Tall boys

We Cohea boys descend from the tall cornfields of Illinois and Iowa, where our father Bill grew up. Tall and skinny except when we're tall and fat (like now). (Timm and I were closely matched in body type; brother Will is shorter by an inch or two but much more strongly built.)

One of our first family reunions was back in June '87 when sister Molly got married. The picture above shows the men gathered together perhaps for the first time since that fateful "Crossroads" photo some 20 years previous. Timm, at the far right, would have been about 23 here; brother Will at far left about 32 and me about 30. Dad in the center is 60.

It had been so long since we had all stood there together that I remember a certain aura about the photo, a miracle of histories. Hard to believe we were standing there together. I think we felt a rekindled faith that we could be stlll be a family at those moments of reunion.

One night after having dinner with Mom, Timm, Will excused ourselves to walk out in the early evening, farting away like a horn trio.

"There's nothing like Mom's cooking," Will enthused, and we all agreed, laughing.




One of Timm's goals in life, at least early on, was to be the tallest member of our clan, and his great vexation was that biology topped him off a half inch shy of my height. The solution apparent to Timm was to wear boots, which unfortunately only brought him up level with me. (It can be argued that I fought back for height supremacy by roostering up my hair. Oh how the millimeters counted back then ...)

The photo above shows us boys, much cleaned up for Molly's wedding on that hot and humid June day of '87. You can't see Timm's boots here, but he was adamant about wearing them.

Three brothers in that photo, living at great distances and yet happy, for that moment, to be standing together there.

The wry family joke was that we only got back together for weddings; all of us kids had one (I had two, but Beth and I eloped for the second one), so there were reunions in '87, '88, '95 and '96. We had hoped to have some sort of reunion in the latter years before the funerals began. Last year we were working on one when Molly's stepson Nicholas passed away. Timm came down for the funeral and so did Dad; our hopes for an entire family gathering last summer faded with health and financial issues.

Timm made 2 trips last year, attending Nick's funeral (there he is in the photo above with sister Molly) and Dad's 80th birthday at Columcille. He was a faithful trooper, a good brother and son, traveling the furthest to give what he could.

I'd say he stood the tallest.