Another Poem for Margaret McDonough, Rest in Peace

 

(above, Margaret on the Spring Street Steps, Boal Street, Over-the-Rhine)

WAITING

Waiting.

Being present.

Is it called "being present" if you're not in the same room?

Presenté!  Our departed loved ones and heroines ~ 

Presenté!

To live in the now is to realize it's now.

My memories are now.

Fifty-six years compressed into now.

Roommates our Freshman Year

Maid of Honor

Stories from the Reservation

Godmother extraordinaire

Surviving the years of single motherhood because you visited after work.

Climbing Young Street stairs to watch Mr. Rogers & Sesame Street

With Daisy on the roof.

Trips in the Red Bug, three kids and a bloodhound in the back seat,

Old Man's Cave, Natural Bridge,

And the Saginaw Bookstore with a tomato on the shelf.

The Cottage, The Greenhouse, Ireland - now, now, now.

You told me once when I was grumpy,

"It doesn't matter if they delete you from history

Or mythologize you;  I was there.

I remember."  A simple echo of God's words,

"I know you. You are mine."

The IV pump is ticking

Voices down the hallway

Ashes on your forehead

Repositioning, med passes, a parade of medical teams 

Now

Quiet Breathing

Now

Healing

Now

God in and around us

Now.  Presenté!

[kp. for Margaret McDonough.  3/3/2022]

(above, Margaret in Ireland, circa 2000)

A Few Words on the Life of Margaret Mary McDonough

The poem above was written by my friend kp, who was one of Margaret McDonough's closest friends. There has been no official obituary for Margaret, but I'm going to try to piece together what I know about her life.

Margaret was from Bay City, Michigan, born around the time I was born, May 2nd, 1948. Margaret died in Cincinnati on March 21, 2022, a week ago. After a 6 week stay in the hospital, she was discharged to the skilled nursing unit at her retirement community.  Four days later she died peacefully.  Her brother Jack was with her when she died.  During the 6 weeks of hospitalization she had a team of friends, Debbie Boerschig, Sue Brungs, Charlene Riva, Liv Henson, and kp, advocating and caring for her as much as was permitted. Margaret was deeply loved, which was made perfectly clear during her final illness.

For a while I lived near Margaret, maybe a quarter mile away (for a time I was on Orchard Street and then on Lang Street in Over-the-Rhine, Cincinnati). Margaret lived on Boal Street near the Young Street steps, just up the street from my friends Henry Scott and Dan Bromley (they were at 324 Boal). She had many friends on Orchard Street and knew the folks in the Mansfield House Commune. We had many friends in common. I'm sure we were in the same place at the same time, but I don't remember meeting her.

Margaret attended the College of Mount Saint Joseph, like kp and Mary Jane Atkinson. Her resumé is a little crazy, like so many of my friends. She started her teaching career on the Lakota Sioux Reservation in Saint Francis, South Dakota, and later returning to Cincinnati she taught 4th and 5th grade at St. Henry’s in Northern Kentucky. After several years of teaching, she decided to change her career path.  She took classes in horticulture and worked for 17 years at Frank's Nurseries, becoming their first female store manager. In 1990, Margaret joined the UK Royal Horticulture Society and specialized in growing flowering sweetpeas, resurrecting a flower that had been popular in Cincinnati before World War II. From then until retirement, Margaret was a familiar face at Court St. and Findlay Markets, eventually selling rare plants and other flowers as well as her sweetpeas.  For a decade or more Margaret volunteered as a reading instructor for adult learners.

For a while Margaret lived near the Fernald Nuclear Plant--a place with a disguised name (Fernald Feed Materials Production Center) and a secret source of vast and dangerous radioactive pollution (it released millions of pounds of radioactive uranium dust into the air). Could this have been a contributing factor in Margaret's death?

Toward the end of her life, Margaret moved to a cottage connected to Twin Towers Senior Living Community in Cincinnati. She was greatly loved by her neighbors in this community.

