FAY - Thomas J. Fay, Jr. In West Roxbury, Retired Captain, Brookline Fire Department; Veteran, U.S. Marine Corps., WWII, Sept. 20, 2009. Beloved husband of Catherine M. (Mikorzewski). Devoted father of Thomas M. and his wife Deborah J. Fay of Brookline, Kathleen D. and her husband David H. Dalzell of Norfolk, Carol A. Fay of Millis and the late Michael T. and Patricia M. Fay. Also survived by 8 grandchildren: Sean T., Kimberly G. and her husband Phil Boncher, Thomas M., Jr. (deceased), Kelly J., Michael J., Dianne C., Brian C., Elizabeth G., and Michael M. Brother of the late Grace E. Mahoney. A private family graveside service will be held on Friday Sept. 25th at Mt. Benedict Cemetery in West Roxbury, MA. In lieu of flowers, donations in Tom’s memory may be made to the Polycystic Kidney Disease Foundation, 9221 Ward Parkway, Suite 400, Kansas City, MO. 64114-3367 or the Wounded Warrior Project, 7020 A.C. Skinner Parkway, Suite 100, Jacksonville, FL 32256
“Semper Fi!” - The Few. The Proud. The Marines. Always Faithful. These are the words that embodied our dad, Thomas Joseph Fay, Jr. A simple, yet “colorful” character (as he would say), Tom was highly respected by his family, friends, and brothers of the Brookline Fire Department as a fair and honest man who always acted with courage in the line of duty.
Dad was loyal and proud of his loving and faithful family. Tom married Kitty on September 16, 1951. Life was not always easy for Mom and Dad. Through family illnesses and the deaths of two small children and one infant grandchild, Tom remained ever faithful and supportive of his wife, children and grandchildren. He led by example, always encouraging us to carry on through tough times with a “stiff upper lip.” He sometimes seemed to have a “rough” exterior, but was really an “old softie” deep down inside. Tom was extremely proud of his children and grandchildren’s accomplishments throughout the years, which he enjoyed bragging about (as his many friends can attest to). Dad encouraged his kids and grandkids to be “outgoing”, and enthusiastically followed the happenings in all of our lives.
Dad was loyal and proud of his Irish heritage. His grandparents immigrated to the United States from County Cork, settling in Brookline, MA. As kids we listened to many of Dad’s Irish ballads from his “eclectic” musical collection. And who can forget the soundtrack to “Finian’s Rainbow?”
Loyal and proud of his Brookline roots (forever a Brookline boy at heart), Dad maintained life-long friendships from childhood, the Marine Corps and the Fire Dept., as well as friends who shared his passion for sports and some of his other interests. Dad was well liked and well known around Brookline. He was a very sentimental man and saved every birthday and Father’s Day card from each one of us. He also proudly displayed his children and grandchildren’s artwork on the wall above his bedroom bureau and on the refrigerator door. As a teenager, Dad made scrapbooks of his favorite sports heroes and teams (which can still be found tucked away in boxes down cellar or up in the attic). He managed to smuggle his beloved “Brownie” camera overseas to capture snapshots of his Marine Corps days during WWII. Dad chronicled his life and family history, and his multiple scrapbooks and photo albums reflect his various life-long interests and hobbies.
Dad enjoyed telling all of us great stories about his happy childhood, funny visits to Nana’s family home in Wolfeboro, NH (city boy vs. country cousins), WWII days, and many memorable, but always humorous, anecdotes from the Fire Dept. Dad was especially “tickled pink” whenever he recanted a lively version of a story with extra embellishment for comedic effect, especially stories about all of the practical jokes and camaraderie that he fondly remembered from his days in the military and at the firehouse. We three kids, and our children, spent many late nights at the cottage, listening to Grandpa tell his tales. This sure made it difficult for the boys to go fishing at 5 AM the next morning (this, according to “Larry, his brother Darryl, and his other brother Darryl!”).
Staunch in his Roman Catholic Faith, Dad was very proud to have served as an altar boy at St. Lawrence Church in Chestnut Hill, MA. He bestowed on us his spirituality and his strong faith in God, good morals and important family values, just as his parents and grandparents had passed on to him.
