Sunday, January 15, 2017
I am shocked and deeply saddened to learn of Ike's passing.
I first met Ike in UB's Fargo Quad and we both worked in the University's Housing department. My last year at UB we lived on the same floor in the Red Jacket Quad. Ike joined the Reserves and would at times have to go on maneuvers for extended weekends. Upon his return to the University, he would invariably trudge with his gear into the courtyard between the Porter and Red Jacket Quads and scream out "Sheehan . . . . I'm home . . . . Ha ha!" The courtyard space was not that small, and yet even with my windows closed I could easily hear his booming voice and infectious laugh.
Even though we were only dating at the time, Ike routinely called my (now) wife "Mrs. Sheehan" with a sly grin. She too remembers the thunder and hilarity of Ike's many "I'm home" announcements.
In one sense, it could be said that I too "lost touch" with Ike over the years because -- though he attended our wedding and stopped by a few times when he was downstate -- we did not communicate regularly. But Ike was one of those people that you could talk with after a very long hiatus and it was like you had just spoken with him last week.
A few years ago, my oldest daughter embarked on the long drive back to UB for her junior year and a few hours later I was shocked to receive a call from a stranger who had just pulled my daughter out of her car on the thruway just west of Syracuse. A multicar pileup caused by an intense storm wrecked the car but thankfully my daughter was OK. I had no idea how my daughter was going to transport herself (and her stuff) to UB but I knew that Ike lived in Rochester and might be able to help out so I gave him a call. As luck would have it, Ike immediately picked up the phone (my calls always went to voicemail) and he happened to be returning from a vacation upstate, was only 30 minutes away from the accident scene and on his way back to Rochester. He actually stopped on the highway, spoke to my daughter and assured me that the woman I spoke to on the phone -- who volunteered to take my daughter to Rochester -- was indeed normal and had fit all of my daughter's stuff into her SUV.
To this day, I believe that it was a miracle -- and not just luck -- that Ike was able to be there and help me and my daughter. Since our time together at UB, which ended in 1984, Ike continued to live more than 300 miles away from me. But somehow he always seemed to be nearby.
My wife and I offer our heartfelt condolences to Christine and Ike's brother and sister.