In a Facebook post, an old friend of Margaret mentioned some of the things she fought for throughout her life: Native Americans, Women in Business, Hispanic Immigrants, Children, and Community Gardens. And in the end, a heroic fight for her own life.

Margaret is being laid to rest at the same time as her 98-year-old mother, Lorraine McDonough, at the St. Patrick's Catholic Cemetery in Bay City, Michigan. Mrs. McDonough died a couple weeks before Margaret's passing.

The Irish would say: "Margaret's likes will not be seen again." And "Ar dheis Dé go raibh a hanam dílis," May her sweet soul be at God's right hand.

Keep Margaret, Lord, like the apple of your eye. Shelter her under the shadow of your wings. Let Perpetual Light shine upon Margaret Mary McDonough. 

Bob Coughlin

Blessings for Thanksgiving!

Even in this time of darkness in this country and the world, when crucifixion is as real as it was 2000 years ago, let us find time and room to offer thanks.

My Mother was my first teacher in how to give thanks. She could be described as a simple woman, one who accomplished little that the world would ever note. But she was a fine mother, wife, and grandmother. She, with my Dad, raised her brood of five children, gave us love, taught us to love, and in the end, taught us to be grateful. She touched the lives of her immediate family and her extended family. She helped her alcoholic twin brothers, Dick and Don, fed them, gave them shelter in our little house; offered hospitality to her alcoholic brother-in-law Jack, gave him food and shelter in our little house; gave friendship, companionship to our mentally ill neighbor, MZ; helped raise my brother's three boys; loved and nurtured her 17 grandchildren.

When she passed away, so peacefully back in 2003, with her entire family around her, her last words and gestures were full of gratitude. I hope I can continue to learn gratitude from her. I think it's one of the toughest virtues.

Without trying to make a comprehensive list, I want to express my deepest gratitude for my parents, my family (including cousins, aunts, uncles, and shirt-tail cousins), my sister Mary Ellen, my brothers, Denny, Kevin, and Jim, my wife Linda, my children, Julia, Carolan, and Emily (and their spouses, Eddy and Brian, and Carolan's friend Jeremy), and my two grandboys, Colin and Robby.

I want to express gratitude for my friends, especially my newer friends at the Karpos ministry for the hungry and homeless at St. Mary's Church in Painesville. They are so much fun and so dedicated. Thanks for my college friends, especially those from Notre Dame and the Innsbruck Program; for my dear friends at Lakeland; for my friends in various organizations who battle injustice so fearlessly; for my Cincinnati friends, again, so fearless. They have all taught me faith, hope, and love.

You don't have to be a priest to bless people, so . . .

Dear friends, I bless you, as you have blessed me. And I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, the deepest well of my being!

Go raibh mile maith agaibh! [Irish]

Herzlichen Dank! [German]

Grazie mille! [Italian]

Merci beaucoup! [French]

Thank You!

View of Cincinnati from atop Mt. Echo Park: Cincinnati Where the River Wi-i-inds

Almost forty ears ago I was hitchhiking in Tennessee near the Smoky Mountains. A young couple picked me up, asked me where I lived. When I told them Cincinnati, they both broke out into song:

One more hour and I'll be home,
Close my eyes and rest my bones.
Can't be more than a mile or so
From Cincinnati, O-hi-o, Cincinnati, O-hi-o.

Cincinnati where the river wi-i-inds,
Cross the Mason and the Dixon line.
There's a place for me, I know,
In Cincinnati, O-hi-o, Cincinnati, O-hi-o.

This very song I sang with my Peacemaker friends at the Mansfield House Commune--me on guitar hitting the simple three chords. When it came to the "wi-i-inds" part, we laid it on thick, pulling a one-syllable word into an entire line. It was great fun. Well last Sunday, at the memorial picnic for Dorothy Glanzer, I saw many of these old friends. The picnic was at Mt. Echo Park, hundreds of feet above the city, with a perfect view of downtown and northern Kentucky, and that Ohio River wi-i-inding around. Here's a photo I took:

Cincinnati, from Mt. Echo Park

Peacemaker Gathering at Memorial Picnic for Dorothy Glanzer

Yesterday at Mt. Echo Park in Cincinnati there was a gathering of old Peacemakers and friends of Dorothy Glanzer and Greg Haas. Dorothy died recently after suffering for years with MS. The gathering was a wonderful reunion of old friends, many of whom met back in the late 1960s or early 1970s in the Vietam-era peace movement. The peace movement is gaining steam again, in response to perpetual war.

