Joe McCuen, Rest in Peace

53 years ago, during my plebe (freshman) year at the United States Naval Academy, I decided to audition for the Catholic Choir and the Glee Club. Being a member of these groups was actually a pretty good deal for a plebe since it offered some time away from the rigors of plebe year. 

Membership in the Glee Club was especially desirable since, in those days, it was one of the few organizations that allowed plebes to leave the confines of the Naval Academy for more than a few hours. We gave concerts in New York City, Philadelphia, Boston, and other spots along the east coast, even had a few TV appearances. The Catholic Choir also made occasional trips, and even sang on the White House lawn at JFK's funeral. Most of these trips involved at least one night away from Bancroft Hall. "Mother B", as we affectionately called this huge, eight-winged building, is the Academy's only dormitory and houses all 4,100 midshipmen. And, believe me, any time away from Mother B was a real treat. This was especially true during the bleak winter months, or "dark ages" as midshipman call them.

Catholic Choir 1964 (I'm in there somewhere)

USNA Glee Club 1964 (That's me: 2nd row, far right)

Another benefit of these excursions was the opportunity to enjoy a little female companionship. (These were the days when the service academies were all-male institutions.) Plebes, you see, lived a rather monkish existence in those unenlightened times and were not permitted to date. We couldn't even talk with a young lady while we were in the "yard", as we called the academy grounds. 

The only exceptions to this rule were the occasional, infamous Tea Dances (or "tea fights") at which young ladies from nearby colleges and towns would meet and dance with the plebes. These gatherings were held in cavernous Dahlgren Hall, in those days a huge gymnasium which also served as a rifle storage site. 

A more recent photo of a renovated Dahlgren Hall

The tea fights were organized and run by the Academy's social director at the time, Mrs. Emma Marshall. As one classmate, Dave Church, said at the time of her passing in 1995, "She organized the tea fights, which were tea dances, and we all cursed her under our breath for ruining our Sunday afternoons, because we had to attend. She honed our social skills and in doing so became a much beloved figure. She was, after all, the only female figure we had in Bancroft Hall." I'll not discuss tea fights here except to say they were uniquely strange events. If you'd like to read what one alumnus thought of these Sunday afternoon gatherings, you can click here: Tea Fights.

But I digress...

Master Chief Joe McCuen 1965

While auditioning for the Glee Club and Catholic Choir, I met Joe McCuen, who directed both organizations. Joe, a Navy Master Chief Musician's Mate, was a remarkable man. He was the best choral director and organist I have ever known and was solely responsible for the outstanding quality of the Academy's Glee Club and Catholic Choir. He was also a very nice man, one who put up with our adolescent antics and still managed to get us to perform at a high level.


The last time I saw Joe McCuen was during the week of my graduation in June 1967. A few years later I heard that he had retired from the Navy and relocated to Florida. As is often the case, lives diverge and those who formed a part of our past are forgotten until something or someone brings them to mind once again. Over the years, whenever I heard a glee club or a large church choir perform, I inevitably thought of Joe McCuen. He also entered the conversation when I encountered classmates who had been with me in either choir or glee club. We all thought the world of this wonderful man.

Yesterday I received an email informing me that Joe had died as the age of 87. He lived in  Ponte Vedra Beach, only about two hours from us here in The Villages. I wish I had known he was so close by...but, sadly, I didn't. His funeral Mass will be celebrated on Wednesday afternoon at Our Lady Star of the Sea Catholic Church. Coincidentally, I attended Mass there maybe a dozen years ago when Diane and I visited a deacon friend who ministered in that parish. Small world.

Recent photo of Joe McCuen

I will be unable to attend the funeral because I'm taking another deacon and his wife to a trauma center for a follow-up appointment. They were both injured in an automobile accident late last week when a large truck rear-ended them as they sat at a red light. Their car was totaled, but thank God they survived. Joe will understand, and I will have a Mass celebrated for him at our parish.

To read about this talented man's remarkable life, visit his obituary here: Joe McCuen.

Rest in peace, Joe.

Happy Birthday, Big Brother

Jeff (missing tooth) and Yours Truly, c. 1947

My big brother and only sibling, Jefferson Brian McCarthy, died in January 2010, a little over six years ago. He was born in Bridgeport, Connecticut on February 8, 1941, so today would have been Jeff's 75th birthday. A day doesn't go by when I don't think of him, and miss his presence in my life.

