New Poem for the 70th Anniversary of D-Day

June 6, 1944 in Willoughby-on-the-Lake

Cora and Connie,

Their four boys overseas, fighting in the terrible war,

First got the news on the radio around noon that Tuesday.

They heard from the boys about once a month, in letters

Passed under a censor’s eyes, often weeks old.

Sometimes Cora wondered as she read the letters

If her boys were still alive or wounded in some hospital

Or prisoners of war. She couldn't stop the terrible scenarios

Unraveling in her mind.

Connie tried to keep up her spirits, joked and laughed a lot,

And cried himself in secret and drank himself unconscious

Some nights at the bar down the corner.

Bob was on a small ship somewhere in the South Pacific;

Bill also somewhere in the Philippines.

But Fran and Jack, the two most vulnerable spirits,

They were somewhere in Europe—

They might be part of this invasion.

Candles remained lit that day, four of them,

(As they did every day of almost four years);

Two of those candles flickered, went out briefly,

Before Cora could relight them.

It was weeks before Connie and Cora learned the truth--

Their boys were alive—and in late ’45 or ’46,

They came home to Willoughby.

Bob had shrapnel in his back, but was otherwise OK;

Bill’s happy spirit seemed intact—

But Fran and Jack were filled with anger and sorrow;

Souls twisted and damaged, they got into fights back home,

And sometimes drank until they blacked out.

They were haunted the next twenty years,

Until their early deaths, by the psychic wounds,

The spiritual wreckage of June 6, 1944 and

The brutal organized violence of the years before and the year after.

Connie and Cora’s boys came home—

But two of them wounded for life.

[Bob Coughlin / June 6, 2014]

Some Older Family Photos

Top photo: Grampa Connie Coughlin (born 1891), Uncle Bill Coughlin (born 1923), with Jeannie and Jackie Coughlin. 1953, Willoughby, Ohio.

Middle photo: Al Fitzpatrick, Margaret Ann Coughlin Bernice Potter, Bob Coughlin, Nelson Potter, Linda Coughlin, Mrs. McHugh, Catherine Fitzpatrick. Circa 1980.

Bottom photo: Mary Finnegan Fitzpatrick, Mrs. McHugh, Bob Coughlin, Mary Zylowski. Circa 1980.

Veterans' Day

On this Veterans' Day I want to remember my Dad, Robert P. Coughlin, and his brothers, Bill, Jack, and Fran, all World War II vets (all survived the war, all now deceased, two of them very damaged in spirit by their service).

Also, my Uncles Dick and Don Fitzpatrick, also World War II vets, also damaged in spirit by the war.

And Tommy Fitzpatrick, my cousin, who died in Vietnam in 1969; my Notre Dame and Innsbruck classmate, Steve Shields, who died in Vietnam in 1972.

And Michelle Zaremba, my niece, who fought in Iraq, and has fought (successfully) some PTSD demons.

"Dear Lord, bring just and lasting peace to the World!"

Uncle Bill's Wake and Funeral

My Uncle Bill's wake was at the Jack Monreal Funeral Home On March 29th. Over 600 people paid their respects, many of whom are relatives. Just to mention a few people I hadn't seen in a while: my cousins Tim Fitzpatrick and Sheila Fitzpatrick; cousin Jerry Coughlin; cousin Sam Galioto; cousin Jill Charske and her husband Bill; Jack O'Donnell; Ellen McHugh--and so many more. An Irish wake is fun in spite of the sadness, in spite of the loss.

The beautiful funeral mass took place on Wednesday, March 30th at St. Mary Magdalene's in Willowick. Father's homily was so beautiful and so personal; it reminded me again (as if I needed reminding) how beautiful our church can be--and how we are best at celebrating life's passages. Following the burial at bitter cold All Souls Cemetery in Chardon, family and friends met again at the LaMalfa catering center in Mentor--and then it was over, the hard part. Luckily my brother Denny and his wife Sher were in town and we had quite a week with them.