Greg Haas

Alice Ann, Peggy, Mary Alice, Anne, Clare, me

Mansfield House photo from 1971 or 1972. Looks like a poster for the musical "Hair"! Ken Przybylski at far left, with Chris Cotter to his right. Also pictured, Carolyn Bromley, Greg Haas, Peggy Scherer, Anne Weinkam, Jack Shereda, John Luginbill, Joan Levy, Bonnie Tompkins, Denny Ryan, Mary Jane Atkinson, and two neighborhood boys

Me with Mary Alice Shepherd Milnes

Me with Peggy Scherer

With Jim Tarbell

Manuel, Alice Ann, Peggy, Mary Alice, Anne, Clare, me

A strange thing that often happens at wakes and memorial services is the joy that people have in seeing old friends. That certainly happened yesterday. The afternoon was filled with hugs and hilarious stories.

One woman approached me and asked me if I knew who she was. I recognized her right away, but her name didn't come to me. It turned out to be Debbie Boerschig, who had lived in my old apartment building--I think my own apartment on the third floor. Debbie is a nurse who began her career at 12th Street Clinic, where I worked from 1971 to 1973. We know many people in common from 12th Street Clinic and from our old neighborhood in Over-the-Rhine. There were other people at the gathering who had lived at 225 Orchard Street--Anne Weinkam and Clare Weinkam. Clare said she moved from the second floor to the fourth floor because the rent was cheaper the further up you went--from 48 dollars a month to $47.50 (or something like that). The rent was astonishingly cheap, and the building fairly well-maintained by our plumber-landlord, whose name I think was "Dougherty." I also saw Joyce [can't think of her last name--Hillstrom?] there--hadn't seen her since maybe the memorial services for Maurice McCrackin or Ernest Bromley. Joyce had lived in the Lang Street house in Over-the-Rhine (as had John Luginbill, Chris Cotter, and other friends). The rent there was $40 per month! Talking to Debbie I heard that one former resident of 225 Orchard had died--Mary "Bird" Bliss. I also learned that Rowena Toews, who had a short, unfortunate marriage to Richard Gale, had also died. So many of our old friends gone--Jack Shereda, Kenny Przybylski, Carolyn Bromley, Maurice McCrackin, Ernest and Marion Bromley, Chuck Matthei--so many.

We also talked about friends who didn't make it to the memorial: Chris Cotter, Henry Scott, Andy Meyer, Denny Ryan, Bonnie Tompkins, Richard Gale, John Luginbill, Joan Levy, and others. We missed them all.

Our prayers are with Greg Haas and his wife Dorothy Glanzer. Rest in Peace, Dorothy.

The Passing of a Good Woman--Dorothy Glanzer, Wife of Old Friend Greg Haas

My old Peacemaker friend Greg Haas, who I met in February of 1971 at the Mansfield House in Cincinnati's Over-the-Rhine neighborhood, lost his wife Dorothy a few days ago. Greg and Dorothy were married in 1983 by Rev. Maurice McCrackin. For most of their married life they lived in Bloomington, Indiana. Greg sent me this beautiful obituary of Dorothy (below). Both Greg and Dorothy have lived beautiful, simple, truthful lives. And for the past 15 years or so of Dorothy's life, she lived with Multiple Sclerosis. It was an incredible challenge to both of them. As a Catholic Christian, I like to think of this as "Redemptive Suffering." It's not something I can explain very well, but it's something I believe deeply in.

