Pat Cotter -his and our story

A Tribute to Pat/Dad- June 20,2002 and always...

Let’s all take a deep breath and relax... I recently heard that Winston Churchill got up to deliver the commencement address at a prestigious Ivy League college, came to the microphone and stated ,“Ladies and Gentlemen -”Never Give Up!” Three words and he sat down. I won’t follow suit, but you will be greatly relieved to know I have trimmed my eulogy from the original hour length to something shorter...

Every person’s life is a story- unique, incomparable, precious, and priceless -a gift shared with family, friends, the world. Speaking for us all I’ll try to give voice to Pat Cotter’s story and gift.

Two anecdotes are a very funny and meaningful starting place. Unlike many other males, Pat was willing to seek healing for life’s heartaches. I tried to be his healthcare interpreter/facilitator and so we sat with a very empathetic psychiatrist who as part of the evaluation handed Dad a pencil and paper and asked him to write a sentence. I kept quiet and wondered to myself if he remembered or even ever knew what a sentence was.... I don’t think I had ever seen him write one, only seen him make lists or sign his name. Pat took the paper and pencil, paused a moment and began to write and I knew in a flash what he wrote, and I was right. The psychiatrist took the paper and read Pat’s perfect sentence- “What am I doing here? ”On another occasion he stayed in the car while I ran in to pick up medications and I left him a Boston Globe magazine to read, an interview with Loretta LaRoche, about her work with humor and healing. I don’t know if he actually read it, but when I returned to the car and asked him what the point of the article was, he immediately answered with a half statement, half question- “We’re all human?’...Pat was an inadvertent existentialist, voicing the fundamental question and answer.. mostly we are here, just being the best humans we can be.. a man, a husband, a father, a brother, a neighbor ,a friend, a member of the community, country, the world.

Pat’s story is a weaving of the past and recent present.. Bernard Patrick (that’s Pat) Cotter was born on St.Patrick’s day, March 17,1923 in Roxbury. He grew up around Dudley Station selling Father Coughlin’s Social Justice, cleaning cars for change and shagging coffee and donuts for the guys at a Dudley Square battery shop, hence the nick-name “Donuts” (hence his life long affinity for them) His Dad, a truck driver passed away when Pat was 13,but somehow Mother Margaret, brothers Jimmy, Billy and sister Niddy persevered together. Dad spoke of the Glenwood AC= Athletic club...neighborhood friends (“Bummy “ King,the Dunns...- Malcolm Taylor and George Abyssinian his black friends.. “People were people”, he’d say, “we hung out together, went to school together, worked together - we lived together, whatever the race or religion.” I never recall hearing Pat Cotter make a prejudiced comment and I will never forget back in 1968 during a very heated public meeting to discuss having the Metco bussing program bring a single bus of Black student volunteers to Quincy Schools to foster interracial communication and understanding -this met with a great deal of public hostility and opposition - Pat stood up at the microphone in front of the crowd of 1,000 and declared “Give the program and the kids a chance.. When we wanted to come into this community from Roxbury, Dorchester, South Boston or wherever, nobody stood in our way and everyone deserves to have the opportunity we had.” Just recently from his sickbed he remarked-”WE should not argue or fight“... words for us and our ailing world to keep in heart and mind.

