A Masterpiece
By Kirwin Drouet
He was born at the start of the Roaring Twenties to a seafaring father and waitress mother. Before he was ten years old, he knew the pain of seeing his only sister die at three years old and belonging to a single parent home when divorce was rare and socially unacceptable. Money was scarce on a single mom’s salary and times were hard but soon would get harder for him and his only brother. If you painted this picture of a child growing up in tough times, it would be a Masterpiece.
By 1930, Houston, Texas was writhing in the throes of the Great Depression. Meager tips in the Twenties became non-existent in the Thirties for the single, waitress mom. So one day that year, she gathered up this ten year old along with his eight year old brother and took a trip to a building near downtown Houston. It was Faith Home, the local Houston orphanage, where the mother dropped off her two boys because she no longer could afford to keep them. This orphanage and a few foster homes would be his residence for the next three years. If you painted a portrait of an orphan in complete abandonment, fear and despair, it would be a Masterpiece.
Not all was bad with the orphanage and the time spent with foster families for the boy. He said that he was never mistreated at Faith Home and he learned many new things in this foreign environment: what different religious faiths believed and looked like; what was required to defend himself against bullies in school; that generosity and charity at Christmas time came from the most unexpected person--a local Jewish merchant in town; the development of a lifelong passion for reading and being self-taught. He also learned that he could leave the orphanage when his mother and her new husband took him home again. If you created an image of resurrection from the pits of childhood hopelessness, such an image would be a Masterpiece.
By the late 1930’s, the boy had become a young man. His father’s half-sister, Aunt Julia Iles, took him into her home at age 17 in Port Arthur, Texas. He agreed to sweep the school after hours if he could enroll at St. Mary’s Catholic School without paying a tuition he couldn’t afford. His earlier exposure to various religions while at Faith Home formed the foundation for his conversion to Roman Catholicism during this formative stage of his life and he practiced his Catholic faith until the day he died. At St. Mary’s he blossomed from a shy, quiet teen into “Cuz”, a young man who played football, was a great dancer, became the drummer of a dance band and made many lifelong friends—some of whom are present today including Harold Placette, Libby Ann Ippolito, Joyce Ippolito, and Dodo Killebrew. But the most important lifelong friend he met at this time was Thelma Prince, who later became his wife. If you ever made a depiction of a young man seeing all the good possibilities that life had in store, it would be a Masterpiece.
After high school, the winds of war were swirling in Europe and Asia and jobs were scarce at home. Combining a need for a job and a sense of duty, the young man joined the Army in 1940 while continuing to court Thelma. When the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor in 1941, his world switched into high gear. He knew that if he was going to be risking his life for his country, he wanted Thelma to be by his side during this tumultuous time as well as the rest of his life. So on August 2, 1942, the quiet, strong, dancing soldier married the lovely, outgoing, popular Thelma. His weaknesses were bolstered by her strengths and vice versa. If you wanted to imagine a union that complemented each other magnificently, this union would be a Masterpiece.
His Army career lasted through the end of World War II and into the early 1950’s in the Army Air Corps reserves. He was an MP during WWII and he operated under an assumed name in various assignments in the U.S. During the final months of the war, he was on a ship in the Pacific as a member of the invasion forces amassed to invade the mainland of Japan. Only the use of the atomic bombs in early August 1945 insured that such an invasion would not be necessary and kept him out of harm’s way. My sister and I would not be here to celebrate his life with you if it were otherwise. For the rest of his life, the former soldier regretted not making the military his entire career. If you wanted to portray a typical member of the Greatest Generation doing his duty during World War II, such portrayal would be a Masterpiece.
After completion of his military service, he joined Gulf Oil Corp. as a petroleum truck driver in Port Arthur. While this paid good money for a high school educated veteran, the days away from home on the road was not conducive to what he had in mind for an ideal family life. At the same time, he and Thelma were hoping and praying that they would bring a new addition to their family soon. Unfortunately, their first child would not arrive before their marriage was seven years old. When their new son finally arrived, they were so thankful that their prayers had been answered that they named him after Monsignor Kirwin, the pastor of their church. Almost four years later, their family was complete with the addition of their new daughter, Kathy, the apple of her daddy’s eye. With the arrival of these new family members, the young father chose to get off the road and take an office job that would insure he was home every day to see his children grow up. If you wanted to paint a father that put family before career, this painting would be a Masterpiece.
