Franklin Hunsaker Jr., aka Mr. Hunsaker, aka Uncle Merle, aka Dad, aka Merle was born Sept. 22, 1946. He passed away in the company of his wife of 36 years on the morning of Feb. 11, 2024, at the age of 77. And man, did he pack a LOT into those 77 years… Merle really did it all.
Born in Indianapolis, IN, and raised in Oklahoma City, OK, Merle was a good ol’ Midwestern Boy at heart with dreams to do and see so much more. The eldest of four kids, Merle was a mentor and fierce protector from day one. It shouldn’t be lost on anyone that he outlived all of his younger siblings, passing on just over a month after his sister Pam passed away.
Making sure there was always someone on earth to have their back up until the end.
His earliest years were spent playing with cousins and siblings in the Broad Ripple neighborhood of Indianapolis. By the time he was in middle school, his family moved to Oklahoma City where his dad took a job as a machinist for an aircraft company.
In his younger days, Merle had a clear *spark* for the sciences. “Merle was with me at the old Halliburton Co. plant where my dad worked when we exploded a rocket on the pad, “shared an old classmate. “And sometime later, had a rocket rip itself free and head for the Newcastle Road spewing fire out the back all the way.” “They were the Rocket Boys of OKC!,” recalled another classmate, Frances Louderback.
After high school, Merle started some college classes but seemed to put most of his energy into racing his MGA Roadster with friend Eddie Abbott. “Merle was my best friend in 1965 as we struggled in college...Raced many times in gymkhanas with our crappy sports cars that were grossly undermanned for the competition. We never double-dated, because neither of us could find a willing girl.”
With his studies, hopes of young love, and a professional racing career seemingly out of reach, Merle decided to serve his country. As the story goes, in the Summer of 1966 at the age of 19, his sixth sense tingled and told him he’d better enlist before he was drafted and Uncle Sam told him which branch he was destined for. He chose to serve in the United States Coast Guard because “if [he] was going to play a role in that war, [he] was going to be in the business of saving lives, not taking them.” His draft letter arrived in the mail the day after he enlisted.
The son of two WWII Navy veterans, Merle proudly served his country in the Vietnam War for four years aboard the USCGC Owasco. He especially loved playing the role of photographer and birthday cake baker among his other duties. His cutter spent a full year traveling to and from Vietnam to deliver supplies. He received a National Defense Service Medal, a Vietnam Service Medal with Two Bronze Stars, and a Good Conduct Medal.
After Vietnam, Merle briefly settled down in New York City, working as a chef at the American Museum of Natural History. That job must have reignited his love for the sciences because he moved back to Oklahoma where he (briefly) studied at Oklahoma State University. Only “briefly because, in his own words, he “partied too hard and flunked out.”
Merle fell in with a group of “long-haired hippies” and veterans who wanted to raise awareness about what was happening overseas by way of rock and roll. They put together a couple of outdoor festivals in Stillwater and Merle even opened his own bar as a safe space for his fellow hippies: Uncle Merle’s. A gin rickey was a popular drink at the bar, but Uncle Merle’s specialty was what he called a Suzie Q (vodka and grenadine). With a friend’s custom-built sound system and a disregard for rules, they’d often play loud music and spill out of the bar into the street for impromptu block parties late into the night.
“One of the luckiest things,” according to friend Bob Morris, “Was at the end of the summer of 1972, the landlord raised the rent and Merle had to sell the bar—which was probably the best thing that could have happened to all of us.”
After closing shop at the bar, Merle met and married Laura “Tooter” Potter and became a father to then-3-year-old Jaime. The three moved to Oklahoma City where Merle pursued his retail salesman dreams. The folks at Sears didn’t like his ponytail as much as he did, so he’d wear a wig to work each day to be more “presentable.” And, while talking to people all day, every day came naturally to him, the retail world just wasn’t for him.
Merle, Tooter, and Jaime packed up and moved out to a 20-acre lot in Pink, Oklahoma. He built the road and the little no-power, noplumbing house by hand and dubbed the property “Walkaland.” From Walkaland, Merle started commuting 45 minutes to Norman to attend the greatest college in the nation: The University of Oklahoma. He’d often hitchhike up and down Highway 9 to make it to class and one time even helped his driver with a flat tire (queue him singing “I’ll fix your flat tire, Merle,” as he got to this part of the story).
Merle studied Anthropology and in 1979 he graduated with a BA from OU’s College of Arts and Sciences. He even participated in archaeological excavations in Mexico. Later in 1979, he started his 32-year career at Tecumseh High School. To say the least, it was a successful tenure. Going on to win teacher of the year several times (even back-toback- to-back), teaching multiple generations, and changing countless lives: “Only teacher that was ever able to set me straight. No matter what chaos was going on in my life he could always tell when something was wrong and sit me down to have a dad talk; with REAL talk. No sugar coating it.”
