3/10/23 - Friday Forget-Me-Nots by Jim Silcott

Photo Caption: Right to Read Week Kahoot Contest

Dear Our Lady of Peace Family,

I was working in my office last Saturday between first reconciliation for the second graders and heading downtown to work the opening night Crew game when my old friend, Jim stopped by. He had been in the neighborhood and saw my little Fit out front.

I have known Jim for over 50 years. We first met in high school at one of the Teens Encounter Christ retreat weekends that were popular back in the seventies in Columbus. Jim graduated from the now shuttered Father Wehrle High School on the south side. From that point on, we were fast friends. He married his wife, Peggy, forty years ago. As a matter of fact, the very Saturday that I saw him was his 40th anniversary. He had been at the Krogers at Graceland to buy some flowers for his bride.

When I was principal at St. Timothy, Jim, and Peggy and his five children moved into the St. Timothy neighborhood. He wanted to enroll his oldest, the only one ready for school, at St. Tim’s. Unfortunately, that grade was full and I wasn’t allowed to make any exceptions, even for Jim. As is true to Jim’s nature he took the news well and was patient. Eventually, he got all his five children into school there and has been an active parishioner ever since, sitting on the Finance Council and helping to run their very successful summer festival.

Jim ran a small market in the Grandview area for a few years and then opened a string of laundromats which he still runs today. He is pretty much a one man show. He decided long ago that he wanted to be his own boss and he travels from shop to shop maintaining his equipment, keeping his property up to date and collecting the money from his machines.

I don’t see Jim a lot. We will go to breakfast occasionally. We talk on the phone. He has lent me the use of his truck when I have needed it. Mostly, as he drives around town and I work at a fixed location, he stops by when he sees my car in front of school. I stop whatever I am doing, and we talk, and the time goes by and the years melt away.

Jim is one of the holiest men I have ever known. His faith is rock solid, but he doesn’t preach or proselytize. He and Peggy have raised five children and help take care of grandchildren. He is content with his life and takes it however it comes to him. Like any man our age, life has come to him in good waves and bad ones. He figures that it is all part of God’s plan.

We talked about money for a bit. I have no idea of his income but as he likes to tell me, “I have a roof over my head. I can heat my home in the winter and keep the air conditioner on in the summer. I was able to provide for my children and I don’t miss a meal. When my truck isn’t running, I get the parts and fix it. What more do I need?”

Like men our age, out thoughts sometimes turn to death. The people we have known who have died, our own inevitable death one day. Jim’s faith awes me. He takes what he has been taught in Catholic schools and at church, and he knows that it death is just as natural as getting up and going to work in the morning. He knows that he will be with God one day. Now Jim doesn’t come right out and say that. As he sits and strokes his long white beard the tone and confidence in his voice makes me know that he is right with God and has no fear of meeting Him.

The fact that I have friends such as Jim of 50 plus years standing overwhelms me from time to time. So many years, so many experiences and yet, when I sit with Jim, we are back in the days before wives and children and grandchildren and jobs. And while I am blessed to continue to meet new people and develop new relationships, friends like Jim are part of the anchor of my life. One day, he will attend my funeral or I his. Whichever one survives will say a kind word to the spouse and family. We will remember the friendship and the conversations and the sharing of mutual faith. And we will smile knowing that the other is united with family and mutual friends and with God.

In the meantime, whether that be a day or a year or a decade or more I will cherish those pop-in visits from my friend.



I asked Jim what he and Peggy were doing for their milestone anniversary. “Going over to Peter’s (his son) house and getting together with the other kids and grandkids and eat some pizza and have a board game night.” That is my friend, Jim. And I love the guy.

Jim Silcott