I thank god for my Irish Catholic family and for the life of my Uncle Bill. Somehow we have to take on the joyful fun-loving spirit and deep faith that Bill had. We have to take care of Aunt Kay and help our cousins through this time of mourning.

A Few More Photos of Uncle Bill Coughlin and Family

Uncle Bill Coughlin

Pictured above is the last photo I took of my Uncle Bill Coughlin--taken at his daughter Jackie's house late summer of 2010 (Jackie is on his left; Joe lurking behind).

Bill Coughlin is one of the greatest men I have ever met. I love him and Aunt Kay, and all his children, my cousins, the way I love my Mom and Dad, my brothers and my sister.

The world will not see the likes of Bill Coughlin again!

Last Men Standing--World War II Vets

Today is Veterans' Day and my mind turns to my Dad, who spent almost 4 years of his life serving in the Navy during World War II. I also think of my father-in-law, Art Sanders, who also spent that much time in the Navy during the Second World War. Both of them served primarily in the South Pacific, my Dad as a signalman aboard small PC and SC boats (The Sub Chaser was a tiny wooden boat!), and Art working as a machinist, keeping those boats running. Dad has been gone some 13 years now and Art some 14 years.

The only two close relatives still living who were veterans of the Second World War are my Uncle Bill Coughlin, one of the greatest men I've ever known, and my second cousin (and close friend of my Dad), Tom Quinn. Uncle Bill will be 87 years old in three days; Tom Quinn must be around 88.

Many of my uncles served in World War II, including Fran (Connie) Coughlin, Jack Coughlin, Bill Brock, Dick Fitzpatrick, and his twin brother Don Fitzpatrick. Some of these men came back psychologically wounded by that terrible war.

I can't imagine how my Grampa Connie Coughlin and Gramma Cora Coughlin managed with their 4 boys at war over seas. I can't imagine the worry, the anxiety, the endless prayers. All of them came back alive; two of them were psychologically damaged, and took those wounds to their early deaths.

We honor my Dad, my Father-in-law, my uncles, and my cousin Tom Quinn for their service to our country and to world freedom.

Kay and Bill Coughlin Party

A joyous celebration took place yesterday at my cousin Jackie Coughlin's house in Mentor, Ohio. We celebrated Aunt Kay Coughlin's birthday (LXXXIII) and Uncle Bill's restored health.

The top photo shows Jackie Coughlin with her dad, our Uncle Bill (he's 86 and a half!); middle photo shows Bob, Jim, and Kevin Coughlin with Uncle Bill Coughlin; bottom photo shows Mary Ellen Coughlin Zaremba with Aunt Kay Coughlin (Ed Zaremba is hiding behind the flowers).

This was a wonderful, wonderful celebration!

Memorial Day Reflections

We dropped by All Souls Cemetery in Chardon Township, Ohio a couple days ago and brought a small American flag to place on my Dad's grave. Dad was a veteran of the US Navy during the World War II years. During that time he was a signalman aboard small ships, PC boats and SC boats. The Subchasers were wooden boats, called the Navy's "splinter fleet." They were small ships, not super fast, and not heavily armed. Dad spent most of the war in the South Pacific, including Australia, the Philippines, Borneo, and surrounding islands and seas. On the way to the South Pacific he stopped in Rio de Janiero. My brother Kevin has gotten hold of Dad's war records, but I have yet to study them. I doubt that they tell more than a fraction of the story of those years. Dad and his brothers Fran (or "Connie," as he was known to many), Jack, and Bill were all in the war, and all came home in one piece--at least physically (though Dad had shrapnel wounds and the little pieces of metal would periodically emerge throughout his life). My Dad and Bill had the least psychological damage, but Jack and Fran had problems that led to alcohol abuse and other troubles. Fran died at age 46 in 1965, and Jack died at age 49 in 1970.