Other characteristics that describe the essence of Dad include thoughtfulness (it was not unusual to come home from school to find your favorite comic strip or cross-word puzzle left on your bed, or to receive a musical, life-like turtle in the mail to keep your real pet turtle company), sympathy and compassion for others less fortunate, sacrifice, responsibility, strength (all those years as a Marine!), security (only buy what you can afford!) and honesty. In addition, Dad had a tremendous work ethic, holding multiple side jobs during his off duty days from the firehouse. He rarely ever missed a day of work. Dad made personal sacrifices for the benefit and happiness of his wife, his children and his grandchildren, ensuring they’d have a good life and be well taken care of. Despite financial and medical hardships in the early years with two sick children, Dad embodied a spirit of generosity and donated to numerous charities, organizations and religious affiliations throughout the years. He also valued discipline in order to teach his children right from wrong, to encourage good behavior and to enforce strong moral values. (“Now let that be a lesson for you, to always tell the truth!” - that is, if you were caught in a lie after accidentally breaking his favorite coffee mug and didn’t own up to it upon questioning!)
Dad valued education and took great pride in executing proper grammar, spelling, penmanship and writing. He enjoyed using his tri-multi-colored pens and ink stamp pads, and making his carbon paper copies back in the days before he finally discovered the Xerox machine at the library! He was a stickler for details! Most days Dad could be found fervently banging away on the keys of his old, black typewriter (a relic from college days), and if it tickled his fancy, he might even change to the red ink ribbon for a switch! In fact, Dad would take the time to send letters back to companies, correcting their grammatical errors and always scrutinizing every bank statement and bill for mistakes. More often than not, this would be followed up with an irate phone call! His accounting course at Boston University served him well over the years, as every bankbook was always balanced exactly to the penny. It was important for Dad to feel that he was in full control, and he wanted to stay involved in everything. You sure couldn’t slip much past Dad without him finding out about it! Dad always encouraged his children and grandchildren to work hard in school in order to pursue their dreams, as his main concern was always about others. He wanted all of us to have happy and successful lives, and he felt education was the beginning of that pathway. Dad attended B.U. business school for a few semesters, but was unable to complete his own degree, as he felt a calling to serve his country in WWII. After the war Dad achieved his ultimate dream of becoming a Brookline Firefighter!
Dad was brave, loyal, patriotic to the core, and proud to have served his country in the United States Marine Corps. As a Corporal Field Radio Operator and Rifleman, Dad spent most of his enlisted time in the South Pacific during the Occupation of China in WWII (stationed in Guam and Iwo Jima). Many years later Dad still remembered and enjoyed teaching us how to communicate in Morse code. (“S.O.S.” was a particular favorite!) In fact, his patriotic fever caused him to beg his parents for their consent so he could join the Marines underage. He did, much to their chagrin, as he was their only son. While in Guam, Dad was also the sports editor for the “Marines” newspaper. Throughout the years, Dad continued to keep in touch with WWII buddies. He was involved in, and maintained, life-long memberships in numerous veterans’ and other interesting organizations, such as the China Marine Association, the Elks, the V.F.W., the American Legion, the Knights of Columbus, and the Marine Corps Heritage Foundation. Dad also belonged to the Brookline Firefighter’s Association Local 950, the Fire Bell Club of New York, the FDNY Foundation, the International Association of Firefighters, as well as other small town N.H. library and historical societies and clubs. He was a member of the Mystic Valley Railway Society, the New Hampshire Railroad Revitalization Association, the Boston Braves Historical Society, Mothers Against Drunk Driving, and numerous other Firefighter organizations and publications, including the Box 52 Association, the Tapper Club, and the New York City Fire Museum. (We hope we haven’t missed any!)
Proud to have achieved Marksman status as a rifleman, Grandpa could be found years later kneeling beside his grandchildren, teaching them how to hold, aim, and shoot his childhood B-B gun at the tin cans, which he strategically placed on top of an old tree stump in the back yard of the cottage (much to the dismay of one grandson in particular, who afterwards, discovered a 1” high pile of cigar ashes balancing precariously on top of his ear!).
