Walter T. “Curly” Price – April 19, 1922 to September 22, 2005

by his son-in-law Tom McDermott

Curly had a good run. He took the stage and played out his life with a contagious enjoyment that made others love him and love to be with him. All of us played a part in his life and in the stories that he lived and retold with such passion and energy.

Curly was a kind man with a big heart who was always ready with a smile, a kind word, a story or a song. He loved the company of family and friends and was always happiest when he saw them enjoying themselves. Curly knew how to enjoy life and wanted everyone to share in the fun. Curly will be missed and always remembered for his smile and the warmth that he brought to all who knew him.

Curly met people and made friends. If there were strangers at any gathering, they were not strangers for long. He could find something to talk about with almost anyone. He made time for people and made sure they knew how important they were to him. Curly connected with people. He had a knack of making any one feel like they were the most important one in the room. Curly could find the best in people and they were always the best to him.

Curly was so many things to so many people. He played many roles in life. First of all, Curly was one of the "few remaining Walters,” but he preferred “Curly”. There were a few who did not even know he was a “Walter”. Curly was a son, brother, husband, father, grandfather and great-grandfather. But there were many other roles he played.

Curly was a scholar and athlete at St. Edwards Grade School and McBride High School, Class of 1940.

Curly was a good athlete in his day. He played as much baseball as he could. He could retell games he played from grade school through high school. He enjoyed playing sandlot games with his brothers and friends. The game was the thing, even after Curly grew up. He loved the Cardinals and would watch or listen to every game that he could. He was a true fan of the game. He finally made his pilgrimage to the holy city of Cooperstown and entered that most revered shrine, the Baseball Hall of Fame.

Curly always made time to see Tom play baseball. Tom’ s teammates asked him if his father really worked because he was always at his games and none of the other fathers were there. Curly could not pass up a chance to see his son play ball just as he and his brothers had for so many years.

Curly was on the 1940 state championship basketball team at McBride, but his most embarrassing moment in sports was in basketball. In one game he threw the ball at the basket from half court with seconds left and it went in! The buzzer sounded. It was the winning basket! Curly was embarrassed because he had just defeated his own son Tom and all the other sons in a father and son basketball game. As Curly said, “I just threw it up there. I could never make a shot like that again! Any other time I would have been the hero. Instead I’m the goat.”

Curly entered the Army Air Corps and became a radio operator on a B-17. He was spared from combat missions and instead kept Arizona and Texas safe as he trained incessantly.

On leave, he came back to St. Louis without a dime in his pocket and met the girl of his dreams. He fell madly in love with Kathleen Barrett and never recovered. He loved his Katie Barrett and she loved her Curly Price. Curly was always Kathleen’s funny valentine. They may have had an occasional tiff, but they never let that get in the way of a good time. It certainly worked for them because Curly and Kathleen were still in love through 58 years of marriage.

And then there were children. Susan, Tom, Ellen and Kathleen. Curly delighted in each of them. He celebrated their successes and shared in their disappointments. He told them to be smart and strong, but always to have a sense of humor about themselves. These were words he lived by. When grandchildren came along he loved each one as though they were the only one. He spent as much time as he could just enjoying what they did and said and how they grew. He spent hours just talking and listening. Each of them always came away with the encouragement he gave and feeling loved and cherished.

Curly was a salesman at Dutch Boy and National Lead. He spent a lifetime studying people and did well because he knew the people as well as the product. His efforts won him a trip overseas where he met up with his cousins from Ireland and England. It was the beginning of transatlantic friendships that led many cousins to St. Louis to visit Curly and Kathleen. Curly returned to visit and was revered by many on the other side of the Atlantic. He was thought of as the father of the family, or as he was dubbed, “Don Curlyone”.

Curly made lasting friends in Ireland. At O’Boyle’s Pub in Moylough one of Curly’s American cousins was visiting for the first time and mentioned that she was from St. Louis. The bartender immediately asked, “Do you know a Curly Price? A fine man he is. The last time he was here he was sitting in the very place you are now.”

Curly was well known around St. Louis as well. Who else but Curly could pull up to McGurk’s on St. Patrick’s Day, park right on the corner in front, be let in before the others and be seated at the bar with a beer in less than two minutes?

Curly was a mentor and advisor. He helped others make their way in the world and understand the gifts and talents they had to offer. He would listen and build up their confidence and give them the encouragement needed to challenge themselves.

