We are here to honor and remember a man whom we loved — Fred Albinus. We are here to pay tribute to this person, a quiet and gentle man. He was just that. He was not boisterous. He wasn’t loud. He didn’t fill a room when he walked in. He was quiet, he kept his thoughts to himself and he would rather be with his close family than with strangers.
He did not say very much but his actions spoke volumes. He made a life with his wife and family. He worked around the house and worked on projects for his family. He built things for the people he cared about but most importantly he was there for us.
Okay, it’s a full-bore Beatles revival for Phil these days. Sure, it doesn’t take much for me to put on my favorite tracks — Come Together, Rain, Every Little Thing — on my iPod but this is ridiculous.
What to read next? The Guns of August by Barbara Tuchman? I really don’t know enough about WWI. Maybe Seize The Fire, a book about Lord Nelson and the Battle of Trafalgar. Don’t know anything about that period except from the Aubrey-Maturin novels by Patrick O’Brien although I have seen Nelson’s Column in London. Nixon and Mao? Well, I have been on a Nixon kick, so maybe but not quite. Yesterday I took out Coolidge: An American Enigma from the library. Might be too … too … sexy. Not sure.
Okay, The Guns of August it is.
One meme you hear a lot these days but hasn’t been reported much is the notion that in the past people helped each other more. If there was a problem, we didn’t look to government, the thinking goes. Instead, neighbors looked out for one another, community members chipped in and friends solved problems for one another.
It’s a nice thought but like most bromides, it’s probably more myth than fact.
My Dad at an overlook on the Taconic Parkway in 1956. I guess wearing khakis and black shoes is part of my DNA.
After perusing my old web site, I found this 2007 tribute to my wife’s second cousin, a terrific lady from a different time.
In Passing: Marie O’Neill
We lost a neat woman the other day, just a special person. My wife’s second cousin Marie O’Neill passed away at the age of 85. Her health had been failing lately and she passed on earlier this month. We couldn’t attend the funeral service in Connecticut because of the bad weather. We will make time for a memorial service later on, however.
She was a great lady and I loved her laugh and her smile. She never married and I knew that she taught English in New Canaan, a leafy, well to do suburb in Connecticut. One of her students was Rick Moody, the short story writer and novelist who wrote The Ice Storm. At the premiere of the movie, he was asked about his influences. Instead of saying the usual suspects like John Cheever or Updike, he mentioned his eighth grade English teacher and how she made an impact on him.
Here is Marie’s obituary. I knew she was a WAV in WWII but not that she was a Lieutenant Commander or that she had taught in Europe. I did know that she loved to ride around the country to visit family and friends. She hated Republicans with a passion and once wanted to know what the hell a refrigerator magnet of Richard Nixon was doing on my fridge. (It was a gift from a friend — a close-up of Dick at his sweatiest).
I loved how she once brought her Corolla into a Toyota dealership for an oil change and walked into the showroom. After talking to the salesman, she decided it was time to buy a new car. She had more miles to travel.
Here is her obituary. We miss you, Marie.
Marie Helen O’Neill, age 85, passed away Friday, March 9, 2007, at the Villas of St. Therese, in Columbus, Oh. She was born in New Haven, Conn. on July 14, 1921. Marie received her B.A. Degree in English from Albertus Magnus College in 1942, and earned her M.A. Degree in Education from Columbia University in 1955.
She served in the U.S. Navy as a Lt. Commander in the Communications Office of the Eastern Sea Frontier during WWII, which included the mapping of ship movements in the Atlantic during the war. After retiring from active service, she began and enjoyed a long fulfilling career as an elementary school teacher in Europe, and New Canaan, Conn., where she helped to shape the lives of countless children.
Marie’s many travels throughout the world helped to enrich her love of nature, and the protection of the environment, which led to long associations with the National Audubon Society, and other Preservation groups. Her other favorite hobbies included attending museums, musical concerts, and other cultural and social events of all kinds. As an avid reader, she was versed in a variety of subjects, and loved to discuss and debate the current issues across the Political landscape. She was also an active volunteer to causes that helped the less fortunate. Marie will always be remembered for her unique sense of humor, and her adventuresome spirit will be greatly missed by her immediate family, and all who knew her and loved her.
Marie was preceded in death by her parents John and Mary O’Neill of New Haven, Conn., her brother John J. O’Neill, Jr. and her brother-in-law John S. Bird. Marie is survived by her sister, Eileen Bird of Ohio (John); sister-in-law, Jessie O’Neill of Washington, D.C. (John). Marie is also survived by nieces and nephews, Mary Diamond (Bruce), John O’Neill Jr. (Martha), John Bird Jr., David Bird (Jeanette), Barbara Douglas (Brad), Kathy Cox (Michael) and Stephen O’Neill (Karen). She is also survived by great-nieces and nephews, Martha, Jessie and John Diamond, Carleigh, Madeline and John Douglas, Jack and Sam O’Neill, Benjamin O’Neill, Morgan Vickers, David Bird, Michael, Katie, Rachel, Matthew and Sean Cox and Anna Bird. Funeral from SISK BROTHERS FUNERAL HOME, 3105 Whitney Ave., Hamden, Conn., Saturday at 9 a.m. Mass of Christian Burial at 9:30 a.m. in St. Aedan Church, Fountain St., New Haven. Burial will follow in St. Lawrence Cemetery. Visitation will be Saturday from 8:15-9 a.m.
In lieu of flowers, contributions to the National Audubon Society or the Villas at St. Therese, 25 Noe-Bixby Dr., Columbus, Oh. 43213.
Nora goes deep @ Robert Moses State Park
Timmy evades the waves
Matthew @ Robert Moses State Park
I just finished Christpher Buckley’s Losing Mum and Pup, his memoir of his parent’s final days. It’s a wonderful book - not a Mommie Dearest piece of work, just pages filled with a lot of affection. Buckley seems aware that he had an extraordinary life and his complaints about his parents are mild and tempered. Although he tells his mother that he forgives her on her death bed and his father inspired a ton of exasperation, he knows that he was loved and he returned the favor in this book.
It’s odd to read about a son preparing for his father’s death and burial. My father is fighting a serious and scarily efficient brain tumor and although the doctors have not told us to give up hope, they do emphasize the word “aggressive” when we visit. His memory is shot - he can’t remember what he had for breakfast or follow the plot of a 30-minute sitcom. For a man who once had all the answers at his fingertips, watching him try to answer a simple question is a painful reminder of what is being lost.