On my mother's side, the Fitzpatrick side, her twin brothers, Dick and Don, went to war in Europe and North Africa. They too were psychologically damaged and fell prey to alcoholism. I think Fran, Jack, Dick, and Don were trying to self-medicate for PTSD and the psychological baggage of war. Back in 1945 and the years thereafter, there weren't many programs to help soldiers with PTSD, and so many of them suffered in silence. Like Fran and Jack, both Dick and Don died around age 50. Dick and Don were two of the most wonderful people that ever walked the earth.

Our family was deeply wounded again during the Vietnam era when my cousin, Tommy Fitzpatrick, died in combat in 1969. Tommy was only 21 years old, just 2 years out of Euclid High School. Tommy's death broke the hearts of his mother and father, Al and Catherine, and of his brothers and sister, aunts, uncles, and cousins. We still think often of Tommy and honor his great sacrifice.

At All Souls Cemetery we saw hundreds, nay thousands, of American flags placed on the graves of veterans. We noticed that there was no flag at Uncle Fran's grave, so we placed one there. These vets will never be forgotten.

Passing of Eugene Slusser, a Coughlin Cousin

My dad's first cousin, Eugene ("Gene") Slusser died recently. He was the son of Warren and May (nee Coughlin) Slusser. Aunt May (or Mary) was my Grampa Connie Coughlin's sister. She was the daughter of Cornelius Coughlin and Lizzie Ierg, immigrants from Ireland and Germany. Cornelius, my great-grandfather, was the youngest son of Daniel Coghlin and Mary Crowley, both born in West County Cork, Ireland. They moved around 1857 to Scipio, Cayuga County, New York with their children Jeremiah, Bartholemew, Catherine, and Cornelius. Jeremiah and Bartholemew both fought in the Civil War (and were prisoners of war for a while); Catherine married Thomas Fitzpatrick; and Cornelius, my great-grandfather, eventually made his to Cleveland, where, in the 1880's, he married Lizzie Ierg, who was born in Germersheim, Germany, a town along the Rhine River. By the way, my cousin Jack Pendergast is a descendant of Bart Coughlin.

I think Gene Slusser had 6 children, one of whom, Jim I think, was a state champion runner from St. Joseph High School in Cleveland. I just had a nodding acquaintance with Jim in high school, but I was aware at that time that he was a second cousin. There are not many of Gene Slusser's generation left in our family: My Uncle Bill and Aunt Kay Coughlin; and on my mother's side, Lois Cherry and, I think, Pat and Sally Kearns. But most everyone else is gone, alas. Tom Brokaw called this "the Greatest Generation." Who's to argue with that?

Here is the obit I found for Gene Slusser:


Obituaries.
Eugene G. Slusser (December 7, 1919 - April 27, 2009)

EUGENE G. SLUSSER age 89 of Euclid, passed away Monday, April 27, 2009. Husband of the late Doris; loving father of Judith (Robert) Schura, James, Richard (Margie), Robert (Rhonda), Marcia (Scott) Maxwell and Thomas (Ann); grandfather 17; great grandfather of 5; Son of the late Warren and Mary (Coughlin); brother of Patricia and the late Warren and William. WWII Army Veteran. In Lieu of flowers Memorials may be forwarded to the Vitas Innovative Hospice, 600 E. Granger Rd., Suite 100, Brooklyn Heights, OH 44131, Funeral Service Saturday, May 9, at 4pm in the funeral home. Private interment Ohio Western Reserve National Cemetery. Friends may call at the DiDonato Funeral Home, 21900 Euclid Ave, from 2:30pm till time of service Saturday.

How do you pronounce the name "Coughlin"?

Why did you ask me that? That's a tough one!

First of all, people who don't know any Coughlin's and telemarketers almost always pronounce this name incorrectly--and it drives me crazy! But I guess I should cut them some slack because it's just plain complicated and problematic--the pronunciation of the name Coughlin. Even in my own family I hear three different pronunciations: /COCK-lin; COG-lin; and CAWG-lin/. I think in my own lifetime I myself have pronounced this name in these three different ways!

