Today's instantaneous mass media -- so often such unseemly, chatter-journalism, is not my cup of tea and it dispirits me to no end.
So, I wanted to share a story about honor and reverence. Our local print newsman, Ed.
Each week, I look forward to reading (scouring) my Community Newspaper. Silly and possibly a bit voyeuristic, I know.
On the other hand, I see something sweet and decent and peaceful about the local weddings, parades, parties and events of our villages--which often have absolutely no connection to the the sharpness the world, outside the enclave of towns which line the Pascack Valley.
Also, I enjoy the chronicles about people who may have lived in the area throughout its history. Thank goodness for local historical societies and their beautiful photographs. And of course, the farmers who had the foresight to start print shops, for some reason.
Mr. Flynn, a WWII Infantry veteran, a journalist and resident of this area for nearly a century, has submitted his column After Thoughts (his observances of his life in New Jersey) to the paper every week without fail. No excuses. That is one of the hallmarks of The Greatest Generation...great fortitude of obligation. (Some seem to like to grill London Broil a lot too).
Recently, Mr. Flynn'e wife Dolores, passed away. This is a sad time for Ed, but it will surely be a lonely and reflective time as well. It's been reverently documented that Mrs. Flynn had been a superb domestic engineer and cornerstone, not only of their home, but possibly their neighborhood as well. :-)
In all the years I've been following Mr. Flynn's column, his references to his wife, his children, his parents and their lives here in New Jersey, have been charming; funny at times; often acerbic but always with much grace and respect and high esteem.
I know many U.S. WWII men (and a couple of London WWII taxi drivers). The words emotional or tender do not come to mind. But I do know that Ed loved Dolores...he was very grateful for their lives together. Mr. Flynn honored Mrs. Flynn in the greatest way he knew how.
My Deepest Sympathies, Mr. Flynn.
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