Showing posts from March, 2021


No one obituary could sum up my father-in-law, but I gave it a shot anyway.  The Rev. William Joseph Maher, Sr., was born on July 5, 1941,  in Oil City, Pennsylvania,  and b efore long  would   be found riding  his   tricycle in circles until the wheel  stuck there ,  having gotten the  point , and it would be the first in a long line of objects animate and inanimate that would both tire of Bill’s bullheadedness and give into it,  out of   sheer  admiration  for   such a  single-minded  sense of purpose. Having bent the bike to his will, Bill  would move  on to  conquer middle  and high school bullies, raging war with the gangs that plagued the  neighborhood. At 18, a priest told Bill he’d have to start tithing  money,   so  Bill told him a thing or two bac k   and never returned ; h e took to the bars, instead, where, for fun and maybe  to face  a demon or two,  he' d  pick  fi ghts and /or  finish them. (His adult children never quite believed these stories   until the day a man