It was pretty sad to read the news via Paul’s Facebook page about his father passing away this morning.
However, I want to share a few quick anecdotes about my interactions with Eugene as a celebration of his life.
What’s with the “Doomsday” thing in his name? It was often the nickname Paul gave his father when we were at Marquette because the gentleman had a rather gloomy or negative outlook on life. Having grandparents who also lived through the Depression and WWII (as adults, Eugene would’ve been a kid to young adult then), I was familiar with the attitude…the world is out to get you; poverty is just around the corner; and back in the day you couldn’t get X to save your life, never mind X wasn’t invented until 1955. The man was a product of his time, especially when I heard his rationale about why Paul couldn’t live in an apartment after our mandatory dorm days were ending. I swore Eugene cribbed this twisted logic from my grandmother.
Contrary to the “Doomsday” moniker, Eugene was an alright guy in my interactions with him. The Southsider accent was rather amusing especially when you heard it giving Paul advice on being careful wit dem crazy girls at school, remember to use one of dem tings, ya’ know, dem rubber tings. It wasn’t funny at the Silder reception while I was trying to use the bathroom, thanks to having White Castle for lunch, and Eugene was searching for somebody named Wally…Hey! Hey! Wally! You in dere? It’s funny now and I did get my deposit back on the tux.
Thanks for the ride to O’Hare that fateful Sunday morning in 1986 Mr. Silder! You made my first genuine hangover memorable and manageable.
Paul announced the wake and funeral being this upcoming Thursday and Friday respectively. Drop him a line should you know Paul, he’d appreciate the kind words.