10 years.

My dad, Jay Gallagher, died 10 years ago today.

There is so much I continue to miss about him. His warm hugs. His laugh.  The way his eyes smirked when he landed a good joke or jab - which is to say, often.

I yearn to talk to him about our current political moment, though I am also a little relieved he was spared the Trump presidency. He would have been just gutted by Trump’s anti-democratic instincts - his vilification of the media; his inability to take criticism, to put the needs of people first, to engage in reasoned thought or discourse. He would worry for the future of our country and democracy, and write about how failures in leadership impact everyday people’s lives.

I listened to people talking about my dad last night (link to videos below) and read over old messages he received. What people valued in him was his ability “rise above the jaded cynicism” - and his commitment to a journalism which had absolute integrity and held itself to a standard of  fairness and service.

I think he would have been a really useful voice in thinking through what comes next for the pandemic: the need to come together by staying apart to prevent more suffering and death - weighed against the suffering that will come and be disproportionately shouldered by the most vulnerable amongst us by economic depression. 

He would have opined about the proper role of government in the crisis.  

He spent much of his career going toe-to-toe with the Cuomos - I would have loved to hear him in that briefing room asking Andrew how he is going to pay for all this, while also cutting him a break and acknowledging that deficit spending might even be justified given what is at stake.

And he somehow would have found a way to don a Red Sox mask.

10 years feels momentous for me - like it should mark a before and after. That he should move into the past tense - cuz come on, it’s time! But this year, in the space created by the pandemic, I have found myself with more time to think about the holes he left, about the places where he should be. On the bike trail from home to downtown Albany! Playing with my nephews - his grandsons - I’m just so sad he never got to know them and experience the joy of playing ball with Jasper, receiving Aidan’s head butts, and being decorated, jumped on, and dressed up as they saw fit. 

We are all ok - I am finishing my own book, which I realize mirrors his in some ways. Both share the stories of how average people are affected by government ineptitude (albeit mine is set in Mexico and focuses on failures of their justice system). My sister works at ahem a leading educational institution - working to promote a spirit of public service amongst future governmental and business leaders. And mom continues to therapize - alleviating suffering one client at a time. We all miss him, in our own way.

If you get a chance this Memorial Day weekend, please take a moment (or a swig of beer) to remember my dad. I am trying to breathe into his challenge to think productively about shitty situations: what can I say, write, or do to think about how we lessen our own and other’s suffering as we come out of (and go back into?) this crisis. 

Go Sox! (errr… ok. that’s doesn’t even work right now…)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5wY_0e5qYw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=2&v=VmIDwzCniH0&feature=emb_logo

Text of our part of the Memorial Service

Here is the text of what Janice and I read at the memorial service last night.