As a member of the “Greatest Generation” and that designation is the truth, not just a popular cliche, he served in the Army Field Artillery in the Pacific Islands and Japan. On March 23 of this year, after Joe and Chris’s wonderful wedding on Kauaii - Pat could not be there because of his health, I visited the Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor...an awesomely powerful reminder that the fate of human freedom literally depended upon that generation and they triumphed due to their extraordinary dedication and sacrifice. I brought him back a flag pin as a momento ; it’s on his lapel today. I recall that while on Oahu during the war Pat was riding in a troop truck which collided head on with a bus; the soldier next to him was killed instantly, but he saw it coming ,threw himself on the floor of the truck , and thanks to his quick reflexes and luck he survived. We would not be here today if his comrades and he had not prevailed. I am reminded of that theme in the film “It’s a Wonderful Life”- what the world would have been like without George Bailey- how can we imagine a world that did not have Pat.
On April 19, 1949,Patriot’s Day, Mom and Dad married. Many of us were together to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary on April 19,1999 as Uncle Sam read greetings from city, state, The White House and a Vatican blessing. There are wonderful pictures and memories...Pat laughed heartily. The term “paroxysm of laughter “ described him when he really laughed until speechless with tears running down his cheeks. He tried on Sam’s star-spangled hat and saluted us. That was a wonderful Cotter family testimonial and Dad has always been a family man, a father. Another of his verbal gems- I remember as a teenager replying to one of his suggestions in a less than sweet, slightly sarcastic tone -”That’s a great idea Dad!” to which he shot back in a heart beat, and I’ll never forget “You were one of my great ideas Michael...” He and Mom had four more great ideas- Kevin, Rick, Bill and best of all Mary. We have never doubted that Mom and he loved us each uniquely, individually and unconditionally ,with such tenderness and forgiveness. Another anecdote- I was driving Pat home from dialysis, passing through Quincy Square. I was saying how some grown up children have troubled relationships with their parents because of their parents alcoholism, abuse, neglect etc.- that cycle of hurt so many have painfully experienced and repeated. And I said to Dad, as I had at other times before-”Dad, I just want to tell you again what a great father you have always been to me Kev, Rick, Bill and Mary. His reply? “All right -we shan’t speak of it again!” He said some amazingly funny and poignant things which I am going to write up for our family’s private treasury -but really his actions always spoke loudest throughout our childhood. While Mom held the fort as homemaker, for 25 years Pat had an occupation that has all but disappeared - a milkman for Whiting’s Milk-up by 4:30 A M - 5, 6,and for a time 7 days a week, bounding up stairs two at a time with a carrier full of dairy products doing home delivery or jumping up and down off the back of a loaded truck, pulling and stacking cases and wheeling them into stores ,very hard physical work in every kind of weather. We all got a taste of it , going along as his helper, even Mary. How much milk do you have to sell to pay for 60 plus years of parochial elementary and high school? Pat figured it out and did it. He had a real zest for this work, really enjoyed the sociability and wheeling -dealing of the job- and the union, more on that in a moment. There was such a cast of characters and stories over those years. Like how he showed up for the first delivery at Brigham’s in Wellesley with a co-worker’s jacket with the name “Tom” emblazoned on it The staff greeted him every time over the next ten years as” Tom” even though his own jackets read Pat. They never asked, and he never told .I’d get into the truck after the delivery and say “where to now, Tom?”

Where to? As kids we had some amazing travel adventures, extraordinary for the 1950’s and 1960’s. Mom says Dad was the impetus, very spontaneous preparations and we were on the road, the four boys in the back seat, Mom and Mary in front with Pat driving forever, the car absolutely jam packed with borrowed army blankets and a tent a coleman stove and coolers of food. We camped in Canada and across the USA, had luxurious motel trips to NYC and DC. How many times did he call out the window with a “hiyo” to get directions: how much did these adventures form our future directions and destinations! In later years he enjoyed trips to Greece and Italy (3 times), but most especially that golden spot on Island Pond in NH.

Pat was on the one hand a very private man who lived for his family, but he also took some very public actions. He held various elected positions in Teamsters Local 380 and served as President for eighteen years. Why? He was a true union worker and union leader; he believed in honest organized labor, the movement that brought fair wages, decent working conditions, benefits and a voice for each one based on the unity of everyone. Likewise he was a loyal Democrat because he knew from life experience that despite all its faults it was and always will be the political party that brings the most power and prosperity to the most people ,and the people who need it most. He also saw a need in his neighborhood for youth recreation and for a time directed the Koch Club community basketball league for the kids of Hough's Neck. Pat loved kids of all stages and ages- he was enthralled by the magic of newborns, made merry by the wonder of toddlers...he had great affection for his family by marriage, especially his many nephews and nieces- and we Cotter kids have cherished ,childhood memories of times shared with our uncles, aunts and cousins, especially the Maguires, Ingrahams, Flynns and Wynns.

