A Friend Gone, but not forgotten..and Cole Hamels

Have you ever had a friend that you wanted to hug and strangle within seconds of each other.  Usually, it was a hug..Sigh, that was my friend John McGarry.  I know that I am part of a huge community of his friends, and this month is the third anniversary of his passing.  John died suddenly of a heart attack during a Sunday brunch at Parc.  He held court at Parc, and well, when I feel like having a few glasses of wine or a Kir Royale, warm shrimp salad and look at the Fabulous Philadelphians this is where I go to do it.  Usually with at least one girlfriend, often two or more. Below is th every tasty Kir Royale I had on picture perfect Friday afternoon with my gal pal, Maren.  Seriously, it was delicious.

I sat in just about the same spot the day after John's funeral that hot July morning, a few of us gathered to toast our dear friend who made us laugh, smile and sometimes rip our hair out.  Of course, I knew John was looking down on me that day, because as I sat there with my huge Ray-Bans on, concealing my puffy eyes, a vision of beauty strolled by. Cole Hamels.. Sweet Jesus that man is beautiful..he was walking this little white dog, which did not add to the manliness factor, but I knew that John was laughing his ass off in heaven as Barbara and I blatantly ignored our other table guests and ogled at him.. I love you John...

Oh dear lord, my middle aged heart is going pitter patter...wait, this is supposed to be a story about my friend John...how did I so digress?  John would've wanted me to digress..

Back to John, as you can see from the picture below - he was quite the good looking man, always had on an impeccable suit - and often was seen with a cigar.

 
Below is the obituary that was published - it truly captures his essence.  Perhaps you read it when it was published three years ago, if you haven't or wish to again - go ahead - its full of his good deeds..and there were many.



John J. McGarry, real estate professional and coach
By Kia Gregory
Inquirer Staff Writer

John J. McGarry, 59, of Philadelphia, a real-estate professional known throughout the city for his can-do spirit, his passion for helping others, and his longtime volunteer work as a basketball coach, died Sunday of heart failure.
Mr. McGarry, who lived in Center City, was the director of real estate brokerage at the University of Pennsylvania, where he was instrumental in revitalizing West Philadelphia. For more than 20 years, he also was a coach and mentor in the Sonny Hill League, helping youths from some of the city's most battered neighborhoods.


"A million kids go through the Sonny Hill League," said Bruiser Flint, head basketball coach at Drexel University, "and John tried to help them. He looked after a lot of guys."


"He'd find out a player wasn't eating, going to school, or needed clothes," said John Harnett, a Sonny Hill coach. "A lot of times, there weren't any parents for him to go to, so John involved the community, the church, and helped these kids. He helped people who had fallen on the rough side of life."


"There are so many people he made sure they graduated high school, went to college, whatever their dreams were," longtime friend Neil Rodin said. "He was 'the rock' for so many people."


One was his adopted son, Tyrone Weeks, who was 14 when he met Mr. McGarry.


"I was kind of raising myself," said Weeks, now 35. His mother was addicted to drugs; his father was long gone.


"I grew not knowing what it was like to have a relationship with my real father," said Weeks, who played basketball at the University of Massachusetts, graduated in 1997, and is now an assistant coach at Marist College.


Dylan McGarry praised his father's ability to reach across lines regardless of race or economics. "He lived for being able to make people happy," he said.


Known for his contagious smile and booming voice, Mr. McGarry was a keen observer of politics and community relations and a go-to guy at Penn.


After 20 years of working in various real estate development positions, Mr. McGarry joined Penn in 1998, working in property management. In 2002, he became Penn's director of real estate brokerage.


"Everybody had John on speed dial," said Wendy White, Penn's general counsel. "He was the sort of person to say, 'John, I need . . .,' and he would get it done."


He also was the sort of person, White said, to shout "I love you" from the across the street when he spotted colleagues on campus.


White called Mr. McGarry "critical to the West Philadelphia story" for his work with residential and commercial redevelopment projects. "He made sure the city was doing what we needed and that the community was participating," she said.


Former colleague Omar Blaik noted how Mr. McGarry knew everyone in the Penn community, from the flower-shop owner to the corner falafel-stand vendor.


"And because of his work with community organizing," said Anne Papageorge, vice president of facilities and real estate services at Penn, "he was able to pull people together to work on neighborhood initiatives. That's not an easy thing to do, trying to find a common goal to move projects ahead. John was really good at that. He was able to bridge conflicts and find a path forward."


Mr. McGarry also was active in many nonprofit organizations, including the University City District, UC Green, Friends of Clark Park, and Philadanco dance company. He was a commissioner of the Pennsylvania State Board of Real Estate Brokers, Center City Residents Associates, Philadelphia Condominium Managers, and Rittenhouse Row, where he was known as the "Mayor of the Square."


"He just loved people," Rodin said. "He put his life and his heart on his sleeve. He was the kind of guy to take on anything he believed was good for people."


Besides his sons, Mr. McGarry is survived by a daughter, Kari Rosenfeld.


A viewing will be at 6 p.m. today at the Pennsylvania Burial Co., 1327 S. Broad St. Another viewing will be at 9 a.m. tomorrow at St. Patrick's Church, 20th and Locust Streets. A funeral service will follow at 10:30.


Contributions may be made to the John J. McGarry Memorial Fund at the Philadelphia Foundation, 1234 Market St., Suite 1800, Philadelphia 19107.

Is that a life well lived or what - so many benefited from his spirit.

