Anna McKeown and the U.S. Cadet Nurse Corps

 

 

Yesterday was Veterans Day, a day in which we honor and thank all those who have served in the U.S. military. My sister, Karen, began the day by circulating the photo above of our mother, Anna Marie McKeown, who served in the United States Nurse Corps from 1944 to 1947. Strangely, that's about all we know about her service. I don't recall her ever talking about it. So I decided to do a little digging.

Some Background

Even before entering World War II in 1941, the U.S. was facing an extreme shortage of skilled nurses.  Various methods to mobilize interest in the nursing profession succeeded to a degree, but many more nurses were still needed. In March of 1943, Senator Frances Payne Bolton of Ohio introduced the Bolton Nurse Training Act, which Congress approved a few months later. It appropriated $160 million in federal funds to 1,125 nursing schools all over the country. And it also created the U.S. Cadet Nurse Corps, a program open to all healthy women between the ages of 17 and 35 who were high school graduates. Any state nursing school could participate in the program, assuming it was accredited in their state and connected with a hospital.

Once accepted into the program, the Cadet received a scholarship that covered tuition and fees and a $30 monthly stipend. Cadets were expected to complete their training in 30 months and provide  nursing services for the duration of the war, either in the military or civilian life. 

To attract candidates, the U.S. government made a promotional video advertising the Cadet Nurse Corps. It was called "Reward Unlimited" and starred Dorothy McGuire, a fairly popular and well-known actress at the time. Click here to see it. It's 11 minutes long, but it's fairly well done and pretty convincing.

Perfect Timing

On November 5, 1943, Anna Marie McKeown turned 17. A few months later, she graduated from West Catholic High School in Philadelphia. Without financial assistance, that would probably have been the end of her formal education. Money was very tight back then. Her father had abandoned the family a few years after she was born. She and her sister, Rita, were living with their Mom in their grandparents house on Baltimore Avenue. The approval of the Bolton Act, though, provided Anna Marie with a fantastic opportunity, one she wisely jumped at. Her age, health and education made her eligible for the Cadet Nurse Corps. By a stroke of good fortune, a nearby institution -- St. Joseph's School of Nursing -- was eligible to offer the program.  She applied to the school on August 30, 1944 and was admitted to the Corps on September 1, 1944. Her membership card is shown below.

The training that my Mom received in the Cadet Nurse Corps program was mandated by the U.S. Public Heath Service. Below is an excerpt of their requirements:

• The school had to maintain an educational staff adequate to provide satisfactory instruction and supervision.
• Its curriculum had to include all those units of instruction necessary to conform with accepted practices in basic nursing education. It had to be arranged so that the required program of combined study and practice would be completed in 24 to 30 months.
• The school had to provide adequate clinical experience in the four basic services — medicine, surgery, pediatrics, and obstetrics — for the number of students which it proposed to enroll.
• The school had to provide well-balanced weekly schedules of organized instruction, experience and study.
• The school had to provide adequate and well-equipped classrooms, laboratories, library, and other necessary facilities for carrying out the educational program, as well as satisfactory living facilities and adequate student health services which had to be continued throughout the period of training.
• In evaluating the adequacy of school facilities to meet the various requirements specified, the standards of the National League of Nursing Education were to be used as a guide.
  

Per her membership card, Mom became a Senior Cadet on March 1, 1947. For the next six months, she was required to work in either a federal or a civilian hospital, and was expected to provide nursing services equivalent to those of a graduate nurse.  I have no idea where Mom spent those 6 months, but it's likely she was stationed at St. Joseph's Hospital as it was affiliated with the School of Nursing. 

On September 1, 1947, Mom successfully navigated the demands of the Cadet Nurse Corps and graduated from St. Joseph's School of Nursing as a Registered Nurse. By then, though, the war was over, so Mom's promise to the government to "provide nursing services for the duration of the war" was null and void. 

On December 31, 1948, the Cadet Nurse Corps program was shut down. By then, over 120,000 nurses had graduated from the program. I don't know if Mom ever worked as a nurse in Philadelphia, but it's unlikely. By the time she graduated, she had met my father, Thomas Mullen. They married on July 3, 1948 and immediately began to raise a family, having the first of nine children on April 17, 1949.  But the nursing degree that Mom earned as a member of the Cadet Nurse Corps would be put to great use later on in life. When my father's health problems prevented him from holding a job, Mom became the sole breadwinner for a family of ten, thanks to a successful career as a registered nurse at St. Francis Hospital in Poughkeepsie. 

A Final Point

This post began with my sister proudly honoring our Mom on Veterans Day for her service in the Cadet Nurse Corps.  However, per this website, those who served in the Cadet Nurse Corps are the only uniformed service members from World War II who are not recognized as veterans. How strange is that?  How can members of a professional service group created specifically by the federal government to aid in the war effort not be considered veterans of that war?