Dorothy Mae Glanzer

---

September 4, 1953-May 23, 2014
    Born near Canistota, SD to a hard-working, frugal Mennonite family in an historic Mennonite agricultural community, Dorothy and her three siblings grew up tending chickens, working in the milk house and doing farm chores while attending a mixed-grade, one-room school.
    Studying and boarding at Freeman Junior College, Dorothy took organ and piano lessons and played for church services. After high school she spent a year in a Mennonite cultural exchange program in Switzerland and Germany. At Goshen College, she participated in a study-service term in Honduras, graduating with a B.S in Nursing. After college she worked at Sioux Valley Hospital in Sioux Falls and a summer at a Black Hills Lutheran camp.
    Seeking adventure and wanting to see more of the country, she signed up for Mennonite Voluntary Service where she served two years in Cincinnati, Ohio while living in a MVS community house. Staying in Cincinnati, she worked as a nurse with Dominican Sisters of the Sick Poor for eight years and at Bethesda Hospital’s in-patient hospice for one and a half years.
    While working in the historic Over-The-Rhine, the city’s largest, poorest neighborhood, she met her husband who was working on a low-income housing project. Sharing concerns for social justice, world peace and creating community, they married in 1983 at a home-spun, convivial celebration officiated by Rev. Maurice McCrackin, Cincinnati’s well-known anti-war and social justice activist. In 1989 the couple moved to Bloomington where Dorothy worked part-time in the Bloomington Hospital Rehab and Orthopedic departments for four years, Bloomington Hospice for seven years and Area Ten Agency on Aging for four and a half years until 2004.
    Besides a vocation in nursing, Dorothy enjoyed playing the piano, singing, cooking, socializing with friends, gardening, reading and the great outdoors. A vacation ritual was driving out to South Dakota to visit with family and friends, often getting off the interstates to enjoy the great natural beauty and cultural attractions of the Midwest.    For the last fifteen years of Dorothy’s life, multiple sclerosis was a major challenge forcing her to eventually quit work and relinquish many of the activities she loved to do. For the last ten years she was limited to using her power wheel chair, working endless hours at her computer, reading extensively and watching films. She enjoyed participating in a writing group in which she reflected on her farm life experiences and working in Cincinnati’s poor neighborhoods. She was a formidable Scrabble player. Throughout all her struggles with MS and finally cancer, we will remember her sweet, radiant smile, her equanimity, serenity, grace, poise, and good humor despite her seemingly interminable, ever-deteriorating health. 
    Dorothy was a member of Bloomington Friends Meeting of the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers) and was member of the group that created Mt. Gilead Friends Retreat, a sixty-plus acre natural preserve where all are welcome to be nourished through the wonder and inspiration of nature.
    Dorothy is survived by: her husband of thirty years, Greg Haas; her father, Moses and the late Reva Glanzer of Freeman, SD; Lu Ann Glanzer of Sioux Falls, SD; Nancy and Jeff Fischer of Lincoln, NE; Mark and Margaret Glanzer of Canistota, SD; in-laws, Flora and the late Charles Haas, Sr., Charles Haas, Jr., Linda (Haas) and Greg Hand of Cincinnati; Cindy (Haas) Potter of Burlington, KY; seven nieces and nephews; beloved aunts and uncles; and numerous cousins.
    We would like to thank the many doctors, nurses, home health agencies and aides, area nursing homes and especially Bloomington Hospital (I.U. Health) and I.U. Health Hospice and Hospice volunteers for all the many wonderful and caring services that Dorothy received over the years that added immeasurably to the quality of her life.
    With much gratitude we thank our wonderful, amazing and incredible families and friends for all the assistance in many forms, for their love and support, visits, meals, flowers, cards, phone calls, massages, errands, favors, sewing projects, emergency assistance, care packages, pharmacy and airport runs, etc. over the last ten very difficult years. To have been held in the embrace of love and community has been miraculous. We have been so richly blessed by your celebrating Dorothy’s life in community. We love you all very much.

A memorial service will be held at Hutterthal Mennonite Church in Freeman, SD at a later date. In lieu of flowers, donations can be made in Dorothy’s memory to Mt.Gilead Friends Retreat, 3363 Mt.Gilead Rd., Bloomington, IN 47408, or to the charity of your choice. 

