June Bug
Patrick describes a trip to visit cousins when he was almost eleven, and concludes with a list a topics that were other West Virginia stories he wanted to write.
Category: Patrick’s Family
My Mom Died
Patrick’s first wife Donna passed away early Saturday morning on the 14th of October 2023.
Birthday 89
Thinking about Patrick on his 89th birthday.
On Tribes and Family
Here’s a 2014 recording of a conversation about friends and family and the choices we make, Patrick said “Choose the people that are important in your life.” It’s good to hear his voice again.
Meeting Stephanie, the Story of Lois and her Boyfriends, and More
This long recording (almost 20 minutes) from 9 November 2012 is too large to upload to this web site, but here is an imperfect transcription. UPDATE on 17 Nov 2022: I was able to use a different approach to upload the audio, so you can hear his voice once more, telling this story. The recording […]
Born on Borrowed Time
If you have read the earlier posting Our Stories Intertwine Like a Kitten’s Yarn, you know about Patrick and Donna’s trip to Cuba in 1955. In October 2014 during our trip to Prescott, we had a longer conversation about it, recorded in two parts. Here I’ve combined the two transcriptions into one. In this conversation […]
Audio Added to Conversation about Donna
In 2011 Patrick and I discussed how he met my mother. Seven years later I added a rough transcription of that recording to this site, but the audio file itself was too large to share. Now the technology has changed so you too can listen to us talk. Here’s a link to the entry, with […]
The Whispers Between the Shouts
Here’s a conversation with Patrick about learning how to really listen to music. It was recorded in his living room on 19 November 2011, near 11 PM. PM: ….. was a great moment for me ……… a few years back, I went to, to hear Rostropovich conducting. I think it’s called the Leningrad Symphony of […]
Coincidental Dates
Knowing that there is a maximum of 366 days in a year, it’s natural that given enough time there would be overlaps in events, and so there are. For example, my first day as a racetrack volunteer happened to fall on Gretchen’s birthday. On the fifth anniversary of my dad John’s death–a personal low in […]
Thirty Years Ago Today
Three and a half years ago–well, if you’re familiar with this site you know what happened. It’s no secret that I think of my dad Patrick often, and miss him, and–you know, all that stuff. Today however is a bigger milestone. Thirty years ago today my dad John passed away. JPI’m the son of Patrick […]
Patrick Would Laugh
Patrick would be laughing like crazy because I have been cooking so much since February. He always tried to get me to learn to cook, but I like eating in restaurants too much and it felt like too much trouble to do it for just one person, even though that’s what he did. Anyway, I […]
Mem-Mari
Create a montage of those events that most often recur in memory. Mari got a a job teaching elementary art in Centereach. We found a cottage in Lake Ronkokoma to rent. Since she was teaching under the name on her teaching certificate, we lived under that name – last name Irvin. Her sister Nancy and […]
Uncle JP
Of the various awards I’ve earned over the years, the badges of honor that mean the most to me now are the titles “Granddaddy” and “Uncle JP.” As I write this I’m in Florida in that latter role while Abby deals with the sudden and unexpected loss of Rui, my niece’s new dad. I’m here […]
Hard to Say Goodbye
It’s really hard to say goodbye sometimes. Years ago my sister Heather said that it’s sad when we lose a member of the family, but it’s especially sad when we lose “one of the good ones.” Therefore I am deeply saddened to report that we had a death in our family yesterday, one of the […]
Wiessbaden to Istanbul to Izmir
This is another autobiographical story with a familiar theme–Patrick and Mari’s journey to Izmir, Turkey. I’ve made only minor edits. About nine o’clock in the morning, Mari and I stepped down from the train onto the platform in Istanbul. Beside us were the two bulging suitcases I had wrestled from Luxemburg to Paris, from there […]