In April of 2021,  Senator Elizabeth Warren sponsored a bill to rectify this injustice. 24 fellow Senators from both sides of the aisle signed on as co-sponsors. You can read the full text of the bill by clicking here. Basically, it simply requests that members of the United States Cadet Nurse Corps be honored as veterans. Note that it's not asking for them to receive financial benefits of any kind, only the dignity of being recognized by history as veterans of World War II. Amazingly, that bill died in committee.

Last year, Senator Elizabeth Warren and others re-introduced the bill.  Though it's essentially the same bill, additional wording provides greater reassurances regarding the benefits not provided to the Cadet Nurses. Click here to read it.  Based on its current status and lack of movement, though, its prospects look bleak. The last action taken by the Senate on May 17, 2023 reads as follows: 

"Read twice and referred to the Committee on Veterans' Affairs." 

 And there it languishes.

Work Weekend at Winnipesaukee

Earlier this spring, a storm of substantial magnitude hit Lake Winnipesaukee in the Moultonborough area where the Goedecke camp is located. Many trees were blown over, including the three shown above, resting comfortably on the garage of the front house. Amazingly, the manner in which they fell and the support provided by the surrounding trees minimized the damage to the garage. Still, everyone knew that a bullet had been dodged and that these trees needed to be removed before their full weight crashed through the roof. 

Before any work could be done on these trees, though, the Goedecke family suffered an unimaginable tragedy. Alan Goedecke, the youngest of Marilynn's three brothers, was diagnosed with Creutzfeldt–Jakob disease, a malady of unknown origin, without a cure, and which rapidly spreads through the victim's brain causing death, usually within a month or two. Amazingly, Alan accepted this devastating news with absolutely no self pity. With the support of the extended Goedecke family and his deep Christian faith, Alan remained upbeat and in great spirits up until the very end on June 15. 

Alan was passionate about many things, and the Goedecke camp at Lake Winnipesaukee was high on that list. He was almost always there whenever Marilynn and I spent time at the camp. He loved being there, and he always had three or four projects going on or in the planning stage. As the size of his projects grew, so did his tool set.

The first thing to appear was a small Yamaha ATV (possibly bought by Pop Schindler, his father-in-law). That, along with an attached cart, came in handy for transporting all kinds of things around the camp. A decade or so ago, he decided the camp needed a small tractor to for various landscaping projects, so he bought a  Yamaha Kubota. At the time, I thought it was a bit extravagant, but it soon became indispensable. It encouraged everyone to think bigger and attempt larger and more complex projects that required  mechanical muscle. The next generation Goedeckes were always using it to locate, dig up and transport large boulders to the lake to improve the breakwaters.

A couple years ago, Alan got involved in an even bigger project: transforming a residential home in Bedford, NH, into a new home for his church, New Hope Christian Fellowship. While working on that, Alan was presented with the opportunity to buy a piece of equipment much more powerful than the Kubota: a John Deere 310SG backhoe:

I don't recall the specifics of the purchase, only that Alan said that he got a "great deal" on it, that it was useful when building the church and that it would pay for itself the first time that it was needed at the camp. Truer words were never spoken. 

The first time that Pete Goedecke looked at the trees that had fallen on the garage he said, "I can take care of this with the John Deere."  I was immediately skeptical. Professional tree companies use specialized forestry equipment with grapple hooks to do things like this. I couldn't for the life of me figure out how a backhoe operating in an area of limited mobility could remove those trees from the garage without doing serious damage to the roof. Over the years, though, I've learned never to underestimate Pete. I told him, "Let me know when you're going to do this. I want to witness this in person!" A couple of months later, the weekend of October 5th was set for the Great 2024 Tree Cleanup.   

Pete is a great idea man. He's also excellent at figuring out how to make things work. Meticulous advance planning, though, isn't his forte, or, if it is, it takes place totally inside his head. The rest of us aren't privy to it, which may be the way he likes to operate. A good example was the first step of the project: moving the backhoe from Bedford to Lake Winnipesaukee. Pete knew a guy who could do this for a reasonable price, but it had to happen on a rainy day when the flatbed would otherwise be idle. Knowing he would have little advance notice, Pete decided to fill the backhoe's 36 gallon tank with diesel fuel ahead of time. Now, most people might have done this by making multiple trips to the gas station with a large, portable, gas container. Not Pete. He decided instead to drive the backhoe to the local gas station. You may be wondering whether this was even legal. Many states impose a variety of restrictions, including:

• Possession of a backhoe certification
• A special Mobile Equipment permit 
  
• The use of escort vehicles
• 
  Driving at certain times and taking specific routes

As a resident of the "Live Free or Die" state, though, Pete probably figured that:

1. There are no restrictions regarding this sort of thing in New Hampshire; or
2. No one in Bedford will bat an eye at seeing a backhoe driving on residential streets.