“He was the one that set me on my career path in science! He was one of the cool ones… he taught with such passion.”
“He saw the depression settle over my person and checked in with me consistently to make sure I was ok.”
“I wouldn’t be the teacher I am without your influence. I wouldn’t be the same human without it either. “ “I’m grateful for whatever forces sent him my way when I needed him.”
“You were a giant among men.”
“I would not have graduated or be who I am without him pushing me.”
“You are still my favorite teacher...”
“Mr. Hunsaker was my favorite teacher.”
“My favorite teacher.”
“He was my favorite teacher.”
“He was literally my all-time favorite.” His teaching style was as unconventional as it came. And the students responded to it. When the school district implemented a “professional” dress policy, he famously interpreted it in a way only he could—sticking it to The Man because old habits die hard. If he has to wear a button-down shirt and tie every day, sure man, he could do that. And so began his collection of mismatched Goodwill shirts and ties. His collection grew and he was eventually able to wear a different tie every day of the school year (he even had a different holiday tie for each day of December). Paired with his ever-present pocket protector full of pens and highlighters, he was hard to miss. He listened to and inspired generations of students. Helping them believe in themselves when no one else did— even if it took throwing a foam brick at a student now and again.
Going back to his time in Walkaland... When he wasn’t teaching, he was hosting more parties for those “long-haired hippies.” He hosted 20 (yes, TWENTY!) annual “Anarchist Picnics” on the Fourth of July. These “picnics” were rumored to last for days. By 1985, Merle and Tooter went their separate ways, but he always remained a staple in Jaime’s life (and eventually her kids’ lives).
In the summer of 1986, while at a mutual friend’s party, Merle caught the eye of Amy Giant. Amy was not only a fellow “longhaired hippie,” but she too was a Hoosier turned Oklahoman. Amy had heard about these big Anarchist Picnics and, with the Fourth just around the corner, she made her move—securing herself an invitation to be Merle’s date to the party.
Things clearly went well because, as she recalled, “I thought, I’m going to marry him. He’s a hard worker, and he loves kids as much as I do.”
And Merle and Amy did get married in November 1987. He adopted her three kids: Maria, Katrina, and Justin, and then they went on to have two more: Kenneth and Emma. The large crew lived in Norman and had a revolving door of honorary Hunsaker kids and foster children.
Anyone who needed a place to stay was welcomed at Merle and Amy’s. They never had much, but Merle never said no to anyone in need.
Merle also never said no to voluntary labor... A famous life lesson for his kids came from the cunning way he’d tell door-to-door evangelists, “Well gee, I’d love to talk to you guys, but I have all this work I need to be doing.” Hours of yard work later and still not converted, he got to check off his honey-do and the missionaries got to feel like they did some good.
Even once he’d moved to Norman, Merle still worked in Tecumseh. Commuting 45 minutes each way back and forth. And by this time, Merle was not only teaching at Tecumseh High but also became the driver for Bus #1. While helping the school district was nice, and he wasn’t complaining about the additional income, rumor has it he took the job to get out of before and after school teacher meetings (once again, sticking it to The Man).
In addition to Coastie, Chef, Bar Owner, Sears Salesman, Teacher, and Bus Driver, Merle worked a slew of summer jobs, weekend jobs, and side hustles including:
• Carpentry at OU
• Driving fire trucks from a factory up North to their new homes all over the country
• Laundromat attendant
• Liquor store sales
• Developing forensics curriculum with OU’s Physics Department
Anything to make a buck, lend a hand, have plenty of people to talk to, and keep himself busy. With many, many good years of a life lived hard and countless lives impacted, Merle eventually retired in 2011. He spent time traveling back and forth between Oklahoma, Florida, South Carolina, and Indiana, with Amy. Telling stories of the glory days to his eleven grandkids and eight greatgrandkids. Retelling those stories to his six kids and their partners. Inviting himself over to visit with neighbors and participating in activities with veterans groups.
After years-long battles with multiple illnesses including diabetes from Agent Orange, cancer, and dementia, Merle finally found peace on Feb. 11, 2024.
Merle’s story isn’t one that seems possible. How could one person possibly do so much? He loved life, he loved hard, he lived hard, and he saw no limitations. While his loss is painful to many, we can all rest easy knowing that through the countless lives he touched, this world will always have a piece of Merle Franklin Hunsaker Jr., Mr. Hunsaker, Uncle Merle, Dad, Merle.
What a long, strange trip it’s been.
Please save the date for a celebration of life June 30 in Norman. Details will be shared on Merle’s Facebook.