Vietnam Era Societal Tensions: Race, War, Gender

My niece Rachel Sanders has asked me to respond to this question about the Vietnam War Era:

3. What were some of the tensions in society? Was there racial and gender equality?

As I have said in some of my previous responses, my awareness of social issues and tensions gradually developed over the long course of the Vietnam War. My first thoughts on this: the justness of the war and racial tensions were the two biggest issues for most of that era. The Civil Rights struggle predated the Vietnam War, but came to a head in the mid to late 1960's. During that time we have the passing of landmark civil rights legislation, and the murder of figures like Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X. We had the Montgomery Bus Boycott, the Freedom Rides, and sit-ins all over the country. We also had what were called "race riots" in many cities, including Cleveland and Cincinnati. I think "race riot" is a disgusting and misleading term that doesn't begin to get to the complexity of what was happening. I myself felt deeply the murder of Martin Luther King Jr. I remember where I was when I got the news--a strange place indeed. I was hitchhiking across the Grecian isle of Crete. I was riding in a dump truck, along with Brian Wilson and a girl we met on the ferry (She was from Eastlake, amazingly enough). Brian was actually riding on top of the load of gravel being carried by the dump truck. This terrible murder was compounded 2 months later with the murder of Bobby Kennedy. How could we explain America to the Europeans we were going to school and living with after these two terrible events?

Of course, the Vietnam War created almost unbearable tensions, between families, friends, relatives, everybody. To be against the war risked banishment, shunning, almost exile from your family--at least in the earlier years of opposition to the war. Later, the anger against the war culminated in gigantic demonstrations in Washington, D.C. And I was proud to march in these demonstrations.

The issue of gender was never on my mind until very late in my Notre Dame years, say 1968-70. And then that issue exploded into consciousness. I will never forget an incident that took place in the Mansfield Community House in Cincinnati around 1971. We were sitting around after the communal supper and apparently I was pontificating on something. I happened to use the word "mankind" and two or three of the women present walked out of the room because of my use of that word. I learned to be very careful of my word choice! I stopped using the word "girls" to refer to these young women. And "mankind" became "humankind." It was a painful lesson, and maybe not totally fair toward me. But it was a good lesson. I later learned to respect and love these women, many of whom are still working hard for peace and justice.

Fr. Paul Desch, OFM--a Wonderful Priest

My daughter Emily was married earlier this month to Brian Homan of Lima, Ohio; the presider at the wedding was Fr. Paul Desch, a Cincinnati Franciscan. I love the Franciscans and thought if I ever were to pursue religious life it would be as a Franciscan (that train has left the station). I know quite a bit about the life of St. Francis and one of my close Cincinnati friends was Kenny Przybylski, who was a Franciscan brother for about 6 years (Little Brothers of the Poor of St. Francis). Another Cincinnati and Mansfield House Commune friend, Jack Shereda, was also part of that Franciscan order.

Fr. Paul's liturgy was beautiful and both traditional and non-traditional. His homily was especially beautiful. He knew that Brian and Emily met during a summer school semester in Salzburg, Austria, where they studied German. So during the homily Fr. Paul sang a sweet German folk song for them:

Du, du, liegst mir im Herzen.

Du, du, liegst mir im Sinn.

Du, du, machst mir viel Schmerzen--

Weiss nicht wie gut ich dir bin.

Ja, Ja, Ja, Ja,

Weiss nicht wie gut ich dir bin.

The words mean: You, you, are in my heart. You, you, are in my mind. You, you, cause me much pain--you don't know how good I am to you (or for you).

Fr. Paul especially commented on that last line and how good Emily and Brian are for each other. I think he was exactly right.

Since I was so much part of the ceremony and the reception, I wasn't able to take many pictures of Fr. Paul. But below is one from the brunch we had at our Chardon home the day after the wedding; the other from the rehearsal dinner. 

Thanks Fr.Paul!

July 6th brunch at our Chardon home. Fr. Paul is in a white shirt back
and a bit to the left of center. Members of the Homan family
sit with him (also, Bruce Sanders is there on the left).