So, rather than waste time researching the legality or asking for permission, Pete  simply jumped into  the backhoe at 6pm, rumbled to the local gas station and filled up. While paying he couldn't resist saying to the cashier, "Guess you don't get many backhoes filling up here, huh?".  He didn't get an answer. Not even a smile.

During breakfast on Saturday morning -- just before the event began -- I asked Pete about his strategy for the day. He spent the next five minutes talking about how the area under back deck had to be cleared and a bunch of black plastic pallets had  to be set up in order to stack all of the firewood that would be generated during the weekend. No mention was made about how he planned to get those trees off the garage.

Once he got outside, though, his plan began to take shape. Since the backhoe was made for digging and scooping, it had no built-in way to grab a tree and lift it. Pete solved this problem by using a long, heavy-duty polyester strap capable of handling loads up to 2,500 pounds. One end of the strap was tied to the tree trunk while the other was tied to the end of the backhoe's arm, right above the bucket. Rather than describe what happened next, simply watch the video below, taken by my daughter-in-law Rebecca. Turn your sound up high so you can hear the banter between the Goedecke brothers, Pete and Herb, as well as stunned comments from the onlookers:

With that tree removed, the remaining tree was handled in a more conventional manner, The backhoe's front loader simply lifted the tree off the roof dropped it to the side as shown in another video, again courtesy of Rebecca:

You'll probably want to watch the video again. There's a whole lot going, most of which you probably didn't catch:

• Minutes prior to this video being taken, Pete had been berating Herb for sweeping debris from the roof into the backhoe's cab. Herb insisted it was accidental. They jawed back and forth at each other for a bit, but then got back to business. But Pete loves that backhoe and he wasn't quite ready to let it go. As he starts to move the backhoe to the tree, he stops, leans out the window and yells, "I can't believe you did that, Herb!" Herb, a bit stunned, looks over to Andy (who gives a small chuckle) and yells in reply, "Hey! Just ... Stop complaining! It was an accident!". Pure gold.
• Pete then puts the backhoe in gear and starts moving to the tree, shouting, "You better watch for me. I can't see, Herb!".  Not the most reassuring thing for all of us to hear as Pete attempts to toss 2,000 pounds of tree off the roof.
• At the 57 second mark, you'll see a figure appear on the other side of the garage. That's me. Pete gave me a job that was perfectly suited to my skill set. While clearing area around the garage to drop the tree, Pete got his chainsaw stuck in one of the trees. [Aside:  As a Mullen with zero Goedecke blood, I can't tell you how good it was to hear that. I've gotten my chainsaw stuck a few times in my life, but I've always been a bit ashamed to admit it, especially to a Goedecke.] My job was to save Pete's chainsaw from being crushed. When the tree fell off the roof, it would crash into the tree holding Pete's chainsaw, taking it down with it. Pete tied one end of the yellow polyester strap to the handle of his stuck chainsaw.  My job was to pull on the other end of the  strap and yank his chainsaw to safety the moment that it became dislodged. I'm happy to report that I executed the plan flawlessly.
  

With the trees off the roof, the weekend was already a success. But there was still a ton of work to be done. With very little conversation, the assembled group divided into a number of teams, with some people on multiple teams.

The Chainsaw Gang

This group generated all of the work for the rest of us. It consisted of the Goedecke brothers and my son, Andy. Their task for the weekend was nothing short of monumental. In addition to the trees that had been removed from the roof, there were many other monstrous trees that had come down over the last year or two that had been stacked along the side of the road. There were also a number of trees that had been damaged while clearing the roof as well as trees around the back camp's leach field. The goal of the Chainsaw Gang was to prune all of these trees and  saw the trunks and branches into fireplace-sized sections that could be split into firewood.  Over the two-day event, Andy estimated he spent about 14 hours chainsawing.  

The Burn Pile Crew

 

As the trees came down and the branches were pruned off, anything that couldn't be turned into firewood was burned. To handle this volume, three separate burn piles were set up. My daughter, Sara, oversaw most of the burning. With her forestry background and knowledge of safe burning practices, she was the natural choice. Plus, she was the only one who thought to purchase a burning permit!  Rebecca spent a ton of time dragging branches and debris to all three burn piles.

Sara's first burning pile was set up in the circular driveway of the front camp. It handled the branches and dead wood pruned off the trees that came off the garage as well as the debris from the trees around the garage that had to be taken down. It also handled the burnable waste generated by the splitting process.  

