lift the gate to let the bull rider out of the rodeo stall. So there I am, lying on the floor in my pajamas with the feet attached, eyeball to the action, when the doorbell rings. It's Uncle Cholie with a gift wrapped package under his arm. He looks real familiara ringer for my Dad, and he is carrying the biggest box that I have ever seen, so what's not to like? I instinctively ask what's inside? Uncle has a look on his face that I once saw when two girls showed up at a birthday party wearing the same dress. Well, it's something like you got there, as he hands my mother a receipt and says you can always take it back. He is still apologizing as he places the box on the floor. I rip open the papershock and awe! All of my preconceptions about attaining toy solider nirvana have been shatteredit's The MARX official Fort Apache playset!!! The one with the Lieutenant Rip Masters, Rusty, Rinny and a company of 60mm, shiny silver/blue cavalrymen, a fort with 4 blockhouses, and an entire Indian village populated with Apaches. Heart racing, endorphins flooding my bloodstream, fireworks going off in my head. Take it back? Take back my baby sister! Over many years, I invested hours and hours taming the west, working out inner struggles with the help of the good men of Fort Apache. Thank you, Uncle Charles, for the best Christmas present a boy could ever receive. And for being such a good father, brother and uncle.