Sunday, May 24, 2009

In Memoriam

You often hear people say that there are no real heroes anymore. I never had that problem. In fact, I grew up surrounded by heroes.

In no particular order there was my uncle Bill (and my Godfather), Bill McLaughlin. Uncle Bill was an amateur historian, a traveling salesman, a father of eight and a natural story teller. US Army, Pacific theater, horse soldier in artillery turned infantry. Silver Star on Leyte.

Uncle ‘Red’ - Francis Xavier ‘FX’ O’Meara – a master carpenter with sparkling eyes and an incredible smile, and another natural story teller, father of four. He was a combat engineer in the 3rd Army.

Uncle Robert - Robert O’Meara. My father’s best friend – they met in the 3rd grade at St. Matthew’s where they both became altar boys (and it’s how my dad met my mom). They were best friends for the rest of their lives. Robert taught science in high school, and was able to do seemingly anything, and had a son. A medic, he landed at Normandy, on Omaha Beach.

Uncle Reid - Reid O’Brien, my father’s oldest brother. A mathematician by trade, he became a teacher, and had three daughters and a son. A Navy man, ended up in the Pacific, as a navigator and as a navigation instructor.

Uncle John – John Reilly. John was an engineer, with six children. A large and happy man, I never saw him get angry at a soul. He tried to join the Army, but, as he was working on the F-4U Corsair at the time he was denied, spending the war making airplanes for the Navy and Marines.

Uncle Paul – Paul O’Brien. Also my father’s brother, and an orthopedic surgeon, two sons and two daughters, and without question the kindest human being I have ever met. Until the day he died he relaxed by reading classic Greek poetry in the ancient Greek. US Army Surgeon.

My Father – Robert O’Brien. He was by all accounts a superb surgeon – plastic and reconstructive surgery, and of all of that generation in my family, the only one to remain in the service, serving in the Navy from 1942 to 1967. He was the greatest man I ever met, able to do anything, and do it well.

I could talk for hours about any one of them. Or their wives – my aunts – all wonderful, strong, bright women, but I will save that for another day.

And there are some others that I want to mention. Close friends of my father who we saw at the house, who counseled us all, and who told us all the most amazing stories:

Ted Starzynski – Navy Surgeon, brilliant, from a family of brilliant over-achievers, and perhaps the toughest man I ever met.

Captain Lewis Haynes – a kind, warm, incredibly brave man who would regularly visit our house, and who one day, in a very quiet voice, told me the most terrible, and noble story I have heard – he was ship’s surgeon on the USS Indianapolis. He is one of the bravest men I will ever meet.

Roger O’Neil – Another superb surgeon, another superb human being, with a sense of humor to match.

Captain Ryan – And still another superb surgeon and superb human being. All just wonderfully good men. I had the honor of ensuring that he received full military honors at his funeral.

And then there are the men in the picture, a picture in a book written by my uncle Bill. We would hear stories about each of these men every time we had a holiday and the family got together. It is a non-descript picture – just a bunch of guys at a table, in their early twenties, full of piss and vinegar, all laughing and acting up, posing for a picture: the Dorgan’s Baseball Club of Dorchester MA. Dick Hodgens, Tom Mulkerin, Maurice Driscoll, Harry Holtzman, FX O’Meara (my uncle), Jim Sullivan, Jack Daley, Billy Walsh, John Hassan, Bill McLaughlin (my uncle), Charly Martin and Billie Martin. We would hear their names and hilarious stories were attached to each, as each got himself into and out of all sorts of trouble. Just a bunch of ordinary guys. They all joined up (the picture was taken at a farewell dinner of sorts for all of them). My uncle Bill told me that every man there received at least one Bronze Star for valor several received more than one), that there were three or four with Silver Stars, and Billy Walsh received the Medal Of Honor on Iwo Jima after jumping on a grenade and sacrificing himself for his platoon. Just ordinary guys.

Were they perfect? No. They all raised families, they all had hard times and good times. There were illnesses and troubles with the kids (me and my brothers and sisters and my cousins). There was trouble at work. And they all helped each other, but no one ever asked for help. And they all made things work. They are better men then I am, of that I have no doubt. And they taught me invaluable lessons, and what good that can be found in me is because of them.

May God Bless Them All. And God Bless America.

Requiescat in Pacem

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