Thank you again who all who came to celebrate and remember our father.
- Ellen

~~~~~

I think everyone knows that our dad was irreverent - whether telling a cop off in Providence, or asking our highest-level elected officials "how they were going to pay" for whatever rosy-sounding project they had proposed, our father spoke truth to power. Like any good reporter, he was cynical.

But he was not all cynic. He hewed close to some basic values - and was a man with firm principles, and fierce integrity.

Here are some of the values he held most dear:

Family

• He was gentle, supportive and affirming with us - helping us believe that not only did we have the responsibility to make a contribution to society, but that we were infinitely capable of doing so.
• As much as he was a man of words, his actions said perhaps more about how he felt about family. Mom and Dad together prioritized our well-being, sometimes even above their own. When dad was looking for a house in Albany at the time of the big move from Rochester, he saw about 20 kids playing outside on a cul-de-sac in Delmar. While the house wasn't perfect, they were sold. Since it would be best for his girls, that's where they would live.
• While dad did like the metaphor that paying for our college educations was like buying a new car every year and driving it off a cliff, he did it: he and mom lived frugally so that we would enter our adult lives debt-free, enabling us to choose careers in education and public service that pay in ethical and spiritual, but not so much in material, rewards.
• He almost never missed a sporting event of ours, setting earlier deadlines for the other reporters so that he could make our games.
• It was important to him that we spend holidays together as a family, especially Christmas, of which he spent all but three in his entire life in the house that his grandfather built outside of Lowell, MA. He loved meeting the new additions to the family at holidays, and got a twinkle in his eye when he played with his nephews, and later his nephews' children.

Public Service

• Dad thought that there was no higher calling than helping citizens hold their elected officials accountable for serving the public. He told me he was never more proud of me than when I worked in Colombia trying to decrease human rights abuses by the government.
• This appreciation for public service was at least partially hereditary: his father, uncle and sister were reporters, and his grandfather was on the board of selectman.
• While Dad had ink in his blood, he also had teaching in his veins. His mother, sister and daughter were all teachers, and dad's commitment to mentoring young reporters expressed what he always said was his second career choice: a history teacher and coach. He had dreams of teaching in his retirement, perhaps as a professor. He loved that his job, and the book he wrote, gave him the opportunity to travel the state and explain NY government to different groups of people.
• In his last year, Dad got more involved in local politics. He helped a friend with his campaign and frequently attended school board meetings, at which he put his same keen eye to their budget (and its affect on his property taxes) as he did to the state budget.

Fun

• As much as dad was committed to his work, he also loved weekends, which would find him sailing his tiny sunfish, golfing with friends, or sitting in front of the tv rooting for his beloved teams: Red Sox, Celtics, Bruins, Pats and Bills. Vacations were great because they were expanded weekends, and were especially good if they included Aunt Judi, water views, and a long bike ride that ended at an ice cream stand.
• Dad loved games, especially ones he could win. When I started trouncing him at the word game Boggle in my early teens, we switched to ping pong. Which he beat me convincingly at, with both his left AND right hand.
• He loved music and dancing.
• Most car rides between our house and his family's house in Boston as a kid consisted of me sitting in the front seat with dad, belting out oldies tunes for hours. He was never happier than when a falsetto part of a beach boys song came on. The LCA's commitment to reworking oldies' songs AND letting dad have at them was, perhaps, the real key to his longevity in Albany.

Principles of Journalism

• Dad was committed to accuracy, directness, attention to detail, and fairness.
• When we would say something like “there were 3 or 4 people there” he would ask: "Well, was it three or four?" If we said we’d arrive around 8, he’d want to know if it was 8:15, 8 or 8:30.
• Dad asked direct questions that went to the heart of someone's perspective: upon meeting a political theorist friend of mine, he asked the eternal big question: "Why is everything so screwed up? in politics" which launched them into a really interesting conversation about why politics is so, well, screwed up.
• Knowing statistics and facts helped him order the world. Dad knew the populations of most countries and cities. He could tell you the important Red Sox sluggers since he was a kid, along with their batting averages. And he of course knew more details about NY state budgets and elections than one should.