As part of that commitment to his family, the father loyally worked for Gulf Oil for twenty-nine years. During this period his family was comfortable in their modest house in Port Arthur and his children became productive members of society during the tumultuous times of the 60’s and 70’s. This period of his life was filled with typical family activities like Little League baseball, Camp Fire Girls, and high school activities while maintaining an active role at St. James Catholic Church in Port Arthur where he was a member of the Knights of Columbus, Sierra Club and served as an usher. It was also marked by an untypical event where he saved the life of a Little League baseball player that had swallowed his tongue during a play at the plate. This ordinary family man acted quickly and efficiently in giving mouth to mouth resuscitation to the young man and saved his life while other ordinary family men could only watch and stare. For this life saving act, he was recognized nationally and awarded a gold medal in New York City by Gulf Oil. Upon his return from New York, the medal went into a drawer and was not displayed again until his funeral. If you can imagine a modest man with heroic qualities, such an image would be a Masterpiece.
In the 70’s, the middle aged man began to enjoy the fruits of his labors. He and Thelma bought their weekend “camp” on Lake Amanda outside of Colmesneil when Kirwin was still in college. They wanted a place for family outings and the “camp” later became their retirement home. Kirwin and Kathy were each married and soon the place was filled regularly with the second most important love of his life—his grandchildren. Damon, Kinsey and Keely from Houston regularly came to the Lake during the summers to meet up with Heather and Casey from Buna for extended visits. The cousins loved swimming at Lake Tejas, fishing with MawDee and laughing and playing cards with Pop, the new ‘grandpa’ name for the middle aged man. Thanksgivings and Christmases were never missed at the Lake. These holidays were occasions where Kathy’s and Kirwin’s families could enjoy MawDee’s cooking and Pop’s humor while renewing family ties. If you wanted a portrait of family unity and love, this portrait would be a Masterpiece.
Pop’s humor was a major component in how family and friends related to the man. It is surprising considering how rough of a childhood he had. But humor he did have and he shared it with everyone. What food was to MawDee, humor was to Pop—both gave out gobs of it. And of course, nothing was funnier to him than flatulation! And this was not a recent thing either. There is a reason his best friend from high school, Harold Placette, calls him ‘Tootie’. Harold is a Pearl Harbor survivor and he and his wife Gloria went with Pop and MawDee to Hawaii on a fabulous vacation trip. While they had many fond memories of that trip, including a VIP tour of the Arizona memorial arranged by Harold’s former captain, Admiral Elmo Zumwalt, Chief of Naval Operation, they recounted more often their chance to retaliate and “bomb” the Japs in Hawaii. Much to our families shock and dismay (and amusement), Harold and Pop recounted how when they encountered several Japanese in an elevator in their hotel, they each dropped “flatulent bombs” on their trapped victims. Such joking about this subject even led to one of our family’s annual Christmas traditions—Damon’s gag gift to Pop related to such ‘gaseousness’. Pop received clocks, toy animals, whoopee cushions and other assorted items all designed to sound like you know what. And the competition among the males in our extended family to outdo one another in this crude contest would make the producers of American Idol jealous. The winning ‘toot’ in such contests was always called “A Masterpiece.”
In Pop’s retirement years, his health began to fail, primarily due to the increasing debilitating effects of diabetes. I am convinced that if it were not for the heroic efforts of my mom, we would have lost him several years ago. She literally willed him to keep going when it was clear that he was beginning to lose the fight. The disease was further complicated by the onset of congestive heart failure and kidney failure. Their retirement home was not close to adequate health facilities and more and more he would have to be taken by ambulance to Beaumont for care. Each such trip added a toll on his health and we knew his time was coming to an end. As a result, Kathy and her husband Eddie Roy and I decided to purchase a new manufactured home for them last Thanksgiving. The new home would be located on my sister’s property outside of Buna on Highway 96. Mom and Dad agreed to the move. When we received the news from his last visit to the hospital that he had a slight heart attack and would be sent home under hospice care, Pop chose to go to the new home at Kathy’s rather than the Lake. When we asked him if he wanted the sleep in the hospital bed that had been set up in the master bedroom for comfort, he declined in favor of sleeping in the new sleigh bed with Mom.
