Rest In Peace

When I gazed at the calendar yesterday, I realized “Summer is waning.”

Later that afternoon, I read Regis Philbin had gone to meet his Maker.

And I knew then more than summer was waning.

The famed gentleman and I were not friends nor did we ever speak a word to each other.

Yet we shared a time and place during our early teenage years.

Both our families were parishioners of the famed parish of St. Paul the Apostle in New York City.

Regis and his parents, walked each Sunday to the 12:40 Mass, as I did also.

The difference was the Philbin family lived and walked on the east side of Ninth Avenue and mine on the west side.

“The Avenue” in those years was a line of demarcation.

I remember it well because each Sunday as we approached the church from different locations, I gazed wistfully across the street. I watched the handsome young man walking along with the two adults I assumed were his parents.

And I would think, “I wish he was taller,” or sometimes, “I wish I were shorter.” Little did I realize how tall this young man would grow in fame, reputation and admiration during the years to come.

We never arrived at the magnificent stone staircase leading to the church at the same time. Nor did the handsome teenager ever hold one of the wooden doors open for the young impressionable girl who watched him every Sunday from across the avenue.

However, many, many years later that young girl wrote a book about life in the parish of St. Paul the Apostle. She sent a copy to the now famed Regis Philbin.

His reply was more than I anticipated. He recalled the joy we both experienced at. a time and place long gone, and graciously thanked me for sharing my memories.

Today as I read about his passing and the eulogies, all so well deserved, I realize more than summer is waning, and I hope he went gently into the night.

R.I.P. to a Gentleman.