Passionate, loyal and proud to wear the uniform of Brookline Firefighter, Lieutenant, Captain, and sometimes Deputy Chief, one can never forget Dad’s well-attended retirement party in 1987 and his teary-eyed award acceptance speech, after almost 40 years of dedicated service! The “Cap” was very proud of his men from Ladder Co. 2. Dad was always an avid “Sparky” since childhood (two of his most admired uncles were firefighters). He could be found at home listening to multiple fire radios simultaneously, and saving every newspaper article clipping relating to fires, fellow firefighters and the happenings of various Fire Depts. throughout the country (thanks to regular correspondence with friends). Dad collected firefighter memorabilia and kept scrapbooks with news articles and photos taken throughout his career as a firefighter. After retiring, he continued watching news programs and reading all of his favorite daily newspapers and firefighter books and magazines. Dad enthusiastically enjoyed corresponding with friends and family on a regular basis and spent much time writing personal notes, clipping news articles, comics, cross-word puzzles, jokes and other things that he thought others would be interested in and enjoy as much as he did! Even while overseas in WWII, Dad continued to be an avid reader of his hometown newspaper, keeping up with current events and activities of friends at home in Brookline. And in his younger days, Dad enjoyed taking trips to attend annual fire conventions and visiting sports stadiums and museums in different parts of the country.
Dad was proud to be the youngest Fire Captain ever appointed in the town of Brookline. His bravery on the job was never openly spoken about at home, but quietly tucked away in the recesses of his own mind. It was only brought to light after his recent death, as we discovered old, yellowed newspaper articles from his tattered scrapbook, detailing his heroic services as a Brookline firefighter. Outside of work, Dad also came to the aid of a next-door neighbor whose husband suddenly collapsed one day. Dad rushed over to their yard and performed C.P.R. on his friend, then rode to the hospital with them in the back of the ambulance.
Some of Dad’s proudest moments in life included his wedding day, the birth of his children (he actually delivered one daughter at home, as she came a lot sooner than expected!), walking his daughter down the isle on her wedding day, watching his children and grandchildren grow up and graduate from college with highest honors, and seeing them pursue successful careers. Dad was especially proud when his son, following in his footsteps, became a Brookline Firefighter and EMT. Most recently, Grandpa was thrilled for his grandson who is now achieving his dream of becoming a Brookline police officer, like his great-grandfather before him! Grandpa was not one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but was always interested in everyone’s lives. He wanted happiness and the best for each and every one of his children and grandchildren.
On the more colorful side of things, Dad was asked upon his retirement to tell about his most memorable fire on the job. Dad recalled that his most memorable fire was fortunately not in Brookline, but in Lynn. It was known as the big Lynn Conflagration and took place early on Saturday morning, November 28, 1981. Brookline Engine 1 had responded at 3:18 AM and Engine 3 was sent at 4:14 AM. By 4:43 AM Captain Fay was told to respond to the fire with Ladder Company No. 2. Ladder 2 was a 1974 Peter Pirsch 100’ tractor-trailer Aerial Ladder Truck. As the fire crew approached the tollbooth on the Mystic River Bridge, Captain Fay’s driver told him that it looked like the collector had his hand out to collect a toll, and he asked, “What should I do?” Captain Fay responded, “Floor it! Let ‘em try and catch us!” Dad said he had just gotten a glimpse of the large glow in the sky as they hit the high spot on the bridge, and his adrenalin really started to bubble! He was not about to stop for anything! Dad described the fire as, ”Simply awesome! What a fire! What a night!” Dad and his crew were relieved the next morning, but Ladder 2 did not return until 9:10 PM that evening.
Dad was a proud and loyal Boston sports fan (or was it fanatic?) Go Patriots, Red Sox, and Bruins! He was the KING of multi-tasking! It was not at all unusual to find him watching three different sports games simultaneously, with the televisions lined up side-by-side or stacked up one on top of the other, all the while drinking a beer, smoking a cigar, reading the newspaper, and listening to the radio! Dad listened to every game and knew every score. According to Mom, Dad said that he always wanted to be a sports announcer if he hadn’t become a firefighter. Or, one might wonder, a job as a postal worker? You see, Dad loved to weigh all of his outgoing letters on the little postage scale that he kept on top of his desk, just to ensure proper postage. Dad sent and received so much mail that he became a friendly, frequent visitor to various post offices along his daily route. He could tell you all the different collection times for every mailbox around town, and he would send you exactly where you needed to go to get that important letter out by 5:00 PM. However, all niceties ended if the mail got “screwed up again” on the forwarding delivery date going to and from New Hampshire. That was Dad’s biggest PET PIEVE! And then there was the time when he accidentally checked the wrong box on the post office box renewal card and lost his beloved P. O. Box #41, after almost 40 years with the same NH address! What a TRAGEDY!