Rehearsal Dinner, July 4th. Fr. Paul on left, Emily front center, Brian right.

Bluegrass Music at Aunt Maudie's in the 1970's

In the winter of 1971, Chris Cotter and I took over, from Peggy Scherer and Anne Weinkam, the apartment at 225 Orchard Street in Cincinnati's Over-the-Rhine (OTR) neighborhood. Over-the-Rhine was one of the most interesting neighborhoods you could find in America. It was a mostly poor, urban Appalachian area, with remnants of German and Italian-Americans, and a scattering of other ethnic groups. In 1971, there weren't many Blacks in Over-the-Rhine; they were, for the most part, in the West End and on the fringes of OTR. There was a small group of Vista workers; some Mennonite workers from Bluffton College; some peace activists (I guess Chris and I fit into that category); and some young people who were artists or craftsmen. Some people fit none of these categories!

About one quarter mile from our Orchard Street home, near 13th and Main Streets, was a Bluegrass bar called "Aunt Maudie's Country Garden." I am sure that you could not find better Bluegrass music anywhere. We had the best, and there was no cover charge. The beer was served in mason jars and was cheep and plentiful. Life was good!

On the weekends, a band called the "Stony Mountain Boys" played music at the bar--they were stuffed in the back of the long, narrow bar, behind the pool table, just to the right of the men's toilet, on a small, slightly elevated stage. I once asked Junior McIntyre how much he was paid per night. If I remember correctly, he told me $7 bucks a night. Now that couldn't be possible. But whatever they were paid, it wasn't much, and it did not match their incredible talent. [More coming soon]

More about Cincinnati's Boal Street & Cincinnati Communes

There were several community houses (some people might call these "communes") in Cincinnati in the early 1970s, and I was connected to three of them. One loose community was the 225 Orchard Street apartment building in the Over-the-Rhine neighborhood, near Liberty Street and Sycamore. People who lived in that building included me, Chris Cotter, briefly Dan Wenstrup, Clare Weinkam, Annie Weinkam, Peggy Scherer, Jack Shereda, and others who don't immediately come to mind.

About 100 feet across Sycamore Street was the Mansfield House, which was a genuine community or commune. When I moved to Cincinnati from Euclid in late January of 1971, the people in the Mansfield House included Greg Haas, John Luginbill, Joan Levy, Bonnie Tompkins, Andy Meyer, and a handful of other folks. I was never sure if there was an official roster of House residents. Certainly Carolyn Bromley and her brother Dan lived there much of the time, as did Jack Shereda, and, from time to time, Kenny Przybylski. When you add in the frequent visitors, you get a sense of how dynamic and exciting this place was: Denny Ryan, Henry Scott, Mary Alice Shepherd, Chuck Matthei, Peggy Scherer, Anne Weinkam (and her sister Clare and brother Paul), Dick Crowley, Richard Gale, Chris Cotter, Joel Stevens--and so many other wonderful, talented, and committed people.

A third community house, of sorts, developed about a quarter of a mile away, just up the Sycamore Street hill, then down Boal Street, a beautiful hillside street that ran above the Over-the-Rhine basin. I think that somehow Jim Tarbell got hold of the house--for very little money. And Jim let his friends live in the house. The address, if I remember correctly, was 324 Boal St. The house, built in the late 1890s, was a three-story brick house, a style common in Cincinnati's older neighborhoods. This house had a wonderful view, a back yard that was a hillside, and a side yard--something lacking in most of Over-the-Rhine.

For a very short time, when I was between apartments, I stayed in the Boal Street house. Regulars there were Henry Scott and Dan Bromley. A fellow named Jack lived in the first-floor front room; I'm sure many other people lived in that house or stayed temporarily in that house from time to time. I remember that Chris Cotter's dad, Larry Cotter (a prominent architect in Cincinnati), looked over the house to give an opinion on its structural soundness. If I remember correctly, Mr. Cotter was not particularly sanguine about the house's long-term prospects (guess he was wrong!).

