James Eugene Uglum

Mr. James Uglum, born May 29th, 1933 the son of Robert and Alyce Uglum in Havre, Montana. He grew up in Montana and North Dakota attending University of Montana and graduating in 1955. Jim was an avid and active Sigma Nu and kept up with his fraternity brothers the rest of his life. A short stint in the military fueled by dreams of being a pilot were cut short with a medical discharge. A life long Episcopalian, having represented the Episcopalian Youth Conference at the national level, attending St. Margaret’s for 30 years his faith has always been a focal point in his life. Jim's vocational love was radio - spinning records through college and all over the country to make ends meet and provide for his loving wife Marlene, and their four children, Bob, Kirsten, James Jr., and Eric. Every turn in life was always an adventure for Jim and his family. He is survived by Marlene, his wife of 62 years, their children, and 9 grandchildren. Jim's radio career enveloped music, sales, and 20 years of educating others. Jim found joy in helping others find their way in life. He was a great mentor to his family and others. His career eventually brought the family to Atlanta, then Carrollton for retirement. He was charter member of Golden K Kiwanis in Carrollton and its first president. Jim Sr. and Bob in their joint efforts created the Maple St. Mansion and served patrons in West Georgia for over 25 years. Jim was very focused on being a part of the community, giving his time, experience in media, and political clout whenever needed. Funeral service will be Monday, March 27 at 3 p.m. at St. Margaret’s Episcopal Church with Reverend Bruce Laird officiating. Pallbearers will be grandsons Adam, Alec, Jordan, Briar, Tripp, John Dean, and Parker. Honorary Pallbearers are the Kiwanis Golden K. Interment will be in Carroll Memory Gardens. Almon Funeral Home of Carrollton has charge of arrangements. Eulogy delivered by his grandson. For Pop The world is full of amazing men. Few hold a candle to the life and impact of Jim Uglum. I picture him flying a B-52, arguably his favorite World War Aircraft, no doubt he is gleefully teaching St. Peter how the controls work and is sharing the history of World War aviation to any angel that will listen. I know his dad, Bob, couldn’t have been more proud. Grandad always wanted to be a pilot. He went into the Air-force out of college with every intent to fly planes like his dad. Life had something else in store for him in the radio world. Pop still had the heart of a pilot. Jim loved planes, cars, adventure, music, people, and making stories. More than anyone I’ve ever known, Grandad lived a life like a movie star. Or at least he knew how to tell it that way. From, camping in the wilderness in a camper pulled by a Buick, along with a wife, 4 kids, dog, and cat, all during a move to the next radio station who wanted the famous voice, flying planes, rubbing elbows with Astronauts, travelling with a brass band, professional athletes, and celebrities from every corner of the country, Granddad knew how to tell a story and make even lunch an adventure. Grandad filled a role in every life he touched. Whether it was for 15 minutes or 50 years. He was a mentor, Parent, Grandparent, friend, teacher, Disk Jockey, Announcer, Salesman, historian, and politician. To twin boys to a single mother, he was the father we needed and laid a foundation of work ethic and virtue that would make Alec and I the men we are today. He had the charisma, presence, and humility that outweighed the cumulative in any room. He had an intelligence and tact that were unmatched. His advice and counsel will be sorely missed. In a way we all feel and understand that Jim is still here. He was so tremendously involved and impactful in our lives that each of us has a little Jim in them. We’ve all got a booming radio announcer eloquently narrating our lives. We’ve all got a crazy fraternity boy who had just enough to drink, that we think carrying a 400lb tractor tire up the steep mountain near the University is a good idea. Jim wasn’t what I would call an avid hunter, but he never turned down an opportunity to hunt boar in Hawaii, or small game wherever he lived. I honestly don’t believe Jim ever cared about the hunt, but the relationships built and the memories made. If life is anything, it is memories. Memories teach us lessons, and Jim never hesitated to share a story with anyone who would sit still long enough. He never wore any ear out, never made anyone uncomfortable. Story telling was never some grandiose effort to make himself something he wasn’t. He was that good at telling stories and you wanted to hear it. I ran across an email Saturday while going through some of his things. It was between Jim and an old Radio colleague Curt Zehner, in 2010, now Senior Minister of a Church in Conyers and still active in radio. Curt and Grandad met at Columbia School of broadcasting, funny enough my Mom, Kirsten, worked there at the time. In the email Curt thanks Jim for his contributions to his life, in his 20s and helping to steer him out of trouble and to a successful career. Curt reminisced his wild days as a passing fancy and thankful to be through them and in a position now to help others. He spoke fondly of their days working together at the Columbia School of Broadcasting, the honor it was working for him and reciting the impact Jim had on his life, helping him through his own hurdles toward maturity. The particular event, Curt was feeling a bit burned out or under-appreciated and made the mistake of ranting to my Mom, the School owner’s daughter. Of course Jim caught wind of it and for a normal man, Curt probably would have gotten an earful, or fired. He even writes in the email, you know there would have been no tomorrow for someone who did that to a daughter of mine. Yet, Jim handled it the way Jim handled much of every day of his life, with compassion and mature understanding. That’s what makes Jim special. That quality left such an impression and to this day it’s one of the most valuable lessons he’s ever learned. This is just one small story but I felt like I came across that printed email for a reason, to share it with all of you. There are a thousand Big Jim stories, all of which are bigger than life, right off the silver screen. If Jim taught us anything, it’s to live life like you are a hot shot actor on stage. I remember that often, because I’ll never forget what I think is the most memorable thing he ever told me as a lazy teenager who needed some direction. He said to me once, “Adam, you know there’s never going to be another May 11th, 2003. This is the only one you get, so you need to do everything you can with it and live like it’s the only one you have.” As we all leave here today I hope you take with you what Pops left with me. Life. Live every day with no regrets, make rash decisions, make calculated decisions, do it all. We aren’t on this earth to rest and take it easy. Get up, go out, race your car, kiss the girl, drive across Texas, Montana, Wyoming, Kansas, and Virginia. Find fun hobbies, Roll farm equipment tires down the hill, go to Hawaii, Canada, Central Park, hunt gophers with your crazy relatives out of the back of a 77’ Suburban. If we do anything in this life, be more like him, and Jim painted the world.