Walt. You’ve been so much on my mind, always on my heart. Today, May 30 marks 10 years since you departed this earth. My first thought was to write about the overwhelming sadness of your sudden, unexpected passing; the shock, the despair, the anguish I felt when Mother told me you had a massive heart attack, and didn’t survive . And how like Mama to comfort me, when her heart was shattered in a million pieces . Of the deep sorrow, and anguish both our parents felt. And so, too , your many friends and family. But then images , and memories of you at 10 years old began to swirl around in my head. And I smiled thinking of that time . So dapper and darling were you , even then.
Dad was getting ready to relocate to St. Louis , and Mom, you and I lived on Heliotrope Ave. , next door to the fabulous , faithful , large , joyous MacInnis family ; fellow parishioners at
St. Rose of Lima, such a delight they were ! You and Brian particularly had fun playing together . And across the rail tracks, Don Wagner’s 5 for a Dollar Hamburger stand- the best Burgers in town (Susan Wagner and I were friends since early grade school , and remain the dearest of friends to this day).
Two years prior , when we first moved to Heliotrope from our more sheltered SouthHall Lane Cul de sac duplex in Bell , and the train come roaring through our first night there , you jumped out of bed and ran into Mother’s bedroom crying out , “Mama, is it the Russians ? Are they coming?” A cute, funny story now, but then, when Drop and Cover drills at school were the norm , pretty scary for a little boy. Thankfully, Mama was there to reassure, and gather you in her arms.
I think about my brother , Walt and his best friend, Tony Moore. Tony was two years older than
Walt , and like an older brother to him. They enjoyed each other’s company; riding bikes , talking boy talk, laughing, playing at Bell Park, going to movies at the Alcazar , wrestling in our front yard. When Tony got a new surf board for Christmas that year, they shared their first surfing adventure. But mostly, they spent hours together working on, and racing their slot cars. Every Saturday, come rain or shine, Mother would drive Walt and Tony to South Gate, another bedroom community not to far from where we lived, to the slot car track on Atlantic Blvd. There two young boys shared many happy hours racing , tuning up and adjusting the mechanics of their cars to make them go faster. I think Walt’s future car hobby, and admiration of muscle cars stemmed from his early love of Slot car racing. Walt kept those cherished Slot cars all through the years , with Mom . At different times Mom would ask him if he wanted to take them. Walt would always reply, ‘No, Mom, I don’t want anything to happen to them, they’re safest with you’. And now, my brother’s slot cars, once so special to him are still here in our Mother’s/my house. Special to me.
Five years later, when Walt was 15, it would be the first , but not last time my brother would be Pallbearer for someone he loved very much . Tony was only 17 when he died of a Brain tumor.
I don’t have a hard time imagining Walt and Tony together again , laughing and talking and being happy in each other’s company. Maybe even racing their slot cars.
Walter Rod Cooney Rip +
Anthony Edward Moore Rip +
St. Rose of Lima, such a delight they were ! You and Brian particularly had fun playing together . And across the rail tracks, Don Wagner’s 5 for a Dollar Hamburger stand- the best Burgers in town (Susan Wagner and I were friends since early grade school , and remain the dearest of friends to this day).
Two years prior , when we first moved to Heliotrope from our more sheltered SouthHall Lane Cul de sac duplex in Bell , and the train come roaring through our first night there , you jumped out of bed and ran into Mother’s bedroom crying out , “Mama, is it the Russians ? Are they coming?” A cute, funny story now, but then, when Drop and Cover drills at school were the norm , pretty scary for a little boy. Thankfully, Mama was there to reassure, and gather you in her arms.
Walt , and like an older brother to him. They enjoyed each other’s company; riding bikes , talking boy talk, laughing, playing at Bell Park, going to movies at the Alcazar , wrestling in our front yard. When Tony got a new surf board for Christmas that year, they shared their first surfing adventure. But mostly, they spent hours together working on, and racing their slot cars. Every Saturday, come rain or shine, Mother would drive Walt and Tony to South Gate, another bedroom community not to far from where we lived, to the slot car track on Atlantic Blvd. There two young boys shared many happy hours racing , tuning up and adjusting the mechanics of their cars to make them go faster. I think Walt’s future car hobby, and admiration of muscle cars stemmed from his early love of Slot car racing. Walt kept those cherished Slot cars all through the years , with Mom . At different times Mom would ask him if he wanted to take them. Walt would always reply, ‘No, Mom, I don’t want anything to happen to them, they’re safest with you’. And now, my brother’s slot cars, once so special to him are still here in our Mother’s/my house. Special to me.
Five years later, when Walt was 15, it would be the first , but not last time my brother would be Pallbearer for someone he loved very much . Tony was only 17 when he died of a Brain tumor.
I don’t have a hard time imagining Walt and Tony together again , laughing and talking and being happy in each other’s company. Maybe even racing their slot cars.
Walter Rod Cooney Rip +
Anthony Edward Moore Rip +
