Yes, Lenny Would Definitely Do That

Lenny D. was one of the toughest boys in my little working-middle-class neighborhood in New York City.  It was a tough town, so Lenny had to work pretty hard to keep up his reputation.  He proved the old truism about fighting: it ain't a damn weight lifting contest.  Lenny wasn't the strongest boy in town, or the biggest, but he was strong, and very fast, and he was determined to hurt you badly, pretty much in the blink of an eye.  He's been dead for a while, but everybody on the "Memories of College Point" website remembers him, if not always fondly, quite well. 

Recently a long thread was turned over to discussing a certain family in town.  They were famous for having "a child in every grade," eleven children all together.  I didn't know the oldest boy, Tommy, but evidently he was a terror.  He would have been maybe five years older than Lenny, but being older didn't stop him from picking on other boys, and other boys being bigger or older never slowed Lenny down either.  It seems that Tommy and Lenny got into it a few times. 

So the story, from Lenny's older brother, went this way:

Many years ago Tommy died, and Lenny showed up at the funeral.  One of Tommy's five brothers was at the door, and he knew about the bad blood that had always existed between Tommy and Lenny.  Probably existed between this brother and Lenny too.  So the brother asked Lenny, "what are you doing here?"  Thinking that maybe he should not let Lenny in. 

"Don't worry," says Lenny, "I just want to make sure the prick's dead." 

Local Boy Makes Good

This is a picture of Patrick J. Purcell, the owner and publisher of the Boston Herald.  He has had a very, very successful career in the newspaper business, and this comes as no surprise to me. 

We, Patty and I, grew up in the same little working class corner of Queens, we went to the same Catholic grammar school.  He was an all around great guy. 

Even back then we could all see that he had leadership potential.  I was reminded of Patty the other day when the subject of informal baseball games came up on the "Memories of College Point" website.  These were "choose-up" games.  During the summer a lot of boys would show up spontaneously at the park with their gloves, ready to play baseball.  Two boys would be appointed team captains, they would then play some kind of contest to see who chose first, like throwing odd or even fingers (like rock, paper, scissors, but different), or catching a bat in the air and then seeing whose hand came out on top.  Then they would take turns picking their team.  Patty was frequently picked to captain one of the teams.  He was athletic, a good player, and he was a natural leader.  So, no surprise that he's made something of himself.

Patty, I hope you're doing good.  The wealthy and wise are in the public record, and I hope that the health is right up there too.  Live long and prosper, brother.  People remember you fondly.