Saturday, July 20, 2013
Joanne, John, David, Laurie,
There are two distinct parts to this story about your Dad. The first part takes place at Holy Cross, primarily from 9/52 to 6/54. As our sophomore year was ending, your Dad, Ed Moran, Dick Gralton, and I chose to compete for a 4-man room. All the dorm rooms were designed for 2 students but with the boom in higher education after WWII, 3 in a room became standard. The 4-man rooms were slightly larger than those for 3, but the real advantage was that you got to go to the head of the line to choose the dorm and the floor in the dorm you wanted to live in. That was what we did successfully for our junior and senior years.
Two bunk beds, 4 desks, and 4 dressers. We didn't necessarily pal around a lot together, but we did respect and like each other. We made the crowded situation work.
Although the shooting in the Korean War ended by the time of graduation, we did have a military obligation, and headed off in different directions to fulfill that and then on to other things which took us to different parts of the U.S. and quite separate lives.
In our class, however, was a young man named Wil Jenks. That is, he was with us in freshman year and then fell victim to polio in the summer of 1951. One of the priests at H.C. proceeded to write a letter to Wil every day for years thereafter. At best you can say that Wil partially recovered. He was able to sit up in a wheelchair, and with a stick held in his mouth he became the class correspondent, first with a typewriter and then a computer. His brain and his speech were strong and those able to attend the 25th reunion still get goose bumps telling the rest of us about his speech that evening.
Then comes the second chapter. Without checking dates, some years after that speech, Wil died. He was living in northern Illinois. I attended the funeral, and on the drive there and back from Madison, WI was a time of reflection and nostalgia about the years at H.C. Dick Gralton had died by then, but I contacted Ed Moran and your Dad and we started meeting together. I have a sister who lives in New Paltz, NY so on several occasions when I was visiting with her, Ed would drive over from northeastern PA, and Jack would come up.
Eventually, we had several wonderful rendevous with our wives included. On those occasions your Dad was at his story-telling best. From those stories, we especially know how much your Dad loved each of you.
Scoop was a great friend. I treasure those memories.
Joe Corry
