A life-sized, bronze statue of Hansen had been unveiled at the site just a few months earlier. It was a good likeness: his uncle’s trademark straw cowboy hat sat proudly on his head; his long sideburns and goatee; a toothpick wedged between his teeth. Having been sculpted using a pile of pictures provided by Diana, it managed to capture Hansen’s always dignified demeanor.
When passing through town, Sean would often steal a glance at the statue and chuckle at the sight of a random bird perched upon its toothpick. Birds were obsessed with the statue. It was often covered with white, runny excrement. One persistent swallow even tried to build its nest on top of Uncle Zed’s squared chin. It drove Diana nuts, but Sean knew his good-natured, modest uncle would find the same humor in it that he did.
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