Curly thoroughly enjoyed the family picnics with the new generations coming up and was proud of the generations that came before. He loved to tell how the Prices were descended from kings and were master craftsmen and builders before coming to America. He loved to hear how his nieces and nephews were doing and wanted to hear their stories. Curly also took to other families as though they were his own. He loved [his wife's parents] Kitty Mom and Ewald and enjoyed the bunch at Castlewood. Curly could shoot the breeze for hours or just sit quietly for hours with Ewald and enjoy the breeze of a summer night.

Sports were always important to Curly. He coached boys soccer teams and became involved in parish athletics. Curly also went on to coach two CYC Senior Men’s Soccer Championship teams. The secret of his training and conditioning regimen can now be told. There were no steroids. There was just plenty of singing and dancing to Sinatra and Crazy Otto in the Price basement after every game, win or lose. There was no light beer back then. The secret was a healthy dose of carbohydrates followed by whatever sleep you could get and then the obligatory aspirin the next morning.

Curly certainly loved his music. He had a good voice; he would say, “Operatic”. Even after his crooning days, he would serenade his children in the morning. This audience did not truly appreciate his greatness. Undeterred, he would merely say, “And then I wrote…” and break into a new song, seeking to overcome their rejection by increasing the volume. Curly usually got a better reception later in the day. His children and grandchildren will always remember Curly’s rendition of “That Old Green River”, “Bridget O’Flynn” and “The Irish Were Egyptians Long Ago”.

As with any life, there are things left undone. Curly never did get around to playing a game of Monopoly. However, he played a mean game of Scrabble and scorned any player who did not play defensively to prevent double or triple word scores for the next player.

Curly could also debate all things political, especially at quiet Christmas Eve gatherings. The warmth of the Christmas season took on new meaning with a heated debate. Curly could just as easily close debates. Curly once ended an obnoxious contest of Shakespearean quotations at O’Connell’s Pub by quoting just one line: “He speaks, yet says nothing!”

Curly also proved that he could endure the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. When Curly was about to turn 80, he achieved special notoriety when he finally appeared in Jerry Berger’s column. (His sister, Mary Ellen, only recently confessed to being the unnamed source.) Jerry Berger identified Curly as a local “Lounge Lizard” at McGurk’s. Some members of the family were irate but not Curly. Curly quietly read the column, noted that they spelled his name correctly, and calmly observed, “Lounge Lizard? I think they meant ‘Lounge Wizard’!”

Yes, it has been a great run, but now Curly has taken his final bow. The curtain is drawn, the orchestra silent, the house dark. And we, just some of the many players in the stories of his life, gather to honor and remember Curly Price, a genuinely happy man who played his part to the fullest. As Curly always said, “Never overstay your welcome, kid. Always leave them wanting more.” After 83 years, Curly has left us – wanting more.

Well, Curly, the reviews are in. You’re a hit. But you knew that. You packed the house for years and never sent anyone away unhappy. We were all happy to be part of your life, just as you were happy to be a part of ours.

So, for one last time, let’s all give Curly the recognition reserved for excellence. For all your gifts so readily shared, for the love and laughter you brought to so many, for a life well lived…

Bravo, Curly, bravo! Nicely done!

 

Eulogy for Walter Thomas “Curly” Price. Written by Thomas P. McDermott, Presented by John D. Bookstaver At the Funeral Mass, September 26, 2005, Epiphany of Our Lord, St. Louis, Missouri

Grandpa's Funeral
By John McDermott  (age 13)

A gloomy day it was,
My Grandpa's funeral
A room full of people
All sharing divine memories
Some laughing, some crying
I remember looking at his lifeless face
I was lost, empty
Yet it brought back joyous memories
Reality hit me,
I could never again talk to this jolly man
A gloomy day it was.
[10.17.06]

*

Grandpa and Me at the Pub

by Patrick McDermott (at about age 14)

I could hear the sound of the music

The gentle, but happy music

Through the choir of voices from the crowd

Just me and grandpa at the pub

With the sound of the good old Irish music

 

The smell of our food

At our pub

In the bristly winter

The love was overwhelming

From my grandpa to me

 

The feel of the rough table

As grandpa talked with his

Peaceful loving voice to me

About how special I was

 

The laughter from him to his friends

About me and how he loved me

In front of the crowd

Just me and my grandpa at the pub

And the sound of the music