The second burn pile was set up about a couple hundred feet up the road close to where a large cache of fallen trees were being cut up.
(More about that burn pile later.) The third and final burn pile was set up on the back camp's leach field as Herb and Andy cut down a bunch of trees in that area. Just about everyone -- including Zach, Keira and Dana Joy -- got involved in dragging branches and other debris to these burn piles. All of them stayed hot over Saturday night and were revived the next morning. 

The Transportation Group

This group consisted of Pete and three third generation Goedeckes (Johnny, Amaya and Bryce). Their responsibility was to deliver the fireplace-sized chunks of wood created by the Chainsaw Gang to the Splitters and Stackers. Pete, of course, used the backhoe, filling its front loader with the biggest of the chunks. Johnny used the Kubota to handle the the medium-sized chunks. Amaya and Bryce used (and sometimes fought over) the Yamaha ATV to transport anything else that could fit in attached cart. Rebecca and everyone on the Chainsaw Gang provided the muscle needed to load the bigger pieces into the various conveyors.   

The Splitters and Stackers

Splitting and stacking required a lot more people than I would have thought. It consisted of me, Nancy, Marilynn and a bunch of third-generation Goedeckes (Johnny, Amaya, Callie and Bryce). In fairness to the group, Marilynn and Nancy were also responsible for making all the meals. And Johnny and Amaya were alternating shifts in the Transportation Group. All I can say is three cheers to Nancy for getting us a top-notch splitter!

A year or so earlier, Nancy purchased the splitter from a friend of hers who no longer needed one. While it took two (and sometimes three) people to wrangle a chunk of wood into place and split it, it would have taken an army of people to split all this wood with axes.  I volunteered to be a splitter since I had used one before, but that splitter was operated horizontally. Someone quickly discovered that Nancy's splitter could -- and indeed should -- be adjusted to operate vertically. Man, did that make a big difference! Chunks of wood that weighed over 100 pounds could now be jockeyed into place instead of having to hoist them onto the splitter.

 

For even small pieces of wood, splitting was most efficient with two people: one person to wrangle a log and hold it in place, and another to raise and lower the splitting wedge. I spent most of my time as a wrangler/holder.  Whenever I needed a break, Johnny was right there to take over. Everyone in Splitters and Stackers took a shift operating the wedge. Over time, it evolved into a game of sorts -- raising the wedge just enough to allow the split wood to be cleared, pausing while a new log was set in place, and then quickly delivering another split the instant the holder was ready.  Split wood was tossed into a pile to be stacked. Everyone on the team took a turn stacking, as did anyone else who happened to stop by. Nancy was the mastermind of the stacking operation, organizing all of the black plastic pallets that Pete had somehow acquired and overseeing the method of stacking. 

The Cooks

Arguably, the Cooks were most critical members of the work crew. In addition to participating in all of the outdoor work, this group made sure that the the entire crew was hydrated and well-fed. Some of the highlights:

• Nancy's oatmeal cake for Saturday's breakfast which kept everyone going throughout the morning.
• All of the hot dogs, hamburgers and ears of corn that you could eat for lunch on Saturday.
  
• A turkey dinner with all of the trimmings on Saturday evening.
•  Fried egg sandwiches made to order by Herb on the Blackstone Grill for Sunday breakfast. 
• Nancy's fantastic turkey soup for lunch on Sunday.
• Marilynn's Sunday dinner of American Chop Suey and pita bread that was enjoyed by everyone, even all the kids!
  
• The three apple pies that Nancy somehow found the time to make (with Marilynn's assistance)
• The trays of water that Marilynn delivered to the workers throughout Saturday and Sunday to keep them going.
  

The Tree Fire 

 

 

It was late Saturday afternoon and a fantastic day of work was drawing to a close. It had been a perfect day. The weather had cooperated, none of the equipment had broken down, no one had gotten hurt, and a massive amount of work had been done.   Then Nancy decided to walk up the road to help with the second burn pile. She noticed something a little odd and said to the group, "Is that smoke coming out of that tree up there?" Heads immediately snapped upwards followed by a collective gasp. The top of a tree next to the burn pit was on fire! I immediately headed to the front camp to notify Sara, the burn pile coordinator. The instant she saw the smoke she was on her cell phone calling 911. The 911 operator, in turn, put her in touch with the Moultonborough Fire Department, who arrived within a few minutes.

When the fire brigade arrived they approached Sara (who was obviously in charge) and the following conversation took place:

 

    Fire guy: "Who started this fire?"

    Sara:       "I did."

    Fire guy: "Do you have a burn permit?"

    Sara:       "I do."