Pop’s final hospital stay and hospice care at his new home was miraculously pain free. Every time we asked if he was uncomfortable, he said no. When he passed away on Monday, there was no struggle or even signs that his death was imminent. His hospice nurse checked him that afternoon and he was responsive and restful. When Belva of Harbor Hospice came to bathe him and give him a shave and put on his new clothes, he indicated that it made him feel good. Later that night, his breathing sound became pronounced but not labored nor irregular. His circulation was still good and it looked like the hospice nurse’s prediction of him lasting another four or five days would come true. It looked like our hopes that he would last long enough for Damon and Heather to get here in time would be realized. But the Lord had different plans and timing for Pop.
Around 10:40 Monday night, mom was on her bed next to Pop’s hospital bed in vigil. She kept saying she did not like the sound of his breathing even though he was in no discomfort. She even delayed taking her sleeping pill but something just didn’t feel right. I came in to the room, checked on Pop and asked if she realized that this day was the 5th anniversary of Gloria Placette’s death. She said yes because she had talked to Harold, Gloria’s husband, and he told her. As we spoke about Gloria next to Pop’s bed, he rattling breathing suddenly stopped. Mom, Scooter, Kathy and I immediately went to his bedside and held on to him waiting for that next breath. After seeming like an eternity, he took another rattled, even breath and we waited for the next one. It never came. If ever there was an example of someone showing us how to die, this passing was a Masterpiece.
Finally, as Paul Harvey might say, I need to tell you the rest of the story. After Pop died, I looked at my watch and noted that the time was 10:50pm. I also told mom, Kathy and Scooter that I thought it was great that he passed away on the same date as Gloria. Indeed, I made the comment that it seemed like he heard us speaking about her only 10 or so minutes before and that it seemed as if Gloria had come to him to take him home to his Lord and other loved ones. About 15 minutes later, Kathy called her best friend, Theresa Kleypas, Harold and Gloria’s daughter, to tell her of our dad’s passing. As they discussed the coincidence that he died on the same date as Theresa’s mother, Theresa said that Gloria had also died late in the evening on that date five years before. When Kathy asked her what time that was, Theresa said it was at 10:50pm, the very same time of Pop’s passing. Theresa also told Kathy that January 26 five years ago was a Monday as well.
I apologize to you that this eulogy was longer than usual but then again, Pop lived longer than usual. I am convinced that he was given the blessing of a pain free, peaceful end because his beginning in this world was so hard. Thank you, Daddy, for all you did for us and taught us. Your life was truly A Masterpiece.
By Kirwin Drouet
He was born at the start of the Roaring Twenties to a seafaring father and waitress mother. Before he was ten years old, he knew the pain of seeing his only sister die at three years old and belonging to a single parent home when divorce was rare and socially unacceptable. Money was scarce on a single mom’s salary and times were hard but soon would get harder for him and his only brother. If you painted this picture of a child growing up in tough times, it would be a Masterpiece.
By 1930, Houston, Texas was writhing in the throes of the Great Depression. Meager tips in the Twenties became non-existent in the Thirties for the single, waitress mom. So one day that year, she gathered up this ten year old along with his eight year old brother and took a trip to a building near downtown Houston. It was Faith Home, the local Houston orphanage, where the mother dropped off her two boys because she no longer could afford to keep them. This orphanage and a few foster homes would be his residence for the next three years. If you painted a portrait of an orphan in complete abandonment, fear and despair, it would be a Masterpiece.
Not all was bad with the orphanage and the time spent with foster families for the boy. He said that he was never mistreated at Faith Home and he learned many new things in this foreign environment: what different religious faiths believed and looked like; what was required to defend himself against bullies in school; that generosity and charity at Christmas time came from the most unexpected person--a local Jewish merchant in town; the development of a lifelong passion for reading and being self-taught. He also learned that he could leave the orphanage when his mother and her new husband took him home again. If you created an image of resurrection from the pits of childhood hopelessness, such an image would be a Masterpiece.
By the late 1930’s, the boy had become a young man. His father’s half-sister, Aunt Julia Iles, took him into her home at age 17 in Port Arthur, Texas. He agreed to sweep the school after hours if he could enroll at St. Mary’s Catholic School without paying a tuition he couldn’t afford. His earlier exposure to various religions while at Faith Home formed the foundation for his conversion to Roman Catholicism during this formative stage of his life and he practiced his Catholic faith until the day he died. At St. Mary’s he blossomed from a shy, quiet teen into “Cuz”, a young man who played football, was a great dancer, became the drummer of a dance band and made many lifelong friends—some of whom are present today including Harold Placette, Libby Ann Ippolito, Joyce Ippolito, and Dodo Killebrew. But the most important lifelong friend he met at this time was Thelma Prince, who later became his wife. If you ever made a depiction of a young man seeing all the good possibilities that life had in store, it would be a Masterpiece.
