It happened again this year, in Ireland. While we were lost, driving around a small village looking for the road west to Galway, he came to our aid.
It was Jerry Quinn’s Pub…the namesake of our hero that caught our eye long enough to also notice the “you are here” roadmap on the curb. It’s difficult to quantify how this year shaped up to expose the importance (dare I say…greatness?) that Jerry Quinn oozed on our lives. But I’m all about the difficult, so here it goes:
As a new couple, we first encountered the Quinn’s magnanimousness in 2005. A trip to New Jersey (not usually done voluntarily) became a journey of wonder. Jerry picked us up from the Newark airport, and immediately we saw janitors empty the busy corridors to clear his path, and surly Airline Gate Agents turn cheerful, and spread rose petals on the sidewalk to his waiting car. Drivers on the turnpike pulled over, saluting in deference to make sure there was no traffic as we approached his idyllic home; nestled in what is clearly the only remaining “garden” in the “garden state.”
We’ve been all around the world. To the warm sandy beaches of the tropics. Among the humbling mountains of the north. Through great forests of the west. Even Indiana. Nothing (nothing I tell you!) compares to the experience of Jerry Quinn’s home.
So it was with great humility that this summer, we persuaded Jerry Quinn and his lovely wife to visit us in Mount Prospect , IL. And while we basked in the company of his awesomeness, he perused and critiqued the Chicago architecture (Mayor Emanuel will be making some adjustments) as well as approving the new Mount Prospect water tower and serving as Grand Master of the 4th of July Parade.
And in the fall as we took another trip to New Jersey (again, not exactly voluntary) Jerry Quinn in true form hosted us in his magical oasis, and walked us through the magnificent grounds of The Storm King Art Center. Which he invented.
How can we express our gratitude and praise of this giant? It’s impossible…truly. And so, dear reader, I’ll just leave you with this closing Haiku:
His name is Jerry
He is master of all things
Don’t mess with the Quinn