1. I needed to put some miles on Sube II after the brake work was done in preparation for the wheels' lug nuts to be retorqued. I stayed off of I-90. Instead, I drove on the old roads between Kellogg and Smelterville and Smelterville and Pinehurst and did a little touring around Pinehurst. All in all, I drove close to thirty-five miles and when I arrived at Silver Valley Tire, one of their employees immediately retorqued the lug nuts. The Deke will return to Eugene with the Sube II having fresh oil, new brakes in the rear, and lug nuts torqued to the manufacturer's specifications. This puts my mind at ease.
2. Stu swung by and we went uptown to St. Rita's Catholic Church to attend the memorial mass for Ray and Mary Rae Faraca. The Faracas had lived in Kellogg for over sixty years. They'd both taught and Ray had coached countless students in their long careers at Kellogg High School. They were regular and active members of the St. Rita's parish. No wonder, then, that the church was packed with people paying their last respects. Father Jerome Montez gave a beautiful liturgy, with readings from the Bible often used at weddings, as if to say that as Ray and Mary Rae have passed from this world, they are wedded once again in their journey into eternity.
Two of the Faraca sons, Tony and Guy, gave eulogies. Tony helped us remember Mary Rae's devotion to the theatrical arts, to classroom rigor, and to propriety and good manners. I especially enjoyed Tony's story about when Mary Rae took Guy and Tony to New York City to see the sites, attend three productions on Broadway, and take in a baseball game at Yankee Stadium. Guy recalled his father's many years of coaching, the ways he inspired football players and track athletes to perform at their best. Ray was also a hard worker. Not only did he teach biology and coach two sports, but he worked summers for the City of Kellogg. I remember when I played games at Teeters Field from 1967-72, Ray was always the employee who dragged the field and put down the baselines and the batters' boxes.
3. Following the service, we were all invited to a potluck buffet in the Fellowship Hall. Since moving back to Kellogg, I have had this experience from time to time when my life in my hometown flashes before my eyes. I saw and talked with former high schoolers like Tom Tierney and Kim Berg. I talked for a few minutes with Barbara Absec. She has lived a half a block away in the house next to the Faracas' house since at least 1962, the year our family moved into this neighborhood. I yakked with Mayo Rinaldi and he told the story of how this year he went to his parents' house to take down the Christmas tree because last year his dad brought a chain saw in the house and cut it down. I saw my basketball coach from my sophomore and junior years. Toward the end of the service, I heard George White read an inspirational passage in honor of Ray Faraca's work as a coach. I saw any number of people I recognized and had some history with, but didn't get to visit with.
And then there was the food. I'd half forgotten church potluck buffets, featuring fried and baked chicken, baked beans, rolls, and a generous assortment of salads -- macaroni, potato, and green. It had been years since I drank from a church punch bowl. Even though I passed on eating dessert, I saw the familiar pieces of sheet cake laid out on the kitchen counter.
This all affected me pretty deeply and tired me out. I elected not to go uptown to the Lounge in the late afternoon or early evening, but put on my night clothes, napped some, did some reading, and let the power of this day sink in.
No comments:
Post a Comment