• Dad was fair. The quickest way to get on dad's bad side was to lie to or cheat him. Or let him see you lying to or cheating others.
• His fairness translated into his child-rearing philosophy: I knew that the quickest way to get something from my dad, was to point out that Janice already had it.

Simple pleasures and routine

• In the end, dad was a simple guy, and a creature of habit.
• He kissed mom every day when he came home from work. And hugged us when we drove in from far away, and incidentally, also hugged most everyone he met this past year.
• He started every day, no matter where, with a newspaper, OJ and grape nuts, he ate dinner at 6:30, and followed a consistent, if bland, diet. After a hard tennis match or bike ride, he enjoyed lobster, tater tots, cold beer, or a cold lemonade like no one else: He would sit back in his chair, close his eyes tight, and dramatically take in the beer/fried potato/lemonade slowly, opening his eyes only after the treasured food had percolated inside him for a while.
• Also, he believed that any food in the world could, and should, be turned into a sandwich. For example: filet mignon and salad. Scallops and clams in a biscuit.
• He loved spending lazy summer afternoons visiting with his siblings, cousins, and later niece and nephews on Long Pond.

Love

• For the love of his daughters, dad travelled to Bogota, Colombia and the Amazon in Ecuador when we knew he would probably prefer to be sitting on his screened-in-porch with the Sunday crossword. But because Ecuador and Colombia is where we were, he came to visit and managed to have a good time.
• Dad would turn off the TV, even if there were just 12 seconds left in a Celtics/Lakers game, when mom got home.
• Dad told me that he was happy I was with Allyson because I was happier when we were together. It comforted him to know I'd found love and a partner, and he hoped that my relationship would bring me as much joy as his had with mom.
• Dad was deeply kind. Even when we knew he had a difference of opinion with someone, he would refuse to speak badly about them, and change the subject if others did. Critiquing someone based on a factual error or opinion was what he did - but he didn't personalize his critique.

Community

• Dad enjoyed and believed in the power of connections.
• It was no secret that Dad was a fallen-away Catholic. He found his spiritual home and community in the Albany Unitarian Universalist church, where mom could go to Pagan drum circles, and he could be as cynical as he wanted to about organized religion. He enjoyed the fellowship he shared with others, going to Silver Bay and hamming it up at the Annual Dinner
• The LCA Show was something he looked forward to every year, and he would marvel aloud what a great country this was - where pols would laugh at the reporters' jokes, rather than put them in jail. He saw the show as a way to both be irreverant and contribute to the greater civic duty of holding politicians accountable and keeping them grounded.
• It was important to him to be connected with our neighbors - from watching the superbowl with the guys, to assisting the Moshiers in a small way after Tim's death in Iraq.

Life

In the past year, dad worked to deal with his increasing physical discomfort. Shortly before he died, he had to decide whether the suffering had been enough. He opted for a potentially traumatic major surgery in order to have a shot at extending his life. He confronted cancer bravely, but also let himself feel and react to its injustice. He struggled to find hope given the dire statistics of pancreatic cancer. He loved life and wanted to live longer, and while he told us he was ready and at peace with dying at the end, he desperately wanted more time here with all of us.

Humility

• While the last year was sad in so many ways, kind emails from close friends and strangers alike moved him more than anything else. He was thankful and moved that so many people cared about his health and well-being. He was a man who gave a lot to others without expecting their appreciation in return. So he was deeply grateful when it came.
• He, and we, were most struck by all the people who told dad that his work had mattered and made a difference. Whether this work was mentoring an intern or younger reporter, letting politicians know that the public was holding their feet to the fire, or giving readers straight news and sharp analysis, Dad was touched and surprised that his work affected so many people.
• He would be deeply honored, and humbled, by all of your presence here tonight. Thank you so much for sharing in our father's life.

Video Tribute to Jay from NY Now

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5wY_0e5qYw

We will not be posting much more, but we thought this was a great (and short!) tribute to dad on NY Now. We like that it shows him laughing and asking tough questions.

Memorial Service Details & Senate Resolution Honoring Jay

The memorial service will be held on Tuesday, June 1 atWestminster Presbyterian Church, 262 State St in Albany. Doors will open at 7pm and the service will start at 7:30.

Today, our family was honored when Senator Andrea Stewart-Cousins and Senator Neil Breslin introduced a resolution in honor of dad. Here is the video of the Senators speaking about the resolution:

Obituary

Jay Gallagher, award-winning journalist and passionate observer of New York state government for more than a quarter century, died Monday from pancreatic cancer. He was 63. Jay’s dogged determination to bring depth to his reporting led to “The Politics of Decline,” his 2005 book which linked political machinations to economic decay across the state.

Gallagher was born on April 30, 1947. More than most, Jay had ink in his blood. His father and uncle worked as reporters and editors at newspapers in Salem and Lynn, Massachusetts; Jay was was born in Beverly and raised in nearby Danvers. As a boy he became a rabid follower of all Boston sports teams, especially the Red Sox. In his online memoirs, he wrote of his first visit to a ballgame in 1953: "If I ever get to heaven, my arrival could be no sweeter than that moment I saw Fenway Park.''

While earning a bachelor’s degree at Colby College (Maine), he met the woman who would give him a happy life, Emily Kreinick, of Brockton, Mass. After their graduation and marriage in 1969, Jay took his first reporting job at the Waltham (Mass.) News Tribune, then moved on to the Providence (R.I.) Journal. He worked there until a fateful work strike and a day on the picket line. After refusing to pipe down when a police officer ordered, Jay was arrested and quickly determined he’d move on from Rhode Island. He next spent eight years at the Rochester (NY) Times-Union, then joined Gannett News Service’s New York Capitol Bureau in 1984. Named bureau chief in 1989, Jay coordinated state coverage for Gannett’s eight statewide newspapers for the next two decades.

He covered the administrations of governors Mario M. Cuomo, George E. Pataki, Eliot Spitzer and David Paterson. He wrote the weekly New York Angle column, a staple in many Empire State newspapers. He also shepherded the careers of many journalists and student interns who worked at the Gannett bureau. He was a regular panelist on "New York Week in Review,'' a statewide public-television show, and has appeared on the CNN show "Inside Politics'" and "The News Hour with Jim Lehrer'" on PBS. In the last year, he became a co-host on “The Capitol Pressroom,” a statewide public radio program.

Among the numerous awards Jay received for his coverage of state government were the 1998 and 2004 New York Newspaper Publisher’s Association Award for excellence, the 1997 and 2004 Legislative Correspondents’ Association award for outstanding reporter, and the 2002 beat reporting award from Capitol Beat, the national association of state capitol reporters, and the 1993 New York Common Cause award for best commentary on New York state government. He was a favorite among fellow reporters and a staple at the LCA’s annual theatre shows.

During this time, Jay and Emily raised daughters Janice and Ellen. Jay passed on his love of politics to both daughters: Ellen works to promote the integration of immigrants into communities across the country, and Janice is a PhD student in Political Science, focusing on human rights and international law. His friends knew countless hours of rooting for his beloved Boston teams from the Red Sox, Bruins and Celtics to the New England Patriots. In 2003, Jay stepped back from daily reporting to tackle the question of how New York’s intractable political problems contributed to its economic decline. Growing out of a series of in-depth news articles, Gallagher’s book, “The Politics of Decline,” (Whitston, 2005) detailed government’s major failures: the failure to address the loss of manufacturing jobs, to stop runaway Medicaid costs and to find a balance in funding for public education system. He laid the blame not only on special interests and the lack of political leadership, but also an apathetic public.

Jay always took care to balance work with his personal life. He was a big sports fan, and also liked biking, kayaking, and cross-country skiing with his family. He was a passionate and competitive tennis player, until a bad hip forced him to switch to golf. In high school, he played on the hockey and football teams; in college, hockey and track. And he always attended all the girls’ athletic events, even doing a stint as co-head coach of a girls’ soccer team with daughter Janice.

Jay’s diagnosis of pancreatic cancer in June 2009 came as a shock. But he immediately began to chronicle his fight in a blog carried by several New York newspapers. With wit and grace, he took his readers through the ups and downs of chemotherapy, conflicting medical opinions and wrenching family decisions.

Jay was predeceased by his parents, Joseph and Hazel Bromley Gallagher and his sister Anne Bromley Pramas of Dracut, Mass. He is survived by his wife of almost 41 years, Emily Gallagher, his daughters, Janice Gallagher of Ithaca, N.Y., and Ellen Gallagher (and her spouse, Allyson Goose) of Somerville, Mass. and his brother, Neil Gallagher, of Berwick, Me.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks donations be made to Friends of Five Rivers, 56 Game Farm Road, Delmar, NY 12054 or the First Unitarian Universalist Society of Albany Endowment Trust, 405 Washington Ave, Albany, NY 12206.