I have many fond memories of the Boal Street house. I remember a wonderful party we had on one of the upper floors--must have been around 1975 or so. Lots of people packed in, music and dancing and beer--lots of fun! I remember another time when we took the old Peacemaker Ross Anderson up on the roof. Now Ross was about 75-years-old and blind, so this appeared to be a dangerous stunt. But Ross was so happy to sit under the stars on the roof of that old house. So many wonderful friends, meals, parties. I remember one day playing Scrabble with friends, including Ken Przybylski and Mary Alice Shepherd (now Mary Alice Milnes). Mary Alice took some pictures and when she later showed me a photo she took, I grabbed it and tried to crumple it up. What a dumb, vain move on my part! I wish I had that photo now, with Kenny deceased almost 25 years. Another memory is of Malcolm Dalglish, the great musician, playing his hammer dulcimer in the house--right at the beginning of his folk music career.

One amazing thing I've found about the Internet is that you can type in the address of a house, and then use a function on Google Maps to actually see that house. If you want to try to see the old Boal Street house, type this into Google: 324 Boal Street, Cincinnati, Ohio 45202. Then drag the little yellow icon of a man onto the road and take a look. It's a miracle!

I have also found a photo and property description of this house by going to www.zillow.com, and then typing in the house address.

Where Are the Mansfield House People Now? (#4)

In this blog entry, I will talk about the members of and frequent visitors to the Mansfield House, and where they are now.

Greg Haas lives in Bloomington, Indiana, with his wife Dorothy;
John Luginbill, as far as I know, is in Cincinnati;
Joan Levy is a nurse or nursing prof, who lived for many years in Florida--not sure if she is still there;
Kenny Przybylski is deceased, dying circa 1987;
Jack Shereda, like Kenny a former Franciscan brother, is also deceased (circa 1990);
Caroline Bromley died in a freakish automobile accident, probably around 1980;
Bonnie Tompkins--don't know where Bonnie is, but probably in Cincinnati;
Peggy Scherer--last I heard she worked for the non-profit Heifer International;
Anne Weinkam is a nurse in Cincinnati. Anne's sister Clare Weinkam lives with her husband, Manuel Susarret, in the Clifton neighborhood of Cincinnati; Paul Weinkam, their brother, died some years ago of cancer;
Henry Scott, a nurse, lives with his wife Gina in Baltimore;
Mary Alice Shepherd Milnes lives near Elkins with her husband Gerry Milnes. They are renowned in American folk music circles.
Joel Stevens was in a serious bicycle accident years back and suffered a head injury; I think he's still in Cincinnati;
Dan Bromley, as far as I know, lives north of Cincinnati;
Dick Crowley lives near Boston;
Richard Gale--not sure!
Denny Ryan--I believe he works at the University of Cincinnati.
Chris Cotter, and his wife Linda, live in Urbana, Ohio. Chris is a physical therapist.
Andy Meyer became a physician, a radiologist I believe. For some reason I think he lived in North Carolina.

These were (and are!) wonderful, principled, intelligent, talented people, who have contributed much to the world!

Cincinnati's Mansfield House in Over-the-Rhine (#3)

The Mansfield House was, loosely defined, an intentional community. I guess "anarchists" (and many of these folks were anarchists, but not in the common sense of this term) don't form rigid intentional communities! What held this community together? Well, the community membership was dynamic, with people constantly moving in and out, but they did share many values: a dedication to nonviolence (in the Gandhian and Martin Luther King Jr. sense); opposition to the Vietnam War; and a dedication to living simply. I imagine many members felt marginalized in the normal American world, so there were psychological similarities in many of the Mansfield House's community members. Many came from a religious background. A number of the members were affiliated with the Friends, the Quakers (Dan Bromley, Caroline Bromley, possibly John Luginbill); others found the Mennonites to be friends in spirit; a number of people came out of the Catholic tradition (Peggy Scherer, Greg Haas, Kenny Przybylski, Jack Shereda, Anne Weinkam). One, Joan Levy, was a secular Jew. I didn't know if some others, like Bonnie Tompkins, were brought up in a religious tradition. Some of these people continued to practice their religion; others didn't.

