News From Fort Schuyler

July 15, 2002 - Volume 6, No. 24

"Subject: A Great Reunion Story

We live in an age of ever increasing intensity in our daily lives brought on by technology and just plain busyness of purpose. The Good Lord, whoever or wherever He may be, seems to be trying to tell us something.

Take yesterday, June 13, 2002 for example:

We are 10 old friends and classmates who had come together at Dennis Coughlin's Lake House at Lenoir City, Tennessee for a mini-reunion. We come from different parts of the United States and from ever increasing different family backgrounds:

Doc. Dennis Coughlin, our host came from Knoxville, Tennessee
Stan Bartels came from Short Hills, New Jersey
Joel Cox came from Gilbert, Arizona and Danbury Connecticut (1/2 year each)
Jack Fitzsimmons came from Orange River, Florida
Jack Hayes came from Dataw Island, South Carolina
Stan Hecker came from Biloxi, Mississippi
Sy Hyman came from Manhattan, New York
Ed Ledogar came from Long Island, New York
Dick Lund came from Ormond Beach, Florida
Marty Zurn came from Howell, Michigan

We are for the most part, fathers who try to play out our modern day parental or grandparental roles correctly and within our allotted (limited) leadership authority. We are all attempting to cope with ever increasing problems of health and how each of us should control his life while allowing himself at least some simple pleasure (a glass of an alcoholic beverage here, a sweet there, etc.)

On to this scene the events of last Thursday occurred one after another and it seems to me we must at least step back and look at them objectively; laugh or at least try to appreciate what someone up there is trying to tell us.

We all arose about 7 or 8 a.m., got ourselves something for breakfast, washed and made our beds. We then met, gabbed and started bickering; kiddingly for the most part; trying to be funny, but bickering nevertheless. At least half of us are hard of hearing and otherwise handicapped making the whole assembly a shouting match.

Five of us got into one vehicle about 10:00a.m. and went to play golf, one as a watcher.

While on the first tee, Doc. Coughlin (recently, himself seriously invalided) was called away to the 6th tee to attend to a golfer (our age) who had collapsed. That golfer was revived and taken away by ambulance, but we learned later he died apparently on the way to the hospital. Doc. Coughlin came back to the first tee and we resumed our game (with somewhat of a sense that this sort of exercise is doing us some physical good.)

We all survived 9 holes and returned to Doc's lake house to find four of our five remaining reunioners anxious to go to lunch (either by boat as previously planned or by car.)

Our 10th member, Dick Lund had left to drive 30 miles or so away -- only to learn that his friend, who he hadn't heard from recently had died in January of this year.

We decided to forget the boat and split our group into two vehicles and drive to lunch (since the weather was threatening.) Marty Zurn, however, had walked down to the dock to get the boat ready and apparently everyone forgot about him. He was mad as HELL !

Marty could see up the hill and saw the second suburban, which I was driving, pull away. He was shouting - to no avail.

I was doing my best in the meanwhile to follow my friend Joel Cox's directions because he is severely handicapped but, admirably, wants to and does as much as he can, for himself.

While trying to follow Joel's directions carefully, J.J. Hayes took it upon himself to decide we were doing it all wrong. J.J. was shouting orders and I was shouting back. None of the four of us heard or saw Marty trying to shout and signal to us from the dock below (we thought Marty was in the first vehicle.)

When we got to the top of the hill, the first vehicle was waiting for us probably thinking Marty was with us.

In the confusion I guess I left the emergency brake on because our vehicle was acting funny. We tried to signal the first vehicle to stop, but they were probably bickering and didn't see or hear us or whatever.

We smelled brakes burning, stopped, got it corrected and proceeded, each believing Marty was in the other car. Marty was back at the Lake House, pissed as HELL!

As we were going into the restaurant for lunch such a wild wind storm arose we were all glad we hadn't come by boat.

When seated together we asked "Where's Marty?" Doc Coughlin said he probably decided to do his own thing. We thought little more of it.

When we came out of the restaurant and got Joel by wheelchair back into his car the three of us waited patiently for J.J. to come back to our vehicle. It turned out he rode back in the other vehicle without telling us - so there we sat, waiting for him.

We then got back to the Lake House had more bickering, more jokes, more computer line interruption; more phone calls to friends and associates; a great dinner of shrimp brought (as usual) from Mississippi by Stan Hecker and fireworks shot off (as usual) by me, but this time for the first time, to a chorus of jeers from an unhappy next door neighbor whose house wasn't even there last year. (He was probably trying to act like a father, as best he knew how.)

And what is the message? Surely it's not that life is short, so appreciate each day - because we all know that one only too well.

Perhaps it's- let's try to appreciate one another more; the gifts we are to one another are fragile - let's handle them with a little more care.

Anyway, what the hell do I know?- I bought some Lucent at 50 -
Ed Ledogar NYSMA Class of 1947."