Dad enjoyed lots of hobbies, including an avid interest in railroad trains and listening to his eclectic collection of 8-track tapes on the old stereo (long after 8-track tapes were extinct!). Believe it or not, Dad finally joined the 21st century when he bought himself a portable CD player and CDs from his favorite mail-order catalogue! He enjoyed gospel music, Irish ballads, WWII and Big Band era music, and his all-time favorite, country music (has anyone else ever heard of “Box Car Willie”?).
Some of our best memories of Dad will be seeing him in his favorite chair watching Julia Child, the Galloping Gourmet, favorite crooners on the Lawrence Welk Show and tapping his feet to the music of Hee-Haw. And we can’t forget hearing Dad laugh at the antics of Barney Miller, F-Troop, McHale’s Navy, Gomer Pyle, Andy Griffith, M*A*S*H, and let’s never forget his all-time favorites, Archie and Edith Bunker (wonder why?) and Sandford & Son. British comedies on PBS were a nightly ritual with Dad, as well as the Johnny Carson Show and late night viewing of the Benny Hill show. Public television travel shows, documenting cross-country railroad journeys, and Chronicle specials about the Lakes Region and the White Mountains were particular favorites of Dad, followed closely by reruns of Seinfeld (which, by the way, he only recently discovered, never realizing that the show’s been off the air for about ten years!).
With Dad it was always a fun treat to go to Captain Blastoff’s arcade or to get an ice cream cone at Millstream, after taking a short excursion over to Alexandria to watch the cows! (Look out for those meadow muffins!) Being one of Dad’s pint-sized helpers to plant seedlings in his vegetable garden, hang the outside Christmas lights, put up the life-size, lit up, waving Santa, or hold tools for him as he did odd jobs around the house, always made us feel very special.
Dad loved to grow his own prized tomato plants in the summer and had a friendly, yet competitive, relationship with his next-door neighbor (whose plants Dad also took it upon himself to water each day when his neighbor was away!). A few summers ago as Dad was gazing out the window one day, he spotted a practically State Fair-worthy, single, red, ripe, beautiful and perfectly shaped tomato that stuck out from all the other green ones on his plant. His excitement was short-lived, however, upon further investigation. His hopes were dashed when he spied a little white string tied in a bow, attaching the perfect tomato to the branch (thanks to his friendly neighbor!). Dad got the biggest kick out of that, and we heard about it all summer long. Dad always loved a good practical joke, especially if it was played on him!
Dad enjoyed puzzles, playing card games and checkers with his grandkids, putting training wheels on bikes, and later teaching us how to ride two-wheelers on our own. He used to take us sledding and ice skating, as well as trips to the annual Fireman’s Brigade and Carnival. He loved the foot-long hot dogs and French fries at the fair. And let’s not forget Dad rocking the seat car whenever we’d get stuck with him at the top of the Ferris wheel! How scary for us, but how he loved it!
We’ll always remember one summer when Dad meticulously made plaster impressions of big cat footprints. He then researched every animal track known to man at the library in order to prove that a mountain lion had actually ventured down Mt. Celo and left his muddy footprints next to our cottage. We will also remember his leaf burning fire barrels and homemade compost piles that were staples in our back yard. And we will always see Dad chopping wood for the old woodstove to keep us warm at night, picking up twigs on the lawn and raking leaves from “Birch Haven”, wearing his big hat with the attached mosquito netting (and forgetting that the netting was there when he needed to spit!) And, it was always a rare treat when Dad would go swimming with us at the Town Beach because his Irish skin got sunburned so easily. So, after a galloping jot at full speed across the hot sand, and taking a plunging dive into the lake, Dad played the shark that snuck up from behind and grabbed our legs. And afterwards, it was great fun jumping off his shoulders into the water below.
As small children, Dad would give us piggyback rides up the stairs before tucking us into bed. As we got older, he especially enjoyed entertaining his kids and grandkids with the dreaded “claw”, a clamp-like vice grip to our ticklish lower thighs (when we weren’t paying attention, followed by loud shrieks and hysterical laughter!). And then there was the glowing red ember of the “Boogie Man’s” cigar tip, trying to catch us in a hide and seek game in the pitch dark of a friend’s basement (the good thing was, we always knew where he was and could see him coming!).