After high school, the winds of war were swirling in Europe and Asia and jobs were scarce at home. Combining a need for a job and a sense of duty, the young man joined the Army in 1940 while continuing to court Thelma. When the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor in 1941, his world switched into high gear. He knew that if he was going to be risking his life for his country, he wanted Thelma to be by his side during this tumultuous time as well as the rest of his life. So on August 2, 1942, the quiet, strong, dancing soldier married the lovely, outgoing, popular Thelma. His weaknesses were bolstered by her strengths and vice versa. If you wanted to imagine a union that complemented each other magnificently, this union would be a Masterpiece.
His Army career lasted through the end of World War II and into the early 1950’s in the Army Air Corps reserves. He was an MP during WWII and he operated under an assumed name in various assignments in the U.S. During the final months of the war, he was on a ship in the Pacific as a member of the invasion forces amassed to invade the mainland of Japan. Only the use of the atomic bombs in early August 1945 insured that such an invasion would not be necessary and kept him out of harm’s way. My sister and I would not be here to celebrate his life with you if it were otherwise. For the rest of his life, the former soldier regretted not making the military his entire career. If you wanted to portray a typical member of the Greatest Generation doing his duty during World War II, such portrayal would be a Masterpiece.
After completion of his military service, he joined Gulf Oil Corp. as a petroleum truck driver in Port Arthur. While this paid good money for a high school educated veteran, the days away from home on the road was not conducive to what he had in mind for an ideal family life. At the same time, he and Thelma were hoping and praying that they would bring a new addition to their family soon. Unfortunately, their first child would not arrive before their marriage was seven years old. When their new son finally arrived, they were so thankful that their prayers had been answered that they named him after Monsignor Kirwin, the pastor of their church. Almost four years later, their family was complete with the addition of their new daughter, Kathy, the apple of her daddy’s eye. With the arrival of these new family members, the young father chose to get off the road and take an office job that would insure he was home every day to see his children grow up. If you wanted to paint a father that put family before career, this painting would be a Masterpiece.
As part of that commitment to his family, the father loyally worked for Gulf Oil for twenty-nine years. During this period his family was comfortable in their modest house in Port Arthur and his children became productive members of society during the tumultuous times of the 60’s and 70’s. This period of his life was filled with typical family activities like Little League baseball, Camp Fire Girls, and high school activities while maintaining an active role at St. James Catholic Church in Port Arthur where he was a member of the Knights of Columbus, Sierra Club and served as an usher. It was also marked by an untypical event where he saved the life of a Little League baseball player that had swallowed his tongue during a play at the plate. This ordinary family man acted quickly and efficiently in giving mouth to mouth resuscitation to the young man and saved his life while other ordinary family men could only watch and stare. For this life saving act, he was recognized nationally and awarded a gold medal in New York City by Gulf Oil. Upon his return from New York, the medal went into a drawer and was not displayed again until his funeral. If you can imagine a modest man with heroic qualities, such an image would be a Masterpiece.
In the 70’s, the middle aged man began to enjoy the fruits of his labors. He and Thelma bought their weekend “camp” on Lake Amanda outside of Colmesneil when Kirwin was still in college. They wanted a place for family outings and the “camp” later became their retirement home. Kirwin and Kathy were each married and soon the place was filled regularly with the second most important love of his life—his grandchildren. Damon, Kinsey and Keely from Houston regularly came to the Lake during the summers to meet up with Heather and Casey from Buna for extended visits. The cousins loved swimming at Lake Tejas, fishing with MawDee and laughing and playing cards with Pop, the new ‘grandpa’ name for the middle aged man. Thanksgivings and Christmases were never missed at the Lake. These holidays were occasions where Kathy’s and Kirwin’s families could enjoy MawDee’s cooking and Pop’s humor while renewing family ties. If you wanted a portrait of family unity and love, this portrait would be a Masterpiece.
