Uncle Ralph

I found out about Uncle Ralph last year sometime. We have his uniform and not much else. He died in 1961 on what I call the Dreyer family farm near Martin. I'm staring at the obituary; I pinned it above my desk. The Elmore Library put it up online; oddly they have not put much else up.
He was in his later 50s, worked as a mechanic and was a veteran. Dad says he drank himself to death. The obituary lists "natural causes". I suppose it would be rude to put anything else down. I wonder about this fellow. He would be my Great Uncle. He never had any kids and all the Dreyer kids (my grandpa and great uncles and aunts) are dead now. Who remembers Ralph? Me and my dad? In a way it's that old line of wanting to be remembered. In this case, I suppose I don't want to forget.
For some reason I picture Ralph in a hunting hat and a leather jacket, I don't know why, seems like a natural picture of the man. He did serve in the War, he was a welder in California, presumably in a construction and repair yard. He was in his late 30s or early 40s when he was drafted, served for a year or so and came home. I even know his unit. What I don't want to do is define a man solely by his service. There had to be more to Ralph then just that year in California. More than a trailer on the Dreyer farm.
I don't know. I may try to find out. I wish I could do more for the old boy. He deserves it.