Dad loved spending time with us on vacations, especially “up country”. He enjoyed taking us on road trips in his younger days to visit other states, always documenting with photos and home movies. He also liked to take us on day trips to Ruggles Mine, Polar Caves, Story Land, Santa’s Village, Clark’s Trading Post, and hiking up Round Top to see the beautiful view. Dad loved watching the kids and grandkids ride down the sidewalk on Eliot St. in the circa 1950’s push-pedal, little red fire truck. In later years, he watched the kids ride around Eliot and Kelly Parks and race full speed up and down Mt.Celo Road in the bright, lime green, 2-seater, gasoline-powered go-cart that he bought for us. (This was lots of fun, except for getting spattered with a little dog dew from time to time!)
Dad was famous for sending us corny jokes in the mail, and serenading us with renditions of “Who stuck the gum to the bedpost overnight?” He loved to tell us tales of “Fat and Skinny had a race, up and down the pillow case…”, and he would often recite the ever popular antics of “Woody Woodchuck” in “How much wood would a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck, could chuck, wood?” And finally, there was Dad’s all-time favorite story of “Oowey Goowey was a worm, a goowey worm was he, one day upon the railroad tracks, a train he failed to see…OOOWEY GOOOWEY!”
But most of all, Dad enjoyed spending 40+ years with us going “up for the summer” to the cottage in NH. Dad fondly recalled his joyful childhood visiting his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins in Wolfeboro, on Lake Winnipesauke. His extended family was always dear to his heart. It was important to Dad to teach us about our family roots. He often told stories about his jovial grandfather, John J. McHugh, whom he greatly admired and was very proud of. Dad often said, “John McHugh was a real character who never backed down from anything!” His grandfather was a well-known, respected man about town, as well as a successful, self-made businessman. He owned his own plumbing company (back in the days of horse and carriage), built his own home, and raised 13 children there.
As we got older, we learned that Dad spent many late night Christmas Eves at his workbench down cellar, staying up all night assembling our new bikes and toys for Christmas morning! And we will never forget his fake pine scented sprays and his diligent tending to the glowing Christmas candles on top of the TV, next to Mom’s little ceramic Christmas tree. And we can’t leave out his annual holiday Pepperidge Farms nutty cheese ball, or his meticulous way of untangling every set of Christmas lights before we were able to decorate the tree.
Dad enjoyed reading the newspaper for himself and for all, always thinking of family and friends whenever scouring his high pile of newspapers and magazines on the footstool. In case you missed an article or a joke that was sent his way, “Don’t sweat it.” Just check your mailbox in a few days. The article or joke would appear from various funny characters listed on the return address labels.
Quirky and eccentric in his own ways, “Father Fay”, as we affectionately called him, (or “Retired Old Fart” and “World’s Largest Source of Natural Gas”, as his coffee mugs and t-shirts boasted so well) adopted particular phrases that became synonymous with him and his way of life: “Don’t smoke in bed, make love instead!” (wait - did Dad actually say that?), “Of Course!”, “Etcetera, Etcetera”, “Natch” (naturally!), “Don’t sweat it,” “Everything in moderation,” “To each his own,” and “To make a long story short” (which in reality, we all knew that his story was NEVER short!). However, the best nickname for Dad was “World’s Greatest Grandpa” as expressed on the multiple plaques he received as gifts from his young grandchildren, which still hang on the walls of the cottage after all these years.
One time in NH Dad built a wooden playhouse beside a tree in the back yard. We had lots of fun holding make-believe tea parties and decorating the windows with real cloth curtains that were hung up with thumbtacks. All was going well, except when an infestation of Daddy Long Legs set in, seeing the playhouse was built right next to the woodpile. And then there were other times when Dad, watching from the cottage window, asked us if the fish were biting. We hoped so, as we sat beside the brook, swatting mosquitoes and holding homemade fishing poles that Dad helped us make out of twigs and string. (We were too young to realize that it helped to have a hook on the end of the line, and that there were absolutely no fish in the brook!) We also had lots of fun spinning on the tire swing that Dad hung from the big birch tree beside the cottage. And best of all, let’s not forget pulling the chain to ring the old fashioned fire bell on the back of the bathroom door, while waiting your turn to use the usually occupied “Captain’s Quarters!” Childhood visits to the fire house to see Dad were always exciting, too, and we dressed up in his firefighting gear, sat in the fire trucks, and got to slide down the big brass pole (if we so dared).
