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]

Memorial Day. And Dad's 92nd Birthday.

Today my Dad would have been 92 years old. He was born in Cleveland on May 26, 1922, to Cora Esther Bowers Coughlin and Cornelius (Connie) Francis Coughlin. Both my grandparents were first generation Americans. In 1922 they lived around East 87th Street, between St. Clair and Superior. My Dad was the third child, after Fran and Jack. Bill was born about a year and a half later. And Bernice followed Bill. My grandparents' marriage seemed a little odd--Connie was a rough and ready Irishman and a great semi-pro baseball player. My grandmother was the daughter of a bridge engineer, Frank Bowers (changed from Bauer) and Mary Voelker. My impression is that they were upper middle class. So Cora married a guy who was in a lower social class. But Connie had charm and smarts. He was funny, affable, a great athlete, with lots of friends.Their marriage lasted about 43 years, until my Grampa's death in 1960.

During World War II, their 4 boys were all in the service, all over seas. My Dad was a signalman in the Navy, and spent most of his 4 years in the South Pacific, on very small ships (including wooden Subchasers!). We honor him today, his birthday, and Memorial Day.

Today I also think about my cousin Tommy Fitzpatrick, who was just 6 months older than me. Tommy was killed in Vietnam in 1969, just 21 years old. His death is an unending ache to his family and friends.

I also think about my Notre Dame/Innsbruck friend, Steve Shields. I studied with Steve in Salzburg and Innsbruck, Austria in 1967-68, and we graduated from Notre Dame together in 1970. Just a couple years later, around age 23 or 24, Steve's helicopter was shot down in Vietnam and he was killed. Rest in Peace, Tommy and Steve.

I also think about some of the unsung heroes of the Civil Rights and Peace Movement on Memorial Day. There is no official holiday for them, but they are also heroes for our country and our world. Names that come quickly to mind are Ernest and Marion Bromley, Maurice McCrackin, and Chuck Matthei. But there are many more, many whose names are totally lost to history.

So to all the heroes, both of wars and of the struggle for peace and justice, we say Thank You!

Tommy Fitzpatrick in Vietnam (center)

Dad and Mom, August 1947, Willoughby

Steve Shields (left)--Salzburg, Austria
[Also, Charlie Bradley, Brian Wilson, me, Mike Gerrity]

Great Grandma Lizzie Coughlin's Home in 1923

My Aunt Kay recently gave me a postcard sent by my Grandfather, Connie Coughlin, to his mother, Lizzie Ierg Coughlin in March of 1923. My Grampa was 31 at the time, almost 32, and he had three children, Fran, Jack, and Bob (my Dad). Later that year my Uncle Bill was born. Grampa sent the postcard from Chicago. I can't imagine what he was doing there. I don't believe he was playing baseball anymore. Was he there for work?

The postcard was sent to Mrs. E. Coughlin, at 893 Ansel Road, Cleveland. That home is still there 90 years later. It is just south of St. Clair and just west of Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard (formerly called Liberty Boulevard) and the beautiful Rockefeller Park that runs from Lake Erie to University Circle. My Grandma Cora Bowers Coughlin and her parents, Frank and Mary Voelker Bowers, lived in this same neighborhood--at the time a solidly middle-class area.

The neighborhood and the house itself can be seen below.



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I drove down Ansel Road yesterday, September 29, 2013, and was astonished at the number of homes boarded up and the number of empty lots where homes have been demolished. This home is about a half mile south of the Gordon Park baseball fields and just a little more than a half mile south of Lake Erie. My Grampa must have played ball at Gordon Park. I myself played there in the mid 1960s.

More Family Photos: the Bowers/Bauer side

My Grandma, Cora Bowers, on her First Communion Day--probably in 1897. She's on the left in the photo above. This was professionally taken in Youngstown, Ohio. Her father. Frank Bowers, was born Frank Bauer in Pittsburgh. Most of his family stayed in Pittsburgh and retained the German spelling of their last name (many Bauer relatives still live there). At some point, Frank moved to Youngstown and changed the spelling of his last name--why I never heard. Frank married Mary Voelker and moved to Cleveland, where he worked as a bridge engineer (he was an important engineer on the Detroit-Superior bridge crossing the Cuyahoga River valley in Cleveland. The bridge has linked the east and west sides of Cleveland for about a 100 years now. My Grandma, whom I loved very much, lived from 1889 to 1980, and is buried in All Souls Cemetery in Chardon, Ohio.

The two Bowers sisters, Cora Bowers Coughlin and Edna Bowers Rosenfelder, at Maryknoll near Ossining, New York, where their brother, Larry Bowers, was a Maryknoll missioner. Brother Larry served earlier in his career in China.

Cora Bowers Coughlin, Brother Larry Bowers MM, and Edna Bowers Rosenfelder. This photo was taken at Uncle Bill and Aunt Kay's house in Willowick, Ohio. Uncle Larry came home every August--when the wild cherries ripened on the trees (that's the association I made as a young kid). I think this photo might have been from the early to mid 1960's.