The memorial service will be held on Tuesday, June 1 at Westminster Presbyterian Church, 262 State St in Albany. Doors will open at 7pm and the service will start at 7:30. Please check this blog for further updates.

Good Bye Boys

We have both known we would have to write this blog since the day we started it almost a year ago.

We will try to do our dad justice, and be clear and direct and not too sad or sappy, and to laugh as we cry.

ALBANY, NY_Jay Gallagher, 63, died at about 8:30 Monday evening. He was surrounded by his family as he had wanted. Our father passed quickly and without much pain.

He spent his final day resting, and giving his visitors and callers a hard time about overspending, late budgets, and high property taxes. He muttered, while in a sleepy morphine state, "school board elections." He died at the time of a rare television trifecta: a Red Sox game, Celtics game and the 24 season finale were on at the same time. The decision of which to watch seemed to be too much for him.

He was a great man, father, husband and friend. We thought that was our secret, more or less, until this year. We have been totally overwhelmed at how many other people have figured this out - the emails that have poured in over the past year, and especially in the last week, touched him and our family deeply.

After he passed, we tried to talk about our memories of him but it was hard to come up with just one, or ten, things. We talked about how deeply he affected every part of our lives - his integrity, along with his love of politics, family and sports, shaped us. We sang his favorite Beach Boys song together (a little bit badly - as he would). And we cried because we will miss him.

It is actually really scary to write this blog and NOT have it vetted by him. We have been honing our inner BS-meters, too-wordy filters, and grammatical correctness our entire lives. This is the first time we don't have our dad to give us the final edit.

Details will be forthcoming on this blog about the memorial service.

This blog was very important to dad, and he thought about what his "final blog" might say quite a lot. With the help of Yancey Roy, a longtime friend and colleague, here is the closest we can get to our father's "final blog" entry.
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Everything felt like a long shot from the beginning. And it turned out to be just about what they said -- just shy of a year.

As the doctor who visited this morning said, pancreatic cancer is one of the most difficult "problems" in medicine. Seems like an understatement from this vantage point.

I don't want this to be maudlin. It's been a long -- and, in some ways, extremely short -- 11 months but I feel like at least we didn't flinch from taking any opportunity -- being daring enough to try whatever was available. The bitch is that every sign of progress was eventually met with a new complication. And the body just can't take it after a while.

It's been an amazing year in other ways. I've had a chance to more fully appreciate human relationships, let go of minor irritants (though I still had to ask friends about the Red Sox and Celtics this morning) and try my hand at new forms of journalism (blogging and radio).

I always said if I came through this fight, I'd be a changed man. Well, even though I didn't "come through this" as I hoped, I am still changed - for the better.
----------------
We love you dad.

Written by Janice and Ellen. Vetted by Mom, Judi and Allyson.

Another day, another prognosis

Given the prognosis and expectations, today was an unexpectedly good day. We have been waiting to write this blog in part because we don't want to jinx it.

Dad has had no signs of internal bleeding today: his blood pressure has stabilized, and all his vital signs are good. This despite the fact that his surgery did nothing to fix the cause of the bleeding tumor. Again, our understanding is that the tumor was bleeding because it has grown into adjoining blood vessels, and that this isn't a treatable or controllable condition.

We are all trying our best to take things moment by moment, or at least day by day. To keep in mind that the bleeding, which was life-threatening 3 days ago, could resume at any time. But also to permit ourselves a little bit of hope, even if it is only short-term hope for things like watching the Celtics game tomorrow night…perhaps even at home on our own tv.

Jay is lucid, though tired from the morphine he is taking to control the pain from Friday night's surgery. Dad spent the day with family - Mom's sister Judi came in from California, and his brother Neil arrived from Maine. He continued to eat a little more, and read his email messages when he was able.

We thank you all for your prayers and well-wishes, and ask you to keep sending them! We really do feel them here.

We are meeting with hospice care first thing in the morning to discuss our options for Dad's continued care, which could mean staying here on the 6th floor, moving to hospice, or even moving home. Dad tires easily, and we ask that visits still are limited to family and closest friends.

Author: Janice, with vetting by Mom and Dad