And that was it. They didn't ask for any of the details of the burn permit. They didn't even ask to see the burn pit. Sara's word was good enough. The fire brigade then unrolled their hose from the tanker truck and attempted to douse the fire burning about 50 feet above them. When they stopped (after about 30 seconds), the tree was still smoldering. The fire guy then approached Andy and suggested that he cut down the tree. We're guessing he approached Andy because he saw a guy decked out in color-coordinated, high-visibility orange safety gear and figured he was the head of the Chainsaw Gang. While Andy is damn good with a chainsaw (and probably could have dropped the tree if needed), he realized that the right man for the job was Pete with his experience and larger chainsaw. And Pete didn't disappoint. Despite his chainsaw being dull from a long day's work, Pete took care of the tree in a couple of minutes, dropping it away from the power lines and smoldering burn pile and back towards the area that the Chainsaw Gang had recently cleared. Another of Rebecca's video:

And here's a couple of shots of the fire brigade in action:

 

With that, we said thanks and goodbye to the fire brigade and everyone went back to work. Andy didn't like the look of the downed-but-still-smoking tree and decided to chainsaw the top half that had caught fire. While Rebecca dragged all the branches and dead wood to the leach field burn pile, Keira played with the grubs that were still in the rotted area of the tree. 

 

A final postscript to the tree fire saga: As Marilynn and I were splitting a partially burnt section of that tree, a small, gray mouse popped out of it. Marilynn let out a yell as the mouse ran around her feet and then bolted to freedom.  As Marilynn told everyone later,  "That poor mouse! Imagine, first your house is set on fire; then it crashes down to the ground, is cut into pieces, rolled, loaded, and dropped. Then wham!  It’s gone!"

Wrapping Up

 

While most of the excitement happened on Saturday, we still had a solid day of work ahead of us on Sunday. A good portion of the large downed trees that had bordered the road were cut into sections and split, but some were deemed to be too rotten for firewood were relocated (somehow) by Pete and the backhoe to a less visible portion of the woods. Pete and the backhoe also spent some quality time together landscaping the torn-up area around the garage. Here's what it looked like once he was finished: 

 

The Splitters and Stackers didn't stop until it was time for dinner. There was still a pile of logs to be split, but that was left for a future weekend. While the backhoe and the chainsaws were the MVP tools of the weekend, the splitter had to get a vote or two.  Sure, it said "Hold on a minute!" and shut down a couple of times despite having plenty of gas and oil, but that was almost certainly caused by a couple of gigantic logs that we fed it. After it had a few minutes to rest and recover, it was back up and humming.  Below is the pile of firewood it generated:

A cord of wood is a stack with the dimensions 4'H x 4'D x 8W'. That translates into 128 cubic feet of wood. Our stack of wood was roughly 5.5'H x 7.5'D x 18'W. That translates into 742.5 cubic feet of wood. That means that the team created and stacked damn near 6 cords of firewood over a two-day period. Not too shabby!

While it was a "work weekend", the group still managed to have some fun Bryce and Herb actually got up at 6am on Saturday morning to fish! Although the water was a chilly 63°, Herb and Pete jumped in the lake at the end of each workday to get refreshed and clean up a bit. The weather was absolutely gorgeous late Sunday afternoon, so Keira, Zach and Dana Joy got in their bathing suits and played in the water until dinnertime. Amaya paddleboarded around the lake and gave both Bryce and Zach a ride. Keira, Zach and Bryce fished a bit from the dock. While relaxing on the roof deck on Saturday night and marveling at the gorgeous "moon set", Marilynn, Andy, Zach and I saw a shooting star. It was Zach's first shooting star and he said, "That was great! When is the next one?" 

Although the weekend was truly exhausting, everyone was excited about how much was accomplished. It was a lot of fun working together, so it was a little sad to see it end. Not to worry. Pete has a series of other plans in his head involving the backhoe, the chainsaws, the splitter, and 12 cubic yards of gravel and dirt!

Sheila Mullen Langlois

January 30, 1949 —  May 2, 1982

Exactly 42 years ago today, my cousin, Sheila Mullen, died as a result of injuries sustained in an automobile crash. While I’ve known about this tragic death all these years, it is only today that I feel compelled to write about it. Here’s why.

A few days ago, another cousin, Pete, emailed to ask if I had any pictures of Sheila. This was somewhat of an odd, out of the blue request, so I asked Pete what had motivated it. He responded saying he had recently been talking with a friend and a memory involving Sheila had popped into his head. Here's the gist of it:

In the mid-60's, Sheila's entire family (Uncle Jack, Aunt Kathy and their four girls) traveled to the Philadelphia area to visit the relatives. By all accounts, visits like this were rare. As such, the girls were never very close with any of their cousins. Sheila, the oldest, was remembered as being somewhat shy and quiet. But since Pete and Sheila were about the same age, Pete was "encouraged" by his parents to take Sheila to a dance at the local Catholic Church. When Pete arrived at the dance accompanied by this beautiful young woman, his friends were shocked. They asked Pete why he had been hiding his girlfriend from them. Pete replied, "She's not my girlfriend, she's my cousin from Connecticut, so she's available!".

