Ode to a Friendship
See you wherever we land
Thinking about Joseph Francis McKenna.
We met as kids at the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The parish was established in 1875. We attended almost a century later. Joe recalled that when seated in alphabetical order, we Micks formed a pod. He and Tim Rice and I were always buddies hanging out on the “playground” that was a parking lot in front of the church and school where there was nothing to do but stand around and talk. The actual playground with swings and monkey bars back by the graveyard was reserved for younger kids. All I remember is laughing, like our job was to crack each other up.
My siblings and parents knew Joe’s siblings and parents from church and school. Mr. & Mrs. McKenna had a romantic Hollywood movie-type story we all knew and retold like a legend. He was blinded in World War II, dashingly handsome even with the scars. She was one of his rehab nurses. They owned a Marian Shop stocked with Holy cards and statues and medals and rosaries with an emphasis on the Virgin Mary. When the shop struggled, Mr. McKenna took a job at the courthouse in downtown Minneapolis, ringing up candy bars and pop at the snack bar. I asked once if the petty criminals standing trial tried to pass off one dollar bills as fivers. The rumor was that Mr. McKenna could feel the difference in value like a weight. Joe said he thought the…
