The obituary of a 65-year-old Arizona man known affectionately as Uncle Bunky went viral on social media after his nephew remembered him a...
The obituary of a 65-year-old Arizona man known affectionately as Uncle Bunky went viral on social media after his nephew remembered him as a renegade antihero who was a ‘living, breathing “hang loose” sign, a swaggering hybrid of Zoni desert rat, SoCal hobo, and Telluride ski bum.’
‘Randall Jacobs of Phoenix died at age 65, having lived a life that would have sent a lesser man to his grave decades earlier,’ his nephew, Chris Santa Maria, wrote in an obituary which appeared in the Arizona Republic on May 10.
‘His friends called him RJ, but to his family he was Uncle Bunky, a.k.a. The Bunkster.
‘He told his last joke, which cannot be printed here, on May 4th, 2020.’
It continued, ‘Uncle Bunky burned the candle, and whatever else was handy, at both ends.
An obituary of Randall Jacobs, 65, who was also known as 'Uncle Bunky,' who died on May 4 in Phoenix, went viral after it was posted on social media on Wednesday
The obituary first appeared in the Arizona Republic on May 10. It was written by Jacobs' nephew
The obituary was written by Jacobs' nephew, Chris Santa Maria, a visual artist living in Brooklyn
‘He spoke in a gravelly patois of wisecracks, mangled metaphors and inspired profanity that reflected the Arizona dive bars, Colorado ski slopes, and various dodgy establishments where he spent his days and nights.
‘A prolific purveyor of Bunky-isms such as "Save it, clown!" (or "Zeebo" if he was in a mood), he would mercilessly tease his "goombatz" nephews with nicknames such as "mud flap" and "style master."
‘Just days after his beloved cat Kitters passed away, he too succumbed to "The Great Grawdoo", leaving behind a vapor trail of memories and a piece of sage advice lingering in his loved ones' ears: “Do what Bunky say. Not what Bunky do.”
‘For all his chaotic energy and hysterical charm, he had a gentle soul.
‘A night out with Bunky could result in a court summons or a world-class hangover, but his friends and family would drop whatever they were doing to make a trip out to see him.
‘His impish smile and irreverent sense of humor were enough to quell whatever sensibilities he offended.
‘He didn't mean any harm; that was just Bunky being Bunky.
‘When the end drew near, he left us with a final Bunkyism: “I'm ready for the dirt nap, but you can't leave the party if you can't find the door.”
‘He found the door, but the party will never be the same without him.’
The obituary was uploaded to Twitter on Wednesday, and it quickly went viral.
On Twitter, many expressed admiration for a man they never met. Some even shared similar stories of loved ones who lived as rebels.
‘This guy was hard core - I love it - no pretension or bs like half the crap I read or see on Twitter and Instagram- so sick of posers snapping a pic or posting bs on social media as some sad affirmation of look at how cool I am- this dude was the real deal - no apologies,’ tweeted Kimberlee Ann.
‘My grandpa, no s***, attached a cannon to the back of his car as a young buck,’ tweeted Lauri Connelly.
‘He black powder bombed an outside white tent social with it, then out ran the cops.’
Kristi Smedley tweeted: ‘You know what? I like this.
Santa Maria posted photos on Twitter of him and his Uncle Bunky
Santa Maria revealed that he was in constant contact with his uncle in the weeks before his death
Santa Maria flew out to Arizona to bid farewell to his beloved uncle
Santa Maria tweeted that his uncle passed away on the day that he flew back to his New York home
Uncle Bunky 'was the kind of dude I would drive 8 hours at the drop of a dime to see,' Santa Maria wrote
Santa Maria also posted images of a portrait he painted of his Uncle Bunky
'We had such a tight "don't tell your parents we did this" vibe,' Santa Maria tweeted
Santa Maria was startled at the social media attention his obituary was getting
Santa Maria wrote: ‘He had a helluva good roll, and I’m gonna miss him so f****** much.’
‘It's honest. Not filled with schools no one remembers and irrelevant information about dull employment.
‘This is a picture of a man who seems like a man, not a pretentious glorification. It's humorous and it's an honest reflection of character.’
Another Twitter user tweeted: ‘This is a guy I would have loved to go for a beer with.
‘I’ll bet he had an endless supply of stories to tell .... even if they would be unprintable.’
One Reddit user commenting on the obituary wrote: ‘I don’t even know the Bunkster but I’m tearing up a bit and missing this old bro so much already.
‘Mad mad props to whomever penned this masterful obituary.’
Santa Maria, a visual artist who currently lives in Brooklyn, took to Twitter to remember his uncle.
‘My uncle passed away 10 days ago and I've been an inconsolable mess ever since,’ Santa Maria tweeted on May 15.
‘He was 65 and somehow managed to wring out 9 lives while burning the candle, and whatever else was handy, from every angle.
‘He meant so much to me and I honestly don’t know what I’d’ be without him.’
Santa Maria posted photos of himself and his uncle from years ago.
‘His name was Randall Jacobs (his friends called him RJ) but to me he was my Uncle Bunky, a.k.a. The Bunkster!’ he wrote.
‘We had such a tight “don’t tell your parents we did this” vibe,’ Santa Maria wrote on Twitter.
‘I'd go anywhere, do anything with him and I can still hear his voice through that impish smile and irreverent sense of humor, always warning me: “Just remember, little buddy. Do what Bunky say, not what Bunky do”.’