I didn't press Pete for further details, but that little story was more than I had ever heard about Sheila in my life. Although she was only six years older than me, I don't remember ever meeting her. She was born in Jersey City in 1949 and moved to Connecticut in the mid-50's (about the same time I was born). In 1972, she married Ken Langlois and moved to Michigan in 1978. The fatal car crash occurred four years later. Here is a copy of her obituary from the May 5, 1982 edition of the Hartford Courant:

As expected, the obituary provides only minor insights into Sheila, so I asked Pete if he had any other memories of her. He provided one more small anecdote. 

Our grandmother, Bridget Agnes McHugh Mullen, died in July of 1975. I was 20 years old at the time and attended her funeral. Everyone did, including the Connecticut Mullens. After the final gathering at Holy Cross Cemetery in Yeadon, Pennsylvania, Pete and his wife Marie went back to their car – an AMC Matador – and discovered it wouldn’t start. Sheila and her husband, Ken gave them a jump-start and followed them back to Pete’s parents’ house in Rockledge to troubleshoot the problem. Somehow, I  managed to be at the event where this happened without meeting or talking with Sheila or her three sisters.

At this point, I knew I wanted to write something about Sheila, but I was stuck. The post would be woefully incomplete without a photo of her.  I was now in the same boat as Pete, only worse, since I had no idea what Sheila looked like. I began by searching through Ancestry's genealogical databases. Their yearbook collection is my go-to place for photos of people in their teenage years, but I faced two difficulties: I didn’t know where or when Sheila went to high school. My best guess was that she attended East Catholic High School in Manchester, Connecticut, graduating in either 1967 or 1968. Sadly, Ancestry’s database only had East Catholic yearbooks for 1975, 1980 and 1982. 

Discouraged and ready to give up, I decided to search the entire web to see if any site other than Ancestry had East Catholic yearbooks on file. In football terms, this is known as a Hail Mary pass. Unbelievably, this Hail Mary was caught for a touchdown! I found a site dedicated to the East Catholic High School Class of 1970 that contained East Catholic yearbook photos from 1965 through 1969 as well. And that's where I found Sheila Mullen's 1967 senior year photo, displayed at the top of this post.

That’s about all I’ve got, except for one personal observation. Starting at around the time my parents died in the late 1980’s, I became very disdainful and dismissive of organized religion. For the most part, I'm still that way. I continue to believe in a Supreme Being and an afterlife of some sort, but the ability to communicate with God and those who have gone before us is, to me, a childish fantasy. There are no ghosts. God and our ancestors do not intervene in our lives.

These last few days, though, have put a few tiny chinks in that armor. Why did that story about Sheila suddenly pop into Pete’s head? Why did I feel compelled to spend hours researching a cousin I never knew in order to commemorate her death in a blog post? Why, after hours of fruitless search, did a photo of Sheila fall into my lap, dare I say, miraculously? And why did I carefully re-read Sheila’s obituary, looking for any tidbit of information I might have missed, and discover that today is the 42^nd anniversary of her death?  I can't explain any of it, but it all seems a tad eerie and way too coincidental.

If anyone else has any other memories of Sheila, feel free to add them by clicking on the comment button. If you feel like it, add your name; otherwise your comments will be attributed to Anonymous, which is also fine. 

Rest in peace, cousin Sheila.

   

The Griffin Shinemaster

This morning I "offered" to polish my wife's black work shoes. (Actually, she kind of left them in the middle of the bedroom floor and I took the hint.) All of our shoe-polishing gear is contained in a family heirloom that I somehow inherited in the late 80's after my parents died and the house was sold. As shown above, this heirloom is a small, oak shoe-shining box with a label on it proclaiming it to be a Griffin Shinemaster. I have very few clear memories of my childhood but whenever I use the Shinemaster one memory always springs to mind. Today I decided to write that memory down for posterity.

Back in the early 60's, my father used to work at IBM. That meant that he had to get dressed up in a suit and a tie every day and put on a pair of dress shoes. Starting when I was about 7 years old, my brother Tom and I were given the weekly chore of polishing his two pair of dress shoes in the basement. As I recall, they were both black wingtips, which would make sense since I'm pretty sure my father wore a light grey suit to work every day. One pair might've been brown, but I digress. The point is that Tom and I shared the chore of polishing our father's shoes.

