Episode 5 Extras: You Can Still See USCG Duane
...it just takes special equipment. Plus, read the eulogy I gave at Dad's funeral mass.
See the whole video slideshow at From Pine to Palm on YouTube. There are lots of pictures of my family, but some of the boat, too!
The US Coast Guard Cutter Duane, built in 1936, was decommissioned in 1985 and sunk off of Key Largo to become a part of the Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary. Read more about it here—it's a very popular dive spot. My father served aboard her in the 1970s as a radarman and marksman.
Image credit: NOAA
Here's a picture of our family at her decommissioning. I do hope to dive on the wreck someday, and know that a cousin or two would like to come as well.
The Eulogy I Gave
We went to church every Sunday and on holy days of obligation. But when we were kids, if it was particularly nice outside on a Sunday morning, the four of us would head out to go to church, and a little bit down the road Dad would say, “Nah, let’s go to the beach.” We’d go to Wallis Sands State Park, outside the gate, and crawl down the rocks on the north side of the beach and make our way down to where the McFarland of Ford dealership fame had a house on the point.
It wasn’t like we weren’t at church, though. Our family would quietly and meditatively walk in a way that was part mandate, part following Dad’s lead. It was meandering, with a lot of staring and looking out at the ocean with our feet in the water and our shoes in our hands, and filling our pockets with shells.
We weren’t allowed to keep broken ones, even if they had a pretty stripe to them or some unique color. Dad would give them a tight inspection for keepers, and I kept a bit of room in my pockets for the small tide pools closer to the south end of the beach.
Before turning around, we’d spend time at the inlet that interrupts the beach... a river that feeds salt water into Wallis Marsh as tide rises, and drains it as tide approaches low. Frames of a wrecked barge used to stick out of the sand there, (now on display at the Seacoast Science Center) and Dad would start to talk about the mess that he and the NH pollution control people had cleaned up there. But here it was, beautiful and clean. In fact, I don’t remember exactly what the mess was. We got to hear the story and see tangible evidence of the happy ending of a story.
We were visiting one of Dad’s achievements. He was proud that he had been a part of it. I’ve bragged about it, too, with friends I’ve brought there. We’d walk back up the beach and before getting in the car, Dad would ensure every grain of sand was off of our shoes, hands, and clothes. Then we would go get breakfast somewhere like Harvey’s Bakery. Somewhere with good cinnamon rolls and fun waitstaff to whom dad would express lots of gratitude.
And now, in one vignette, you have nearly everything you need to know about my father, particularly if you take a moment to lean in, as you might do while standing in front of an impressionist painting, to see individual brush strokes.
My family wants to offer, in a very public way as people are gathered in prayer, gratitude to everyone who supported my father in his cancer journey. Especially Dr. Bradley McGregor, Dr. Mai Anh Huynh, Dr. Shyam Kumar Tanguturi, Dr. Raymond Mak, Dr. Joseph Mancias and Dad’s primary care physician, Dr. Michael C. Kumin. May they continue work that marries wisdom, care, and innovation, and I pray for a world where everyone can receive care as my father did, regardless of where they live, where they came from, or if they can pay for it.