May we wish a very happy if belated Mother's Day to all those gracious ladies out there past and present…Judging by the response to the last column, you seemed to enjoy the bit about "Big Dave and the alligator sneakers," so I thought I might dust off anther tale of our gang from that same year of 1961-62.

We were at that seminal age of 12 or 13 in a boy's life, and in the seventh grade at Richardson School. We could finally see some evidence of being allowed small freedoms; one was the ability to leave school grounds at lunchtime to buy our lunch anywhere. With our budgets, that was pretty much limited to Bill and Betty Donahue's Watson's Diner on Railroad Ave., where we could get a large ($.25) bag of crispy french fries, salted and doused with vinegar or ketchup, or future mayor Kai Shang's Soon Lee laundry, where for $.50 one could buy a chop suey or chow mein sandwich that couldn't be beat.

Whichever choice we made, afterwards Dave Hardt, Mike Walsh, Frankie Marcoccio, Mike Duffy and I would make the short walk to the train depot on the eastern side of the tracks to lounge on the large baggage carts and engage in what passed for polite dinner conversation among lads of our level of gentility. We really looked forward to that lunch hour, the one hour we had all to ourselves until the Richardson warning bell called us back to the classrooms. There was one day when that routine was put on hold, however…

In Watson's one day, the rest of the guys were already munchin' on their fries as they watched me rifle through my pockets for the third time, madly searching for my quarter as a very busy Bill Donahue stood by wordlessly waiting for my order. At last, even I gave in to the reality of my situation, and almost whispered, "It's OK, Bill- I don't want anything today.." hoping to hide both the lie and my embarrassment. As he walked off, I asked, "Can any of you guys loan me a quarter?" I think one or two may have made a move toward their pocket, but, as usual, they took their lead from Dave. Dave was a country boy, and he had seen the odd chicken in the barnyard, and it was me.

"Uh-oh, McAvoy lost his lunch money; gee, he must be so-o-o hungry right about now." He'd slowly draw a long fry from the sack, pass it slowly under his nose, all the while doing a remarkable impression of a sommelier in a fine french restaurant commenting on the bouquet of a heady merlot. Then into his mouth it would go, and, well, you get the idea…

Now Bill Donahue was watching all this hands on hips, and finally he broke the moment with a question, "what happened Tommy? Lose your money?" I just muttered, "yeah".

"Won't ya buddies lend you a quarter?" he asked.

I just stared down at my Snap-Jax and shook my head side to side. "Go and sit over there" he said, indicating an empty booth at the back. Now kids were always being shunted to the side, told to go to the back, stand over there, sit up straight. I was a kid, so I went. Dave's act continued at the booth and he even gave some of the other guys some lines.

Now I should let you in on something which Dave and the gang didn't know - my maternal grandmother's maiden name was Donahue from South Boston. Bill was the son of her brother Michael, so he was her nephew and my mother's first cousin. My family had eaten breakfast in Bill's most every Sunday morning after 7 o'clock Mass. So that will give you some understanding as to why some guy's chins hit the floor, when, without a word, Bill and Betty placed before me a complete turkey dinner with all the fixings. Peas, potatoes, turnips, dressing, cranberry sauce, hot rolls, and an ice cold glass of milk.

As I said, Bill and Betty placed this all in front of me without a word, and initially I was nearly as baffled as anyone - until, just before turning to leave, they each gave me a wink and a smile that only I could see….

Condolences

How synchronistic is it that Teknor-Apex announces its closing in the same issue of this paper that carried the obituary of Robert Rovzar, who presided over that firm for many years. His sons Rod and Mark are longtime friends, so I had the pleasure of knowing Mr. Rovzar since my early teens. He was a gentlemen of great dignity and accomplishment who lived life well. Condolences to his widow Virginia and both sons. Condolences also to Chick and Jan Carter, classmates of mine, on the very untimely passing of their son Chick Jr. Prayers and wishes for full recoveries to Len Baxendale and Mike McGarrity upon their illnesses.

As I've mentioned in previous weeks, the Gary DiNardo memorial golf tournament is coming up. It will take place on Friday, June 19, at 2 p.m. at Whaling City Golf Course (508-996-9393), 581 Hathaway Road, New Bedford. Activities will run as follows: 12:30 p.m. check-in, silent auction open until dinner, and range open for practice. At 2 p.m. a shotgun scramble format will take place. Finally concluding with the steak cookout which will begin at 6:30 p.m.

The silent auction is to include: club seats to a New England Patriots game, Red Sox tickets, gift certificates to restaurants, fine cigars, hotel stays, etc. Proceeds will go to a scholarship fund in Gary's memory. ($50 per foursome, $125 individual, or just come for the dinner at $50 per meal.) For any further questions or information contact Doug DiNardo at 401-207-9430, or Doug Johnson at 617-429-7988.

So please be good to one another out there, and try to perform a kindness daily.

TOM McAVOY of Attleboro is a community columnist. His commentary appears every other week.