Opaque Lucidity

In July, 1985, Jim Dattilo, my grandfather, was 84. He, too, worked on the small barge, mainly to have something to do with his time. I spent a lot of time with Grandpa during my childhood, but the time I spent with him over the four summers I spent working here had a greater effect on me than the rest, for they taught me much about the world, about work, and about family.

My high school years were difficult for me, as they are for many adolescents. Those years are hard because they are about change. But when school was out at Providence for the summer, class was in session here. Grandpa did not once sit me down and tell me of great things and ideas in the form of monologues; he did not teach in that way. His lessons came through in our conversations---and they ranged all over the place. But through it all, the greatest lesson he taught me was one of permanence. For an unsteady, unsure young man, Grandpa’s steadfast constancy was reassuring. No matter what, he would be here in his white t-shirt, jean shorts, white canvas shoes and Marine Builders hat.

Grandpa lived through all the great events of the 20th century: two world wars, a Great Depression, numerous recessions, the transition from the Wright Brother’s Flyer to the Space Shuttle, the information technology revolution and many other events and accomplishments too numerous to list here. Through it all, he maintained that the important things, the qualities that matter, do not change with time. Love of family, love of nation, faith, loyalty and honesty are not affected by technological change or fads. They are unbreakable and as constant as the river he loved so much.

When this was still bottom land that flooded nearly every spring, Grandpa envisioned a harbor here. But financing was thin and the dream was never fulfilled. He would be amazed by the changes that have taken place here. I can imagine him standing at the end of one of these docks and saying “Wow! They really did it.”

Some of you knew Jim Dattilo as a father, grandfather, great-grandfather, or as a friend. Many of you did not know him, and so I address my final comments to you. When you visit this place, please take a moment and think of my grandpa. Though you did not know him, you have known men like him, men who work hard, live simply and have faith that tomorrow will be better than today. His legacy and lessons live on in his children. I know from personal experience that he passed on his best qualities to his sons and daughters and it is my hope that at least some of those characteristics still reside in my generation.

If our loved ones in heaven can look down upon us still here on Earth, then I know that Jim Dattilo spends a lot of time looking here. So smile and wave and think of him fondly. I certainly do.