Sometimes as I paint, nothing fancy just number painting, I listen to the radio. Now I wonder, if anyone except when they’re driving, ‘listens to the radio’. There must be some of us that still do since they still have lots of advertising. One of the advertisements that always bring a smile to my face is by lawyers. The way some of them talk it is the biggest mistake in your life if you need a lawyer and don’t hire them. The ads remind me of my own experience for allegedly advertising and being brought before the ethics committee of the Pennsylvania Bar Association for it. You see when I was practicing law back in the 60’s through the 90’s advertising was prohibited. We were ‘professionals’ and they don’t advertise…so said the bar associations then. Another attorney charged me with doing so because I was writing a column in a weekly newspaper. The newspaper was a community weekly called “Northeast Times”. I forget how I got to know the editor or came to start writing the column but some how I did. The column was called the “Foxchase Lawyer” since I lived and practiced in the area of Philadelphia that was called that. I wasn’t paid for writing it. I didn’t add my name to the end of article and how anyone knew it was I took some digging. The articles were mostly about constitutional questions and never offered any advice as to handle any legal problem. The hearing was brief and decision quick. I was not violating the code of ethics with the column.
Today with billboards, radio, TV, the phone book, and newspaper lawyers advertise just like any other merchandisers. I have heard that some spend as much as a million dollars just on that aspect of their practice!
Listening to the radio reminds me of our family sitting around the big Zenith in the parlor (never called it a living room) listening in the early ’40. The Zenith was cabinet size, about three feet tall and a foot and half wide. It was the only radio in the house as I recall. It sat in the corner of the parlor on the right hand side. It was in a niche between the fireplace in the middle of the wall on the right and the wall separating the room from the rest of the house. The reason I suppose the front room of our house was called a ‘parlor’ is that we only used it for this radio listening and for wakes. The room had two windows facing you as you entered and through them you could see the front porch, our piece of green, the iron fence and then the street, Baltimore Avenue. To the left of the windows as you entered you could see a grandfather clock sitting in that corner. It was shining black with a glass panel in the front so you could see the pendulums moving. It had a gold and white face with black hands. It had something like a small fence that covered the front and sides of the top. As I recall it only rang on the hour.
We would, whoever was home, sit in front of the Zenith on Sunday nights and listen to Msgr. Fulton J. Sheen. I recall too coming home from grade school and finding my Mom and Catherine, our nanny, cook, bottle washer, cleaner, etc. sitting in front of the radio listening to “Stella Dallas” a soap of those days and once in a while “Grand Central Station” another.
Another memory I have of our home on Baltimore Avenue is the room where we met most of the times when we were in the house, the kitchen/dining area. It was a large room, as wide as the house itself- maybe about 25 feet. A table that ran from wall to wall took up most of the room. On the one wall was a sink and on the other a large window. This is where all our meals were taken. I don’t ever remember eating in the ‘dining room’ which was the room between the kitchen/dining area and the parlor. Whenever Dad was home for dinner, we would go into the dining room and pray the rosary. There was a kneeler before a cabinet on which there was a crucifix. We did this on our knees unless we had some physical ailment that excused us.
I remember after dinner one evening listening to my brother Dick, the second oldest, and my dad discussing Dorothy Day. She was an active social reformer, founder of the “Catholic Worker” and worked with the poor in New York City. They also had a farm they operated in upstate New York. My mom and dad had met her and were helping her in her projects. They visited her when she came to Philadelphia soliciting help. She was then being called a ‘communist’ because of her objecting to the state not helping those most in need. I remember Dick repeating this accusation and my Dad telling him it was all political nonsense. Recently, I read where Dorothy Day is being considered for canonization in the Roman Catholic Church. So I could brag my Dad knew a Saint, but I can already brag since my Mom, whether canonized or not, was a ‘saint’.
My memory of when this conversation between my brother Dick and Dad occurred is uncertain. The Japanese in the Philippine Islands had imprisoned Dick and my brother Frank. So it could have been after that in 1945 or so when Dick was released and returned to U.S. But then I know he was very busy on his return to America since the years of interment had interrupted his course of study for the priesthood. He was ordained in 1948. Dick had been assigned three years of teaching in the Islands and then would return to continue his studies in Theology. However the imprisonment and war made that a longer time. So I think that his chat was before he went to the Philippines. Another memory of that chat was he called Dorothy Day a ‘pacifist’. He used the term in a derogatory manner and it is a bit of irony that later in his life he became an avid ‘pacifist’
All of my brothers, except Pat, at one time or another were in the Philippine Islands. Frank went there as a missionary in 1939. Jim did the same in 1949. John was there in the Marines and was a gunner on a Douglas dive-bomber. He was shot down in the lower area of the Islands while on a mission to search out any remaining Japanese hiding in various places. He almost lost his leg. But thanks to the intervention of his brother Frank, when John was brought to Manila for treatment, the leg was not amputated. Joe while in the Navy aboard a Destroyer Escort was anchored for a time in Manila Bay. I went to the Philippines and then to the Sulu Islands with my sister Marge to attend the funeral for my brother Frank in 1970. Frank spent sixteen years in the Sulu Island preaching Christianity. It was initially just a mission but eventually the area became a Vicariate and then a Diocese. He became their bishop. The majority of the people were Moslems. In the schools he had built the children attending could be excused to go outside during classes and pray, as was the Moslem custom. This he did before Vatican II and the ecumenical movement it encouraged. He established clinics and had seaside services for the many wandering seamen that only occasionally visited shore. After his death in 1970 there was a large gap in time, maybe seven or eight years before a new leader was appointed. In the meantime the Moslems were over taken by the extreme sect of their religion. By the early nineties the islands were completely controlled by them. The cathedral built by Frank and where they laid his body was destroyed. I can hear him up there in heaven growling, as he often did, about the incompetence of the leadership which caused this loss.
The Internet produces some of the most amazing things! I mentioned in the past in these writings about a daughter of a client of mine in the sixties found me by searching the net. She searched for her family name Perpiglia. I had mentioned in one of the jottings representing Tony Perpiglia. Since the year 2000 thanks to my son-in-law Tom Baker the jottings have been placed on the net on the McSorley.org web page along with other items. Thus the daughter searching found the name and with my story of representing him. She contacted me and we did have some exchange of emails.
Well, another such phenomenon recently occurred. I received and email from an old friend and adopted cousin, Charlie “Fuzz” McSorley. He got the name Fuzz from being a narcotic officer for at least 20 years in Philadelphia. He sent me a web page address that he said was all about ‘Paul McSorley’! I went to the page www.News3Online.com. And the lead story and video on it was “Paul McSorley Phenomenon” It stated he was running for President in 2008, In one scene the commentator ask a lady passing on the street with another, whom she was going to vote for in the elections. She turned away from the camera and lifted her blouse and just above her waist was a tattoo reading “Vote for Paul McSorley in 2008!” The commentator, taking note of the placement of the tattoo, went on to say the phenomenon was that of Paul McSorley “coming up from the rear” in this election. It is frightening to both Democrats and Republicans because of the possibility of his winning. I can assure you I am not that Paul McSorley nor have I really heard of any such “phenomenon” happening. I ran once for an office and lost so my ambition was put to rest. Speaking of the election of 2008 reminds me that I received from a former client, and still friend, Nancy Carroll, an Obama button which is green has a shamrock in a circle near the top of the pin, and below it in big white letters “O’BAMA”. Like most Irish politicians they are always ready to adopt a potential winner. Until next time, Pax Tecum!