Tom was a year and a half older than me and big and strong for his age. I, on the other hand, was pretty small and weak for my age. As expected, Tom beat me in virtually everything we did together, whether it was wrestling on the floor, riding a bike, playing tag, flipping baseball cards, throwing a ball or playing pool. My father was undoubtedly aware of this. When we had finished shining his shoes he used to inspect them to see who did the better job. He always praised both our efforts but, somehow, always found a way to judge my shining job to be a little bit better.  

I forgot to mention that Tom was also very smart. He soon realized that the game was rigged and hatched a plan. One week, after completing our shining chore, he convinced me to switch shoes with him before we came up from the basement. Rube that I was, I agreed. When my father once again judged the shoes I held to be shined slightly better, Tom let out a cry of victory,. He turned to me and said, "See?? He always picks your shoes!" I don't remember how my father reacted, but I felt a little sorry for him. Even worse, I felt that I had let him down. I don't remember him judging our shoe-polishing efforts ever again.

Postscript:

While I couldn't find anything conclusive on the web, I'm making an educated guess that the Griffin Shinemaster was a product of Griffin Shoe Care, a company founded in 1890 in Brooklyn, NY. Their web page claims that they "went on to revolutionize the shoe shine industry by inventing products such as liquid shine and the shoe shine box." Inventing the shoe shine box is a pretty bold claim, one that you would think their website would go at length to prove, possibly with a copy of the actual patent. Sadly, Griffin Shoe Care offers no proof whatsoever. Even worse, although their website advertises a host of shoe care products and shoe accessories, there's not a shine box to be found.

The Ten Plagues Easter Eggs

Two years ago, Marilynn and I drove to Massachusetts to attend our first-ever Seder with my son, his wife and members of her family. As a (lapsed) Catholic, I figured that the perfect way to bridge the two faiths was to bring our set of Easter eggs based on the Ten Plagues of Egypt.We made them back in the late 90's when all of our kids were either in high school or college. They quickly became a family heirloom, always good for a laugh during the holiday season.

Sadly, that particular family heirloom never got to experience a Seder. On our way to the event, our 2017 Toyota Prius caught fire in West Hartford and, to quote the incident report, "burned to a shell". Within that burned shell were 10 tiny shells as crispy as potato chips. The heirloom was toast. Worse, we never took a picture of this heirloom, something unheard of in these days of smartphones and Facebook.

This year we had once again planned to travel to Massachusetts to attend another Seder. Afterwards, we planned to swing over to New Hampshire to spend Easter with my daughter and her family. But another disaster (named COVID) intervened, forcing all of us stay sequestered for the holidays. But desperate times call for desperate measures. It was time to recreate the Ten Plagues of Egypt Easter Eggs!

Since we all had some time on our hands, we decided to turn this into an event.  The first step was the plague selection process. We quickly determined that the plagues had to be assigned randomly; otherwise we'd all fight over the flagship plague, the "Angel of Death". Each participant's name was written on a Domino Rally tile and all 10 tiles were loaded into another Mullen heirloom: my 1994 Rangers Stanley Cup mug. (They were on well on their way to winning the Cup again this year too!) I then opened a Zoom meeting to allow everyone to bear witness as I randomly drew holy tiles from the Sacred Cup. The resulting Scripture (showing the results of the assignation process) has been preserved and is shown below. If you click on it, you might have a few questions.
The first thing you'll note is the unique numbering sequence. Rather than the usual boring 1-10 format your grandfather would use, this list breaks into freestyle following "5". Next, you'll note that two plagues were assigned to families. With 10 plagues and 8 adults, we decided to give an extra plague to families with kids living with them. (No symbolism intended!).

Then there's the assignment of the flagship 10th plague. Somehow, this plague was assigned to the Angel of Death himself! I'm not sure what happened here but clearly the note taker was under more stress than the group realized. Finally, the list also reflects an issue that has bedeviled biblical scholars for thousands of years: What the hell was that Fourth Plague anyway? Some believe that the original Hebrew should be translated as "swarm of insects". However, per the  English version of the Passover Haggadah, this plague should be translated as a "swarm of wild animals". In an attempt to broker a truce between these two warring factions, let me just point out the obvious. When you categorize an item as "animal, vegetable or mineral", an insect is an animal. Therefore, both translations are accurate.  Q.E.D.

As a bonus, each participant was also tasked to create a "COVID-19 egg". Not all participants participated, though. Some just assumed the role of "idea man" and let their spouse do the actual work. At any rate, we only ended up with six COVID-19 eggs. All the eggs are shown below (click to enlarge). There was talk of having an elaborate scoring system to determine the Ultimate Egg of the contest, but everyone's jaw dropped when they saw the egg at the top of this post. Game over, man. Some of the other plague eggs are superb: the lice, the flies; hell, the Angel of Death works as comic relief and even the River of Blood is surprisingly artistic in an Yves Klein sort of way. But there's no topping that frog in a teacup.  Congratulations, Sara! And congratulations to the entire family for recreating a true Mullen Heirloom!