Many people stayed in the Mansfield House for days, or weeks, or even longer, but probably wouldn't have been considered long-time members of the community. Others came over mostly during the day and just occasionally stayed there over night. Among these people would be Joel Stevens, Henry Scott, Mary Alice Shepherd, Chris Cotter, myself, Dick Crowley, Denny Ryan, Clare Weinkam, Paul Weinkam, and possibly Jim Tarbell. There were many others that don't immediately come to mind.

The Mansfield House, in Cincinnati's Over-the-Rhine (#1)

I moved to Cincinnati in late January of 1971. I had been on the phone with my Notre Dame/Innsbruck friend, Chris Cotter, when he said, "Why don't you come down to Cincinnati?" I said, OK, be there soon!"

I had been working for $2.50/hour at Terminal Parking, the parking garage run by Gene Killeeen and his family at West 6th and Superior in Cleveland. I loved the Killeen's, and believe it or not, enjoyed my job. I'm pretty sure we had the best-educated car parkers in the history of the world. At one time, besides Gene (Notre Dame, 1956), we had Earl Hurd (Notre Dame, 1970), me (Notre Dame, 1970), and several other well-educated members of the Killeen family, as well as my Euclid friend Bill Heiss( St. Joseph's, 1966) working there. But I knew that parking cars was not going to be my career. And it was a very tough job working outside that cold and snowy winter of 1970-71. So I decided just like that to make the move. Within days I was in my raggedy old Ford Econoline van, driving down to Chris Cotter's house in Cincinnati .

For a very short time I stayed with the Cotter family in the Western Hills area of
Cincinnati. Then one day Chris and I went down to the Over-the-Rhine neighborhood and found out that we could sublet Anne Weinkam and Peggy Scherer's apartment on the third floor of 225 Orchard Street. The timing was just downright lucky because Anne and Peggy were ready to leave for a very long roadtrip and they needed subletters. And another astonishing piece of luck was that the Orchard Street house was about 150 feet from the Mansfield House, a raggedy old house at the end of Mansfield Street, just off Sycamore and near Liberty, a hundred yards from the old Cutter Junior High School (which later became the famous School for the Creative and Performing Arts). The Mansfield House was one of the most interesting community experiments in the history of Cincinnati--and Chris and I were nextdoor neighbors! [More on the Mansfield House coming in another blog entry.]

Where Is Dick Crowley? VISTA in Cincinnati's Over-the-Rhine

Today I was thinking about AmeriCorps and the VISTA program because my daughter Carolan has interviewed with AmeriCorps State and National and, we hope, will soon be offered a position with them. I don't know the history of VISTA, but think it is a kind of natural growth from the Peace Corps program that John F. Kennedy established--possibly coming out of the LBJ years and the "Great Society" programs of the mid to late 1960s. Of course the roots of VISTA must go back long before that! One need only to think of the Civilian Conservation Corps and the WPA projects of the FDR presidency.

So thinking about VISTA led me to thinking about Dick Crowley, a VISTA volunteer in Cincinnati in the early 1970's. Dick was one of several VISTA people I met in Cincinnati near the Mansfield House commune and the Orchard Street house in Cincinnati's Over-the-Rhine community. Another Cincinnati VISTA name that comes to mind is John Thornton (and his "Thorntonisms"). Dick was a great guy, a giant of a man perhaps 6'5" tall (at least he looked that tall to me!). I'll never forget how Dick recited a Pablo Neruda poem at Chris Cotter's wedding ("I, body of a woman . . .")--slightly under the influence. The recitation was great fun, greeted by hoots and hollers.

In recent years I have found out that I am a direct descendant of Mary Crowley, my great great grandmother, who emigrated from West Cork, Ireland with her husband Daniel Coghlin and her four children, Jeremiah, Bartholemew, Catherine, and Cornelius. Maybe Dick Crowley is a relative--one who got the tall gene. I wish I knew Dick's whereabouts!