Two events in the last week led me to think a little about mortality.
The first event has to do with old Shannon, our great cat. Shannon wandered out late in the night last week and another cat or raccoon beat up on him. As my parents would say in their Elizabethan English, currently he is “all stove up” which means that he is stiff and sore.
Today, Dr. James Dorney, the vet who looks after Shannon’s health, called him “an elderly gentleman” which is probably right. He is now 14 years old, so perhaps it is time to think about Shannon’s mortality.
The second event has to do with Rudy Guiliani’s diagnosis of prostate cancer. Since that news has begun to sink in, Guiliani has dropped his bid to be a Senator from New York and now proclaims that he will try to overcome the “barriers” he erected between himself and the minority community in New York City. The new Rudy has appeared on several television talk shows to announce his semi-conversion to civilized behavior. Clearly, the new Rudy is a function of his dread of his impending mortality.
So these two events started me to think. When a man is working on his 78th birthday, it is probably fair to say that it may be time to put affairs in order. I’ve done all that including the will and the pre-paid funeral expense plan. I’m not planning to leave any time soon as Andy Beamer, the cardiologist, gave me a semi-glowing report on my heart in April. But before I leave this vale of tears, as Lillie Carr called it, perhaps I’d like to leave an epitaph of some sort.
The Bible suggests that man is living on borrowed time after the 70th birthday. I’m now well past that point, but maybe an 80th birthday is not out of reach. Not so bad for a fellow who thought he wouldn’t see his 21st birthday.
In this long life, there have been many high spots. And there have been some low spots. I’m proud of the good moments and regret some of the less-than-stellar events in my life. All things considered for a depression era childhood and youth, I’m a happy man. For the past 12 years, Judy and I have been married and she has made my life a very happy one. I am indebted to her for that. My daughters are good citizens and good mothers. They are married to interesting husbands. My five Grandsons are coming along very well. So between the marriage, my family and my many friends, I have reason to be a happy man.
But as I look back at a long lifetime, I believe that the event that stands out in my mind is the contribution I was able to make during World War II. This is not about missions flown or medals gained or towns captured. In the final analysis, it is about 12,000,000 Americans in uniform and millions more in war related industries. It is about our Allies in Great Britain, Canada, Australia and all the rest who joined with us in that struggle. Had we not prevailed, our future would have been bleak, indeed. And there were many times when the Allies were less than sure of prevailing.
As I prepare to say goodbye some day, I believe that contributing to that effort of that struggle, was probably the most worthwhile achievement of my life. I have no use for guns or the military life. My thoughts have nothing to do with guns and soldiering. I would feel this way, I suspect, if I worked on Liberty Ships or in a munitions factory. In that war we all pulled together. And as the end approaches, I just want to acknowledge that I feel good about being able to contribute to the effort to defeat Hitler, Mussolini, and the Emperor of Japan. Had we lost that war, our lives in this country would have been much less worthwhile.
Now about the epitaphs which is where I started this essay. If I were as literate as Henry Mencken, I would adopt his epitaph. In December 1921, some 35 years before his death, Mencken wrote his own epitaph. It said: “If after I depart this vale, you ever remember me and have thought to please my ghost, forgive some sinner and wink your eye at some homely girl.”
If someone wants to use this epitaph for me, with credit being given to Mencken, it would be fine with me.
On the other hand, with the thoughts that I have expressed herein about World War II, I believe I would prefer an Irish rouser. The “Minstrel Boy” will cause the hair on the back of an Irishman’s neck to stand on end. It recalls the 800 year occupation of the Irish Nation by England. It gives hope to the oppressed. And so the “Minstrel Boy” it is.
Christopher Lynch, a pure Irish tenor, came to this country in 1946. He sang that song several times on the Bell Telephone Hour on radio. When he sang “Minstrel Boy” every Irishman who heard him was saddling up and ready to have a tilt with the forces of Old Mother England.
Unfortunately, Lynch could not handle celebrity well. He took to drink and by 1950 was gone from the scene. What a loss. What a fine voice.
And so if I can’t take Mencken’s epitaph as my own, I believe the last verse of the “Minstrel Boy” would serve me well. It says:

And said: “No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and bravery,
Thy songs were made for the pure and free,
They shall never sound in slavery.”

If someone wants to include all four verses of the “Minstrel Boy” in my epitaph, that would be fine with me.
Now, I’ve said about everything about epitaphs. I hope that Shannon and Guiliani who got me into this, live long lives. I can’t do anything about Rudy, but for Shannon I will share the “Minstrel Boy” as his epitaph as he is a good Irish cat. He is also a loyal and good companion. So the “Minstrel Boy” is for the both of us. If Judy wants to join in, that would be agreeable for Shannon and for me.
E. E. Carr
May 22, 2000
~~~
Well, this is odd.
I’m not sure how popular of a quote that Mencken epitaph is, but I’ve now heard it twice today and — as far as I’m aware — never before in my life. The first was about three hours ago, watching a show called “The Wire.” A man is getting fired from a newspaper in Season 5 Episode 3, and quotes the same epitaph. Very strange coincidence. A quick search shows that such an epitaph isn’t mentioned anywhere else on the published essays on this site.
Minstrel Boy is indeed pretty, but in the end we wound up going with “The Parting Glass” for Pop. I think he would have been satisfied with the choice.