Shopping in the COVID-19 World

 

At this point, everyone living in the COVID-19 world undoubtedly understands the importance of sequestering, thoroughly washing your hands, covering your mouth when coughing or sneezing, and keeping a "social distance" from other human beings. You should also be shopping online as much as possible and wiping down packages once they arrive. But what exact procedure should you follow when you have to leave your house to pick up urgently needed items such as food, medicine or home supplies?  The procedure below may seem like overkill but think again. When it comes to the coronavirus, being safe and being "pretty safe" may be the difference between life and death. This procedure will only take a few additional minutes of your time.  You'll get used to it.

Goal:

Minimize the chance of catching the coronavirus while shopping

Assumptions:

1. You are clean (you don’t have the coronavirus), your house is clean and your car is clean.
2. You don’t want to disinfect your car, wash your clothes or take a shower when you return home.
3. You’re wearing a pair of pants with 2 deep pockets.
4. You have two keys/cards/fobs to operate your car.

Going out to Shop:

1. Scrupulously plan your shopping trip.  You want to spend as little time as possible in the store.Before leaving, put a credit card and one of your car “keys” into a small reusable, washable cloth bag. 
2. Put on your “outside” shoes (i.e., shoes you never wear inside the house).
3. Put your other car “key”, your wallet and your phone completely in your pockets.
4. Pack a bunch of reusable washable cloth bags to hold your purchases.
5. When you arrive at the store, put on a pair of disposable medical gloves. 
6. Once the gloves are on, don’t touch your face or your clothes.
7. Bring only what you absolutely need into the store: shopping list; the small bag containing your credit card and key; and reusable shopping bags. Your wallet, phone and second "key" are in your pockets.
8. Be sure to keep the small bag and your shopping list in your hand or in the shopping cart at all times.  Do not put either item in your pocket!
9. Shop as you normally would, but maintain a 6’ distance from all other human beings. 
10. Don’t sit, lean against a wall, or allow your clothes (other than shoes) to come into contact with anything.
11. When checking out, maintain a 6’ distance from the cashier (your biggest risk on this trip). Put all of your purchases on the checkout counter and bag your purchases at the other end of the counter using reusable washable bags. Use separate bags for items that can be left in quarantine for 3 days to decontaminate.
12. To pay, use the credit card in the small bag. After paying, put the credit card back in the bag and put that bag in the top of the shopping cart or in a shopping bag where it can be easily reached later.
13. Put your groceries in the cart and walk to your car. Take the “key” out of the small bag, unlock your car and load your groceries into the trunk. At no time let any of the bags come into contact with your clothing.
14. Safely take off your gloves (see the graphic below) and discard in a nearby trash can.  If no trash can is available, drop them into a shopping bag for disposal at home. 
15. Close the trunk without touching the same spot that you used to open it.
16. Using the key in your pocket, get in your car and drive home. (Your hands and car interior should be clean.)

Once You Arrive Home:

1. Put on your “inside” shoes.
2. Take your purchases out of the trunk. Discard gloves if you still have them.  Your hands are now contaminated.
3. Bring all non-essentials to a special quarantined area within your house and don't touch them for at least 3 days.  If no area exists, leave them in your garage.
4. Bring produce, items needed immediately, items needing refrigeration/freezing and the small bag containing your key and credit card to a pre-defined “dirty” counter near your kitchen sink.
5. Wash your hands with soap and water for 20 seconds.
6. Thoroughly rinse all produce with cool/cold water; no soap or disinfectant should be used.
7. Fill a basin in your sink with warm soapy water. Submerge and wash all purchases that can be cleaned in this manner (bottles, cans, items sealed in plastic packaging, etc.)
8. Spray and wipe down all other items (including your credit card and “key”) with soap and water or disinfectant solution. 
9. Place all washed items on a pre-defined “clean” counter to be used only for cleaned items.
10. Put all reusable washable cloth bags into your washing machine.
11. Wash your hands with soap and water for 20 seconds.
12. Thoroughly clean all countertops used in the cleaning process.
13. Since you can’t be sure you won’t need your car within the next 3 days, clean any external areas of your car that you touched while unloading. Cleaning your trunk is optional, but remember that it will be“dirty" for at least the next 3 days!
14. Clean any doorknobs that you touched and any place that was touched while cleaning your purchases.
15. Clean the spray bottle and any other items you used during the cleaning process that weren’t discarded.
16. Put all washcloths and towels that were used in the washing machine.
17. Clean the places that were touched on the washing machine; throw that cloth in the wash too!
18. Wash your hands with soap and water for 20 seconds one more time.
19. Have a drink. I don’t care what time it is. You’ve earned it.