‘It's honest,' Kristi Smedley wrote of the obituary. 'Not filled with schools no one remembers and irrelevant information about dull employment'
'Dang, he looks 95!' tweeted another Twitter user. 'I guess hard living is bad for your skin'
On Twitter, many expressed admiration for a man they never met. Some even shared similar stories of loved ones who lived as rebels. ‘My grandpa, no s***, attached a cannon to the back of his car as a young buck,’ tweeted Lauri Connelly. ‘He black powder bombed an outside white tent social with it, then out ran the cops.’ Kristi Smedley tweeted: ‘You know what? I like this.
'This guy was hard core - I love it - no pretension or bs like half the crap I read or see on Twitter and Instagram,' tweeted Kimberlee Ann
'This is a guy I would have loved to go for a beer with,' tweeted one Twitter user
Santa Maria continued: ‘The only thing that overpowered his chaotic energy and hysterical charm was the gentleness of his soul.
‘As much I knew that hanging out with him could end with a night in jail or a world-class hangover, he was the kind of dude I would drive 8 hours at the drop of a dime to see.’
Santa Maria posted images of his uncle standing in front of a portrait that he painted of him.
‘When I asked him to pose for a 4x5 transparency to paint his portrait, he was so reserved and cavalier about it,’ Santa Maria tweeted.
‘Like he didn't know why I wanted to capture him in a dignified manner.
‘His friend Scott Hile, who took that incredible photo in my 1st tweet, had the same experience.’
Santa Maria revealed on Twitter that he was in constant contact with his uncle in the weeks leading up to his death on May 5.
‘We talked on the phone nearly every day for the past month, when he finally asked me to fly out and say goodbye,’ Santa Maria said.
‘His beloved cat Kitters (a.k.a. The Little Dude!) had just passed away, and he knew the end was drawing near for himself.’
Santa Maria wrote that he flew out to Arizona to spend time with his uncle in his final days alive.
‘One of the last things he ever said to me, as we drank and smoked in the desert heat: “I’m ready for the dirt nap, little buddy, but you can’t leave the party if you can’t find the door.”
‘I paid my respects, knowing it would be the last time we’d ever hang.
‘The next day, just as my plane was landing back in New York, he found that door, and the party will never be the same without him.
‘He had a helluva good roll, and I’m gonna miss him so f****** much.’
Santa Maria shared more stories about his uncle on Twitter after the wave of responses to his obituary.
‘One time he tried to pick me up from elementary school in his s****y 70's era Buick LeSabre (a.k.a. The Sled) by revving the engine and hollering expletives out the window the kids were so terrified, they asked a teacher to make sure I wasn't getting kidnapped,’ he wrote.
‘On my last day of 4th grade, before my folks got home from work, he played me a cassette of Alice Cooper’s “School's Out” on my boombox and then we shot a potato out of a homemade pvc pipe cannon fueled by Krylon fumes.
‘One time he tried to pick me up from elementary school in his s****y 70's era Buick LeSabre (a.k.a. The Sled) by revving the engine and hollering expletives out the window the kids were so terrified, they asked a teacher to make sure I wasn't getting kidnapped,’ he wrote
'On my last day of 4th grade, before my folks got home from work, he played me a cassette of Alice Cooper’s “School's Out” on my boombox and then we shot a potato out of a homemade pvc pipe cannon fueled by Krylon fumes,' Santa Maria wrote
‘That summer he pulled out a sawed-off shotgun from the trunk of his sled and told me it was "hot" (I had no idea what that meant) and then proceeded to play Metallica's "Ride the Lightning" while we emptied a buckshot’s gunpowder on the ground and lit it on fire it was insane,' he wrote
Santa Maria recalled that it was his uncle who 'hooked' him into The Beatles
Santa Maria also posted photos of him and his uncle, who took him to his first NASCAR race
Santa Maria remembered his uncle as being 'so fearless and graceful on the mountain' while skiing
'After a full day of runs we’d hit O’Bannon’s Pub, where you just left your sticks outside and kept your boots on all night if someone asked how I knew RJ he’d yell “MY DNA IS FILTERING THROUGH THIS CLOWN!" and the bartender would shake her head and pour a round on the house,' he recalled
‘That summer he pulled out a sawed-off shotgun from the trunk of his sled and told me it was "hot" (I had no idea what that meant) and then proceeded to play Metallica's "Ride the Lightning" while we emptied a buckshot’s gunpowder on the ground and lit it on fire it was insane.
‘He took me to my first NASCAR race where we snuck into the Dewalt promo tent and got kicked out because we started shotgunning Busch beers and snagging all the schwag he screamed “I’M SORRY I THOUGHT THIS WAS AMERICA!” as we bailed out lol.’
‘Shifting gears to skiing, he was so fearless and graceful on the mountain, carving out the most beautiful lines (we'd take shots of Hornito's just as the lifts opened) before dropping in he'd say, “hitting that fresh powder is like diving into a warm rack".
‘After a full day of runs we’d hit O’Bannon’s Pub, where you just left your sticks outside and kept your boots on all night if someone asked how I knew RJ he’d yell “MY DNA IS FILTERING THROUGH THIS CLOWN!" and the bartender would shake her head and pour a round on the house.
‘My folks gave me John Lennon’s “Imagine” soundtrack for xmas and I didn’t take it seriously until I found him on my bedroom floor, hands behind his head, ankles crossed, blissfully listening to "In My Life."
‘Dude hooked me into The Beatles then and there.’
Jacobs is survived by his sister, who is Santa Maria's mother, and an older brother.
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