Growing up together, but separated by four years, we probably had the typical big brother-little brother relationship. We fought and wrestled and played together, and shared everything. And I could always count on Jeff to be the protective big brother when I needed reinforcements. Our personalities, though, were as different as day and night, and yet we seemed not to notice or be bothered by the differences. He was by far the smarter, always among the top students in his class, always willing to do the extra work needed to achieve the highest grades and win the prizes and awards. I, on the other hand, found that my interests didn't always coincide with the subjects taught in school, and would spend more time on that which aroused my curiosity. I did what was necessary to earn acceptable grades -- high enough to prevent parental interference -- but I was never a candidate for valedictorian. I suppose our mother understood us best. She once said, "Jeff's the smart one, who wants to please others; but Dana's the clever one who wants to please himself." I'm still not sure if that was a compliment or a criticism.

Our dad, John McCarthy, and Jeff at West Point on graduation day - June 1962

Dana (me), our Mom, and Jeff - Summer 1963 at home in Chatham on Cape Cod

Jeff went to West Point, graduating in 1962, and after a year at Georgetown University, I went to Annapolis, graduating in 1967. Because my grandfather and father both served in the Army, I suppose I was a bit of a black sheep who broke with tradition. But Jeff and I never saw it that way and were proud of each other's service. Our only serious disagreement came on the day of the Army-Navy game.

Jeff's sudden death from heart failure shortly before his 69th birthday came as a shock to me, especially since I'd always assumed he'd outlive me. I know that sounds strange since Jeff was almost four years older, but to me he'd always seemed healthier, at least until his last few years when his health began to deteriorate. Although his decline during those final years was evident, I didn't realize how ill he was. I suppose that's not uncommon: the failure to recognize and accept that one we love is near death. Based on some of our last conversations, I suspect Jeff knew he was approaching the end of his life. I just didn't realize it until later, when I played those conversations back in my mind. 

If I learned anything from Jeff's death it's that we should treasure every moment we have with those we love. Indeed, as Pope Francis is fond of reminding us, we should treasure every person we encounter, every child of God, and recognize the presence of Jesus Christ within them. That's a hard lesson to learn and put into practice.

Rest in peace, big brother, I'll see you again soon enough.

Go Navy!!

On Friday Dear Diane and I left Williamsburg and made the drive to Fairfax without driving a mile on an interstate highway. As a result we were blessed with some beautiful scenery and even encountered three bald eagles that flew alongside the car only feet away from us. What magnificent birds! Unfortunately I was driving (and being tailgated by a local in a pickup) and was unable to take any photos without careening off the road.

Above: fall colors in rural Virginia
We're now enjoying the hospitality and lovely home of our old friends, the Lees, who have agreed to put up with us for a few days. Yesterday, while Nancy and Diane roamed through the shops of Annapolis, Dave and I took advantage of his season tickets and spent the afternoon at Navy-Marine Corps Memorial Stadium as the Naval Academy's football team beat Georgia Southern, 53-19 -- a wonderful day for Navy football.

Above: Navy on its way to another score

Above: the Navy stadium during the game
Before the game the four of us went to the Midshipmen Store to pick up a few USNA souvenirs and then took a short walk to check out the statue of Tecumseh who's always painted up for each game. I also took advantage of the opportunity to stop by my Class of 1967 tailgate get-together and renew some old friendships.

Above: Tecumseh ready for Georgia Southern


Above: Nancy and Dave at USNA

Above: Dear Diane and I standing outside the window to my room back in 1966-67

Above: 1967 classmates -- Dave Church, me, Pete Nanos
This morning we attended Mass with the Lees at their parish church, Holy Spirit Catholic Church in Annandale, a welcoming and Spirit-filled parish. We decided just to chill this afternoon and watch football -- a needed day of rest. Tomorrow we leave Virginia and begin our trip home. We've had a wonderful stay but look forward to returning to the warm air of sunny Florida.
Pax et bonum...

Blue Angels over Annapolis - In the Cockpit

This is more than a little change of pace from my usual post, but as an old, retired naval aviator, I couldn't resist sharing this video. It was taken from the cockpit of one of the Blue Angels' FA-18s during an air show over the Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland. I suggest viewing it "full-screen" if you have a good monitor. Enjoy...