My grandfather, Cornelius F. Coughlin (known as "Connie"), 1889-1960, was unambiguous about the pronunciation of his name. It was /COCK-lin/ period! That's how his father and grandfather, both born in West County Cork, Ireland pronounced it. The West-Cork angle is important and I hope to discuss it later.

In the summer of 1978, Linda and I traveled to Ireland for the first time. In Cork City, capital of what some call "The People's Republic of Cork," we found accommodations at a Bed & Breakfast and my first order of business was to ask the lady of the house how my name is pronounced. She immediately became flustered, hemmed and hawed, and finally said something like /CAWL-lin/. I couldn't believe it and thought she must have misunderstood me. I was later to discover that in Ireland itself there are probably 3 or 4 different (and I'd guess you'd say correct) ways of pronouncing my name. Indeed, in Cork City /CAWL-lin/ is a common pronunciation. You can also hear things like /COG-lin/, /CA-huh-lin/, and /COCK-lin/. The spelling of the name varies greatly too. In Irish-Gaelic, the name is spelled Cochláin. In English, the spelling can be Coghlin, Coghlan, Coughlin, Coughlan, Coholan, and probably a half dozen other ways. We must remember that names began in an oral culture, and these names in an oral Irish-Gaelic culture. Translating Irish sounds to English spellings is not all that easy; there are Irish sounds that don't exist in the English language. There are some fairly consistent transliterations (the Gaelic "ch" usually becomes the English "gh" spelling, for example), but there are inconsistencies galore. One complicating factor is the nature of Irish-Gaelic itself. There is no one homogenized standard; rather, Irish is an assembly of related dialects, and pronunciations can vary significantly from one region to the next. So an Irish "ch" spelling (which often becomes "gh" in English), can vary in pronunciation from a /k/ sound, to a sound like the "ch" in the German word Nacht, to an /h/ sound. And it can almost disappear as a sound. If you know someone with the last name spelled "Dougherty," you might pronounce it in many different ways, and the same holds true in Ireland.

One important thing to remember is that often in Ireland you can tell where someone comes from by the way they pronounce their last name. And the pronunciation /COCK-lin/ is a West Cork pronunciation--an important clue in our genealogical research.

When people with my last name came to America, things changed again (this is not true just for Coughlin's! Think about what happened to the Przybylski's! Some of these Polish immigrants had their name changed to something like "Shibilski," almost totally losing the Polish root and spelling!). These spelling changes can seem like losses, but you could also look at them as simple markers, trail clues--almost like the minute changes in DNA that track evolution.

In America, some people see the name Coughlin and try to pronounce it with our American-English phonics rules. They see the word cough in the name and pronounce the "gh" digraph with an /f/ sound. This drives me crazy, but ironically many American Coughlin's pronounce their name in that manner, including the famous football coach for the New York Giants, Tom Coughlin. This pronunciation puts priority of spelling and current American phonics rules over the longer oral tradition for the pronunciation of the name. Ironically, when I listen to sports announcers say the name of Tom Coughlin, it actually sounds pretty close to the Irish pronunciation, especially when they don't overemphasize the /f/ phoneme. Still, I must admit, I do not like this pronunciation of my name. It feels like a betrayal.

