September 1, 1915 to February 21, 2003

In the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks, we heard a lot of talk about heroes. Our father, too, stood as a hero, a "quiet" hero. He didn't get the headlines, and he didn't seek them. In his own way, though, he was as courageous as any, surviving the depression and fighting a world war. More importantly, though, he cared for his wife during the last years of her life, day and night, seven days a week, with gentleness and love.

Tom was a proud, hardworking man (and yes, stubborn, too) who loved his wife, family, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and church. When I was in the first or second grade, my grandmother told me that when Dad was my age, she hated to go to church and leave him alone. Not that he misbehaved, far from it. She said that when she was gone, he took apart all the clocks in the house, and he cleaned and oiled each one. Every time she came home he was covered from head to toe with oil. The family, though, had the most precise clocks on the block!

Dad's been fixing things ever since, whether it be the family's cars, the plumbing, electrical fixtures, or clocks. Like most men of his generation, he wasn't one who showed his emotions easily. What he lacked in "showing," though, he more than made up for in "doing." A summer visit to his sons' homes often became a time for various projects, showing his love in his detailed attention to these. He loved ham and beans, crossword puzzles, the Latin Mass, singing in the choir, and just "puttering" around the garage, forever gathering nuts and bolts into well-marked cans. Above all else, he loved his wife of 58 years-Kathleen-and the spirit just seemed to go out of him when she passed away.

Tom Casserly was a good man. Nothing more need be said.