Favorite saying- “Oh’my God, No!”(or Yes!) We would laugh at his seemingly automatic response, but his faith was measured in deeds all his life - especially with such powerful resolve and respect as when so disabled , he recently attended the funerals of his friend Charlie Dedian and my other beloved father, Bob Roche. He and they were Godly, mighty men!

Favorite song-”Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” and also opera, Pavoratti, Domingo, Carreras (He was a true supporter of a band called “ Sea Bright” and the lyrical philosophy “a good word, a smile, a helping hand will just make somebody’s day!”)
Favorite Movie- “The Sound of Music” tied with “The Wizard of Oz” (“There’s no place like home!”-and since 1956 we have shared such a special home/neighborhood at 16 Peterson Road,”The Willows”,just at the beginning of Houghs Neck,on Quincy Bay ... we will escort Pat past his beloved home on the road to his final resting place.
FAVORITE people - for “Bumpa’ his seven grandchildren each uniquely and individually cherished...Joe, Pat, Jess, Alisa, Kate, Lisa and Shawn- his special joy and sidekick. Along with Jaye he should be in the “Grandparents Hall of Fame” for most observation/participation in grandchildren’s church/school/sporting events. One of his last outings in April just out of rehab after a fall, was to watch from the Notre Dame High School hillside in his wheelchair as Lisa played catcher on the softball team and Alisa ran by with the track team.

Throughout the last 3 years as his health deteriorated, I’d ask Dad periodically if he wanted to continue with the array of life prolonging meds, tests and treatments. I would say,” It’s your decision. Do you want to continue with all of this, continue to live ?”...“Yes!”, he declared, “Of course I want to live!” “ Why?” I asked gently. “Because I’m a Catholic, and for the family!” Throughout it all there was still some very funny and sweet humor with statements such as when having a diminished voice at times -”Why is it I have a voice like a mouse?” Or when asked to give some assistance- “Help you? - I couldn‘t help an ant! ”. He needed so much help and received it with grace and gratitude. It has been a struggle, especially the past year, made easier by so many caregivers. Our thanks to all the doctors, nurse practitioners, (first and foremost- always there, truly our Family Nurse Practitioner, Cyndy) therapists, technicians and aides who have shared their skill and compassion at HVMA, B& W Hosp, Faulkner Hosp., Boston Dialysis, and finally Old Colony Hospice and Crestview Nursing Home. The constant and best caregiver has been- Jaye - Mom, in Education you were a Master, just shy of a Doctor, but in caring for Pat you have been a Nurse Extraordinaire every day of these past years. You have been so inspiring as you vowed “in times of sickness“, you brought him your healing love. Dad’s life was a gift to you and us ,and what a blessing and gift that you and each of us Mary, Kevin, Rick, Bill and I and our children could surround him with such love and care - body, heart and soul. His children by marriage Tom, Claire Judy and Cyndy have loved him as a second father with truly amazing patience, nurturing and devotion.

On May 17th while Mom, Mary, Cyndy and I visited Dad along with his beloved sister Niddy and brother in law Jimmy, Dad started talking about seeing what he called “two miracles - one was seeing the whole family together. I said to him yes -the first miracle is that he was born and lived- that he joined his life with Mom’s and in love together they made our family. The second miracle I told him is that the love goes on each day, forever. There is a book entitled “Everything I Needed to Know for Life I learned in Kindergarten” - Dad said some very sweet and powerful things over the past weeks -we could say some of the most important things to live a good life we learned from Pat Cotter... among Dad‘s declarations ..”We have to have better memories.. that this life is too short...we should not argue or fight ..a family is a miracle ..to be together is the best thing ...we are so lucky!” Finally Dad asked the most stirring and fundamental question of all , ”What happened to Pat Cotter?” We told him everyday, in every way, always - Pat Cotter? He lived and loved and will always be remembered and loved , until we are together again...