Pop’s humor was a major component in how family and friends related to the man. It is surprising considering how rough of a childhood he had. But humor he did have and he shared it with everyone. What food was to MawDee, humor was to Pop—both gave out gobs of it. And of course, nothing was funnier to him than flatulation! And this was not a recent thing either. There is a reason his best friend from high school, Harold Placette, calls him ‘Tootie’. Harold is a Pearl Harbor survivor and he and his wife Gloria went with Pop and MawDee to Hawaii on a fabulous vacation trip. While they had many fond memories of that trip, including a VIP tour of the Arizona memorial arranged by Harold’s former captain, Admiral Elmo Zumwalt, Chief of Naval Operation, they recounted more often their chance to retaliate and “bomb” the Japs in Hawaii. Much to our families shock and dismay (and amusement), Harold and Pop recounted how when they encountered several Japanese in an elevator in their hotel, they each dropped “flatulent bombs” on their trapped victims. Such joking about this subject even led to one of our family’s annual Christmas traditions—Damon’s gag gift to Pop related to such ‘gaseousness’. Pop received clocks, toy animals, whoopee cushions and other assorted items all designed to sound like you know what. And the competition among the males in our extended family to outdo one another in this crude contest would make the producers of American Idol jealous. The winning ‘toot’ in such contests was always called “A Masterpiece.”
In Pop’s retirement years, his health began to fail, primarily due to the increasing debilitating effects of diabetes. I am convinced that if it were not for the heroic efforts of my mom, we would have lost him several years ago. She literally willed him to keep going when it was clear that he was beginning to lose the fight. The disease was further complicated by the onset of congestive heart failure and kidney failure. Their retirement home was not close to adequate health facilities and more and more he would have to be taken by ambulance to Beaumont for care. Each such trip added a toll on his health and we knew his time was coming to an end. As a result, Kathy and her husband Eddie Roy and I decided to purchase a new manufactured home for them last Thanksgiving. The new home would be located on my sister’s property outside of Buna on Highway 96. Mom and Dad agreed to the move. When we received the news from his last visit to the hospital that he had a slight heart attack and would be sent home under hospice care, Pop chose to go to the new home at Kathy’s rather than the Lake. When we asked him if he wanted the sleep in the hospital bed that had been set up in the master bedroom for comfort, he declined in favor of sleeping in the new sleigh bed with Mom.
Pop’s final hospital stay and hospice care at his new home was miraculously pain free. Every time we asked if he was uncomfortable, he said no. When he passed away on Monday, there was no struggle or even signs that his death was imminent. His hospice nurse checked him that afternoon and he was responsive and restful. When Belva of Harbor Hospice came to bathe him and give him a shave and put on his new clothes, he indicated that it made him feel good. Later that night, his breathing sound became pronounced but not labored nor irregular. His circulation was still good and it looked like the hospice nurse’s prediction of him lasting another four or five days would come true. It looked like our hopes that he would last long enough for Damon and Heather to get here in time would be realized. But the Lord had different plans and timing for Pop.
Around 10:40 Monday night, mom was on her bed next to Pop’s hospital bed in vigil. She kept saying she did not like the sound of his breathing even though he was in no discomfort. She even delayed taking her sleeping pill but something just didn’t feel right. I came in to the room, checked on Pop and asked if she realized that this day was the 5th anniversary of Gloria Placette’s death. She said yes because she had talked to Harold, Gloria’s husband, and he told her. As we spoke about Gloria next to Pop’s bed, he rattling breathing suddenly stopped. Mom, Scooter, Kathy and I immediately went to his bedside and held on to him waiting for that next breath. After seeming like an eternity, he took another rattled, even breath and we waited for the next one. It never came. If ever there was an example of someone showing us how to die, this passing was a Masterpiece.
Finally, as Paul Harvey might say, I need to tell you the rest of the story. After Pop died, I looked at my watch and noted that the time was 10:50pm. I also told mom, Kathy and Scooter that I thought it was great that he passed away on the same date as Gloria. Indeed, I made the comment that it seemed like he heard us speaking about her only 10 or so minutes before and that it seemed as if Gloria had come to him to take him home to his Lord and other loved ones. About 15 minutes later, Kathy called her best friend, Theresa Kleypas, Harold and Gloria’s daughter, to tell her of our dad’s passing. As they discussed the coincidence that he died on the same date as Theresa’s mother, Theresa said that Gloria had also died late in the evening on that date five years before. When Kathy asked her what time that was, Theresa said it was at 10:50pm, the very same time of Pop’s passing. Theresa also told Kathy that January 26 five years ago was a Monday as well.
I apologize to you that this eulogy was longer than usual but then again, Pop lived longer than usual. I am convinced that he was given the blessing of a pain free, peaceful end because his beginning in this world was so hard. Thank you, Daddy, for all you did for us and taught us. Your life was truly A Masterpiece.
