February 14, 2017

Patrick Glackin

93 Broughton Avenue

Bloomfield, NJ 07003

Patrick,

God but how your father loved that name!

I write to tell you of the profound sense of grief I felt when I heard your father had died.

He was my friend.

We were classmates at Saint Mary’s Grammar School in Bayonne.

We were classmates and team mates at Marist High School.

I have an image, one which is limned into my memory, of your father flying through the night at Harrison, NJ on Friday night, September 30, 1960. We wore gold; they wore blue. He blocked their punt. As a center I vowed never to snap a ball over the punter’s head. I dribbled a few but never sent one over his head.

I add that my mother loved him.

He would call and get me out of some social scrape requiring in house detention. Having succeeded we would set off on a teenage adventure with Staten Island being the destination.

Tempus fugits magna cum celeritate for old men.

My sympathy and prayers go out to you on the loss of your Dad.

He was my friend before he was your Dad.

JPG – RIP

KS