My Book

Did I mention I am taking a stab at writing a book? I started to consider this daunting task many years ago while studying for my graduate degree. I had spent many, many hours on the computer for research papers, when one day it occurred to me how incredibly useful the computer could be.

My dad and his twin brother, Ray, had researched the family history and put together a soft covered manuscript of the McInerny family.  As I poured through the pages and photographs, I was left wondering what these people from Ireland were really like. My curiosity was tingled and I wanted to know more. Then I began to think about when my kids were little and the stories I told them about Minnesota. I decided to begin putting the stories to paper.

My goal is not to write a best seller. I will leave that to my more articulate family members. Rather, the purpose of the book is to give my grandchildren and their children a sense of who their grandfather was, other than a name from long ago. I want future generations of McInery's, Koyama's and Ali's to know about Paul D. McInerny the person.

I would hope the book would take a place of comfort in their homes, perhaps next to faded year books or old magazines. The type of book that you would pull from the shelf on a rainy day, blow the dust off the cover and sit down with a cup of tea or coffee. Catch a glimpse of who I was and read a few of my most intimate thoughts and fears.

What started out as a story of my past life soon turned to something of a journal. Someone asked when I would publish my work. I am not ready for that, for I make additions and changes monthly. I feel there is still much to write about. Things that haven't happened, yet. And there are the many photographs to sort through.

I suspect I will publish my book sometime in my 80's. If my time on earth comes unexpectedly before, then it is my hope that my children pick up the pieces and send it to one of the many online publication services and distribute a few copies to family members.

Until then, I shall write on!

Happy Birthday, Roger Jr.

August 17th, 1950. Roger James McInerny, Jr. was brought into this world at St. Mary's Hospital, Minneapolis, MN. To get a glimpse of what our family, especially Roger, was all about, I would encourage you to read past articles written by a most gifted and articulate journalist, Vivian McInerny. She has written a few articles detailing our wonderful life growing up in Richfield, MN.

From my perspective, I remember Roger as the good and obedient son. The son who did well academically and religiously. He was an alter boy and a choir boy. He had a paper route back in the time when the paperboy delivered the newspaper directly to your home and placed it inside the screen door to keep it from the elements of Minnesota's rain or winter. When the paperboy took a few nights out of the month to go door-to-door to collect the subscription money from the customers.

As young teenagers, Roger and cousin Kim road their bicycles to Winona, Minnesota one summer; alone. Something like that would not even be considered today. Too dangerous, foolhardy. But they were an adventurous pair and ride they did!

Roger went onto college and attended classes faithfully. I never knew what his future plans were or what was his major, but one day he came home an announced he was joining the army. It seems there was an anti-war speaker at the campus who told his audience that a certain segment of the population was doing all the fighting in Vietnam while the rich, white kids from the suburbs stayed home. Roger did not think that was fair and wanted to do his part. While we did indeed live in a suburb of Minneapolis, I guess no one told Roger we weren't rich.

So he enlisted. A month later I too enlisted. I cannot speak for Rog, but I was very, very naive. "My country, right or wrong." "My country - love it or leave it." The slogans of the patriotic conservatives. We had to prevent the domino theory from becoming reality in South East Asia.

April 1, 1970, 2 weeks after he had arrived in Vietnam, Roger Jr., was killed in a orchestrated attack on Firebase Illingworth. He received the Silver Star, the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart in the worst way possible: posthumously.

Today, I remember the older brother that I played baseball with and built forts in the dirt field behind Kenny Harwood's house. I want to remember playing touch football at Centennial School and riding our bikes by Minnehaha Falls and the Mississippi River, over the Ford Bridge and into St. Paul.

I want to wonder, too, what Roger would have looked like at age 62. I wonder about his kids and grandkids. I wonder, as I quite often do - why Roger?

But most of all, I just want to wish Roger Jr. a most happy birthday and to let him know we all remember him!

Happy Birthday, Roger Jr.

I'm Back

It is too hot out so I decided to browse through my computer and clean it out when I came across my Blog. Like the portals of my mind, my Blog has grown stagnant and old articles, opinions and stories sit like moss on a damp log. It is time for a new entry.

Life is good. I am relatively healthy albeit a tad pudgy and what is with the white hair?! When I look into the mirror for my morning shave, I am still not convinced that the person staring back at me is actually me.

Photographs are an interesting means of nostalgia. I have looked back on the days when Brian, Jenna and Meghan were my little babies. Today, Brian has four girls, Jenna has a boy and girl and my baby, Meghan, is pregnant with her first child. While my Blog suffered writers malnutrition, Meghan married her high school sweetheart.

We had the good fortune to spend 5 weeks in Europe a few years ago. It was incredible to actually see the sites that until then were only photographs in a travel guide or history book. Rome, Italy, Ireland, France and England. We will be going back in 2014, but this time we will visit Eastern Europe.

I bought a 2005, Harley-Davidson, Road King Classic. Can't really call it a mid-life crisis at my age, but I just had the overwhelming urge to ride again. It felt good. It felt powerful. It felt natural. Been riding up and down PCH and enjoying the ocean view while keeping a wary eye out for people who like to turn left in front of motorcycles.