Many other Coughlin's in America pronounce their name /COG-lin/ or /CAWG-lin/. This probably is a compromise pronunciation (or maybe the only pronunciation many people have ever known). It takes some dogged determination to constantly correct people to keep away from the /KAUF-lin/ pronunciation. In America I've never heard the /CAWL-in/ pronunciation, but I occasionally hear the West-Cork /COCK-lin/ pronunciation. I have a feeling that it is hard to persevere in this pronunciation because people simply can't make the connection between a /k/ sound and the "gh" digraph in America. And secondly, I wonder if people worry about using a syllable that sounds like an American curse word. My grandfather and my Dad and my Uncle Bill didn't seem to worry about that--they said /COCK-lin/, and Uncle Bill, at age 85, still does say that. Most cousins seem to say /COG-lin/ or /CAWG-lin/. And that is the pronunciation I have heard when referring to the great American Olympic swimmer Natalie Coughlin. That's also how I've heard sports announcers refer to the great Irish distance runner, Eamonn Coghlan--/COG-lin/. I don't know if Mr. Coghlan pronounces his name that way himself.

One final note. The name Coughlin, which in Irish Gaelic is written Cochláin, apparently comes from the Irish word cochal, which means "hood, sheath, or cowl." I like to think we are descendants from monks, who, for a while at least, abandoned celibacy. One odd thing is that a Cork City pronunciation of Coughlin is /cowl-in/ and the name itself comes from a word meaning "cowl."

So that's more than you wanted to know about the name Coughlin!

Salute to Veterans

Today let's honor our Veterans. I think especially of three friends who died in Vietnam: my cousin Tommy Fitzpatrick of Euclid, Ohio, who died in Vietnam in 1969; Steve Shields, my classmate from Notre Dame and Innsbruck, Austria, who died in Vietnam in 1972; and Buddy Chasser, a classmate at St. William's and St. Joe's and Euclid, Ohio resident, who died in Vietnam in 1967.

And we honor family members who served in the military during war time:

--Denny Coughlin, my brother, Navy man who served aboard ship off Vietnam in the early 1970's;
--Robert P. Coughlin, my Dad, Navy man who served in the South Pacific during World War II (he was a signalman aboard small ships, the wooden SC, and the steel-hulled PC;
--Arthur J. Sanders, my father-in-law, a Navy mechanic who served in the South Pacific in World War II;
--my Uncles Dick and Don Fitzpatrick; Bill, Connie (Fran), and Jack Coughlin; and Bill Brock, who served in World War II.
--And finally, to Michelle Zaremba, my niece, who served just recently in the 2nd Iraq War and won two Purple Hearts. Michelle has just published a book about her service in Iraq called Wheels on Fire. Check www.amazon.com or www.borders.com for the book.

And to all Veterans, we thank you and honor your service!

November: Mine Field of the Heart

"I don't think there's any point in being Irish if you don't know the world is going to break your heart eventually." These words have been attributed to John F. Kennedy. Another possibility is that they were the words of Daniel Patrick Moynihan, after Jack Kennedy was murdered. Whatever the origin, the words are true enough. And it's not just the Irish whose hearts are broken by the world (it's just that maybe we have written about it more poetically, more eloquently). November is a month that will break the heart in my family, break it from joy and from sorrow.

November 10th marks the birthday of my mother, Margaret Ann Fitzpatrick Coughlin--born in Cleveland in 1923. Come December 8th, she will be gone five years, and we her children still mourn her passing.

November 13th is the birthday of my sister, Mary Ellen Coughlin Zaremba. Born on Friday the 13th in 1953--a lucky day indeed for her large family and many friends.

November 14th is the birthday of my mother-in-law, Ruth Hoffman Sanders, born in Cincinnati in 1924. Gone a year-and-a-half now, this force of nature is deeply missed.

And November 14th is also the birthday of my Uncle Bill Coughlin, born the same year as my Mom, 1923. Uncle Bill and Aunt Kay are two of the great people on the face of the earth. Bill was probably my Dad's best friend. He is vital, fun, and a tremendous loving parent and grandparent. Aunt Kay is his partner in crime (for probably the past 60 years!). An amazing woman, full of spunk and energy, the original multi-tasker. Aunt Kay can crochet an afghan, talk on the phone, and organize her family matters all at the same time, blindfolded, with one hand tied behind her back!

Happy Birthday, Mom, Mary Ellen, Ruth, and Bill!