A visit to our house might reveal a long, forgotten cigar butt balanced delicately and precariously on the bottom ledge of our mailbox. Always thrifty, Grandpa could be found inside meticulously glue-sticking un-cancelled, and thus, still usable stamps to his ever-growing daily outgoing pile of mail. He also recycled used envelopes and scrap paper for future use, and was in the habit of reheating his (exactly 5) French fries and other food for supper at 11:30 PM in two pans, stacked one on top of the other, cooking on just one stove burner, in order to save gas and electricity! The list goes on and on! How about the time Grandpa spent searching the house in much dismay looking for his most comfy, well-worn (falling apart at the seams) favorite pair of wool-lined slippers, all the while muttering in an exasperated tone of voice, “Where the H*LL are those G*D - D*M slippers?” Only to be gently reminded that he was ALREADY WEARING THEM! (Grandpa’s slippers were being held together on his feet by a couple of worn-out, limp, but recycled, elastic bands. Pretty clever!)
Dad loved giving and receiving nick names. To his family and friends, he was known as Hi-Oh, or Zemo (the nickname he picked up in childhood). Then there were the names he affectionately bestowed upon others, like “Hoss”, “Urr–Ahh”, “Horatio Horn Blower”, and his all-time favorite greeting for some of his closest friends, “Hey, Ballzac!”
Dad was proud as a peacock of his one (and only) acting debut, or shall we say, (less than) 15 minutes of fame in the 1970’s. He actually made a television commercial at the firehouse to plug RCA TVs. His picture also appeared in a magazine ad. Dad made the following line famous in the Fay household, “…and we love it, too!” A long acting career never followed, however, as the commercial only aired one night! Ever the loyal customer, though, Dad stayed with the RCA brand long afterwards, ignoring newer brands and technologies that came along. Speaking of loyal customers, Dad loved his Volvos, too! If the truth be told, Dad actually played “match-maker” at the Volvo dealership, and the rest, as they say, is history!
Dad befriended people wherever he went. Even at the Clark House, where he was a patient for a couple of brief stays, he became buddies with the maintenance man, who happened to come into his room one day to repair a television. On subsequent stays, the gentleman always inquired about Dad, even stopping by this time to say hello on one of Dad’s final days there. Dad was able to give him a big smile.
Ever the eternal procrastinator, Dad hung on long enough to celebrate his 58th wedding anniversary with Mom, his “true love”, at the Clark House on September 16th. We were all together at his bedside, with Mom in a wheelchair. (She’s there receiving rehab, following emergency surgery two weeks ago.) In fact, Mom and Dad made it into the Clark House newsletter this month. (Maybe Dad finally did get his 15 minutes of fame after all!)
What heroism Dad displayed in his final days of failing health. And through the toughest of moments, all Dad wanted to know was, “How was Mom?”
Dad was a simple, caring, honest man who was forever loyal and proud of his family! From early on he lived by a strict code of ethics, morals and family values. He taught by example in quiet ways. Dad demonstrated his love, caring, kindness and concern not only for his parents, but also for his wife, his children and grandchildren, and for other human beings as well.
Dad, we are eternally grateful for all that you have done for us! You were a great teacher, and we will strive to continue to teach our own children, as you would expect us to do.
You often said that aside from losing two small children and an infant grandson, you had a very good life. You felt it was the Grace of God that helped you survive WWII and keep you safe over the course of a long career as a Brookline Firefighter. For that, we are also so very grateful!
Dad, Grandpa, and loyal Husband of 58 years, THANKS for your love, your guidance and support, your concern, your advice, your patience, your funny stories, and your loyalty! And THANKS for always encouraging us and for being so proud of us all through these years! We will forever cherish you in our hearts and in our souls! THANKS for all the amazing MEMORIES and wonderful LAUGHTER! As the Irish prayer goes, “May the road rise up to meet you, and the wind be forever at your back…!” So, until we meet again, Dad, Semper Fi!