July 30, 2015- Today marks the only birthday of an uncle-by-marriage that I remember from my childhood. John Ellsworth “Ellie” Reilly would have been 99 years of age today.  Uncle Ellie and Aunt Hazel were my godparents, during my Roman Catholic upbringing, and had their birthdays within a few weeks of one another.  Aunt Hazel would have no part of us knowing her birthday, but always made a fuss over her husband’s, so the next-to-last day of July was always a big event.

Ellie was the youngest of five children, and despite being of slight build, had an Irish temper that put the fear of God in those who needed to be set straight.  I was one of the lights of his life, so that fear found me, via another source.  Uncle worked in a meat-packing plant for about twenty years, then arthritis set in, President Nixon expanded the SSDI, and Ellie found himself minding the house, while Aunt Hazel worked a payroll job at the G. E. plant.  They never had much, but their house was always the venue for family gatherings, at Christmas time.  The two of us Godchildren got a few bucks around then, also- that was the Reilly way. Hazel and Ellie also got me started with National Geographic Magazine, at age 9,and I’m still a member of NGS, 56 years later.

I recall one summer when I was about twelve, such a tactful age, that- I mentioned to Ellie that some of the people about town were speaking uncharitably of the houses on his street.  His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing to me- though my Dad gave me what for, a day or two later.  Nonetheless, the next time I walked over to visit, I noticed the yards west of theirs had been tidied up.  I know Uncle and Aunt had a well-kept yard, because I kept it nicely.

Uncle Ellie passed on in 2002, as Fall was making its own turn for the worse.  He would sound off about all manner of current events, but I seldom heard a word about his ailments.  Truth be known, his was a generation that regarded ailments as private business.  He chose to spend his time, once left off of the Job Train, reading all manner of books, fiction and non-fiction, when he wasn’t prognosticating which dog would win at the Wonderland Race Track.  It was a life lived honestly, and he remains one of the most beloved men of my youth.

I will remember, for all time, our intense and somewhat heated debates over the efficacy of the Nixon Administration, and after August, 1974, he humbly owned up to having been far too trusting of his fellow Republicans.  Of course, once Mr. Reagan got in, and we were on the same side again, he smilingly called the turn of events- “The Irish Revenge”.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that my view of RWR was tarnished somewhat by Iran-Contra.

John E. Reilly was, nonetheless, a  classic, unto himself.