FRIEND AT THE END OF THE BAR
David McBride were pouring pints and potables for pipers, parade
patrons and the personage of the Ancient Order of Hibernians, Thomas
Connally stood his usual post at the end of the bar. For three
consecutive yearly St. Patrick’s Day celebrations in Jim Thorpe he lent
color and commentary to the festivities in the snug shebeen located in
the back room of the Gilded Cupid Bed and Breakfast. In the midst of
this hoopla and hell raising we struck up a friendship, and began a
serious conversation that unfortunately would never be finished.
Tom, the loving father of our associate editor, Kathleen Connally,
passed away during the summer of 2008.
Our friendship was about two roguish
iconoclasts, who in actuality were sensitive softhearted men, soothing
their mutually troubled souls with a bit of wit and whisky. Our
conversation was about the existence of God. This was quite the apropos
subject for any St. Patrick’s Day, considering that even the reality
and historic facts surrounding the chief patron saint of Ireland have
been brought into question.