Author Archives: jimholleran29

     A few weeks after my aunt, Helen Ann Maxwell Murphy, had joined seven of her 12 brothers and sisters in heaven, her daughter Rosemary and I were conducting our post-mortem on the wake, the funeral, my eulogy, her family and the estate.    Rosemary and her siblings had followed their mother’s wishes and arrangedContinue reading “Old Irish tradition of wakes at home becomes a rare rite”

   There’s an old cliché about coincidences – “It’s a small, small world.’’    I get that. Everywhere I go lately, I run into the Shea family. It started in the 1973 with The Journal sports editor Dave Shea covering occasional basketball and baseball games. There were intermittent sightings of his brothers, John and Pete,Continue reading “World just got a little smaller: Everywhere, there is a Shea”

    I’ve driven through Penfield, N.Y.; Doylestown, Ohio; Reading, Pa.; Old Forge, N.Y., and Newport, N.Y., in the past month. I’ve driven from Utica to Morristown on Route 12. I’ve crossed St. Lawrence County on Route 37. I traveled on Route 11 to Malone and onto Plattsburgh along the Military Turnpike.      I’ve watched allContinue reading “Dashboard Jesus would cringe at redlight and stop sign habits”

    You can learn a lot about humankind simply by attending a church rummage sale.   There are rich widows, poor single moms, veterans in Korean War ballcaps, conspiracy theorists, infirm couples, giving people, inventive minds and compassionate volunteers. You’ll find home décor treasures, rare magazines, funky clothes, inexpensive furniture and mostly steals and deals.Continue reading “Church rummage sale offers plenty of steals and deals; people watching is free”

My comeback as a deliveryman of free beds was about an hour old when a 3-year-old cherub waved me into her living room and directed me toward the stairs.    Her eyes seemed as wide as saucers and her curly hair bobbed with each jerk of her head as she issued commands. I imagined sheContinue reading “Delivering free children’s beds offers lessons in hope, kindness”

       I only work once a month at my church supper program, but last week’s volunteer shift left me wondering – What happens when the Earth’s angels become frustrated? What if they went on strike? Or worse, quit?        I’m not talking cherubim and seraphim. I’m not imagining some kind of Roma Downey or DellaContinue reading “What chaos would happen if Earth’s angels got fed up?”

You never know what you’re going to encounter in my neighborhood. Some days it is as tranquil as Vic Damone singing “On the Street Where You Live.’’ Other days, all I can think of is Green Day grinding through “Boulevard of Broken Dreams.’’       At the end of the cul de sac, the folks weContinue reading “There’s nowhere else on earth I’d rather be than on the streets where I live”

  When I first began writing for Dave Shea’s sports website in March 2021, which morphed into this Journal gig, I dubbed this column “Reflections of a River Rat.’’ I figured it gave a Thousand Islands exile, living in suburban Rochester, some street cred in St. Lawrence County.     Then I wondered if I wasContinue reading “River Rat, or living in a van down by the St. Lawrence?”

When the three of us piled in the minivan on Friday morning, we headed to the Great New York State Fair. Six years had passed between treks to Syracuse for Mary and me; for our friend Michelle it had been 36.   We weren’t traveling to see the butter sculpture, hold our noses in theContinue reading “We laughed through state fair, but didn’t Wang Chung tonight”

    Jeff Johnson, married father of five, plays golf once a week, runs in a two-season basketball league, volunteers for the Brier Hill Fire Department, makes ambulance runs to Albany, Vermont and Syracuse, and works full-time as an emergency management officer for Fort Drum.    His busy schedule and resume would not be complete unlessContinue reading “Hoops? Golf? St. Lawrence River diver prefers water hazards 100 feet down”