The Best Damned Eulogy EVER..
On July 15, 2009 there was a memorial gathering for John at his beloved Penn.  While many of us, attended his Catholic funeral service at St. Patrick's, this was a send off for a man who gave his all to make West Philadelphia a better place for everyone.Omar Blaik, who had been his friend, and sometimes attempted to manage John's unbridled enthusiasm gave this tribute.  It brought laughter and tears to the room

 I thought long and hard about how I should remember
John today. And while I can list his many attributes and
the impact he had on me personally and on many others, I
thought I would do something different. Something that
John would have loved. A bit unorthodox, but you would
not have expected anything different from me. I have in my
hand a letter I received couple of days ago from John that I
will read to you. Yes you heard it right, couple of days
ago.
  

Dear Abadai “Omar”: (“Abadai” means “the strong” and I
used to call him Abu Dylan, or Father of Dylan. See, in the
Arab world you are referred to as the father of the older
son, in Jewish traditions you are referred to as the son of
the father. No wonder there is no chance for peace in the
Middle East! But I digress. Back to the letter . . .
 Dear Abadai “Omar”:
Sorry it took me few days to send you the letter. I got
your phone call the other day, but I was very busy settling
in my new digs. It is taking a long time to set up my new
email account, so I thought I would write you a letter
instead. Well, what a week I picked to say goodbye.
Michael Jackson died, the Phillies swept the Mets, America
was celebrating her birthday, an Uprising in Iran, Riots in
China, GM comes out of bankruptcy, and the icing on the
cake was Sarah Palin resigning! Well it was the only way I
knew how to do it. Go out with a bang! Btw, You were
too awkward in the Service. I figured that it must have
been the first funeral you had to go to without me. I used
to be your guide. I would tell you: Stand here, now you
can walk, kneel, wait till they pass. You looked like you had
no clue what to do. I know my tribe (tribe here means
religion) keeps things so formal, but I expected you to
manage on your own. Anyway, did you see how many
people showed up? Tons. I heard you telling someone
that you had little in common with many except ME! I like
that. I am glad I helped break barriers between people,
some of that should be done even up here. More on that
later.
So how do you think Dylan did last Thursday? I thought
he was Awesome. I was very proud of him. You know he
stood there with Tyron and Karry and talked up a storm
with everyone. I wonder where he learned that from?! I
remember you once told me a proverb from back home
that the one who has children never dies. I feel that is so
true. Shifting the topic a bit, did I hear you murmur a
prayer from the Quran near my grave? You were standing
next to the priest and terrified he would hear you. What
was the big deal? There were others praying in Hebrew,
Gallic, Farsi and Hindi, so relax you were not alone. I
knew what was going on, you all decided to buy me an
insurance policy. If my tribe does not deliver me, a prayer
from another may get me through. It was a diversified
portfolio of prayers and love. I like that. I wont tell you
which prayer got me through (that would spoil the fun
down on earth), but I made it through.
Enough about last week, let me tell you how I am spending
my time. Now you would think there are no problems to
solve in heaven, and that I must be bored. Well you guys
need to stop stereotyping people up here. It is true
everyone is nice, but you know, bad habits diehard.
Whites are too self absorbed and uppity, blacks mingle
among each other. Jews are in one corner and few
Muslims are walking around looking over their shoulders.
(I know you are relieved to know that some of your tribe
made it up here!). So few days into my new digs, I did not
like what was going on. So you know what I did? The only
thing I can do. I borrowed some money, bought a small
parcel of “air” between the different tribes. It is not the
best neighborhood, kind of left over space. I wonder who
does urban planning up here. I planted a few trees with the
help of UC Green alumni and created a park. Once a day I
teach some basketball. People seem to like coming here.
It has a Rittenhouse Sq feel to it. Yesterday, I decided to
build a coffee shop at the corner. Not sure though
whether people here would like coffee. I ran into some
problems early on. It turned out that there are Union and
Management issues up here as well. But things seem to be
ok now. They just announced the signing of a 1,000-year
contract, so there is not much tension in the “air”
anymore. But I tell you, it is still fun to hang out with the
union guys! Management is stuck up even in these heavenly
settings!
Overall, I like my new routine. I dabble in many things,
meet different people and spread the love. Listen I have to
go. I arranged for a cup of tea between the Rabbi and the
Imam. They have some issues with the Bishop that they
asked me to help with. Send my love to everyone and hug
the kids for me.
Truly yours
John McGarry.

John we love you too.
Omar Blaik

July 2012
Sigh, I really miss John, at strange moments, especially when I see a guy strolling by with a headful of white blazing hair!  So as I mentioned in an earlier blog, I made an effort to find his grave at Laurel Hill Cemetery - but they redirected me across the river to my favorite place to put in 5 miles - West Laurel Hill.  How could it be that I kept walking by his grave and never knew.  This place is wonderful..Seriously, check it out..I will do a follow up article on this nirvana later..

 http://www.forever-care.com/

I went out there yesterday morning, looking for Southlawn 555 - a very nice man named Steven who worked there saw me wandering around seemingly looking for "someone".  What a gem this guy is..he took out his big map of Southlawn, and then took out his shovel.  He was going to help me find John!  I did not want him to dig up John, but I figured he knew what he was doing so I just followed along.

With a bit of determination, and poking around with the shovel (grave markers are in the ground), we found him.  I am going to end my story here.  There is hopefully more to come.  All I can say is, I went back today and after taking a walk on the Cynwyd Heritage Trail (another tale to tell), I picked up a red rock that seemed to be different from the others lying about, and brought it to his grave and left it there as a reminder that I was there, and I remembered him.

Like I said, there is more to come..I hope -because, there is never a short story when John is involved.